#where he pretends to find a bird and then eat it

[robotsafari]

“you insolent little bitch.”

-ansem, seeker of darkness (he definitely said this)

[pucksandpower]

Theories of Relativity

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors

The Olive Theory

When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)

You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.

As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”

Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"

You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”

Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"

You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.

Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”

The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”

“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.

Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.

“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”

You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”

Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”

You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”

The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.

After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.

You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”

Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”

You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"

“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.

You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”

Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”

The Bird Test

If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time

The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.

You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.

You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.

As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.

“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”

Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”

You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”

Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"

“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”

As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.

Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.

“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”

He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”

You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”

The Orange Peel Theory

A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship

Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.

Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.

“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"

Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”

He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.

You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.

“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”

“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.

“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.

Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.

“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.

One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.

You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.

When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.

Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.

Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.

The little things that mean everything.

You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.

You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”

Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”

He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”

Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.

“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.

Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.

You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.

The Invisible String Theory

An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)

The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.

Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.

Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”

You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.

Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”

You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.

Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”

He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.

A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.

Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.

“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.

Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.

“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”

Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”

Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.

Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.

It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.

You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.

Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.

He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper.

You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.

Meant for each other. Destined, even then.

[dixonzzgirl]

dog head canons (no one asked for these)

dog is extremely protective of you, like if daryl is pretending to sneak up on you, dog will show his teeth and growl (all while his tail is going).

or if daryl is tickling you and you’re squealing, dog thinks daryl is hurting you, so he’ll start barking really loud and trying to jump in between you.

he also gets jealous when you’re giving daryl attention and vice versa. he’ll whine and cry and flip onto his back with his paws up in the air to make you look at him. He’s just full of drama.

sometimes when you sneak some of your food to dog, daryl shoots you a glare cause he’d rather you eat and have dog’s share come out of his portion.

when daryl gets back early from a run and can’t find you, dog will ask “where’s yer’ mama? hm?” and then dog will lead him straight to you.

BATH TIME !! you do the washing and daryl does the drying. he doesn’t have the patience to sit there while dog shakes off for the 10th time in a row. so that’s your job :)

when dog shakes his sopping wet coat all over you, daryl can’t hold back his laughter, causing you to splash him with a bit of water. “oh, cause i thought something was funny,” you say as daryl glares your way. 

BED HOG BED HOG BED HOG!!!!!!!

daryl finds him a nice, big dog bed on a run, but dog still prefers sleeping snuggled up to you.

he usually sleeps at the foot end of the bed, but he shoves his snout in between you two and always ends up wiggling up further and further throughout the night.

he likes to push his feet into daryl’s back while you spoon him. 

dog gets locked out of the room when you and daryl have sex because he either gets worried that daryl’s hurting you or he thinks you’re having fun without him.

he’s tried to jump up onto the bed once or twice before, so daryl now lures him out and then quickly shuts the door.

he will 100% scratch at the door and try to shove his nose underneath it to make sure you’re both still in there.

dog thinks killing rabbits, birds and squirrels is a game, so whenever daryl takes him hunting with him he’ll kill them and drop them at daryl’s feet all proud and shit. 

when dog gets the zoomies, you chase him around the house and daryl thinks its the funniest thing in the fucking world because you’ll be chasing him and then he’ll stop for a second and do the play bow and then he’ll take off again.

he’ll also jump up on the couches and launch himself off.

a/n: i’ve never seen anyone do dog head canons before, so i figured i’d do some!!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

pairing: cult leader!joel miller x virgin!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 8.6k

summary:

You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears.

His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

author's note: a huge thank you to my fellow cultist @atinylittlepain for listening to me scream about this. without them, we'd probably be on version 5 of this story. and to everyone who has been excited about this, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: DARK CONTENT - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dub-con: power dynamics, dub-con: cult mentality, age difference - 60M and 27F, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, post-outbreak, canon divergence, canon typical violence (knife wounds, gun shot wounds, numerous mentions of blood), minor character death(s), blood cult ceremonies, religious themes, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, loss of virginity, oral sex - f receiving, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, cum play, dirty talk, pet names, praise, joel really has a loose screw ok? if there are any tags missing, please let me know!

“I don’t think you should go out there by yourself,” you say, watching as your dad inspects his gun. He looks up at you with a pained expression.

“I gotta see where we should head next. I don’t want to lead you out in the wrong direction, accidentally get you in a bad spot,” he says. “I’ll be fine, buttercup.”

There’s a heaviness that settles in your stomach at his words. He sounds confident enough, but his eyes tell a different story, expose his fear. He stands with a sigh, a wince of pain washing over his face.

“Maybe I should—“

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m going. I won’t be gone long, okay? We can’t stay here forever. Who knows what’s out there in the forest.”

That’s exactly what you’re afraid of. At least inside the rotted cabin you stumbled across you could pretend you were safe. The forest is alive in a way you’ve never experienced growing up in a QZ surrounded with barbed wire and steel. You hear the snap of twigs and the howl of wolves, or the flutter of wings and the call of birds, and sometimes you think you feel the weight of eyes watching you if you venture out too far in your exploration.

“We’ve made it this far. We got out of Denver and that was half the battle,” your dad says. “You got your knife, right? And enough rations.”

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat. He kisses your forehead, dry lips lingering on your skin. You have an aching feeling this is a goodbye, some sinking intuition that he’s making a mistake that you can’t correct.

“Be back soon. I love you.”

Joel’s been keeping an eye on the people in the woods for the last three days. There was chatter on one of the radio stations that the Denver QZ was facing an uprising and he knows that once those walls come down, the survivors that venture out are bound to stumble across his town.

The cabin door opens and the man steps out, venturing into the forest. Joel waits to see if his female companion follows, but the door remains shut. He longs to see you, the girl who’s image has been burned into his brain since his first glimpse, but he has a duty to fulfill first.

He walks quickly and quietly through the forest, sure feet catching up with the man less than a mile from where he’d started.  Joel clears his throat. 

The man turns, fumbling with a gun that he clearly has no experience using, pointing it at Joel with shaking hands and shouting, “Move and I’ll shoot!” 

“You lost?” Joel asks, holding his hands up and keeping his face trained in a mask of concern. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

After a pause, the man seeming to have concluded that Joel isn't a threat, he says, “My daughter and I…we escaped the Denver QZ."

"That must've been difficult." 

"We....we're running out of food," he continues, dropping his arms, limbs hanging heavy at his sides. "I-I don't know what else to do, man."

Gun no longer pointed at his face, Joel approaches the man, stopping when he's within arms reach. Up close, he can see the dismal state the guy is in -- sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tattered clothing hanging on a thin frame. Joel places a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I can help you," he says. The man looks up, a brief glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Joel watches the slow realization, the way his brain catches up to what's just happened, a choked noise spilling from his dry lips. 

Joel tugs his knife from the man's gut and steps back, watching as he collapses to the ground. Desperate hands smear the blooming red stain across his abdomen. Joel circles the man, positioning himself at his back, and pulls him close with a hand slapped over his mouth.

"I'll take good care of her," he whispers before dragging his knife across his neck in one clean slice. The man twitches once before growing limp and Joel releases him, body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. Not one to waste, Joel gathers anything of use from his person. 

Something catches the light against his neck. Curious, Joel tugs the bloodstained neck of his t-shirt to the side, finding a silver chain. He pulls, revealing the length of it. 

A cross.

The clasp snaps with a sharp tug and Joel stuffs it in his pocket. Standing and shouldering his bag once more, he begins his walk back towards the cabin.

You're running as fast as your legs will carry you, lungs and limbs burning with the effort. You made the mistake of not listening to your dad when he'd told you stay where you were, to stay hidden, that he'd come back. Your nerves had gotten the best of you and you decided that you would catch up with him, but you didn't know which direction he'd gone. You figured you would travel a little ways and see if you could find him and if you didn't do so quickly, you'd rush back to the cabin and wait, just as he told you.

That's when the men saw you, two large figures with rifles that reminded you of FEDRA soldiers slung across their backs. 

You duck behind a thick tree to catch your breath. You can hear voices calling out through the forest above the rush of blood in your ears, taunting tones carrying through the air.

"C'mon out, pretty girl!" 

You chance a peek out from your hiding spot, only catching a brief glimpse of one man through the trees. 

"Where ya hidin', sweet thing?" 

His voice sounds far away and that gives you the courage to move forward, a tentative dash for another tree. 

“I might be nicer to ya if you just come on out, but if I have to hunt ya down…well…you know what a hunter does to its prey, don’tcha?”

You press your hand over your mouth, muffling the cry that claws its way up your throat. You start to run again, faster, not caring if he can hear you so long as you're able to maintain that distance, hoping that if you can outrun them for long enough, he'll just give up and then maybe you can find your--

You crash into something, the world sliding out from under you and the breath rushing from your lungs as you land on your back with a pained shout. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you across the rough ground before you have the chance to recover. 

"Gotcha," a man says, the voice different from the one that had been taunting you before. A figure stands over you, a foot on either side of your hips, looking down at you with a sinister smile. "Pretty little prize, huh?"

You twist your body, scrambling away from him. He laughs, following after you with unhurried strides.

“Now, don’t play hard to get,” he admonishes. A hand wraps around your ankle and he drags you toward him, kicking and screaming. Your foot connects with some fleshy part of him and he curses. 

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he hisses, dropping your foot. He kicks you, heavy boot colliding with soft flesh and bone, a sharp pain blossoming in your side, shooting down to your very marrow. You curl in on yourself, wounded prey trying to protect its most vulnerable parts.

A shot rings out, the sound startling in the relative quiet of the forest. You sit up, sudden movement making you light headed, and it takes you a long moment to register the scene before you.

The man that had been chasing you, the one that had caught you, the one that had hurt you on the surface but planned to do far worse, lies on the ground, eyes wide open but unseeing. Above him stands your savior, an older man with gray streaked dark curls and tan skin, broad shoulders and hard brown eyes. He reminds you of a painting you saw once in a book your dad owned, long before the outbreak.

“Death On A Pale Horse,” he explained when you showed him the painting that caught your eye. “Based on the Book of Revelations. You remember that one, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“This one,” — he pointed to the central figure, a dark creature on a white horse — “is Death. And this one” — he pointed to a figure on the right that rides a dark brown horse, the dark colors making him blend among the horrors breaking from the sky behind him — “would be famine. You can see the emaciated man below him.”

“What about the other two?” You asked.

“The one of the red horse would be war.”

You pointed to the remaining figure, a man with dark curls and a determined expression. “And the white horse?”

Your dad paused. “Conquest. Pestilence. The Antichrist. The first horseman of the apocalypse.”

The man before you today looks like that figure on the white horse and despite his choice to rescue you from one horror, you fear he may be something far worse.

The man kneels and you flinch away from him. He sighs and says, “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You ask, voice weak, throat on fire. 

“My name is Joel,” he says. “I want to help you.”

“How do I know you weren’t with those other guys?” Your eyes grow wide and you rush to stand on shaky legs. “Wait, there’s another—“

“He won’t be an issue,” Joel assures you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. “C’mon.”

“I can’t—“

“Men like those two ain’t the only things in the forest to worry about, and I’m afraid we can’t sit around and find out. That gun shot could send a horde runnin’.”

“Wait!” You snap, pulling out of his grasp. He holds his hands up, as if in surrender, or maybe like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not sure which. “My dad is out there. H-he went to figure out where to go from here. We were in a cabin…” Your voice trails off. “I told him I would wait for him.”

Joel’s eyes are soft as he says, “We need to get ourselves to safety. I can send someone out to look for your dad first thing in the mornin’.”

“Send someone?”

“There’s a group of us, down in the valley. Survivors, like you.”

“Really?” Relief washes over you, eclipsing even the ache in your belly and the burn in your throat and the pain in your muscles. “How far?”

“With the state you’re in, probably about a two hour hike.”

You don’t have much choice but to go with him, do you?

“Okay.”

“Where’re you comin’ from?” Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You’ve been following quietly behind him, head down and eyes fixed on the ground. 

“Denver,” is all you offer in response. He knew that much already. He wants to know more.

Maybe he has to give more first.

“‘M from Texas, originally. Was in a QZ in Boston for a while before makin’ my way out here.”

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask.

“Had a friend once tell me, ‘Save who you can save’,” he says. 

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“You’ll see.”

Joel had mentioned survivors, but you're shocked to discover that just past a wooden sign proclaiming WELCOME TO CRESTONE in chipped yellow paint, a whole town is tucked away, surrounded by a wooden gate that opens for you as you approach. You feel the weight of curious eyes as you walk through a town square, Joel's palm between your shoulder blades steering you towards a more residential area until you reach a two story adobe home.

Once inside, you’re led upstairs to a sparsely decorated bedroom, a large bed in the center with a faded quilt tucked around the mattress with precision and a dresser against one wall covered in yellowed wallpaper. Joel gestures for you to sit, kneeling on the wood floor in front of you to work on the laces of your sneakers.

“What—“

“You need rest,” he says, removing your shoes. He looks up at you, brown eyes full of concern. Your stomach flips.

“But—“

“No,” he says sternly. He stands and walks to the side of the bed, tugging the quilt free and folding it down. “I have duties to return to, but you’ll be safe here.”

You don’t have it in you to continue arguing. You haven’t seen a comfortable bed in more than two days and the exhaustion catches up to you in one fell swoop, eyes halfway to shut as you crawl into the space Joel’s made for you between the sheets. He pulls the covers over you, the warmth of a hand smoothing across your cheek the last thing you feel before falling asleep.

You wake to the sun high in the sky, streaming through the open window of a room that you don't recognize.  You push yourself to sitting, your ribs protesting the movement and your head pulsing just behind your eyes. Your mouth is unbearably dry, so much so that you start coughing, further aggravating your bruised ribs.

"There's water on the nightstand," a voice says, startling you.

You look to your left, finding a young girl sitting in a wooden chair by your bed. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, wayward pieces falling across pale skin. Her sharp brown eyes watch you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m Ellie,” she says. You mumble your own name.

“Did Joel save you?” Ellie asks. 

“Uh—“

“He must have. That’s what he does,” she continues, cutting you off. 

“Ellie!” A familiar deep voice calls out. Her eyes go wide and she scrambles from her seat, rushing for the door. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, Joel appearing in the open doorway. He looks at her with a stern expression, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Thought I told you not to come up here.”

The look on her face isn’t fear, like her reaction would have led you to believe. No, she looks up at Joel with reverence as she says, “Sorry. Wanted to see her.”

Joel nods. “Head to the mess hall. I’ll bring her down shortly.”

Ellie casts a lingering look in your direction before disappearing through the doorway. 

“Sorry about her,” Joel says. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Could be better,” you say honestly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A little more than a day.”

Your eyes go wide. “My dad—“

“We’ve sent out a search party. No luck yet, I’m afraid,” he says. You curl into yourself a bit at the news, shoulders tight with worry. He reaches forward and places a hand on top of your own where it rests on the sheets. “You should get some food. I brought you some new clothes, too. I’ll let you get dressed and we can go down to the mess hall.“

He leaves the room before you respond and you drag the pile of clothes closer to you, finding a neatly folded t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks. It takes you a long moment to work your way out of your dirty clothes, your movements slow to not aggravate your injuries. You keep your bra on, pulling the clean shirt over your head, followed by the jeans. You're thrilled to be wearing something that's not caked with dirt and sweat.

You're working on putting your socks on when there's a knock at the door, Joel entering when you call out for him to come in. He smiles at you.

"There, that's better," he says. "C'mon. Let's get down to dinner."

You follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The first floor of the home has a kitchen that opens up to a living and dining area, the space filled with worn mismatched furniture. The walls are wood paneled and there's a massive stone fireplace with elk antlers mounted above it.

The sun is setting as you step outside and get your first real look at the town as its bathed in gold. Narrow residential streets give way to wider roads once you reach the town center, where commercial buildings are pressed together advertising long forgotten businesses, their windows dark. 

"That's the butcher up there," Joel says, pointing to one of the wooden buildings. "He gets the meat from the traps prepped for us." He points to another building with a sign that says RESTAURANT. "That's the bakery."

"A butcher and a bakery?" You ask. "Do you have electricity here?"

"Sure do. Solar panels, just outside the gate."

You continue walking through the town until you come up on a large white building, people entering and exiting through a set of thick double doors. The shadow of a cross remains above the door, perhaps scorched by the sun where a crucifix once sat. People welcome Joel as he enters, heads turning in their curiosity. You press a little closer to Joel's side.

The large room is bursting with noise and activity -- a flurry of conversations, the clink of cutlery, and laughter. You've not seen anything like it before, the mentality in the QZ not conducive to camaraderie. You can count on one hand the number of people you would have considered friends within those walls, and even that was a stretch. You and Joel join a line of people retrieving plates of food from a single window. 

"How long has all of this been here?" You ask, gesturing to the room. He looks around proudly.

"Ellie and I came across this town on accident after we went through hell leavin' Boston. The folks here set up their own quarantine zone and with bigger fish to fry, FEDRA sort of left ‘em alone. They were kind enough to take us in," he says. "After that, more people started showin' up lookin' for safety. Lots of people who escaped the QZs or had been on their own for a while and were tired of runnin'."

"Ellie says you save people," you comment, taking a step forward as the line moves. "What's that mean?"

"Every flock needs a shepherd."

You’re at the front of the line now, standing in front of the window. A woman appears, her face lighting up when she sees Joel.

“Joel! How are you?” She asks, leaning onto the ledge. Behind her you can see people moving quickly and efficiently around a stainless steel kitchen, large pots of food simmering on the stovetop. 

“Well enough,” he says. He places a hand on your shoulder. “We have a new guest. Make her plate nice and full for me?”

“Of course.” 

She gathers a plate from a precarious stack, loading it with a heaping pile of food ranging from mashed potatoes and stew to colorful vegetables that you haven’t seen in ages, not since before the outbreak when you were seven and your dad would make dinner rather than pass you a ration package. You’re speechless as she hands you the plate with a kind smile, a mumbled thank you the best you can manage to show your gratitude.

Joel is handed a plate as well and you follow him to a table where Ellie sits next to a man with white hair, her plate already empty in front of her. The man looks up at Joel as you approach, his expression closed off and wary. 

“Michael,” Joel says in greeting, jaw ticking. You take a seat beside Ellie, who to your surprise moves closer to you, arm brushing yours. “You botherin’ Ellie?”

The man, Michael, shakes his head. “No, sir. We were just having a little talk.”

“What about?” Joel sits on the opposite side of the table. He rips his bread roll in half. 

“Just some concerns I was having.”

“You bring your concerns to me. Not to her.”

The two men stare at each other, the tension thick and impossible to ignore. Finally, Michael gets up, leaving the table without another word. Ellie’s shoulder’s lose their tension and Joel catches her eye, the two of them seeming to have an entire conversation in just a look.

The moment passes and Joel’s features relax, a smile tilting the corners of his lips as he returns his attention to you and gestures to your plate.

“Dig in,” he says.

Joel walks you back to his home after dinner, the sky now dark. Ellie’s already closed herself in her room by the time the two of you return, having left the mess hall before you had finished eating. 

“Tired again?” Joel asks when you yawn, mouth open wide as you stretch your arms above your head. 

Your expression is sheepish as you say, “A little bit.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assures you. “You fought a hard fight. It’s okay to relax now. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle in the hem of the t-shirt he’d given you earlier. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You can use the shower and get to bed.”

“Oh my god, a shower sounds amazing.”

He shows you the bathroom and helps you get the water running. Once he shows you where to find a towel, you smile gratefully before shutting the door on him.

Dismissed, Joel makes his way to Ellie’s room, knocking on the door. She answers quickly, opening up only enough for him to see her face.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Can I come in?” 

She rolls her eyes but opens the door further, allowing him inside. Her room is smaller than his but far more decorated, pages ripped out of old magazines and comic books tacked to the wall. She takes a seat on her single bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“What did Michael talk to you about?” He asks. She shrugs her shoulders. Joel bites back a sigh. Sometimes he forgets what it was like to reason with a teenage girl. “Ellie.”

“He said” — she pauses, scratching at her wrist in the way that she will when she’s anxious — “he said that you were full of shit. That your fucked up ceremony isn’t helping any of them.”

Joel’s teeth grind together. “That all?”

“Called me a stupid kid for following what you say,” she mumbles. “Said everyone in town was stupid for believing you.”

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says. Rage burns in his veins as he turns to leave. 

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asks as he reaches the door.

“I’m goin’ to teach him a lesson.”

He pulls the door shut behind him, tilting his head against the wood with a sigh. The click of a latch down the hall precedes your quiet, “Joel?”

Joel turns to face you, surprised to find you standing just outside the bathroom door with a towel tucked around your body. Water glistens on your skin in the low light, drawing his eyes down your neck and across your chest. He clears his throat.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you murmur. “I…could I get some new clothes?”

“Of course, should’a given you some before you showered. Sorry about that.” 

Joel walks past you, entering his bedroom and approaching the dresser. He tugs the top drawer open, full of clothing he’d gathered while you’d been asleep for more than a day. He piles together another t-shirt, sleep pants, and underwear, setting them on the bed for you. 

You’re standing in the doorway when he finishes and he fights the urge to go to you, to pull you close, to run his wretched hands over your body like he’s wanted to since he first saw you in the forest. 

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. You still have much to learn.

“Here you go,” he says. “Some more stuff in the drawers for you if you need it.”

Joel leaves you to get ready for bed, shutting the door behind him. He heads downstairs to grab what he’ll need, essentials shoved in a bag thrown over his shoulder before venturing off into the night.

Only a few lights continue to illuminate windows as Joel walks through the residential area. The house he approaches at the end of a street is already dark, quiet beyond the wood door that he knocks on three times. The door opens slowly, Michael appearing in the small space. 

“What?” He grunts.

“Come take a walk,” Joel says. Michael rolls his eyes, moving to shut the door but Joel’s boot blocks his effort. “I ain’t askin’, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?” He challenges. Joel throws his weight against the door, catching Michael by surprise enough for him to step into the house.

Joel throws an elbow into the man’s gut, making him double over with a groan. He circles behind him, kicking the back of his knee to send him to the ground. He pulls a length of chain from his pocket, looping it around Michael’s neck and pulling the ends.

Michael struggles, clawing at the garotte and thrashing wildly, but Joel holds strong. He tightens his grip further until Michael’s fight becomes sluggish, lack of oxygen finally causing him to go limp.

Joel releases the chain and Michael’s body slumps to the ground. He removes his backpack, digging through the contents until he finds a rusted pair of handcuffs that he uses to bind Michael’s arms behind his back. Next, he places a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

When he wakes, Joel will lead him out past the gate. He will find an unassuming home that rests outside the boundary of Crestone. He will open the hidden doors of the cellar, the ones covered in a layer of leaves and grass. From the darkness he will hear the echo of desperate groans and the rattle of chains and the angry attempts to break free from bindings. He will lead Michael down the dirt steps, the smell of rot and fear and death clawing at his olfactory nerves. 

He will place a burlap bag over a struggling Michael’s head and the man will beg and plead in words muffled by tape. Then, Joel will offer him for judgment.

A hand on you shoulder shakes you awake, the room still mostly dark when you manage to open your eyes. You groan, pulling the quilt up over your head.

“C’mon, we gotta get to breakfast,” Ellie says. The cover gets yanked down and she gives you a mischievous grin. 

“Where’s Joel?” You ask, sitting up slowly. She shrugs.

“Probably there already.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching your arms up. You grab the same jeans and socks from the day before, changing into them quickly and sitting down on the floor to pull your sneakers on. Ellie watches you, her foot tapping impatiently.

“You can go without me if you’re in a rush,” you offer. She shakes her head.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

You follow her out of the house, her clipped pace difficult to keep up with due to your lingering pain. As the sun starts to rise and you pass by more of the houses, you notice something peculiar about some of them.

“What’s that?” You ask, pausing in front of one the houses. There’s a streak of what looks like dark red paint across the top of the door. Ellie doubles back and stands beside you.

“Protection,” she says. 

“From what?” 

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Rather than answer, she walks away, leaving you to catch up to her or be left behind.

As the two of you start to walk through the square, there’s a rush of people around you. Shouting can be heard up ahead as a crowd comes into view, gathered around the front of the mess hall building. People press in close together, craning their necks to see over each other and catch a glimpse of whatever spectacle has their attention.

Ellie pushes through the crowd and you follow close on her heels until she manages to break through the other side of the wall of people. You catch glimpses of something writhing on the ground, something animal but not quite, something failed and fetid and foul. Another peek affords you a view of an arm littered with bite marks shaped by blunt teeth, deep gouges into their skin that shine red with blood and fester with disease.

Joel appears, stepping around the side of the building. The whispers cease, the crunch of Joel’s boots and pained groans the only noise to be heard in the stale air.

His dark eyes scan the crowd. People shrink back from his gaze, pressing closer to each other for relief. He reaches down, curling his fingers into the burlap material and yanking it off to reveal a man, familiar and yet not recognizable. Unseeing eyes, ashen skin, and dark red veins now the hallmark characteristics of the man you now remember as the one who had been talking to Ellie in the dining hall.

Joel draws a gun from his back, aiming it at Michael’s head. “Let this be a lesson,” he says, pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, making you jump. The agonized sounds come to abrupt halt and his body goes limp, eyes still open as blood blooms on the ground around him. 

“No blood spilled. No blood saved,” Joel says. You look up from the horrible scene and meet his hard gaze. You step back, turning and shoving your way through the crowd.

Then, you run.

You’re frantically shoving clothing into your bag when a door slams downstairs and heavy footsteps climb the stairs at a quick pace. You can feel the burn of Joel's eyes on your back, his presence in the room thick and cloying as you refuse to turn around, even when he murmurs your name.

He moves closer, a hand on your shoulder prompting you to turn to break the connection. He holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back as he says, "Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain?! How the fuck do you explain that?!" You snap. 

"If you'll just listen--"

"There's nothing you could possibly say that will--"

"Ellie is immune!" He shouts. Your words die on the tip of your tongue, lost to ether as you stare at Joel. 

"W-what do you mean? Immune?" You ask. 

He takes a deep breath. "I told you what my friend said. 'Save who you can save'. The first person I saved was Ellie."

"I helped her out of Boston, kept her safe, nearly lost my life if it meant keepin' her alive," He continues. "That's what I offer here."

"So you think you're....what? Some kind of god? That you can grant immunity?"

He huffs a laugh, the noise devoid of any humor. "God abandoned his worst experiment in their time of need. There is no god anymore, just the poor creatures he left behind. Someone had to take up the mantle."

"But how?"

"The ceremony," he says. 

"That’s not a fucking answer, Joel!” You shout. “What fucking ceremony?!”

“Blood spilled for blood saved. You can’t make it in this world without givin’ your everythin’ first.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt, just enough to reveal a jagged scar to the right of his belly button, shiny scar tissue disrupting smooth tan skin. “I did this for Ellie. Now everyone else has to do it for themselves.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You take a small step closer to inspect the wound, raising your hand and reaching out with a tentative touch. Joel inhales sharply as you run your fingers across the puckered flesh. 

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand up and holding it against his chest. “It’ll be easier to show you, okay? There’s a ceremony in a couple days.”

“I don’t—“

“You’re just afraid because this is somethin’ new, but I promise you that you got nothin’ to be scared of. I’ll take care of you.” He lifts a hand to your face, tilting your chin with his thumb. “I just need you to trust me.”

His eyes are honest, earnest, pleading with you to believe him and the longer you search them, the more truth you seem to find. He will take care of you. You just know it.

“Okay.”

Dinner is served early on the day of the ceremony, the room buzzing with excited conversation. You haven’t seen Joel much the last few days, just passing glimpses, and Ellie says it’s because he has a lot to prepare for. Tonight there’s a woman at his side wearing a white dress that flows to the floor, black hair braided down her back. She smiles at Joel, hanging on every word you can’t hear. It makes your stomach clench in a weird way when her hand curls around his bicep and her head leans against his shoulder.

“That’s Marcy. She’s volunteered for the ceremony,” Ellie says. She’s sitting across from you, a smirk on her lips. “S’why she’s been hanging around Joel the last few days. Joel’s gotta prepare her.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply, picking at the vegetables on your plate. “What does…what does he do? To prepare her.”

She shrugs. “Dunno.”

You glance at the pair. Joel leans in close to the woman, whispering into her ear. Your fingernails dig into the meat of your palm, your hands curled into tight fists beneath the table. He stands, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he calls the people to attention, voices fading until silence envelops the room. 

“Tonight,” Joel says, “another is to be saved. And we will all bear witness to the gift of deliverance that only self-sacrifice can grant.”

It’s only a few words, but the power in them is palpable as you glance around the room at the entire town watching him with rapt attention. His eyes meet yours.

“Save who you can save,” he intones. A chill runs down your spine.

“Save who you can save,” the town echoes back. 

The sun is already low on the horizon, twilight casting a soft glow on the scene. You stand at the back of the crowd, watching as Joel leads Marcy onto a raised wooden platform. Another man joins them, passing something wrapped in cloth into Joel’s outstretched hands. 

“The thing about the world today,” Joel says, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a large knife, “is that there ain’t a single guarantee.” He looks out over the crowd. “Except here, within these walls. Why? Because here you’ll make the greatest sacrifice and earn the greatest reward.”

He begins to pace the length of the platform, knife in hand. “Givin’ your blood in exchange for your safety? That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” The people around you nod their heads in agreement. “You’ve seen what that sacrifice can do. I did it for Ellie. I did it for myself. And tonight—“ he places a hand on Marcy’s shoulder “—another has made the choice to earn that gift of protection.”

A cheer erupts, spreading through the crowd through shouts and applause. You find yourself joining them, clapping your hands together as you continue to watch Joel. 

“Marcy,” Joel says. “What brings you here today?”

“No blood spilled, no blood saved,” she recites dutifully. 

“Are you afraid?” He asks.

“No,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I trust in your protection.”

Joel smiles at her, beaming with pride, and that knot in your stomach from earlier returns with a vengeance. You want him to look at you like that.

He stands in front of her, blocking her from view with his body. A hush falls over the crowd and from the silence erupts an anguished scream. You flinch, the sound piercing and painful and petrifying, though it seems to have taken nobody else by surprise.

Another scream as he jerks his arm back, the knife in his hand now stained with red that slides down the blade, dripping to the wood beneath his feet. He steps to the side and you can see the woman now, her hands pressed to her belly. Crimson blooms beneath her hands, marring her pretty white dress and leaching the color and vitality from her face. She drops to her knees and so does Joel, who wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently guides her until she’s lying on her back. He holds her hand and smooths her hair from her face as she just repeats, “Thank you.”

Slowly, the strength in her voice fades. Her arm goes limp in his grasp, dropping to the floor with a dull thud as her eyes flutter shut. Joel whistles sharply, three men rushing up the platform and lifting the girl into their arms, careful not to jostle her too much. Joel remains kneeling, his head turning to scan the crowd.

“We are born covered in blood,” he says. “It gives you protection from the outside world when you’re wrenched from the womb. And it will protect you now as it is wrenched from you.”

He steps off the platform and walks past the crowd, heading for the residential street. Everyone shuffles forward, moving en masse like sheep following their shepherd or cattle to the slaughter. You’re led to one of the smaller homes and you watch as Joel smooths the flat of the blade across his hand, gathering blood in his palm. 

He places his palm on the door, smearing the blood across the faded blue paint. When he’s done, he turns to face the crowd.

“Marcy has earned her protection. Those of you among us that have not yet made your sacrifice, may you return home this evenin’ and realize that each passin’ day is a wasted opportunity for your salvation.” His serious expression softens as he smiles. “No blood spilled.”

“No blood saved,” the crowd says.

To your surprise, the words fall easily from your lips.

Joel shuts the door quietly behind him. He’s just finished checking on Marcy and was pleased to find that her wound has been dressed and she’s recovering well. At the kitchen sink he runs the water as hot as he can tolerate and scrubs his hands clean.

He can hear faint footsteps upstairs, the sound of your pacing back and forth in his bedroom. He’s pleased that you stayed through the entire ceremony, didn’t run away filled with fear or disgust like you had watching him make an example out of Michael. 

There’s hope for you yet.

Joel dries his hands on a towel and heads upstairs. He glances at Ellie’s room out of habit, though he knows it’s empty. She likes to help out after the ceremony, usually sticking beside the town nurse, Shelly, as she monitors the person who participated in the ceremony over night. 

The door to his bedroom is shut but he can see that the light is on, the glow of it seeping out from the gap beneath the door. He knocks, three sharp raps of his knuckles, and waits.

You pull the door open, and Joel is once again struck by how much he wants you, how much he’s craved you since the first time he saw you. You look up at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t sense any fear as you pull the door open further and step back to let him enter.

“You doin’ okay?” He asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. You’re standing with your arms wrapped around yourself, nodding quietly. Joel moves closer, tentatively reaching out to tilt your chin up so that he’s looking into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I….,” your voice trails off. You take a breath. “I want that protection.”

He was hoping you would say that. Relief floods through him.

“I can’t do that,” he says. Your brows pinch together, hurt flashing across your features. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

“But—“

“Listen to me—“ his hands frame your face, thumbs smoothing over the high points of your cheeks “—you’re meant for somethin’ different here.”

“Something different?” You repeat. You shake your head slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you lose a drop,” he whispers. “You don’t need to bleed, sweetheart. Not like them. I’ll protect you myself.”

Your mouth drops open the slightest bit, drawing Joel’s gaze. He slides his thumb across your bottom lip, mesmerized by the softness of it. There’s not much about his life the last twenty or so years that he would call soft.

There was his brother, Tommy, even though they couldn’t see eye to eye and had to part ways. His daughter, Sarah, before the outbreak. She took care of him, made sure he took his vitamins and packed his lunch and didn’t miss a parent-teacher conference. She was light and joy, his heart outside of his body, and she was ripped from his grasp.

There was Tess, who was not a soft person but was a soft place to land among the carnage. Bill, ornery though he was, and Frank, arguably his better half. They were a breath of normalcy, even when Bill had a gun trained on him. Ellie, once she quit being a pain in the ass and wormed her way into his heart with her promise to follow him wherever he went.

And now there was you.

“Will you let me do that?” Joel asks. “Protect you?”

You lift your hands, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists. He wonders if you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse pounding beneath your grip. Finally, after a long moment, you whisper, “Yes.”

Joel captures your lips with his, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You’re tentative, a bit clumsy with your movements as you kiss back and he pulls away, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

While his words don’t stop your pulse from racing, they do calm your nerves the slightest bit. It’s not that you’ve never been interested in sex, there was just never a good opportunity. Going through puberty in an apocalypse where a militant government faction monitors your every move in exchange for basic necessities wasn’t exactly conducive to forming intimate relationships. 

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Joel moves you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and he urges you to sit down. He kneels in front of you, working on the laces of your sneakers, removing them and setting them to the side. He looks up at you as he removes your socks and you’re not sure if you're supposed to find the sight of him kneeling at your feet as sexy as you do, but a rush of warmth rolls through you all the same.

He runs his palms up your legs, across your thighs, until his fingertips find the waist of your jeans, popping the button of the fly and pulling the zipper down. 

“Lift your hips a bit, sweetheart,” he says, working the denim down and off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands return to your thighs, goosebumps erupting along their path to your hips. 

“No one’s touched you here?” He asks, here being the soft skin of your inner thigh that his thumbs sweep across. You shake your head. He moves higher, a featherlight touch over the elastic of your underwear that makes you gasp. “What about here?”

“N-no,” you manage to whisper. He smiles at you, the same proud smile he’d given Marcy that you were so desperate to have for yourself. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of your knee quickly before sitting up higher, reaching up to lift your shirt up, tugging it over your head and dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing.

“Lie back for me,” Joel commands. You shift up the mattress and follow his instruction, bringing your arms up to cover your exposed breasts. He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue, pulling your arms away as he crawls up the mattress to settle between your legs.

“None of that,” he admonishes, planting your hands by your head. He kisses your lips again, butterflies erupting in your stomach when his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding. He palms one of your breasts, hands rough on the delicate skin. “This is mine, do you understand?”

Joel brings his mouth to your breast, tongue swirling over your stiff nipple. You cry out, the foreign sensation making more heat rush through you, leaving you throbbing between your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes as he sucks your nipple between his lips, releasing it with a lewd pop.

“Mine to touch,” he says, leaning on one arm to trail his fingers down your stomach. “Mine to kiss.” His lips trace the same heated path. “Mine to protect.”

When he reaches your underwear, he pulls back. “Look at that,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing across the gusset, making you whimper and squirm. “You’ve soaked your panties, sweetheart.”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry? Ain’t nothin’ you need to be sorry about,” he says with a chuckle. He sits up, working your only remaining barrier between you down your legs. He spreads your legs with his hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you look so pretty, baby.”

“Really?” You ask. His answering grin is wolfish. 

“So pretty,” he repeats. He settles on his belly, face so close to your pussy you can feel the warmth of his breath against your heated flesh. “Gotta get you ready.”

Your response to the question is cut off with a high pitched moan as Joel runs his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with broad strokes. You try to close your legs against the sensation but his strong hands keep your thighs pinned down near the mattress.

He groans as he sets a slow and measured pace, alternating attention to your clit with dipping his tongue inside of you, dragging your essence from the source. Your hands clench in the sheets, chasing and retreating from the overwhelming sensation in equal measure.

There’s a blunt pressure that turns into a slight pinch as Joel slips a finger into your tight heat. Your head tilts back with a high keening noise and you’re panting, desperate for breath as he moves his hand in tandem with his tongue.

One finger becomes two that thrust and curl and part inside of you, stretching you in unfamiliar ways. It feels good, and all you want is more, more, more.

Joel’s hand moves quickly and he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves until that flood of relief that you’ve only accomplished a handful of times on your own washes over you, your back arching sharply off the mattress as you shout his name like a prayer to the heavens.

His motions slow to a stop and he leaves the bed. You hear the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothing being removed before his weight returns between your legs, a new heat to be felt against your flushed skin with his clothes no longer in the way. With shaky hands you reach up to touch him, starting at his shoulders.

You trail your hands across his warm tan skin, down his hard chest and softer belly. That scar, the one that frightened you before, leaves you breathless as you run your fingers over it now. He’s so strong, so powerful, and he wants you. Wants to protect you so that you don’t know that same pain.

“Joel,” you whisper. He leans forward, hands on the mattress beside your head. He kisses you, slow and all encompassing. You can feel the hard length of his sliding through the mess he’s made of you and you gasp.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he says, face serious, “there ain’t any goin’ back from this. You’re mine. You got that?”

“I trust you,” you reply. Your response earns you a deep groan from the man, a kiss to your forehead that precedes the blunt head of his cock pressing to your soaked entrance.

His cock is thicker, much thicker, than his fingers were and you whine at the intrusion. His shushes you, peppering your face with soothing kisses. 

“I don’t think—“

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart, I know you can handle it,” Joel says. “Take a deep breath, just a little more.”

Tension gives way, a sharp pinch that turns into an ache as Joel presses his hips firmly against yours. He kisses your neck and trails his nose across your sweat damp skin, holding still as you adjust to his girth.

You shift your hips the slightest bit and Joel’s moan echoes your gasp. “Tell me I can move,” he begs, another desperate kiss pressed to your lips. “Please, baby.”

There’s something heady about the power you have in this brief moment, a man like Joel begging you for something when he’s used to having everything. You nod and that’s all the encouragement he needs to draw back slowly, that fullness leaving you inch by inch, before thrusting sharply.

It’s unlike any experience you’ve had before — the way his body moves with yours, the flex of his muscles above you, the intense look in his eyes each time he presses inside of you.

“Made for me,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, moaning as each drag of his cock presses against a tender spot inside of you that has your stomach tightening rapidly.

His effort doubles, hips slamming hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. You dig your nails into his back, watch the clench of his jaw against the sting, and moan his name as you succumb to the feeling of free falling into bliss, clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” he growls, hips stilling against yours as warmth pulses inside of you, his mouth dropped open on a groan of your name.

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before withdrawing from you. He reaches his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers into your swollen pussy as you gasp.

He holds those fingers up, the light catching on the red staining them.

Perhaps you’d spilled blood for your safety after all.

You wake to the early morning light filtering through the window, a noticeable ache between your legs as you begin to stir. You’re naked, having fallen asleep in Joel’s arms last night, his lips caressing your neck until you’d drifted off and dreamt of blood and wolves. You stretch your limbs, encountering only cold sheets as you do.

As you sit up, you realize the sound of rushing water is the shower and surmise that Joel must be in there. With stiff movements you leave the warmth of the bed and approach the dresser, tugging open the top drawer to find clothing for the day.

You’re reaching for underwear when your fingers catch on something cold, metal in a sea of fabric. You pull on the object, unearthing it from its hiding spot and holding it up for inspection.

A cross, hanging from a silver chain. A chain you would tangle your fingers in as a child, a cross that a thumb would rub across as a deep, familiar voice muttered prayers.

The shower turns off and you take one last look at the crucifix before setting it back into the dark corner you’d unearthed it from.

Then, you shut the drawer. 

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[luveline]

i see ur thinking abt the marauders and i was just thinking abt them too!! i just saw a thread on twt abt how much men hate their girlfriends but wont break up with them (😖😖) and couldn't stop thinking abt how james would be so BAFFLED reading it!! would you be able to write something for that? its perfectly fine if not!! ily <33

I luv you! I'm not sure what thread you mean but I made a guess, sorry if it's not right ♡ fem, 1k

modern au. cw mention of toxic/hurtful relationships

"What is that?" James asks, pushing the sheets back as he climbs in beside you. His bowl of cereal is heaping, upwards of ten weetabix doused in milk, sugar, raspberries, blueberries, and a generous squeeze of honey.

"What?" you ask, showing him your phone screen. 

James leans over you to scroll back up. "Men who hate their girlfriends?" 

"Oh, it's like, people posting their screenshots, I think." You click on the tweet he'd been pointing at and show him the replies underneath. "It's just boys who act like they don't love their partners but won't break up with them either, there's loads on there." 

"What?" he asks, holding his bowl in one hand. "Can I?" You give him your phone happily, watching as he reads through some of the examples, screenshots from different websites and forums. "'Recently had to tell a friend's bird that he was calling her all sorts of names. I'm loyal to my friends, but you could hear the hatred in his voice sometimes. She left him two days later and he was surprised, for some reason.'"

James' eyebrows pinch. He continues, "'Am I in the wrong for asking my husband to stay awake with me during my early morning labour? He keeps bringing it up.'" James shows you your phone screen. "Like, he's mad she didn't let him sleep through the birth of their child?" 

"You know, there was a video on there a few weeks ago where a girl had put together a compilation of her boyfriend play fighting with her, and each video got nastier and nastier." You reach for the spoon to his bowl to start chopping up the weetabix the way he likes. "He was kicking her legs from under her and she was laughing it off. Once or twice, I'd think it was funny, but he wasn't even laughing himself." 

"Why the fuck?" James asks. 

"I don't know. Can I have a raspberry?" 

"They're in there for you to steal…" James watches you chew. You try not to pay too much attention to his staring, plopping your phone down in the sheets between your legs. "Why are these boys getting with women they don't like?" 

"I don't know, Jamie," you tell him honestly, wading through his bowl for another raspberry. "I think they get comfortable." 

He accepts the spoon back from you and you slouch down the fabric headboard together. James eats his weetabix slowly, the TV sending a light blue light into your otherwise dark room. "It's a bit late for supper," you murmur. "Were you hungry?" 

James puts his bowl on the nightstand. Coils of curls brush your forehead as he leans down, one big hand on the back of your neck and the other stretched across the shoulder furthest away from him, holding you in place as he kisses the top of your head. It's a weighty kiss, full of love. "I love you. Don't ever let anyone treat you like those boys on your phone, yeah?" 

You hum lightly. "That's what boys are like." 

"I know. I'm just begging you not to let people do that to you." He rubs your shoulder roughly, a massaging that hurts in the good way. "You know, if you can. I get that it's not their choice." 

"Yeah. I think people want so badly to be loved that they'll take the pretend kind. I was lucky to find you before you found someone else. You always make me happy." 

"This is what I mean," he whines, resting his cheek on your forehead. You sigh happily at his touch, more than ready for a night of his arms around you, a heavy leg thrown over your hips to lock you in. "You think you're lucky because of those dickheads." 

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with them. Just you." 

James sits up to turn your face to his. "Love you," he says, kissing you quickly. 

"Love you too. Don't stress about the phone, babe, you're not the audience they're looking for." 

James hears your teasing tone toward the end, poking your side. "What's that for?" 

"Nothing, just, you tried to follow me into the bathroom last night even when I told you I wasn't showering. If you're that eager to sit with me while I pee, I doubt you'll be the kind of guy who ends up on that forum." 

"It wasn't about the peeing, stop trying to shame me," he grumbles, again pulling you in for a hug, "it was separation anxiety. I miss you."

"I get why these women end up like that, though," you say quietly. "I get why they stay. If you started shoving me for a laugh or whatever, I'd think about this, because you love me. Does that make sense? I'm so happy right now that I wouldn't want to believe that you didn't love me anymore." 

"I know. It's fucking sad. I can't believe they do shit like that, it's pure selfishness." James settles back in his pillow. "I wouldn't ever do that shit to you. I know everyone says that, but I have to say it anyway." 

"I know, Jamie. Don't worry. I'm not worried about it, only talking." 

You offer him your hand. James takes it, rubs the back of it, brings it to his lips for a barely felt kiss. "Is there anything happy on that app?" he asks. 

"Uh, I saw a video of a baby girl who only stops crying when her cat comes to check on her. Or a pregnancy reveal where the boyfriend starts crying and begging her to get married." 

James rests his face on your shoulder, snuffling into your skin contentedly, "Ah, so my future. Put it on, angel." 

[thespineoftherighteous]

more more more more aftg show bloopers (p 4?? I think?) whoop whoop de fuckin whoop

Neil's actor being a huge Duolingo dork and in the behind the scenes while the other actors are fooling around between takes you can often see him with his head bent and hear the little 'ping!'s coming from his phone

also during late night shoots, as it gets closer to midnight he always has a point where he's like SHIT my Duolingo streak. and then just blocks out everyone while his fingers fly over his screen

(fans make compilations of him proudly showing his Duolingo streak to the camera and the number grows as the seasons progress)

(he definitely is the kinda bitch who cares more about maintaining the streak than actually learning languages)

actually omg while we're on the topic of languages

Kevin's actor tenderly reciting his French lines to Matt's actor and Matt's actor is just smitten. and he goes "say something else, love" and Kevin's actor strokes his cheek while saying another one of his lines and Matt swoons

(then Kevin's actor turns to the camera and goes "I just told him that he's a disappointment and is going to get his ass handed to him by ravens if he doesn't do exactly as I say" and, from the ground, Matt's actor goes "hell yeah you did. talk dirty to me any day of the week you sexy, sexy man")

coach's actor is always swearing to the point where they implement a swear jar...really it's just something for the kids to jokingly rag on him about, but he goes with it, and every so often they'll empty the jar to buy the cast and crew pizza

they're filming outside at night and it's cold and in between takes Matt's Aaron's and Renee's actors are all huddled together for warmth and Matt's actor gets pulled aside to get his makeup touched up and the other two just shriek at the absence of his heat and catch up to him to tuck themselves against him again

Andrew needs to snap his fingers in one scene but everyone finds out that day that his actor doesn't know how to snap so he has a little impromptu snapping lesson and of course it turns into everyone else trying to one-up each other with their snapping abilities

Nicky's actor telling everyone what he's going to steal from set (will literally say"[about Allison's bathrobe] damn that shit soft as hell. Ive been needing a new bathrobe actually. I'm stealing this" or "I'm stealing this lighter/bandana/sunglasses/etc") but because his humor is so dry everyone thinks he's joking. until months later. when the prop department can't find shit

Renee's actress is doing something completely mundane but Neil's and Allison's actors start narrating what she's doing like they're in a nature documentary (always with Australian accents for some reason??)

"and our specimen now reclines herself vertically on a piece of furniture us humans know as 'a desk.' this clearly less-developed creature seems not to understand the purpose of such an object. but given that this is her first time outside her natural habitat (the jungle) her lack of familiarity with modern technology is to be expected"

Renee's actress: *flips them off*

"ah and here we witness one of the most common behaviors of this specimen. specialists have dubbed it 'flipping the bird,' and explain it as a nonverbal expression of affection" "oh fuck off"

photo from another cold night-shoot and it's of Matt's and Dan's actors, she's standing in front of him zipped up in his hoodie, just her head poking out and they're having a conversation with other castmates like it's the most normal thing in the world, looking the very image of the couple they play

so much glorious content from shooting the dorm sleepover scene. the most popular thing to come from it is a picture from after they wrapped where the cast and some members of the crew had moved even closer to each other amid all the blankets and are asleep on top of each other

Andrew's actor will sometimes actually eat the ice cream he's given instead of just pretending to eat it, and halfway through the scene he casually mentions that he's lactose intolerant and sends the crew into a worried frenzy

if you haven't clocked it yet, these bitches are competitive. and one day, one thing led to another, and soon a bunch of the actors are all being filmed having a plank-holding competition. Dan's actress is the first to drop and she gets booed at for it because "you're an ex-stripper where tf is that upper body strength?"

she flips them off and goes to sit on Kevin's actor, hoping to squash his plank, but instead he starts doing push ups with her on his back. she grins

(Rikos actor wins that competition btw. and Neil's actor goes on a rant about "we succumbed to the ENEMY? a RAVEN? your characters would be ashamed of you" (he also lost?))

Allison's actress pretending to do a get-ready-with-me using all the stuff on Allison's vanity

Wymack's actor falling asleep in The Dad Pose™ when they're shooting a scene on the bus. and everybody gathers in to take pictures

when Kevin and Neil get all up in each other's faces their actors will pretend like they're going to kiss each other

not really a blooper but just all the actors for the foxes and the ravens mingling together in between takes and it looks so wrong

give me all the actors constantly taking the piss out of their characters

for ex during a scene where the monsters are in the car on the way to Edens, Nicky's actor looks towards the backseat where everyone is in character and goes wow what a fun crowd we are you'd never believe we're about to hit the club

night shoots are a. struggle. for Dan's actress. and the others love to take videos of her just standing on her mark with the most spaced out expression on her face

Andrew's and Neil's actors are shooting one of their typical intense, deep scenes and after one take, as soon as "cut" is called, Andrew's actor grabs Neil's face and starts serenading him with the song that's been stuck in his head all day

Renee's actress getting scolded for sneaking snacks into her costume

when Nicky's actor messes up a line (and he's the least likely of everyone to do it) he starts spewing Spanish

Andrew's actor constantly teasing his brother and Katelyn's actress whenever they have scenes together

like the two of them will just be talking together in between takes and Andrews actor will be behind the camera recording them and saying shit like "look at that MINYARD RIZZ" (or he'll use their actual last name) "hey btw [Katelyn's actor] I taught him everything he knows"

that scene where the foxes are rushing out of the dorm to check on their destroyed cars and Matt's actor just faceplants (Neil's actor: "wow. the dedication")

in one scene or other Allison's actress is drinking an iced drink and during one take she just keeps calmly shaking the ice around in her cup until one by one everyone cracks

in one scene Allison's actress is wearing sunglasses. and in between takes she lies down and on camera you can see Kevin and Matt's actors whispering trying to figure out whether or not she's sleeping because they can't see her eyes

Aaron's actor always using Neil's actor as a pillow during car scenes because they're always next to each other and they're actually hella tight irl

the kids love to steal any props that coach's actor needs to use (pens clipboards etc) before they start rolling just so they can watch him try to subtly fidget trying to find his prop before they get to the point in the scene where he actually needs it

all the actors just taking pictures together in the most brutal settings on set.

like Neil's makeup has his face all busted and everyone wants a selfie with him. they all have a photoshoot with the trashed cars. they have another one in front of the "happy 19th birthday junior" set. Neil is tied up at The Nest while they change his hair and Jean's and Riko's actors take selfies with him. another photoshoot with Neil handcuffed in the police car. all these settings in terrible scenes and the actors are in front of them with grins and peace signs

they're terrible.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi!! Thank y'all for finding all these fics for us and categorizing everything really well!

I was wondering if y'all have any fics where they accidentally kiss? I know it's a bit specific but something like they fall or something dumb and accidentally kiss

Okay anyways thank you again!!

Here are some fics with accidental kisses...

Kiss by Halevetica (NR)

Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally lean in for a goodnight kiss and neither realize what just happened until moments later.

Come On Back and Kiss Me by summerofspock (T)

Crowley accidentally kisses Aziraphale goodbye, freaks out about it, and then finds out Aziraphale's been waiting for him to do it again.

'Til I Kiss You by TardisInspired (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley have a dinner out after the Nopocalypse. They then decide that they need a 'New Arrangement'.

Finders Keepers by angelsnuffbox (T)

Each encounter with Crowley left him breathless, but they had never ventured into anything more than those chance encounters. That was until today, on the night of their corporate halloween party, with Aziraphale asking for his help and Crowley actively following him around - in matching costumes, no less. Aziraphale would be so thrilled were he not filled with anxiety over his current predicament. Oh dear, he would never hear the end of it from Michael if he didn't find that dumb sword.

Blame It on the Goose by almaasi (G)

Village shenanigans AU where neighbours Aziraphale and Crowley are given the runaround by a particularly rude goose. Or: When Anthony J. Crowley moves to a pleasant English village, he expects to begin a peaceful life, gardening and minding his own business. He pretends not to notice his new neighbour, some flamboyant toff named Azira-something, who seems to do nothing but eat, and illustrate birds. But there’s a horrible goose on the loose, and it and its friends are causing a disturbing amount of havoc. Stealing shoes, squashing flowers, unlocking gates, tangling hosepipes... and sending Crowley out of the house with no clothes on in the middle of the night to borrow some underpants from the aforementioned neighbour. The entire population of Lower Tadfield is in uproar over these innocent-looking monsters. Something must be done! If Aziraphale and Crowley have to team up to defeat a gaggle of psychotic geese, so be it. And if they happen to like each other more than expected, so be that, too. What good is a peaceful life without a dear friend, anyhow?

- Mod D

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[akookminsupporter]

ARE YOU SURE?!: FOURTH EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes for the second time.

Okay, this episode picks up right where the last one left off—obviously, Rosie, haha! 

If there’s one thing BTS love almost as much as being on stage and their fans, it’s food, haha! 

One of the things I adore about Jimin and Jungkook, or the maknae line in general, is how silly they can be, but in the cutest way possible. 

To Jimin, Jungkook will always be cute, just like Jimin will always be pretty to Jungkook. 

I can totally see why they love Jeju so much—it’s gorgeous. 

Ahhh, Tae saying he loves travelling with Jimin and Jungkook is adorable. 

Honestly, the best places to eat are often in the sketchiest streets or the hardest to find. I feel like that’s almost a universal law, haha! 

Ahhh, who would’ve thought that in 2024—or technically 2023—we’d see Jimin openly talking about his tattoos in official content, haha. Jimin really loves the moon, and so does Jungkook. I’ve said it so many times, but I LOVE Jimin’s tattoos, especially the ones on his back. Selfishly, I’d love it if they covered his entire back, but obviously, my opinion doesn’t count, haha! 

Look, people can argue about Jikook, Taekook, Jinkook, etc., being Jungkook’s biggest ships, but no one seems to notice that Jungkook’s biggest ship is with good food. There’s no relationship more obvious and strong than that. That man LOVES to eat and cook. 

It’s the little things that often go unnoticed that I love about Jimin and Jungkook, like how, when they’re together, enjoying something or laughing at something funny, they always look at each other to confirm or make sure the other is feeling the same way, saw the same thing, or just to see their reaction. It’s like they’re looking to reaffirm what they’re already thinking or feeling. I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. For example, when they were eating sushi, Jimin or Jungkook would often turn to look at the other and nod, saying how delicious the food was, or reacting happily to what they were eating. It’s similar to when they’re at a concert, and they look at each other and nod as if to say, “Here we go” or “We’ve got this.” 

Ahhh, something I loved seeing in this episode was Jimin being more active, feeling better, and enjoying the trip. 

When Jungkook is eating, he’s oblivious to almost everything around him. It’s so funny watching him so immersed in his culinary experience while Jimin was massaging Tae’s neck because Tae wasn’t feeling well, haha. I mean, they mentioned his name, and he just didn’t hear it, even though Jimin and Tae were just inches away from him, hahaha! Jimin immediately explaining/justifying why Jungkook didn’t have the same neck issue as Tae is nothing new, haha. 

Jimin definitely has my sense of humour, haha! That’s why he and Yoongi bicker so much! Because they’re so similar. Understanding something literally and responding based on that is definitely my kind of humour, haha! 

Can someone please give Jimin and Jungkook a YouTube channel already? Jungkook would record everything and edit everything, and Jimin would be the frontman. That man is always pretending to be a YouTuber, and Jungkook always plays along. 

The passive-aggressive dynamic between Jungkook and Tae is so entertaining, but sometimes I can’t tell if Jungkook is being a cheeky brat or if he’s serious, haha! Again, I don’t get why so many people persist in not understanding the dynamic between those two. 

I recently tried sushi, and I get the hype now. I totally get the boys’ reaction, and I’m sure the sushi I had wasn’t as good, fresh, or authentic as what they were eating. 

The three of them honestly looked like baby birds waiting to be fed, haha! They take good food very seriously, haha! 

Something we saw a lot in this episode is how Jimin and Jungkook completely get each other’s quirks and know how to play along because it’s basically the same for both of them. Watching them with others, especially other members, just makes it more obvious because the other person, in this case, Tae, looks lost/confused about what Jimin and Jungkook are saying or doing, haha! 

Yes, Jimin, please do more shows like this! I’m totally on board. Jungkook obviously agrees. 

Okay, it’s sweet that Tae thought of Joon and wondered why he didn’t join them. Something no one can deny, no matter how hard they try, is that those seven guys love being together. They’re always thinking of each other, BUT the fact that Jungkook almost immediately responded that not everyone is invited/part of the show is such a MOOD. The fact that he did it while sounding and looking serious makes it even funnier. The way Jimin followed up by saying the show was really for him and Jungkook, practically implying that even Tae shouldn’t have been there and that he only was because they allowed it, is an even bigger MOOD. And then Tae wrapping it all up by saying he felt it and was grateful they invited him is pure comedy, but with a bit of dark humour. It made me wonder if even off-camera, Jimin and Jungkook kept reminding Tae that he was just a guest and the show was really for the two of them, haha! Ahhh, the passive-aggressive relationship between these three is something else. 

Jimin and Tae are just too adorable together. 

Jungkook is really a passive-aggressive brat with Tae, isn’t he? Haha! 

They’ll always be each other’s biggest fans. 

Tae basically rubbing it in our faces that he can just call up and ask for an unreleased song hurt, haha! The privilege of being a BTS member. It’s also lovely to hear how much admiration they have for each other.

“Alone” is truly an incredible song. It’s still one of my favourite Jimin tracks and one that feels deeply personal to me.

I don’t know if this happened to anyone else, but I was surprised when Jimin took his shirt off, and I’m not sure why, haha. It’s just, well, it’s so out of character for him! Even though he always says he walks around the house barely dressed and loves showing off his shoulder, hahaha. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining—I love seeing Jimin’s tattoos.

Jungkook was checking out Jimin, wasn’t he? He was.

Hearing Jungkook say “Jimin-ssi” will always give me life, haha.

Okay, I’ve mentioned this before, and it’s my first tinhat moment of the episode, but Jungkook reminded Jimin that the pool was see-through because he knows what they’re like when they’re together. It was like a warning, wasn’t it? Like, “Remember, they can see us,” hahaha.

Okay, I’m not really into comparing dynamics, but one of the reasons I think it’s great that Tae was with Jimin and Jungkook in this setting is that you can clearly see the dynamic between each duo and how Jimin and Jungkook’s is just different from the others. And like I said in another post, the way each duo played in the pool is a good description of each one and how different they are from each other. This doesn’t mean it makes one ship real or more real than the other; it just shows why many of us see Jimin and Jungkook’s dynamic as different and a bit more similar to that of a romantic couple.

Jungkook and Tae playing in the pool were like two energetic guys just having fun. It’s what you’d expect to see when you hear the words “pool” and “men” in the same sentence. And yes, that sounds a bit sexist and stereotypical, but that was the vibe they gave off, sorry.

Jimin and Jungkook, on the other hand, were two guys being silly and careful with each other. I’ve already mentioned this above, but Jimin and Jungkook share the same quirkiness, and that helps them understand each other on levels that other members don’t. Some people on Twitter said they “get each other’s freak,” and they’re right, and this becomes even more evident when another member is around them. That’s why I always say Jimin and Jungkook operate on a different frequency than the others. They just click. I didn’t say it—Jungkook did.

The way they play is also different. Sorry, but objectively speaking, it is, and even though many deny it, that doesn’t make it any less true. They always seem to be flirting. Jungkook is always a bit more careful when it comes to Jimin, especially when their games involve physical contact. There’s always an extra layer in their interactions that simply sets their dynamic or relationship apart from the rest. It’s no wonder their moments are always used by fans to describe what Jimin or Jungkook would be like as a boyfriend, husband, etc.

I think it’s important to highlight the breath-holding endurance those two have underwater, hahaha!

From what I saw on Twitter and some of the ASKs I’ve received, some people are upset because some Jikookers keep mentioning that Tae was just a guest, and although jikookers are saying this in reaction to the subgroup that last week was pretending the show was about Tae and Jungkook or all of BTS, they’re also doing it because Jimin and Jungkook wouldn’t stop mentioning it in this episode. They directly called Tae “the guest,” so I don’t understand the “upset.”

Tae seemed tired and apparently had a stomach ache or something, so maybe that’s why he didn’t join in the fun, but I also wonder if he didn’t do it because he wanted to give Jimin and Jungkook their space. It seems he did something similar on the yacht, but we’ll get to that later.

Guys, I’m not even halfway through the episode, and I’ve already written three pages. I wonder if anyone has actually made it this far. If someone is reading this, I’m sorry, I talk a lot, but I feel like so many things happened in this episode that I want to comment on, everything. Oh, and I still need to write my conclusions. Sorry!

Okay, the conversation about ramyeon. I suppose this is the second tinhat moment of the episode. It’s pretty clear that Jimin and Jungkook know the double meaning of the question “Do you want to eat ramyeon with me?” right? Right. So, starting from that premise, it seemed like they were referring to the double meaning of that question or the variation of the question that Jimin asked. Starting with the tone in which Jimin asked the question. Yes, Jimin probably meant the question literally, BUT they knew how suggestive it was. The tone of their voices and certain reactions during that conversation really didn’t help.

Now, “ppeuri.” Is that another one of Jimin and Jungkook’s inside jokes? Yes, they explained why Jimin said it, but the way Jungkook brought it up and Jimin’s reaction makes you think, and sometimes it’s bad to think too much when it comes to these two.

Jimin and Jungkook talking about eating ramyeon while half-naked with their tattoos on full display isn’t good for my heart, let alone my imagination. But seeing them so happy makes me happy.

Also, am I the only one who felt like they cut a part of them around the fire? I hope we see more of that moment in the behind-the-scenes.

Ahhh, the feeling of the everyday life of the first two episodes is back! Jimin and Jungkook talking while getting ready is the most domestic thing in the world. The fact that they then sat together—personal space isn’t a concept they understand—looking at their phones and talking about their plans is simply… normal.

Jungkook confirming with Jimin that he hadn’t slept at all since New York is… interesting. Did Jungkook travel to New York before going to Jeju? I don’t remember. Or was he talking about when he and Jimin were there together? Because if it’s the first one, why would Jimin know that (more or less rhetorical question), and if it’s the second one, wow. I mean, was the last time Jungkook slept well when he was with Jimin? Or is it because it was the last time he took a break? Even if it technically also counted as work? That moment was definitely edited and had parts cut out.

Jimin and Jungkook silently competing to see who got to the bed first is too funny, and the fact that Tae was awake or had woken up anyway makes it even funnier, hahaha!

Now, Jimin + Jungkook + bed = interesting, right? Haha. The way Jimin immediately threw his legs over Jungkook, and Jungkook just laughed and got more comfortable without even bothering to move them, really shows how at ease they are with each other. Although Jimin and Jungkook are pretty comfortable together, it's rare to see them in these kinds of situations or moments—or better yet, in bed together, haha—so it’s definitely interesting to see them like this. Jimin warning Jungkook not to hit him again was too funny.

And then, eventually, Jungkook gave his bed to Jimin.

Aww, Jungkook’s conversation with his mum was too sweet. The way they talk the same way is just adorable.

Once again, their relationship, especially Jungkook's, with food is something else, haha. And very serious.

Mate, Jimin and Jungkook teasing Tae sometimes is hilarious, haha.

Not Jungkook telling Tae he basically had to pay for his share of the food. Why is he like this?

Jimin and cats are a match made in heaven, and it’s cruel that he’s allergic.

The guys mentioning that another member would have enjoyed this or that, or wondering why they weren’t there, is just so heartwarming. They really do love each other and appreciate being together. BTS forever.

Yes, Jimin, you guys definitely need to do another show. You can call it whatever you want, but give us another show like this, please.

Jimin, I can tell you that the trips to the USA and Jeju were amazing! Fun. Wholesome. Thank you for sharing those moments with us.

It’s a shame Tae didn’t seem to be feeling well on the yacht, and I also think that wasn’t exactly his kind of fun? Not being on the yacht per se, but swimming or snorkelling like Jimin and Jungkook did. I also wonder if he was giving Jimin and Jungkook their space, after all, the show is about them, and everything they did was planned for the two of them.

Okay, Jimin pretending to be a paramedic giving first aid to one of the members isn’t new, but pretending to give mouth-to-mouth is?! And the way Jungkook didn’t seem surprised—sorry, but the editor’s comment, “A way-too-effective-kiss of life (?)” hello?! The way Jimin seemed embarrassed or shy immediately afterwards was too funny.

Jimin and Jungkook are just too cool. We often talk about how adventurous Jungkook is, but sometimes we forget that Jimin is just as adventurous. He likes fun things that some might consider extreme. He enjoys sports and risky stuff, maybe not as much as Jungkook, but almost. And that’s another thing they have in common, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that made planning many of the activities they did much easier.

Jimin and Jungkook are very good swimmers. Jimin and Jungkook just click.

I’d like to believe that once the group resumes activities, the agency editors won’t put stickers to cover their bodies when they’re semi-naked or showing “too much” skin, haha.

It’s funny how both the editors and Jimin and Jungkook themselves use any name but Jikook or Kookmin—though I think Kookmin would be the most obvious and familiar to them. Now it’s not Jikook but Jimkook. Maybe to avoid confusion, haha.

Well, in the end, Jimin and Jungkook did share a packet or cup of ramyeon. Haha.

Mate, the drone suddenly falling into the water was too funny, and I don’t even know why, haha. And Jungkook saying up until the last minute that Tae was the guest of the show is a mood.

Jimin and Jungkook cuddling while watching the sunset, with Jungkook filming it. That’s all that needs to be said.

Wait, didn’t Jungkook say that the drawing Jimin posted on Instagram was of a whale? I remember ARMY was saying it was a fish, I think? And he was like, “No! It’s a whale!” So why was Jungkook originally saying the cloud looked like a shark? Or was that a translation error?

I really loved how Tae respected some of the moments between Jimin and Jungkook and joined them at the right time.

MY CONCLUSIONS ON THE FOURTH EPISODE

God, this post is already too long, so I’ll try to be more concise here.

I really liked the episode. I think the vibe was a mix of what we saw in the first two episodes and the third one. Jimin feeling better changed the trio's dynamic, in my opinion.

Something I think I’ve mentioned several times before the first episode of this show even aired is that I was curious to see the dynamic between Jimin and Jungkook without the presence of the other members, and we got plenty of that in the first two episodes. I believe the contrast couldn’t have been clearer. I also remember saying something similar when it was confirmed that Tae would be in this part of the show. I said it would be interesting to see the dynamic between the three of them—not just without the other members but also in the context they were in. Again, the contrast between each pair and among the three of them couldn’t have been clearer, at least to me, and I think this episode made it even more apparent.

Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae get along really well, but they don’t always vibe on the same frequency. This means that when the fun ends, they can seem a bit awkward. Maybe it’s the cameras, I don’t know. In my post about the previous episode, I talked about how I see the dynamic between each pair, and in this one, where Jimin was more active, it was easier to “compare” the dynamics, especially when Jimin and Jungkook did similar things to what we saw Jungkook and Tae doing in the third episode. I’ve mentioned this above, but to sum up: they’re different. There’s something about the way Jimin and Jungkook interact that looks different. That sounds different. One thing I always notice is that the tone of their voices changes. It becomes softer, quieter. Calmer. And that only happens with them.

I loved the little moments of everyday life between Jimin and Jungkook. The moments of them just being themselves. Being together, having fun. That’s what the show is about, isn’t it?

I liked that, for whatever reason, Tae knew when to give them space. And I think this episode made it clear that this show is really just about Jimin and Jungkook. Even though it wasn’t necessary to prove the obvious, it’s pretty ironic that this happened after all the noise last week. Jikook karma is stronger than ever.

Jimin and Jungkook mentioning more than once that Tae was a guest was funny. They can be a bit petty when they want to be, but at the same time, I highly doubt they were upset about him joining the trip, as many fans have been suggesting. If they weren’t okay with Tae joining them, he wouldn’t have done so. I’m sure of that.

I’m surprised there’s going to be another episode in Jeju, to be honest, but I’m not complaining.

Final conclusion: I liked the episode. I liked seeing Jimin and Jungkook in sync again. Enjoying their holiday, they obviously deserved it and needed it. I’m glad Tae got to experience some of that too. That they were all together.

Now, I’ve seen some posts from the subgroup changing the narrative yet again. Insulting Jungkook and even his mum. How these people still have space in this fandom is beyond me. How no one else is calling them out for their behaviour—no one other than Jikookers, really—is inconceivable. Sad but not surprising. Not really. The narrative will change even more with the next episode, and it’ll be even more drastic once the episodes in Japan start airing. So, brace yourselves.

To those who were happy with this episode but not with the third one, I suggest you ask yourself what kind of fan you are. And I don’t mean a BTS fan; I mean, what kind of fan of Jimin and Jungkook are you really?

If you made it this far, thanks for reading all of this. I’m not sure if it makes sense. Apologies for any spelling and grammar mistakes. See you in the next episode, haha.

[junkissed]

april 20th: pot luck

member — fwb!chan x f reader genre — smut, fwb to lovers word count — 3.2k synopsis — you're no stranger to smoking in the park on 4/20, but smoking in the park while chan begs you to let him make you cum? that's new. content warnings — marijuana use (smoking), there's angst for like 3 seconds but not really smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), fingering, sexual acts in a semi-public setting (they're in a secluded area of a park), sexual acts while high, shotgunning, chan is clingy & cute when he's high :) disclaimer — this story is a work of fiction. both chan and reader are portrayed as consenting adults above the legal age of 21. always make sure your partner is someone you trust and have talked with beforehand while sober. remember to practice safe, consensual sex! notes — requested by @angelwoozi 🧸!! this concept is going to sit in my brain forever now agsdjkfahsd i hope you like it! also tagging @bitchlessdino because it would be a sin if i didn't. happy 420!

you hold the pre-rolled joint between your fingers, watching the way the thin smoke spirals off the end of it. chan holds out his hand as you exhale, and you pass it back to him for him to take his turn.

it's the secluded end of the park, where the trees are thicker and shadier and the grass is always a little bit damp, even during hot summer afternoons. a cool breeze blows today, and distantly you can hear birds chirping and the shuffling footfalls of joggers making their way around the park's running paths.

you lay back, settling down on top of the worn, quilted picnic blanket you keep in your car. for the first time in a while the weather's been nice enough to draw you outside, spring gradually melting into summer.

he holds the joint out towards you but you wave him off, so he sets it at the edge of his ashtray, the little yellow painted one you made him for his birthday in a ceramics class from a few semesters ago.

chan leans back too, propping himself up on one elbow as he reaches for his water bottle absently.

laying on your back, you can see each leaf on the tree, and when the wind blows you can see bits of blue sky peeking through the swaying branches. you hear chan call your name, but you ignore him, just wanting to watch the world go by for a moment. or maybe, you just pretended to hear him call your name. you seem to do that a lot recently, imagining him doing things until you aren't sure what's real or dreamed.

ever since new year's eve when you accidentally on-purpose slept with him and then maybe kept sleeping with him for months afterward, nothing's been the same. despite the fact that you definitely like him as more than just a friend you have sex with, you’ve never talked about it with him because he seems more than fine with keeping things simple; you wish he didn’t, but you don’t want to push him, so you just stick to having sex and sharing your weed.

it turns out him calling your name was, in fact, real, because a few seconds later you see his figure looming over you, blocking your view of the leaves and the sky.

your words come out lilted. "what is it, chan?"

"can i eat you out?"

you blink slowly a few times, thinking and processing his sentence and repeating it in your head so many times until you'd forgotten what he'd actually said.

"eating what? we had tacos earlier. i’ll make you a sandwich or something when we go back, i told you you should’ve brought more snacks to munch on."

“noooooo.” he whines and flops down onto the blanket on his side. "wanna eat you," he grumbles. his fingers find your arm and begin drawing shapes and patterns along your skin as he waits for your response.

it finally clicks in your mind what he's asking, and with much effort you roll your head over to look at him. "why?"

"because it's a nice day outside," he says, fingers trailing down to your wrist. "and i like it. oh my god, you're so hot. like… woah. why wouldn't i want to?"

your heart jumps, and you can't tell if it's completely from his words or mixed with how stoned you are, but you feel so happy. he sounds almost affectionate.

you shift your legs, your pants starting to grow uncomfortable the more you begin to think about chan between your thighs. it's a sight you're familiar with, but one you can never quite seem to get used to.

you throw your arm over your head, tugging gently at the cool grass beneath your fingertips to ground you to earth. "but there's sooo many people out, chan," you say, a little more giddy than you intend. "you’re too high. somebody'll see."

he closes his eyes slowly and furrows his brow, thinking deeply.

"put your bag here, then," he says finally, rolling over onto his stomach to grab your tote bag from the edge of the blanket and haul it over to your hip. it was a good idea in theory, but in reality it barely covers a tiny part of your body, and it would only be effective at blocking his head from onlookers at a very specific angle.

his fingers brush over your thigh on accident, and you sigh, legs parting just slightly. chan doesn't seem to notice, though; he's latched himself to your arm again, tracing his name across your skin over and over like a kindergartener learning to write their name for the first time.

"you really want to?" you ask, peering over at him through foggy eyes but grinning when you see him now focused on the tiny hairs on your arm.

"yes, please," he hums, and he starts kissing the inside of your elbow along your forearm. his lips are warm and so, so soft, it feels like rays of sunshine tickling your skin. until he opens his mouth and he starts gnawing on you, biting gently at your arm.

you swat at the back of his head, and then once more, laughing at how silly he is. silly feels like the right word. silly how cute he is and silly how maybe you're a little bit in love with him.

"oka-ay," you say finally, tugging on his hair to get him to stop biting you. he rests his head on your stomach and gazes up at you with big, soft eyes, and you know there's nothing going on in his head right now. honestly, there's not much going on in yours either, but there's enough happening up there to know better than to not let him have what he wants.

you pull the bag closer to yourself and lift your hips, shifting your pants down just enough to expose the top of your thighs.

"don't let anybody see—" you start to say, but chan is already diving in. he shimmies down your body, positioning himself between your legs so that it would look like he's merely resting on top of you if anyone passing by were to steal a quick glance.

in your present state of mind, neither of you are quite as sneaky as you probably think. you can only pray no one walking around the park is paying much attention to their surroundings, though your spot is far enough away from the main paths that someone would have to be intentionally looking in order to find you.

one thing you know for sure is that chan is a messy eater. in the privacy of his apartment (or occasionally, yours) he'll spend hours between your legs, making out with your pussy until you're so exhausted and overstimulated that just the thought of another orgasm makes you shudder. usually he doesn't go that far, because at the end of it all he still wants to have his cock inside of you, but that doesn't ever stop him from making a complete mess of you anyways.

but to your surprise, when he kisses you over your underwear before pulling them down your hips, his lips are slow and gentle, like wading through water. you feel his fingers kneading your waist, and you realize belatedly that you've been tensed up. you'd been preparing for a fast, rough onslaught of pleasure but clearly chan has other plans today: taking his sweet time with you. and with how fuzzy your head feels right now, going slow is more than fine by you.

he flicks at your clit, laying his tongue flat and smoothing it over every inch of you before flicking again, and subconsciously you angle your hips upward, chasing his mouth. his spit covers your cunt, and when he moves his head back you can feel the breeze cooling the heat between your legs, sending a shiver up and down your spine.

you hear a shrill scream from behind you, and you tilt your neck back to see where the noise came from. upside down, you can see two kids distantly running around in the grass, playing a game.

you yank chan up by the back of his collar and pull your pants up as far as they'll go, ignoring the insane wedgie you've just given yourself as you scramble to look like you haven’t been doing anything suspicious.

you stay on your back, craning your head around to look at your surroundings. once you’re certain nobody’s around, your eyes settle on chan, who’s staring blankly back at you. his face glistens in the sunlight from the amount of wetness all over his face that he doesn't even seem to be aware of.

"wipe your mouth," you try to scold him, but the whole situation is suddenly so funny you can't help the laugh that comes out instead.

chan sits up, a little disoriented at first but he pushes through the clouds in his mind and finally brings his hand up to his face, swiping at his mouth once with the back of his hand. he looks around and he spies the ashtray with the half-smoked joint still sitting in it, and with a lazy grin he leans over to grab it, fumbling with his lighter to reignite it.

he takes a long, slow hit, and you're surprised he's not more out of breath from just having his face shoved in your pussy for what seemed like eternity.

he holds it out to you with a little grunt, and you finally find the energy to prop yourself up onto your elbows to take it from him. you inhale then breathe out a fine cloud of smoke as you pass it back to him, and he sets it back down, giggling to himself.

you smile, his laughter contagious with your already content mood. "what're you laughing at?"

he rolls his head around in a circle, staring off into the distance with a dopey grin on his face. "i… dunno," he answers finally, and he looks back at you, his eyes full of emotion you can't really understand fully.

"well, you almost got us caught, dummy," you tell him, an involuntary pout forming on your lips as you lay back down. "if you wanna have sex we should just go back to your apartment now."

"i don't want to," he whines, and you frown at him. he opens his mouth, stops and closes it again, then finally speaks, seemingly having gathered all his words together in the right order. "of course i always wanna have sex with you but right now i wanna make you cum first. like, right now, right now." he looks over at you again with those big, stupid, pretty eyes of his. "ple-ease?"

"but somebody might see again, channie. you can make me cum at home."

he shakes his head slowly. "but we still have to finish this, anyway," he protests, pointing at what's left of the joint.

you lose focus and stare off at the trees again, knowing he's right. you'll have to stay until it's out, then clean up your blanket and put away your stash, so it's not like you were gonna get home anytime soon then, right?

he turns towards you suddenly, his mouth half open like he's just thought of something crazy. he carefully transfers the joint to your hand, wrapping your fingers around the end of it. "how about i finger you, and you can hold this for me until you cum, and then we finish it and we go home and fuck. holding two birds with one stone."

you glance around, hoping nobody heard him loudly exclaim that he wants to finger you. you think about telling him to keep it down, or at least correct his attempt at a metaphor, but the words feel like too much effort and you're still weary from the almost-orgasm just a few minutes ago.

you stare at the object he had put in your hand for a second before you decide to take a drag, putting your other hand on chan's neck to pull him close so you can exhale the smoke into his lips.

clearly he wasn't expecting it, and he coughs a couple times, but he recovers and immediately goes in to kiss you again. he kisses you for so long it feels like he's never going to pull away, and when you do finally let go for a second it seems like he isn't even breathing.

he just sighs dreamily, his eyes still closed. "i love kissing you," he says, and the way he says it makes it sound so important.

you elbow him in the chest lightly to get his attention, and he lets out a little "oof!" and opens his eyes.

"hurry up so we can go home. i wanna suck your dick," you say, clearly deciding to let him have his way as you push your pants down once more.

his hand slides over your body, and the way he smiles when his two fingers make contact with your pussy gives you goosebumps. his touch feels heavenly, and you have to put all your focus on holding the joint upright so you don’t accidentally drop it. but it’s so hard to stay focused when you can feel his fingers so deep inside you, moving in and out and curling and scissoring and it drives you crazy.

at least in this new position, it’s not as obvious what you’re doing. with shaky hands you take another hit, a bigger one this time, trying to finish it as fast as you can so you can go home and not have to worry about being seen.

chan pushes a third finger into you and you hold back a whimper, wrinkling your nose in pleasure.

he opens and closes his mouth at you, and there’s a few seconds before your brain catches up and you realize he wants you to help him smoke while his hands are occupied. you carefully hold the joint up to his mouth and he wraps his lips around it.

the sight of him laying on his side, his hand cupping your cunt as you act like his personal helper is hotter than you expect it to be, and you clench around his fingers, heat burning in your abdomen.

he sucks in a sharp breath and leans his head away from your hand to cough again. “are you— close?” he asks once he’s recovered, his tone almost pouty. “you’re squeezing my hand so hard and now my dick hurts because i imagined fucking you instead.”

you sigh, leaning your head back against the blanket and letting your eyes close again, your hand propped up in the air. “yeah… i reeally wanna fuck you.”

he pries the joint out of your hand to take a hit by himself, then puts it back in your grip and moves his other hand to massage your breast over your shirt. you whine, not expecting it, and buck your hips up.

“fuck, chan– faster, please,” you mumble, your head swimming.

he puts his thumb to your clit and presses down, his fingers moving more roughly inside of you to draw you closer and closer. after a while you open your eyes, and you find him staring at you with such a sweet, empty look on his face, it makes you want to kiss him forever.

you pull him down on top of you and push your lips against his. your teeth clack with his but you don’t care, because you feel too good everywhere else to even pay attention to one little bad thing.

just like the way chan eats you out, he’s messy when he kisses you, and even more so when he’s high. you can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you whine into him, the rest of the world falling away so that the only two people who exist in the entire world are you and him.

without warning you feel familiar waves wash over you and you practically go limp under him as your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs. he stills his fingers inside of you but continues to pet at your clit with his thumb as your walls spasm and contract around him.

when you start to regain some of what’s left of your senses you grab his hand to stop him, pulling him out of your aching pussy. he sighs and pushes his face into your chest, humming against your boobs.

caught up in the moment you hadn’t noticed when you’d dropped the joint, but luckily there was a god or some being out there in the universe that was on your side, because you’d dropped it directly onto the ashtray and not the blanket or the grass.

chan sits up and folds his legs cross-legged as he lights it one more time and hands it to you. there’s not much left of it by now, so it doesn’t take long for you both to finish it. your clothes stink of smoke and you’re a lot clumsier than usual, but you’re more content than you’ve been in a long time.

it’s not the first time you’ve had sex with him while high, but something feels different this time. maybe it was the way he clung to your arm walking back to his apartment, giggling with glee about how he couldn’t wait to have you all to himself. but it was probably more the fact that he told you he loved you right after you came and then proceeded to beg you to let him kiss you again.

of course you let him, your heart and your head soaring as you laid in the grass, casually making out for at least a quarter of an hour. you were in no rush to be anywhere, especially not when you had everything you wanted right here. and it seemed like he had everything he wanted, too: when you finally started to pack up your things to leave, he’d panickedly asked if you would stay with him.

“of course i’m staying,” you laughed, pushing him off of the blanket so you could fold it and put it away. “aren’t we going back to your place?”

“yeah, we are,” he said shyly, plucking a dandelion from the grass. “i meant like… all the time. i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

you looked at him, suddenly scared and a little confused at the sudden change from how excited he’d just been. “…you don’t want us anymore?”

he shook his head. “no, i want you! serious, like boyfriend and girlfriend! i want us to be us.” you don’t immediately respond, and he frowned.“you don’t want to?”

your eyes softened. “i do want to,” you smiled, crawling over to him to cup his cheeks in your hands. “i want to, very much.”

it would be a while before you finally made it back to chan’s apartment, but it was worth the wait. everything was worth the wait.

next year, when you sat in the same spot at the same park to spend your anniversary together, you joked that he had waited until april 20th to make it official because he’d wanted your anniversary to be on a funny date. but really you didn’t mind, because it just gave you more reasons to celebrate.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!

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[arisingonmorningsinnocent]

Years later, I still think “Poetry Week” was one of the cleverest things the WTNV writing team ever did. Like they took an episode concept that was literally just “Night Vale citizens write poetry and Cecil reads it on the radio! Cute, right? :)” and made it about people living in a dystopian surveillance state using one of their rare opportunities for self-expression to express the fear and paranoia and low grade trauma that shape their daily lives through absolutely horrifying poems. 

Poems about censorship, about anger against the state, about being forcibly silenced (“The town criers have cross-stitched their mouths shut and stapled their eyes open.”), about being watched, being harmed, being turned against the people you love but are unable to fully trust. And all interspersed with Cecil’s cheery, meaningless compliments on writing that he clearly isn’t thinking about (or at least is pretending not to understand the subtext of, which is my personal headcanon). 

Honestly I kind of want to do a full textual analysis of Katherine Ciel’s poem (under the cut) alone, because it’s a beautiful piece of writing where it’s so clear how hard the fictional poet is trying to veiledly describe what it’s like to live with Night Vale-typical level of fear and tension and random, unpredictable moments of surreal violence. The way people become numb to the horror (“Many find it difficult to breathe/without the atmosphere,/but we knew how;/we just stopped breathing”) but also the way that same numbness cuts them off from other people and makes intimacy with others into a terrifying, monstrous thing. And Cecil reads this as a traffic report. I am trying SO hard not to write a whole essay about this. 

But my favorite thing about “Poetry Week” is that it’s no more disturbing than any other Night Vale episode. Same humor, same beautiful prose, like it’s not on a different level than the rest of the show and I can and often do listen to it as just one more soothing, funny WTNV episode. Which is fun because it’s a meta-parallel to how in-universe Poetry Week is a fun community event to bring the town together, but also a rare and precious opportunity for tacit protest against an oppressive regime.

And I just… this podcast is so good, you know? Man. It’s so good. I want to eat it.

On Sunday, a lambent crevice

opened up in the street outside my house.

By Tuesday, birds were flying into it.

“I probably won’t miss you,” my mother said.

“I’m only interested in the end of the world,” I replied.

Many find it difficult to breathe

without the atmosphere,

but we knew how;

we just stopped breathing.

We’re at the Moonlite All-Nite Diner,

and they’re serving up fruit

from the plants growing out of the waitress.

The closed sign whispers, “Please, don’t touch me.”

We watch bodies fall to the ground outside

like deep sea creatures surfacing.

You turn to me and ask,

“Do you ever think about suicide?”

I look away from you and close my eyes,

eat the raspberries to confuse the blood in my mouth.

Now you’re in the only car in the parking lot at midnight

and you’re watching me throw stones at the moon

which hangs low in the sky

so that he can look into your house.

Your sister tried to touch him

from her window once,

and he flinched.

Now he and the oceans watch her with a quiet concern.

The lilac sky is trying to rest her head on his shoulder,

all trees gradually growing through her.

A hummingbird whispers to you,

“Be careful. Under her dress is her skin,”

and then builds his nest in the middle of the highway.

I look back to you,

and you close your eyes.

[little-cereal-draws]

@scuorge101 I had some headcanons for your alive!Polites au! (I hope that's ok)

Eurylochus lowkey became the captain after the cyclopes incident bc Odysseus was spending 24/7 next to Polites' bed

Odysseus let him use his captain bed (which was slightly better than the others) and either slept on the floor or on a stool next to him

nobody blamed Odysseus for not being there tho, they all knew it was serious

it still takes them several years to get home but not as long as it does in canon. in that time tho, Polites recovers somewhat

he likes to sit on deck and feel the wind on his face. this is also where he talks with the crew and tries to lift their spirits

Odysseus cries bc he's being eaten alive by guilt but somehow Polites is still optimistic even after all he's been through

Polites cries a lot back in his room tho (sometimes in front of Odysseus, sometimes keeping it a secret from him)

he makes more progress back in Ithaca where they have access to actual doctors. He sort of learns to walk again but it's never like it was before. He can shuffle from one room to the next, either holding onto Odysseus' elbow or the wall for support, but then immediately has to sit down

it takes a lot out of him to move from his bedroom to the dining hall, the living room to the garden, etc. Anywhere farther than one room is all his exercise for the day

his speech is messed up too. By the time they get back to Ithaca, he can speak again but his words are slurred which can make it hard to understand him sometimes. He'll also mix up words, make up words he thinks are real, or say words in random unintelligible orders. A modern doctor would call it "word salad"

This doesn't happen all the time tho, and he actually loves to talk to people. Odysseus, Eurylochus, and Telemachus are his favorites. He doesn't like talking about himself much -I don't think he ever would- but he loves asking them about their days

(let's pretend the ancient Greeks had wheelchairs) Telemachus loves to push him around and they get really close that way. Telemachus will push him out to the garden and they can easily spend all day there talking, bird watching, or napping. If Polites isn't in his room, you can find him wherever Telemachus is

Polites loves to go in the garden bc he was cooped up in his tiny suffocating room on the ship for nearly a year before he was well enough to make the journey upstairs. He can't bear to be trapped in his room anymore

Odysseus helps him take all his medicine (mostly painkilling herbs), redo his bandages, walk places, eat when his hands are too weak, and, in the beginning on the ship, go to the bathroom and bathe

Odysseus checks up on him every night before bed too. He'll take more painkiller and have Odysseus help him lay down. By the time it's night tho, he's usually not feeling well at all and is either mostly or all the way nonverbal

a bit of fanfiction to end: At dinner, Polites always sits next to Odysseus. Polies' hand suddenly falls to the table and he drops the food. Odysseus looks over. "Are you ok? Do you want help eating?" his friend asks. Polites grimaces down at his food. His skull is pounding like Athena is being born again and his hand won't close around the bread he wants. "Yes," he manages to get out. Odysseus holds the food up while he nibbles on it. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut. Hurts, hurts, it all hurts. His body is on fire. "Do you want to lay down?" he hears Odysseus gently ask. He nods; he can't think of the words to respond. "Ok," Odysseus says, quickly nodding to Penelope. "I'll be right back." She hums in acknowledgment and Polites feels Odysseus stand up and get ready to help him up.

[stardusthuntress]

Shark Week

TBB x afab!reader (no clone-cest) 

Word count: ~1.1k (short but sweet this time)

Summary: periods suck, but the bad batch is here to help! No smut this time, just comfort from the bestest of bad boys!

A/N: So, I'm on my period (ow), and I wish the batch was here to help... so let's pretend they are! Periods are a roller coaster, so for those who have to deal with one and need a hug from the best bad boys when it gets bad, this is for you! I wrote this as though all the men sorta have a crush on the reader, but it’s not too suggestive, so interpret it however you want! 

also, I know I'm the worst at keeping to a predictable writing schedule which makes it hard for people to keep up with my fics when they are posted. And I do remember that I promised more fun with the Right Attire series before anything else - turns out those ones are harder to write than I expected! I promise those are in the works! For now, have a sweet little period comfort fic instead!

Mando’a: 

Mesh’la = Beautiful 

dividers by @/djarrex

“What’s wrong with you?” Wrecker asks as they return from a market trip and find you curled into a ball around a heating pad, head tucked into your knees, groaning on the couch with a container of pain meds, an empty ice cream container, and an assortment of tissues and tissue boxes scattered across the nearest counter. 

All the gents pause for a moment. 

“Sabotaged by my baby box…” your voice mumbles from around the pillow you’re currently squashing between your lap and heating pad, unwilling to uncurl to do so. 

“Ah, I see.” Says Tech, redirecting his steps from the workbench in the main room to the outdoor one, knowing you like quiet when the pain grips your internal organs like this. 

Echo heads straight to the kitchen and starts filling a water bottle. 

Hunter sits down next to you and leans you against his side, rubbing your back. 

“What?” Asks Wrecker, genuinely confused. 

Crosshair chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and shifts his toothpick to answer. “She’s on her period, Wrecker.” He states it blatantly, much to your dismay. Not that you didn’t just say the same thing in different words, but somehow it’s the delivery that just grates on your nerves. But before you can spiral down that rabbit hole, Wrecker’s voice drags you from your emotional reverie. 

“Ooooooohhhhh…. Uh…. Want me to make you a nest?” Wrecker tries. 

Echo emerges from the bedrooms, slightly cool water bottle in hand, bowl of fruit under his arm, and a blanket draped over his shoulder, and Tech hot on his heels. “She’s not a bird, Wrecker.” 

“Mmmmm, yes please Wreck,” you mumble again, this time from Hunter’s shoulder. 

Echo chuckles fondly, “Maybe you are our little bird today.” 

“Actually,” Tech’s finger is in the air as he spouts facts, “many mammals also have nesting tendencies. Sometimes it is a child rearing tactic. In many cases it is lumped in with a group of behaviors or time of year, for example hibernation. There is also—“ 

Chuckling fondly at Tech’s incessant fountain of knowledge, you stretch a hand towards your water bottle on the counter, only to have Tech snatch it away as he stops chatting at you. 

“Hey!” You protest, hand going limp on the edge of the table in frustration with a moan of disdain. 

“That one’s empty, here,” Echo gently offers, sliding the one he’d just filled into your hand and sitting on your other side. 

He and Hunter help you sit up without uncurling to drink the water. 

Tech reappears, having deposited the empty water bottle into the kitchen. He stands in front of you with your favorite fuzzy socks, headband, and salty snacks, and a napkin so you can eat where you are. 

You give a tired smile, relaxing a bit as they all take the time to help you through the pain. “Thanks guys.” 

“We’re not done just yet,” Hunter says, placing a kiss on your temple as he stands up. 

You groan at the loss of one of your favorite heaters. 

“He will be right back,” Echo whispers into your other ear, pulling you closer. 

You hum in answer again as you relax into him. 

“Back already,” Hunter plops down beside you again. 

You grumble in protest as your comfy seat bounces in response. 

“Sorry,” he whispers against your shoulder, his hand sliding into yours. But instead of simply intertwining his fingers with yours you find yours getting wrapped around a crinkly package. 

You look down at it, confused, until you notice what it is… your favorite chocolate. 

“Hmmmm, you guys spoil me,” you mumble back. 

“Hmm, not enough,” he and Echo tell you, wrapping you in the blanket Echo brought and rubbing any part of you that they can reach. 

Tech reappears again, having used his brother’s attention on you to disappear yet again without anyone noticing… that is, except Crosshair, who walks beside him carrying an arm full of books. 

“We were unsure which one you are reading at the present time, or if there are several, but these were the books I kept a record of you mentioning most recently. Crosshair’s idea.” Tech finishes with a finger pointing to the sky, rather proudly. 

Behind them Wrecker appears, almost entirely hidden behind the piles of blankets and pillows he’s collected from your room and his. He pauses, and reshuffles so his mismatched eyes can reappear over the top of the multitude of comforts he carries. 

“Where do you wanna be?” He booms excitedly. He always enjoys building nests. 

“Where she is, Wrecker. Don’t make her move.” Crosshair tells him, with his usual grumpiness. 

Wrecker ignores him, still looking at you with a smile in his eye. 

“Na, we need more space than that. We’re all burrowing in with you, Mesh’la,” Hunter instructs. “Move that and we’ll use the floor.” 

Wrecker uses one foot to move things out of the way until Echo, and Crosshair get up and help. 

Hunter stays put, keeping you upright and warm. 

“My Dear,” Tech purrs, “I need you to simply answer yes or no to these questions so that I may make sure we have all necessary items on hand before we settle in.” 

You nod, laughing feebly, “I think you already have everything, but ok.” 

He lets a small proud smirk grace his lips and launches into a list of symptoms and you diligently answer, knowing he just wants to make you feel better. 

20 minutes later and you’re fed and curled up in the middle of 5 caring men, talking softly as you doze off. Your head is in Hunter’s lap as he massages your scalp and shoulders. Echo has your middle where he’s keeping a constant pressure on the heating pad on your abdomen, his hand massaging where your kidneys are to relieve the tension of your body in overdrive. Tech is massaging your feet through the fuzzy socks. Wrecker and Crosshair are spread out in front of you, keeping you in the center of their circle as Crosshair pretends to focus on what’s going on outside the window. Secretly he’s been unwrapping chocolate to feed you whenever you start to seem uncomfortable again. Tucked beneath your arm as you doze, is the book Crosshair pulled from the pile for you at your request. It’s quickly joined by Lula as Wrecker winks at you as he animatedly tells a story from when he walked Omega to Shep’s house for a sleepover this morning. 

“Sleep,” Crosshair whispers to you around his toothpick, “We’re not going anywhere.” 

Tucked between your favorite men in the galaxy, you drift off to a peaceful, relatively pain free, nap. By the time you fall asleep, one hand is tangled in Crosshair’s loose grip, and one in Wrecker’s. 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @cw80831 @kenobidevil @bambambunny

[thomatri]

Kiss Boy

Synopsis- you have a fat crush on Atsumu only one problem he’s straight…or is he?

Paring- Atsumu Miya x mreader

———————————————————————

“So when you gonna ask Atsumu out?” Suna asks randomly as Osamu,him and I eat lunch. Atsumu sometimes eats with us but today he’s eating lunch with his other friends

“Uh never that dude like the most straightest person ever” I say rolling my eyes

“But you like him?” Osamu says

“Hey! I can’t help who I like” I say glaring

“Well I mean you can’t keep pretending you don’t like him” Suna says

“And why is that” I ask

“Cause it’s clearly making you depressed I’m sure you’d feel better if you just told him” Suna says shrugging and I sigh

—————————————————————-

“You should really join the volleyball team man” Atsumu says with a smile, him,Suna,Osamu and I are walking to the gym together for there practice and me to watch like we always do

“Nah I hate playing sports, but I’ll gladly watch y’all play” I say smiling at him

“Dang worth a shot Kita would love you on the team, and me of course” Atsumu says smirking at me and I roll my eyes avoiding eye contact so he doesn’t see my embarrassed face

“Chop chop love birds” Osamu says and I glare

“I’m coming dang” Atsumu says. Maybe I’m just delusional but he didn’t deny us being love birds

Suna notices my delusional and smirks

————————————————————-

Practice feels shorter today for some reason maybe it’s just the fact I’m watching them instead of playing but on our way to the subway station our being Osamu,Atsumu and Suna of course Suna decides to ask dumb ass questions to Atsumu of course

“Hey Atsumu are You Gay?” Suna asks and Atsumu looks hella confused. Osamu snickers and I glare

“What type of question is that?!” Atsumu asks rightfully confused

Suna shrugs

“Well no im not Gay maybe a little bi never really gave it much thought” he says shocking all of us

“Is this how I find out my brother a homosexual”

“What the hell. Did you want me to make a rainbow sign announcing it?!”

Osamu actually considers it but shrugs

“I’m surprised I thought you were straight or definitely homophobic” Suna says snickering glancing at me

“Nah Y/n gay” he says and I stop

“What”

“Your gay arent ya?” Atsumu asks confused like he said something wrong

“I mean yeah but how’d you know?” I ask continuing to walk with Atsumu as Suna and Osamu have walked ahead of us

“Well It’s kinda obvious and I heard you and Suna talking about some guy you like” he says and I’m shocked and embarrassed

“I’m actually kinda hurt you didn’t tell me” he says chuckling

“Well I definitely planned to” I say cursing myself for what I’m about to say

“Really? When?” He asks

“I can right now” I say trying to ignore everything telling me not to

“Oh ok” he says and we’re engulfed in silence as I contemplate how to word it for a second

“Uh well” I start

“Is it Suna?” He asks

“WHAT NO” I say looking at him shocked

“Oh carry on” he says laughing and I smile god I could listen to his laugh all day

“I like you Atsumu” I say and he stops walking

Shit

“REALLY?!” He says and now I’m shocked again by his reaction idk what I expected but him yelling really wasn’t it

“Seriously?” He asks

“Seriously” I say shrugging trying to seek non chalont but inside I’m dying screaming throwing up

“Why?” He asks and I stare

“Uh your hot,funny,a great person,hot” I say shrugging

“I noticed how smart wasn’t on that list” he says glaring and I snicker

“You have other great qualities” I say shrugging with a closed eyed smirk

I open my eyes in shock when I feel Atsumu lips on mine

He brings a hand of cup my face and I lean into the kiss

We kiss until we’re out of breath

“Holy shit” He says

“Your a pretty good kisser for someone who’s never had a first kiss” he says smirking and I roll my eyes

“Can’t believe you remember that” I say and he laughs

…

“Fuck we missed the subway” I say and we both start to panic

No Suna or Osamu in sight

All of a sudden I get a call from Suna

“hey pookie” Suna says

“Shut the hell up where are y’all” I ask annoyed

“Boo your no fun, we’re on the subway we thought y’all could use a moment so I’ll just pick y’all up, Osamu already old there parents there spending a night at my place” Suna says

“Thank god you have a car,but don’t pull this stupid shit again” I say trying to stay mad but still extremely thankful he did this

“Damn a little thank you would be nice, trust I won’t though spending gas money just so you two idiots can get together. This is a one time thing” Suna says and I hear Osamu laugh

“Thanks,seriously” I say smiling

“No problemo friendo”

“See ya” Osamu says as Suna hangs up

“Welp” I say

“We’re stuck in the middle of the night alone” I say shrugging and Atsumu is grinning

“What’s got you so happy?” I ask giving him a confused look and he shrugs with his smile still painting his face

“Nothing just happy your my boyfriend” he says and I’m stunned not gonna,ain’t expect him to say that but I smirk

“Oh? You never asked me out”

“Will you be my boyfriend Y/n L/n” he says seriously and I almost bust out laughing

“Yes of course Atsumu Miya” I say smiling at my new boyfriend

———————————————————————

Bonus

———————————————————————

After going to a park,calling my parents to let them know I’m spending a night at Suna which thankfully they ran with cause until he got to us we had no way home, and making out with Atsumu we finally got to Suna place where we both painted each others nails

Atsumu thought it made him look a little to feminine and Osamu just didn’t want to which we both didn’t complain about obviously

“I want all the juicy details” Osamu says finding a movie on Suna laptop

“Well I thought Y/n liked Suna, he confessed we kissed and I asked him out” Atsumu says and Osamu gives him a disgusted look

“That was the vaguest explanation ever I said details boy” Osamu says rolling his eyes and Atsumu glared and I groan knowing there about to argue

“Look Atsumu my nails” I say trying to distract him

“Ooo there pretty can you do mine” he says beaming and Suna snickers

“What happened to it’s too feminine” Suna says with a hand on his hip

“Damn your right hmm just do one hand I wanna match with Y/n” Atsumu asks and I laugh

“Alr loverboy” Suna says starting to paint the bleached haired boys nails

[cultofdixon]

At least there’s no bears

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • Usually Daryl can see where the traps lay…but then you got caught • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Blood Loss / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Daryl slowly sat up in his bed knowing he has the hunt today and that his partner will be joining him. Which meant he had to get ready and then drag their ass out of bed so they could get ready.

Once they both were ready, Y/N stretched their back out waiting for the archer who was currently informing the early bird Rick on their whereabouts for the morning.

“Hey, eat” Daryl startles them out of their thoughts as they tiredly take the protein bar handed to them and started to dig in while they walk to the gates.

It was a cold and nice morning for the two to go on foot for the entirety of the hunt. Even if Y/N does miss his bike to at least go a bit further out.

“You still waking up?”

“Meh.” They shrug adjusting the rifle on their back as they held onto the strap while looking around. “Why do we have to hunt early? Like. It’s what 5AM?”

“Have a watch to confirm that?” Daryl laughs a bit only to be hit with a pebble in the back of the head. As he quickly whips back, Y/N pretended like nothing happened only for him to playfully glare. “I’d be careful of any left behind traps. Don’t think there’s anything as serious as a bear trap but better to be aware”

“Why do people hunt bears? Some of them may be stupid, then others just want to steal your picnic baskets”

Daryl stopped once more only for Y/N to run right into him from not paying attention. He gave them a confused look.

“For someone who had a brother with only a few working brain cells. He didn’t watch cartoons? YOU didn’t watch cartoons?”

“Yogi bear”

“SEE YOU DID”

“Merle only watched cartoons or fights”

“Sounds very Merle coded” Y/N laughs a bit as they branched off a bit into a different direction to check out a bush with fruit on it.

The archer kept an eye on them for the most part, not like they would need the extra set of eyes since their first response in danger is to fight or find the closest hiding spot. They were also one of those adventure types from the old world and would almost always be outside so he knew that they knew about certain signs of danger and especially what’s poisonous or not.

“Those berries good?”

“Nah. But it could be good bait for small critters that can have it” Y/N plucked a handful as the two quickly turned to the sudden scurry that was too quick for a walker and Daryl went to follow.

When the tracks came up empty, Daryl was hit in the head again and turned to Y/N who had just caught up to him.

“What?”

“Did yea hit me with a berry?”

“No but thanks for the idea” Y/N laughs kneeling down to grab the acorn that fell, also grabbing the few acorn caps off the ground. “You ever wear these on your finger tips? As a kid?”

“And pretend your fingers were friends or some shit”

“That’s incredibly sad. If only I lived near the forest in Georgia then we would’ve been friends. Always find me in the trees”

“City kid?”

“Yeah but my sister always took me to the park to get outside and yknow, also not to hear bickering soon-to-be divorced parents” They laugh a bit as they took one of Daryl’s hands to put an acorn cap on one of his fingers before finding another bush in their peripheral to go investigate.

Daryl looks at the little acorn cap they put on his finger and thought it was cute of them, but before a smile could even grace his features. Fear shot right through him.

“son of a—-FUCK!” Y/N yells as their voice echoed through the forest followed by the thud of their body hitting the ground. They looked down to find the bear trap latched onto their left ankle. “Fuck fuck FUCK” they were too afraid to move and once Daryl finally came over.

The color in his face drained as he knelt down to assess what happened.

“You should’ve watched where you were going”

“Seriously?!” Y/N snaps at him for stating an annoying yet obvious response. Only for the sudden jerk to worsen the pain as they couldn’t look at their blood drain from their body or they might pass out. “Oh god”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ��-We gotta get this shit off yea without taking the foot”

“Oh”

“Oh?!” Daryl stops messing with it to lock eyes with Y/N a moment as neither exchanged a word. “What the fuck is happening right now?! Did I hurt yea further or—-“

“SOMEONE HAS TO BE THE CALM ONE”

“DEFINITELY DOESNT GOTTE BE YOU”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE THE WALKERS HEAR YOUR YELLING” Y/N snaps only for Daryl to cover their mouth waiting for the snap of twigs he heard to just be a critter and not what they had said a few seconds ago.

“I wish yea didn’t adapt your feelings to the situation when you’re the goddamn one that’s injured.”

“Freaking out to my full potential will only make me sob and the pain a whole lot worse” Y/N squeezed their eyes shut to fight back the tears as it was starting to get way worse. They carefully took their belt off even if it meant shifting, a wince, and Daryl flinching to the pain response. “Tourniquet”

“Smart. Very smart” Daryl takes the belt from them and got started applying such above their ankle before assessing what he should do next.

A lot of blood.

A lot of fucking blood.

It’s a 2hr window before they might lose it even with a tourniquet.

Y/N watches as Daryl thinks too loud in front of them. They were worrying about him even if they are the one bleeding less now. They clear their throat to get his attention as his expression instantly went to stress and worry thinking something worse was happening.

“Take the bear trap off, wrap the wound in your bandana, then carry me home so Denise can patch me up” their voice was shaky after silently crying a bit to themselves. Daryl did exactly what they said, a bit confused why they were so clear minded about it.

Next thing they knew, Daryl was carrying Y/N on his back all the way back to Alexandria.

“This shouldn’t have happened…”

“D, come on…”

“I knew this area had fuckin’ traps last time I was out. Should’ve taken them out before dragging you out here”

“You didn’t drag me out here” Y/N frowns. “And you would’ve gotten yourself caught in a bear trap. It just happens by accident”

“You shouldn’t have come…”

“I wanted to. You asked and I said yes…even if you didn’t I would’ve come out to find you if you’re didn’t leave a note like you usually do” They rest their head on his shoulder trying not to let the blood loss beat them with the exhaustion. “Shits unpredictable sometimes…”

“You’re too optimistic sometimes” Daryl sighs, listening to them hum in agreement as he felt their body shift against him. Making his anxiety pick up the pace to get to Alexandria.

It’s been a few hours and Y/N woke up exhausted but at least patched up and in the infirmary. They noticed they were alone but at least there was crutches to help them get around.

As they managed to get up and out of the building, Daryl was starting to head back to them carrying something when he noticed them on the crutches.

“You’re supposed to stay in the fuckin’ bed”

“Don’t tell me what to do” Y/N scoffs. “I wanna be in my bed. With you. Thank you very much” they were about to move past him when Daryl took their crutches leaving them still in a flamingo pose. “Daryl. Don’t be a dick”

“Let me set shit down inside and I’m carrying yea to bed. And ain’t taking no for an answer”

“Then can you hurry up? You or Denise or whoever took my jacket and I’m cold” Y/N frowns waiting for Daryl, watching him go inside the house leaving them out there longer than they had wanted.

But Daryl came back out in a little bit of a sprint with one of his sweaters, helping them get it on before picking them up bridal style and going toward the house.

“You gonna be nurse back to health?”

“Ain’t leavin’ yea that’s for sure”

“You’re sweet”

“You’d fall down the stairs if I left yea alone”

“I think I’m gonna take back calling you sweet” Y/N laughs resting their head on his shoulder as he pushes every door he had to open with his foot. Eventually getting to their room and setting them on the bed.

The archer carefully propped up their ankle using his pillow and covered them with his blanket. Y/N got comfortable watching Daryl move around the room moving a few things but then he left to grab something.

When he came back a moment later, Y/N had fallen asleep given their body was still wiped out and the drugs Denise gave them still floated around. Daryl set the glass of water on their nightstand along with fresh bandages for when they wake up so he could put new ones on. In the mean time, he moved to his side of the bed taking his boots off before bringing his whole self beside them.

Y/N opened their eyes a sec to see him beside them as they carefully moved their self close enough to bring their head on his shoulder. Daryl rests his head on top of theirs taking the time to finally relax.

“At least there wasn’t any bears”

“Shut up and go to sleep”

[crazerk]

This demo has lived rent free in my brain for the last 24 hours bestie !!! All the origins are so fun! I’m particularly drawn to the noble tho 👀And as for a basic question: can we please get some fun facts about the ROs ? TY <333

This comment made my day! I’m glad these characters aren’t tormenting only me now lol.

Fun facts under the cut!

Kaz

As a child he pretended to be afraid of the dark for years because his mother would comfort him with stories from her homeland. She still thinks he is and asks the servants to keep some candles burning at night, even though they annoy him. He considers this karma for the lies.

He has a massive sweet tooth. He might project the image of a stoic, serious emperor but that man loves sweets. He doesn’t indulge too often in public though. He’d rather sneak into the kitchens at night and once frightened a poor cook half to death when he stumbled upon his sovereign eating honey straight from a jar at like 2 am.

He’s a remarkable artist. He draws a lot. Really into architecture too.

He fidgets with his signet ring when he’s nervous. He does this unconsciously most of the time, and those who aren’t familiar with his mannerisms might assume he’s just deep in thought. But really his mind is spamming the panic button.

I’m not sure if this is a “fun” fact but he enjoys bloodsport. His father’s reign was criticized for this and his friendship with Fang has given him a different perspective on how slaves in the fighting pits are treated so he’s distanced himself from it. But it bothers him a bit, how much like his father he can be.

Fang

He has talent for juggling and often uses it to entertain children in the marketplace.

He’s quite the pirate fanboy. He wants to be a pirate so bad and dreams of owning a ship and just sailing around the world someday. Fang once won a drinking contest against a notorious pirate captain, earning him a place on the crew if he ever felt inclined. Fang thinks about that offer everyday.

He learned how to read and write from his master and has a hidden stash of romantic poetry that he's written over the years, inspired by his various crushes and lovers. He's never shared these poems with anyone, as he fears they might ruin his roguish reputation.

He doesn’t have a home. He has enough gold stockpiled from his fighting days to live comfortably and Khazunef has made it clear that he’s welcome at the palace but he prefers to just… wander around. He claims it’s because he likes not knowing where he’ll end up, and that every day is a new adventure. But really it’s because when he thinks of home he remembers a time long ago when he was a boy, before the raiders, before the slavery and before the fighting, when his mother would cradle him by a warm hearth and sing a lullaby. He can’t recreate that feeling. He’s terrified even trying to.

Persa

She loves to play pranks. Her favorite involves sneaking into rooms while their occupants are away and rearranging their furniture just slightly, enough to make them question their own sanity when they return.

She has a photographic memory, which comes in handy for her favorite pastime: gambling. Do not under any circumstances challenge her to any games of chance, as she can easily remember cards played or patterns in a game. Several guards have lost months wages in this manner.

Shes the definition of having a green thumb. She has a fondness for winter roses, a flower that grows in the snowy peaks of her native land. She managed to cultivate them in the desert. Persa tends a small garden of these roses in the palace as a reminder of home. She’s skilled herbalist and often disappears into the palace gardens for hours at a time, gathering plants and herbs for her potions and remedies.

Persa is a gifted singer, but she only sings when she thinks no one is listening. Her voice is hauntingly beautiful, and it's said that even the birds fall silent to listen it. Something she finds herself humming tunes of the songs from her home, but she can never quite remember the words.

Ignasia

She absolutely detests spicy foods. Yes she knows, it’s ironic that a fire priestess can’t stand the heat. You can only make that joke once. Do it again and she might curse you.

Despite her serious demeanor, Ignasia has a wicked sense of humor. She loves to tell jokes with a straight face, leaving others unsure whether to laugh or not.

She has a talent for mimicry and can do impressions of almost anyone including fellow priestess, imperial courtiers and advisors. She won’t confirm or deny if she’s used this skill for dubious purposes.

She pretends leaving her noble family behind to become a priestess was a great sacrifice. In truth it was her greatest pleasure.

Sometimes, she tells people that she sees things in the flames that aren’t there. She tells herself it’s for the greater good. To give hope to the man who asked if his daughter’s sickness was fatal, to prevent a young lad who asked if the gods will protect him if he sought out his sister’s murderer from getting killed or simply because the truth was too heavy. She tells herself it’s for the best, and the flames wouldn’t mind. Right?