theweedisasterxoxo - Tumblr blog

[theweedisasterxoxo]

if anyone has any requests please don’t hesitate to put them through my ‘ask’ button! it’s empty most (all) of the time so i’d love to be put to work!! 🫶🏼

[theweedisasterxoxo]

!!!!!!!!

it ok to not be ready

[theweedisasterxoxo]

I’m in the process of writing Chapter Three of ‘Open My Eyes’ and, through flashbacks, references to canon-typical violence, direct references to artefacts from Part Two (of the game), and filler in between, it is a lot darker than the previous two chapters. I’ll be posting a chapter summary once the actual chapter has been published for those who want to be caught up on the story but might not want to read depictions of what has been written throughout the actual fic.

While there are no depictions of dub-con, non-con, or rape, there are other topics being discussed such as: bodily mutilation, David’s section, emetophobia, forced cannibalisation, forced consumption of vomit, graphic descriptions of torture, and suicide.

[theweedisasterxoxo]

Hi, hon! I saw your recent post you just made, and just wanted to say a few things!

First off, I’m so sorry to hear you’re going through a rough time right now. I can’t say I understand specifically what you’re going through, but I do know what it’s like to be in those rough episodes, and I will say it’s not great. I really hope you’re taking the time to take care of yourself. You are your number one priority🩶

Second, low engagement truly can be very disappointing, and I’m sorry it’s not hitting where you’d like it to be at. Tumblr is honestly so weird. A while back, I don’t know what or why, but they started limiting how many blogs you could tag? This started when I was first writing, and oh my goodness. My engagement took a while to build. Idk if the tag limit is true still, but I’ve still been experiencing that tagging doesn’t even send notifications anymore. There’s so many posts that I end up scrolling past only to find out that I was tagged all along (oh gosh especially in tag games, I’m either always so late to those or I don’t even see them😭)! I don’t understand!! But if my time on tumblr has taught me anything, and I wish I was told this when I first started out, I feel like (for my personal experience) tag lists might be the least helpful way to truly boosting any posts out there for a much wider audience to see. What’s worked for me though is focusing what actual hashtags at the very bottom of the post that I use, and also posting at a consistent time (I always post around 12pm my local time🤣 - I literally don’t know why I chose that time, but the consistency has worked wonders for me!!!) 🙂‍↕️

Also - and this is just me personally - but I limit my time on this app crazily now. I’ve also turned off mobile notifications. This isn’t because of anyone or anything in regards to tumblr, but it is simply for the sake of my own mental health🩶 I fully understand your anxieties about people being annoyed and whatnot, but it is truly nothing personal with me if I tend to overlook a post🩶 and I hope that can ease your mind a little bit because I know just how persistent those voices in our head can be.

Lastly, just wanted to mention that you are so so so interactive and one of the sweetest that this community has (and needs a bit more of if we’re being honest). Your comments and the rocks 🪨 you give me truly brighten up my day.🫶 I think I can happily speak for several when I say we appreciate you more than you know.🩶

Some rocks for u, fren🩶🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨

Hi, my love! I am SO sorry for how long it has taken to reply to this ask. My notifications on Tumblr for likes and asks have been so dodgy; I wasn’t ignoring you, pinky promise!

Firstly, rough episodes are awful and I’m sorry that someone as lovely as you has to go through them too. It can be disheartening to experience especially if you’re alone or don’t have a good support system in place. That being said, you are so sweet and I’m eternally grateful to be on the receiving end of it.

Secondly, I didn’t realise that tagging for other people wasn’t working either! I also still have some Tag Games to post, holy moly. But in terms of the lack of engagement, while I do feel a little disheartened sometimes that people don’t really interact with my stuff, I realise that it’s more to do with me knowing that I don’t have a super wide reach over this platform. I think that a lot of it is because I don’t write graphic smut, and I’ve definitely noticed that there are different levels of interaction between smut fics and more ‘tame’ fics, whether they’re angst or fluff. I will most likely never branch into writing that style because I read most of my works to my mum and I am absolutely not reading Joel getting diddly with the reader to my sweet, Christian mother. Though, to reference another point you made, I will definitely keep it in my mind to expand my hashtags and make a more strict posting time!

Third, I absolutely get the reason for limiting your time on this app and the notifications on it due to how overwhelming it can be to be on Tumblr, especially with the level of interaction you get! I’m barely on this app at this point — partly due to a lack of motivation to post anything, partly because of how negative and triggering the community on here has been recently — so I promise I don’t take it as a personal offence if you don’t interact!

Lastly, but not really because I still have other stuff to say, I try hard to show people the appreciation and love on the things they post that they deserve! After being on Fanfiction sites for almost nine years now, starting on Fanfic.net and then moving over to Quotev, Wattpad, AO3, and now on Tumblr, I’ve always strived to leave a positive comment on what I’ve read and interacted with because I’m a firm believer that if you like something you should leave a little positive comment behind to tell the writer that you like it! I know I get giddy when the few people who read what I post leave a comment or reblog so I enjoy to spread that same joy to other people!!

I appreciate your loveliness way more than I can hope to explain, L, and I’m grateful for the reminder that other people appreciate me because it’s felt like the world has been sitting on my face with no signs of standing up any time soon. Now, I’m not religious but to be known and spoken to by you fills me with such light that it’s like receiving a revelation by the most loving deity. You have a gorgeous soul, my love.

Here are some rocks for you too!! 🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨

[theweedisasterxoxo]

i’m not going to be doing a tag list anymore after this post unless it’s a tag game, mostly because i don’t want to be tagging people constantly and then living with the “they’re gonna hate me for tagging them in this post/fic update” anxiety. another reason is that it’s getting to the point where i know that people aren’t really reading/interacting with what i post anymore. i think i just got lucky when i posted ‘What He Wants To Be’ and ‘Beneath Waves of Sorrow’.

my point is: if you see it, you see it, and if you don’t, you don’t. i’m going through a massive rough patch at the moment and i feel like i’m constantly setting myself up for disappointment in everything i do (except my tattoo appointments, i always love those).

i’m really worried that this comes off as petty or selfish, it isn’t my intention — i just struggle to word things ):

@strang3lov3 @guiltyasdave @endlessthxxghts

[theweedisasterxoxo]

actually sobbing reading the end of this. i’m not a mother, but i have young neighbours who are growing up so quickly and watching the time go by is another type of feeling ):

DON’T YOU EVER GROW UP

CHARACTERS: Joel Miller & Sarah Miller

RATING: none | WORD COUNT: 900

SUMMARY: Joel experiences many emotions as Sarah reaches the childhood milestone of getting her “big girl” bed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is me, projecting my own experience onto my favorite character because I’m a fic writer and that’s what I do. Divider by @/saradika-graphics and beta read by @murder-wife 💕

LINKS: support for palestine 🇵🇸

Joel wipes the sweat beading along his hairline with the back of his hand. He stares at the new bed frame, his mind not reconciling how much bigger than her convertible crib it is. It's just a twin, white wood that matches her dresser and her bookcase stuffed with children's books of all shapes and sizes, but it seeing it take up so much space feels jarring.

"Little help?" Tommy calls from the hallway. Joel shakes his head to clear his thoughts before joining his brother, who holds one end of a mattress teetering on the stairs. Together they bring it the rest of the way into Sarah's room, settling it on the frame.

"Thanks for the help," Joel says, patting Tommy's shoulder. "I owe ya one."

"Don't sweat it. I know the little miss was dyin' for her new big girl bed."

There it is, the phrase that makes Joel's heart clench in his chest. Sarah's barreling towards five years old, shedding some of the baby roundness in her cheeks and no longer saying certain words incorrectly, the way toddlers tend to do. She gets up every morning for preschool and eats her cereal all by herself and comes home in the afternoon to tell Joel about her day, legs kicking against the chair while she shows him her art because she's not quite tall enough to reach the floor. Joel looks around the room again, remembering the rocking chair in the corner that was the first piece of her childhood to retire, followed by the changing table with its pile of diapers. He thinks about how small she'd been, how light her tiny body was on his chest and for a moment he misses it so fiercely his eyes burn with the threat of tears.

"I need a beer," Tommy says, leaving the room. Joel takes the opportunity to press his fingers to his eyes, willing the wave of emotion to subside before joining his brother in the kitchen.

They share a couple beers before Tommy checks his watch, announcing that he should leave. On the way out the door, they pass the dismantled crib and Tommy taps it with his hand.

"You want me to drop that off for donation?" he asks. Joel looks at the chipped white wood, rubs a thumb over a dent in the veneer.

"No, that's alright. I'll take care of it," he replies. Tommy shrugs and Joel walks him out to his truck parked in the drive way, waving him off. When Tommy disappears from view, he heads next door to Connie's house.

He knocks on the front door and waits, the sound of tiny feet against wood growing louder, making his smile grow wider. The door opens, Sarah's sweet face peeking through the crack allowed by the chain lock.

"Password?" she asks, tone as serious as a four year old can muster. Joel crouches down to look her in the eye.

"Pizza for dinner," he says. She squeals in excitement and jumps away from the door just as Connie unlocks it. His daughter sits on the worn carpet runner to pull on her shoes while Joel asks how she behaved.

"She was an angel as always," Connie assures him. "Wait right here, we made cookies earlier and I want to send y'all home with some."

Connie disappears down the hall and Sarah darts after her. When they return, his daughter is balancing a foil wrapped plate in both hands, tongue peeking out of her mouth in concentration.

"Thanks again, Con. I'll be 'round Sunday to help Dan with the yard," Joel promises. Connie waves a hand at him.

"Don't you worry about it, you know it ain't a big deal to watch her. You got a good egg on your hands."

Back at home, Joel calls in an order for pizza that he shares with Sarah. He lets her take sips of his Coke to wash it down, her brown eyes wide with excitement at getting to drink soda with dinner. After a bath, pajamas, and a minor argument over brushing her teeth, Sarah enters her room for the first time that evening and sees her new bed.

"Wow!" she exclaims, clambering onto the mattress. She stands, jumping excitedly and Joel wraps an arm around her middle, placing her back on the ground.

"Remember how that song goes? The monkey falls off and bumps his head?" Joel asks, knocking his knuckles against the top of her head as she giggles. "No jumpin'. Come on, let's get your sheets on."

Together, though the bulk of the effort falls on Joel, they get her bed ready. Purple sheets with a cream colored quilt decorated with purple butterflies, a set that she spotted in the store that Joel went back to purchase on his own. She crawls between the sheets and settles her head on the pillow, ready for her stories. Joel reads three books of her choosing and shuts down her argument for a fourth, seeing that she can barely keep her eyes open any longer. He plugs in her pink butterfly nightlight and kisses her forehead.

"Goodnight, baby girl," he whispers.

"'M not a baby, I'm a big girl now," Sarah replies in her sleepy voice. Her eyes have already drifted shut before he can respond and he stands there for a moment, watching her with a lump in his throat.

Sarah may be getting bigger, but she'll always be his baby. Of that, Joel is certain.

Thank you for reading! For more of my writing visit:

All masterlists

Joel Miller masterlist

[theweedisasterxoxo]

TAG GAME: FANFICTION WRITER BINGO

thank you for tagging me @janaispunk !! i completely forgot to do this until i came across the notification again, sorry!!

—

tags: open to anyone who wants to join in!!

—

[theweedisasterxoxo]

hi everyone! it’s been a while since i shared anything with y’all but this is a lil teaser for a WIP i’ve got going on! i’m using the same concept from one of my REALLY old fics (DIAMONDS) that was published on Wattpad for a bit before i took it down because i lost my passion, so if anyone recognises anything i just wanted to put this out to say it’s not plagiarised — i just wanted to put that writing to something i could ACTUALLY be proud of. anyway, please let me know if this is something any of y’all would actually read 🫶🏼

Pairing: Ellie Williams + F!Reader

Teaser Warnings/Content: Mention of death and grief, light angst, too much talk about stars, probably a few inaccuracies, platonic pairing of Ellie and Reader, discussion of pain and bad deeds, no physical descriptions of reader, reader is able-bodied.

Teaser Word Count: 620

—

“This will pass,” you whisper, the words barely audible as they tumble from your lips. It’s cliché and stupid but you want to believe it. You want to believe that life will stop passing you by, that you’ll stop feeling guilty for simply existing - for living - and that the members of the community will stop looking at you with that God-awful sympathy.

When did their sympathy ever save anyone in need?

Perhaps, you realise, this reassurance isn't for Ellie.

She stays silent while you trail your hand over her features, tracing the ridges of her spine beneath her shirt and the dimples of her back, in a way that’s not incredibly dissimilar to how Joel used to touch you. All careful caresses and repetitive motions to ease your mind. Her mind now, you suppose.

But you're not Joel. You're nowhere near close to being a replacement for him. And then it hits you suddenly: you will never mirror his energy again, he will never make the mattress dip because he came to bed late after sitting at the table facing Ellie's garage to make sure she got home safe. He will never press apologetic kisses to the crook of your neck after waking you, offering the placative gesture with only you on his mind. He'll never put those stupid tea towels away, and you don't think you ever will.

The slight rustle of fabric shifting pulls you from your thoughts; Ellie's nodding, and it's clear that she's too worn out to fight you on how impersonal that statement was. You follow her gaze up to the never-ending canvas above you, watching as the bitter cyanide of day makes way for the sweeter colour of blackberries. It all seems so dull, so impolite for the world to keep spinning. And as Ellie looks up at the specks of silver, she wants so badly to be angry at them but the stars have done nothing to earn her wrath; they're simply mere beings in an assortment made from billions and yet, somehow, some have been regarded as more special than others. In a cynical fashion, so unusual to the way you think, you suppose the same applies to humans.

In theory they are no different to the stars apart from the fact that flesh, bone, and blood take the place of hydrogen and helium which produces burning light. They are all, essentially, the same. So why are some treated differently? In an ocean of flesh, the task of selecting someone good, someone who is bad, or someone special, without witnessing their deeds or displays of what makes them, them, seems impossible.

So, what makes people special? It couldn't be their looks, or their blood, or their good deeds, because who watched for those now? The world has managed to survive twenty-four years after a global outbreak - of course nobody truly focused on the bigger picture anymore. It's all about survival, making it to another day, or wishing they could take the place of the fallen because this is not a life to be lived proudly. Some would hardly call it a life at all… You wish that you could call it a life.

Casting your mind back, you remember the way that Ellie used to point out constellations and planets. You remember the joy she expressed that you listened. And, after all of her talk of space, you had been able to pick out a favourite star: Vindemiatrix, of the Virgo constellation. But now all of the stars hold the same dull light, as if their brightness had been snuffed out like a candle that burned too long. Like the last breath of a man the Universe decided had lived long enough.

—

tags: @janaispunk @strang3lov3

[theweedisasterxoxo]

see, jana, what if you just removed this great big wad of emotion you just shoved at me???!?

silliness aside, i adore the way you write. it shows just how much love you have for this and us readers FEEL IT in such a way that is so hard to describe. all hail jana 🙏🏼

sweet nothing

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: exactly 700 words hehe

summary: An interesting man keeps coming back to the museum you work at.

tags/warnings: able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, angst all over the place babeeeeeyyyyy

a/n: my entry for @iamasaddie's zodiac sign au writing challenge. i got javi and a museum au and this is what i came up with. thank you for always hosting these challenges aly <3

once again thank you @sizzlingcloudmentality for pushing me to even participate and for letting me ramble about this <3 you’re an amazing friend!

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)

You had noticed him the first time he came in. A little lost, a little out of place, not the kind of visitor that usually frequented your workplace in the middle of a weekday. 

It was a time that was usually reserved for the odd tourist couple, sometimes families, wandering the mostly empty halls, occasionally halting their steps to take a closer look at one of the historic paintings or sculptures. You preferred it to the weekend rush, liked to breathe in the cool air and relish in the quiet, peaceful atmosphere. 

He had wandered for a bit too, before seating himself on one of the benches in the middle of the room, eyes trained on the large painting on the wall in front of him. Your gaze had followed him, as was your job. Not a sign of your interest in this visitor in particular, you told yourself. 

When he came back two days later, it wasn’t a big deal. You hadn’t thought about him, hadn’t imagined running into him on the street, hadn’t wished to get a closer look at his face, weirdly intrigued, an almost magnetic pull to that man that you had seen for all of thirty minutes. 

Then he kept coming back. Always in the middle of the day, never sitting in the same spot, never staying longer than an hour.

Eventually, after weeks of your eyes trailing his movements, you decided to take the leap. 

“You must really like this type of art,” you say quietly, sitting down next to him, hoping that he’ll catch the joking undertone in your voice. 

His responding chuckle, a rich, deep sound from his throat, has a pleasant shiver running through you. 

“You want to know the truth?” 

You hum, not wanting to appear overly eager, but the entirety of your attention focused on him. 

“I just— It’s not really about the art. I just like coming here during my lunch break. My type of work is very… demanding.” He clears his throat, his voice stumbling over the word. “Coming here makes me feel further away from it. It’s—” He hesitates for a second, searching for the right expression.

“Quiet,” you finish for him. 

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. You’re mesmerized, so close to him now, finally able to take in his deep brown eyes, to let your gaze linger on his plush lips for just a second. Just long enough that you’ll be able to remember. 

He heaves a sigh, standing up. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Sorry.” One hand rubs over his face.

“No, don’t be. It was nice meeting you—?” 

“Javier,” he says. 

You provide your own name in return, smiling, trying to not think about how warm his hand is, how it’s dwarfing yours as he shakes it. 

You don’t always talk to him after that, not wanting to disturb the quiet and peacefulness that he’s seeking here. But you keep looking at him, keep thinking about him. Keep wishing for more, but are too shy to pursue it. 

He nods and smiles at you every time though, and it’s the highlight of your day every time. Sometimes he comes to you, chats with you. You start to notice the subtle differences in his demeanor, how when his shoulders seem particularly tense, he likes to keep to himself, how the smile he gives you then doesn’t reach his eyes. 

When two weeks pass by without a sign of him, you try your hardest not to worry. Maybe he had to travel somewhere for his work. Maybe he’s on vacation. Surely he’s fine. 

However, you promise yourself, that if— when he comes back, you’re gonna have to be braver. Ask for what you want. Ask to meet him, outside of these halls. 

He does come back. Looking tired, circles under his eyes and shoulders slumped like he’s carrying an enormous weight on them. Still, you ask him. Certain that if you don’t do it now, you never will.

His lips curl up in a weak smile, remorse painting his gaze. You know at this moment that you’re not gonna see him again.

“You don’t want that, sweetheart.”

thank you for reading! please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you enjoyed this :)

[theweedisasterxoxo]

duloxetine (cymbalta) girlie here (it’s the best, all the others i got tried on gave me the runs ✋🏼😔)

Spread this far and wide. I know u hoes are on antidepressants

[theweedisasterxoxo]

READ. THIS.

i’m a sucker for domestic!joel and this brought all the warm fuzzies in such a perfect way!! this is gorgeous!

things of comfort

summary: during a quiet night in, Joel discovers a little something in your bedroom that means a great deal to you

warnings: pure fluff! fleeting mention of the fact that joel is older than reader though their ages are unspecified, jackson!joel, mentions of the world ending, joel's loss/trauma is briefly referred to, i think that is all? this is just all silly fluff <3

masterlist

“All done?” you ask, smelling the aroma of the less than extravagant dinner of heated up leftovers as you return to the kitchen from the bathroom.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel replies, using oven mitts to grab the pan from the oven, then setting it back down on the stovetop before removing the gloves from his hands.

You stare shamelessly at his effortless beauty, admiring his adorable backside as he bends over to remove the warm meal from the oven; the broad, rounded muscles of his shoulders are hugged snugly by the flannel he’s wearing. The sight of him in your house doing such mundane things makes your heart flutter.

You could most definitely get used to this.

“Thank you,” you smile, making your way over to wrap your arms around him from the back, then leaning up to peck his cheek. “You look cute in my kitchen, by the way.”

“Are you... callin’ me a housewife?” he gapes, teasingly feigning offense as he turns around in your embrace, placing his strong hands around your waist.

“Maybe I am,” you giggle in return, loving the way his cheeks flush the slightest pink. “Sexiest housewife I’ve ever had.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he laughs softly, breaking away from you only to serve up the food onto two plates.

He hands over a plate to you, but not before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Then, the two of you make your way over to the couch in the living room where one of Joel’s favorite records is playing on the turntable. You settle in beside him, enjoying both the warm meal and Joel’s cozy embrace.

“Sorry about dinner,” you softly murmur to him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he takes another bite. "S'delicious."

And it makes you feel a little better, knowing that Joel obviously is not bothered by the fact you had hardly anything to make dinner with. But you still feel bad about not being able to give him a better meal, especially considering it’s Friday, and god knows he’s been just about working his ass off around Jackson this past week. He’s more than deserving of a nice meal and a weekend to relax.

“I wish I would have had time to make you a real dinner. I’m sorry it’s only leftovers,” you shrug feebly.

“Darlin’, I hope you know that I didn’t come over here tonight just for free food,” Joel squeezes you closer to him. “I quite like spendin’ time with you, food or not,” he gives you a smile, then a soft kiss on your lips.

"Well, if you stay the night, I promise to whip up something real nice for breakfast," you bribe with a giggle.

"Well, that's an offer I just can't refuse."

For the rest of the time being, the two of you enjoy your meal together in a mellow, comfortable conversation, enjoying each other's company, and the music that’s playing.

Eventually, Joel takes your empty plates to the kitchen sink for you, then returns promptly to cuddle up beside you. Though, unfortunately, the little throw blanket that he pulls down from atop the couch to snuggle up with you isn’t made for covering two adults.

“I’ll go grab some more blankets,” you giggle, seeing Joel’s feet stick out from the other side of the blanket.

“I’ll grab ‘em, Darlin',” he offers, jumping to his feet. “Just tell me where.”

“Um,” you smile, seeing how willing he is to help you out any chance he can. “Uh, they should be in the closet in the hall.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back,” he promises before leaving a kiss to your lips, then stepping out of the living room and down the hall.

However, after a few moments of awaiting in silence while wondering if he needs any help, your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the call of Joel, himself.

“Hey, Darlin’?” you hear his voice from the hall.

“Yes?” you reply, ready to get up.

“Uh… I can’t find ‘em,” he tells you, so you get up from your spot to go meet him.

“They should be right in there,” you hum, taking a peek into the small closet, but then remember that they’re not, and you feel a little silly. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Joel echoes with a smile, stepping away from the closet to let you close the door, then following you as you make your way further down the hall.

“I totally forgot. I just washed them all,” you chuckle, leading him to your bedroom, which, thankfully, you had time to clean before Joel’s arrival this afternoon. “They’re in here.”

He follows you into the room, then sees the basket of clean blankets you’d just taken off the clothesline earlier today, right at the foot of your bed. But something else catches your eye as he bends over to pick up the basket; it’s your childhood teddy bear sitting proudly at the pillows at the head of your bed. And while you’re not completely mortified by the idea of Joel seeing him, it definitely isn’t the ideal image you want to give off to your older, more distinguished lover.

For some reason, a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You know Joel would never judge you for anything, but you still don’t want to take the chance of him seeing it, so you ever so subtly grab the little animal off your bed and hide it behind your back.

But it seems your act only draws more attention to to the situation, and Joel's head quickly turns in your direction. 

“Woah woah woah,” Joel laughs, catching your swift movement. He then comes to stand right in front of you. “What’s that behind your back, Darlin’?”

“Nothing!” you reply with a nervous giggle. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he takes a step closer to you, making your heart jump. “C’mon, Honey,  please? What is it?” he all but begs, his gorgeous, hazel eyes boring into yours.

“It’s nothing!” you repeat your lie, subtly backing up in an attempt to toss your bear into the closet for him to hopefully be forgotten about until tomorrow morning, when your guest leaves.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Joel follows you with a laugh, then lunges toward you before you can even say anything else.

And in a matter of moments, his fingers have found your most ticklish spots: the ones he knows makes you absolutely weak. He uses it to his advantage, bending you backwards as he kisses your neck playfully, and reaching behind you as his hands fumble around at your waist, effectively making your grip around the plush toy weak enough for him to grab.

“Joel, please!” you laugh uncontrollably. And with a shriek, you feel the fabric of the teddy bear's arm slip through your fingers.

Joel has won. And when pulls the bear away from you, your heart sinks seeing the ragged old toy in the man's large, protective hands. You sigh in defeat.

“Aha! Gotcha,” Joel exclaims proudly, then glances down at the object in his hands, turning it around to look at all of its features with an exhale. “It’s… just a stuffed animal?”

“Mhm,” you frown timidly, gaze tilted to the ground.

“Oh,” he coos, stepping closer to you again as he recognizes that this little toy may mean something big to you. “Darlin’, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you assure him. “I was just… embarrassed for you to see,” you admit when he extends his arm to cup your cheek in his large hand, and lift your gaze to meet his.

“There is nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you while shaking his head.

“Really?” you give him a quizzical look.

“Really. This guy’s pretty cool,” Joel insists, gently petting the bear's head before carefully handing it back to you.

“It’s just my silly, childhood stuffed animal that I can’t seem to get rid of,” you roll your eyes, but stroke the teddy's tummy to bring you comfort all the same.

“S'not silly, Darlin. I love that. With the state of the world, I don’t blame you for wanting to keep somethin’ special from the past,” he says tenderly, and the way he clasps his right hand over the watch on his left wrist doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “I’m really glad that you have this guy, Darlin’,” Joel assures you sweetly, then reaching out to cup your face again, letting his thumb rub across your cheek. 

“So, you don’t think I’m weird for still sleeping with a stuffed animal?” you ask bashfully, turning your head in his hand to kiss his palm.

“Absolutely not,” he affirms, pulling you in and leaving a kiss to your forehead. “But, I hope you know that if Mr. Bear is ever ready to go into retirement... I’ll always be here for you, instead,” Joel tells you sweetly, sharing a smile and a wink with you. “I also enjoy the nighttime snuggles, y'know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smile, then remember what got the two of you into this situation. “Did you find a blanket you want?”

“Yes ma'am,” Joel says, pulling apart from you just enough so that he can grab a blanket from the basket, then turning back to smile at you. “Will our fuzzy friend be joining us?” he teasingly asks, seeing you haven't let up your grasp on the toy; but you also know that he’s trying to let you know that it’s okay if you do bring it.

“No,” you shake your head, going to set down the plush toy back where he belongs.

“No?” Joel asks, watching as you walk back over to him, wrapping your arms as tightly around him as you can, and pressing your face into his chest. You sigh happily in his embrace as he strokes the hair at the back of your head.

“I have all I need right here.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are super duper appreciated! this was old fic rewritten for joel and i feel like it fits him so perfectly 😭💘

Joel taglist below! fill out this form to be added/removed from taglists 🫶

@pedropascalmylove  @caplanbuckybarnes @auberosier @shesaidashamed​ @midgardianminx  @alwaysdjarin  @joeldjarin @crumbledcastle28 @mulletmcghee

[theweedisasterxoxo]

pls you are so sweet 🥺

💛&🦋 pretty please? 🫶🏻

🫶🏼🫶🏼

💛: i do! i’ve had seventeen piercings but unfortunately four rejected ): the ones i DO have are: nostrils, septum, bridge, vertical labret, helix, upper lobes, lobes, daith, and my nipples!

🦋: really, really cool /j — i have no clue tbh!

[theweedisasterxoxo]

for anybody who is struggling with the RAT KING! this was played on moderate+ OR, as @strang3lov3 so eloquently said, pussy mode. no gameplay mods except the accessibility feature that helps me see (i rely a lot on visuals because my hearing isn’t great) !! bonus content at the end of me getting frightened 🙈

RATKING TAKEDOWN:

-> five pipe bombs

-> two shots from a military hunting pistol

-> five shots using incendiary ammo (shotgun)

-> four pipe bombs

-> two shots using incendiary ammo (shotgun)

VIDEO DESCRIPTION: The video begins with a blue-coloured character, Abby, launching pipe bombs at a large enemy titled the ‘Rat King’ in a Hospital Waiting+Treatment area. After taking damage, one of the Rat King’s bodies (titled: The Rat King, Stalker) splits off and runs in a different direction. Abby continues to shoot the Rat King using incendiary shells. It dies and Abby pursues the stalker; it dies after she uses projectile weapons and shoots it.

tags: @endlessthxxghts @janaispunk

[theweedisasterxoxo]

i am SO into these atm 🙏🏼

questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

what made you start your blog?

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

what scares you the most and why?

any reacquiring dreams?

tell a story about your childhood

would you say you’re an emotional person?

what do you consider to be romance?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

what are you doing right now?

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

name 3 things that make you happy

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

favourite thing about the day?

favourite things about the night?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

say 3 things about someone you hate

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

fave season and why?

fave colour and why?

any nicknames?

do you collect anything?

what do you do when you’re sad?

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

are you messy or organised?

how many tabs do you have open right now?

any hobbies?

any pet peeves?

do you trust easily?

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

share a secret

fave song at the moment?

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

any bad habits?

(this post was stolen from @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak, since it couldn't be reblogged anymore)

[theweedisasterxoxo]

this looks fun!!

@strang3lov3 (literally about to post the ratking takedown 🙏🏼)

@endlessthxxghts (if i re-read dr. miller i will combust)

@janaispunk (the sweetest person ever award goes to?? YOU)

~ 💖 ASK GAME 💖 ~

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

🍫 Cheese or chocolate?

✨ Do you have any nicknames?

🎵 Last song you listened to?

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

😏 Are you on discord?

 💛 Do you have any piercings?

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

🎧 Headphones or earbuds?

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud?

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl?

🧸 Favorite place to nap?

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

👖 Jeans or sweatpants?

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order?

🧡 A color you can’t stand?

💎 What’s your most prized possession?

☕ Coffee or tea?

🦖 Favorite extinct animal?

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr?

🌴 Desert island item?

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

🔮 What’s your dream job?

💙 Relationship status?

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

🤎 What color is your hair?

💌 Do you talk to yourself?

💄 Do you wear makeup?

🌸 Best compliment you ever received?

💞 @ your favorite blog.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[theweedisasterxoxo]

for anybody who struggles with bloaters! this was on GROUNDED, no gameplay mods except the accessibility feature that helps me see (i rely a lot on visuals because my hearing isn’t great) !!

BLOATER TAKEDOWN:

-> two nail bombs

-> two molotov cocktails

-> two arrows; one to the abdomen, one to the head

VIDEO DESCRIPTION: The video begins with a blue-coloured character, Ellie, creating a projectile weapon before using a rifle to execute red-coloured ‘enemies’ in an old building. Heavy breathing and squealing can be heard from all characters. Eventually another blue-coloured character, David, is seen also fighting off the red-coloured characters. A large ‘enemy’, a Bloater, drops down from the lift/elevator shaft and four projectiles (two nail bombs, two molotov cocktails) are thrown at it before a missed rifle shot. Ellie corners herself and hits the Bloater in its midsection with an arrow and finally kills it with a headshot from another arrow. Ellie then collects some ammo from the corpse of an Infected on the floor and engages in hand-to-hand with an ‘enemy’ before she reloads the rifle and executes the final ‘enemy’.

tags: @janaispunk @strang3lov3

[theweedisasterxoxo]

i’m forgetting everything i’ve ever said about not reblogging 18+ works, i keep coming back to this eating it up like:

i need your version of this old man so bad, i just KNOW he could sort me out 🙏🏼 amen, or whatever and so on and so forth

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 

 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 

“I said yes,” you snap. 

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.” 

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 

-

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. After fetching your pad and underwear for you, Joel spent the night tinkering with the unpredictable VHS player so that it would play movies for you as you rested on the couch. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.” 

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 

-

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 

“The other one.” 

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him. 

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 

 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 

“No. It was burning me.” 

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 

“You can ask, you know.” 

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 

“Yes.” 

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 

“It’s not your business.”

 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 

“I don’t want to,” you whine. 

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 

“All of it.” 

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 

“Yeah. I see that.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.” 

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 

“Somewhere else.” 

“Right. Somewhere else.” 

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 

“Yes.” 

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 

-

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 

“Joel.” 

No answer. 

“JOELLLL,” you yell. 

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?” 

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?” 

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 

 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper. 

“Exactly.” 

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 

“Figures.”

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 

 You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 

And fucks you, and fucks you. 

And keeps fucking you. 

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 

“Super, yeah. Sore.” 

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.