#again sorry for my “just go straight to the sources” brain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has been providing a Korean-language service since 2013.

#again sorry for my “just go straight to the sources” brain

nicosraf · 9 months

Note

Maybe this is going to sound so stupid AKFKKRKEKFKFKF but where do you start learning about angels? Any particular sources that you recommend? I want to expand my knowledge on ✨👼🪽a n g e l l o r e ✨👼🪽 without accidentally falling from some tradcath's attempt at making church look cooler than it really is

Youre not stupid!! and I don't want to start coming off as The Authority on angels or anything - I'm just a guy. I think I'm really wary of others positioning themselves as an authority on angels (or theology generally) when they make videos/tiktoks explaining angel forms/hierarchies/etc. hence my frustrations

Unfortunate boring answer but: I think the best place to start is the Bible, reading the (few!) scenes where angels are present, examining how they act and how they speak. Read the scene where Jacob wrestles the angel, or the one where angels rush over to comfort Jesus after his days in the desert, or the angel that shakes Elijah awake then feeds him (then does it another time). (Book of Tobit, too, if you want to see Raphael!)

It's after this that I think you can start getting into the "sources." I would recommend reading the Book of Enoch - it's short, the summaries of it online are not good imo, and it's pretty simple. One translation I've been enjoying atm is George Schodde's ! Next, I would suggest moving onto the real "angelologists."

So, of course - Pseudo-Dionysius' The Celestial Hierarchy. Books like Thomas Heywood's Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells, and dictionaries about angels/demons. Here is where all the "fun" stuff is! I'm a boring loser so I usually read up on these, before or after, on JSTOR (or at least I did until I graduated) because you can learn a lot about the context in which they were written, and why you might not want to take what's in this umbrella of angelology/theology at face value. (Remember that these type of books/studies were often commissioned by powerful people.)

Around here or after this, you can move onto the writing about angels that isn't trying to convince you it's actual theology – so Milton's Paradise Lost or William Blake's work generally. I love William Blake, he's probably the only guy more in love with Lucifer than I am.

I wish I had a singular "Angels" book that I recommend but, as of now, not yet! I've hardly touched modern full-length books on angels, just articles (and those don't feel introductory enough to recommend, i think?)

But honestly? Just do whatever you want! No one is the authority on angels, just have fun with them fr <33

#angels lore is kind of tricky too because at once point you're just reading up on Jewish history and culture #regardless im sorry i dont have like youtube or tiktok recs or anything simple #in my defense im (was) a journalist so im used to just going to sources myself and not trusting anyone on the way LMAO #one day ill talk about how the Book of Enoch summaries online are horrible at explaining the actual contents of the book #again sorry for my “just go straight to the sources” brain #anyway #mine #ask #theology rant #oh i guess i have some JSTOR articles still saved but not a lot anymore because i am out of uni #one that stuck with me though is “Some Uses of Angel Iconography in English Literature” by Harry Morris ig

23 notes · View notes

hatchetno1 · 3 months

Text

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 6. in which you gain information from a certain apparition. word count: 1.7k note: WARNING. mentions of sa/rape (does not happen to you). no descriptions, but it is talked about. cw: jeff is a BITCH, and as mentioned above, mentions of rape.

He said he loves you, but you have no idea how credible that statement is.

For one, he’s mentally ill as fuck, and it could very well be true. You’re the first normal person he’s come into contact with for ages—two years, he’d said, seventeen when he was taken in, and nineteen now. But the common sense that kept you alive in society tells you it’s not possible because it’s barely even been a day since you met him.

But then again, you’re meant to be his therapist. And as his therapist, you know it’s not so implausible that he genuinely feels affection, romantic at that, towards you. In fact, it’s not so uncommon that people fall in love with their therapists, for the human mind is wired to form deeply emotional relationships. Toby’s brain could very well be overcompensating for the years in which he hadn’t had a proper, healthy conversation with another human being, one that’s not a cold-blooded murderer. That effect would only be amplified by his personality disorder, affecting his ability to form normal human relationships.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you,” chuckles a voice from behind you.

You do what any sensible person does, which is to scream and jump and stare at the source in horror.

The Link cosplayer from the previous day of chaos is sticking his head out of a CCTV camera you hadn’t even noticed before.

“Where did that camera even come from?” You ask yourself.

He whistles. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day with that amazing lack of perception. Also, rude much? You didn’t even greet me.”

“You didn’t either,” you blurt out.

“Good point. But know that if you keep that tone up I might just kill you.” He grins at you maliciously, and you feel yourself breaking out into a cold sweat.

“I’m sorry—”

“Oh my god, how dumb are you?” He rolls his eyes.

“…Huh?”

He sighs, and you wonder if he’s starting to get irritated at you. You don’t like people being irritated at you. You most certainly do not enjoy ghosts (?) being upset at you.

“You are off-limits in this household,” he explains. “The Operator will have our heads otherwise.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. “But…could you not listen in next time? I’m not sure how they’ll react to their…well, their deepest secrets being listened in on.”

He makes a tsk noise. “How else are you going to get information on them to treat them better, lest Slendy have your head?” There it is again, that nickname. But for now, you concede. “It’s true. I’m definitely not qualified, but I’m pretty sure even therapists get their information from multiple sources if they can,” you comment. The Link cosplayer—BEN, as EJ had told you yesterday—nods, and pulls himself out of the camera, hands pushing himself out of what you assume to be cyberspace, and floats down to the beanbag below the camera. Honestly, you’re still wondering how you hadn’t noticed that camera, and you internally berate yourself for it as you mirror him, slumping on your own beanbag.

��So,” he begins, bloody eyes gazing straight into your soul, “You must be wondering what the fuck just happened.” You note his use of profanity and nod slowly.

BEN sinks back into the beanbag—he can interact with physical objects, apparently—and rests his head on his palms placed behind his head like a makeshift pillow. “For starters, Toby is fucked,” he explains, and before you can give him a smartass no shit Sherlock answer, he continues. “I know you can’t see what’s on Slender’s table. He tends to fuck with your head like that. He only lets you see what he wants you to see. Nothing more. But anyways, basically he has a laptop or something on his desk. And obviously, you know I can manipulate electronics,” he wiggles his fingers, “And so that’s how I discovered there was something on his table, ‘cause even I can’t see it. But I know what’s on it.” He grins, and you start to doubt his intentions.

“Wait, why are you helping me?” You start carefully, but he waves your question away. “Later.” You doubt him even harder.

“But yeah, anyways, he has a bunch of info on his proxies on there. It’s pretty hard even for me to read that shit on there because he messes with your perception and shit, so I’m not even sure if that info’s real or not, and if he knows I’m inside or not and is hence giving me weird info or whatever.” He pauses. “You prefer your info verbally or written down?”

You think for a bit. “Verbally,” you choose carefully. Unlikely to leak in case shit hits the fan somehow, and easier to clarify.

“Good choice,” he remarks with another grin, retracting his legs into a crossed position, elbow on his knee and resting his cheek on it. “Hm, where do I start…Tobester it is, I guess.”

He clears his throat. “To summarize the mindfuck of data on Slendy’s hellish computer, Toby was wiped of his memories because he decided the sheer amount of trauma would fuck with his ability to do his job. But he notes that the effects of the trauma remain, though not in full, what with the no memories shit and all. If you wanna treat him…well, I dunno, you could either gaslight him into forgetting his trauma responses,” he giggles here, “or you gotta dig those painful memories out and get him to…mm, what’s that called again? Processing? Yeah, you gotta get him to process that shit.”

“Hm,” you grunt, not knowing how else to respond. “Anything else?”

BEN chuckles. “Hey now, princess. Can’t leak all my precious info immediately, can I?” Then he continues, “Invading that stupid fucking computer is hard fucking work. I’m never doing that shit again.” His eyes slowly slide back to yours, and his grin widens maliciously. “Not for free, that is.”

And in a flash, he pounces on you, and you yelp, squirming to escape his ice-cold touch, but he’s surprisingly strong for being a ghost. He traces your jaw, laughing at your state. “Oh, my precious innocent human,” he drawls. “What did you expect?”

It’s true. What did you expect?

“You,” he pokes your nose, causing you to retract even further, “Are going to treat Jeff and EJ as well.”

Huh?

He clicks his tongue and settles back on his own beanbag, sighing. “I’m a poltergeist, not a rapist. That’s Jeff’s job.”

Your jaw extends outwards in horror.

“Yeah. I don’t really care though,” he shrugs. “He even tells me about it. It’s kinda gross.”

Your head spins. You’re going to throw up. But you stay firmly rooted in your place. You’re a therapist for serial killers now, you can’t be fazed by a brief mention.

BEN doesn’t seem to notice your distress, or if he does, he doesn’t show it. “I don’t give a shit about what he does to randos, but I do give a shit about how he feels. I live with the fucker and I’d hate for how he feels to affect me.” You start thinking that BEN hides his own emotions from himself too, but he seems a bit too self-aware for that. Though, you can’t eliminate that possibility.

“But anyways, he seems rather…sad? When he talks about it. Dunno if that’s the right word, but his eyes are usually all madman-like, but when he talks about raping his victims, that madness dies a bit. Maybe he does it for validation or something. And when he talks about it, it sounds kinda forced. I want you to find out what’s going on with that.”

“I mean…I’ll do it, I guess, but why do you want to know…?” You don’t buy that he doesn’t care about Jeff, so you probe a little.

“I’m interested. Also, I wanna tease him about it if he has a breakthrough regarding it or something.” He shrugs. “Oh, and about EJ, I just want him to motherfucking eat in peace without whining to me or literally anyone that he can’t eat kidneys and cult shit and whatever.” At your look of confusion, he explains. “I don’t think he’s the type to hide this from you if he does agree to therapy,” he gags mockingly at the word, “but I might as well give you context anyway. He’s a demon, but he used to be human till some weird cult turned him into one. Then he went batshit and ate them all, and now he keeps whining about his diet, and it’s fucking annoying. Always wanted him to stop feeling so guilty.”

Yeah, he definitely cares about his friends, though he might not even call them friends out loud. And so out of respect for perhaps the only sane while friendly one in this cursed house, you say, “Yeah, I’ll try.”

He grins at you again. “Good. Do that, and I’ll give you more info as you go.”

Then you start to regret it a little because Jeff seems absolutely fucking whack.

55 notes · View notes

fillinforlater · 1 year

Note

Could u do a quickie with minju with glasses and thighs

Phone: Return of the Angel +1

Male Reader x Kim Minju x Yeh Shuhua

Length: 2055 words

Tags: THIGHS, thigh fucking, thigh riding, cumming on thighs, also blowjob, cunnilingus, squirting, finger fucking, threesome, game, competition, horny!Minju / rival/Shuhua

TW: UNEDITED QUICKIE

Inspiration: the request PLUS an @friskyriskywhisky ask. The source of all hooni lmao

(A/N: Phone being revived and I have more ideas for it planned. But first of, enjoy this thigh goodness!)

>@you, better be ready! I have company ;)< Sent by Angel

You didn’t know when she would strike, how she would do it and most importantly, who she would bring along, so you were on your toes. The message popped up shortly after you left Honey Julia’s house, who’s bratty act was actually nothing but a facade, a character she liked to play. After your sessions she was very sweet and offered you to stay the night, but a suspicion, a feeling urged you to decline her offer. However, you will definitely visit her again one day.

It’s been a couple of hours since Minju sent the message. The sun is already setting, a cold breeze softly hushes through the streets and everything seems so peaceful and calm. You know this is the case now, but as soon as someone knocks on the door, it won’t be quiet for the entire night. Luckily, it won’t annoy anyone and you still have a couple of days of vacation left, so it’s going to be fine—

“Hello~ Minju is back~!”

She didn’t knock. She walked straight through the door, probably expecting that you would have unlocked it beforehand. Unlike last time, a pair of glasses lay on her small nose and bring out a new side to her gorgeous face. Most of her body is once again covered by the black overcoat you saw on her first trip to your house. The only part that is visible are her long, smooth-looking legs and high-heels you would only ever see on a prostitute. Wait, is she never cold?

“My God! Didn’t your parents teach you how to knock?”

“Sorry, Daddy, “ Minju gasps out her apology in between deep, rapid breaths, “but Minju needs you right now.”

“You needy little thing,” you sigh in played annoyance. Suddenly, footsteps make you refocus your horny brain from Minju to someone else. Unlike the slutty Angel, they walk in with slow, confident steps in rather quiet sneakers instead of clicking heels.

“It’s different from what you’re thinking.”

Her voice is seductive. Her dark hair is wavy. Her skirt is short. Very short. Underneath them two massive thighs protrude and their firm looking skin makes your mouth water. Her focused and fierce gaze rests on you as you inspect her delicious body, not daring to complain about her intrusion. A stranger she may be, but she is a very hot one.

“We need your opinion,” she starts and Minju interrupts her hastily.

“You need to decide whose thighs are better: Minju’s or Shuhua’s,” the horny Angel says, before pressing her palms on your chest and pushing you down onto the nearby couch. As you fall into the cushions of the warm, black fabric, Minju removes the warm, black fabric that is her overcoat and lets it drop to the floor.

Given what you know about Minju, it shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did, but when she straddles you, you not only see but also feel that she was only wearing an oversized T-shirt underneath. Her wet lips rest right above the zipper of your dark jeans that struggle to keep your erection from bursting out.

“Uhm, s-sure. Just close the damn door. It’s freezing outside,” you groan as Minju fidgets with the hem of your pants for a second. In her position it’s almost impossible to get you undressed, so you decide to help her out. Gently, you grab her sides and try to move next to you onto the couch. She resists.

“No, please, Minju wants to go first!”

“You can go first, dummy, but if you sit like this, they will never come off.”

“Hmph, fine.”

You stand up and get ready to pull down both jeans and boxers, but Minju is faster. The second she has forced the garments around your ankles, her lips are around your cock and she takes in your entire length in one go. You shout out your blissful arousal with quick curses. Before you completely succumb to the feeling of Minju’s deepthroating skill and the sound of her gags, Shuhua rushes back from closing the door.

“Yah! Minju, you idiot! We had a competition, you cock hungry whore!”

“Hm, right,” Minju mumbles, your tip still on her tongue. Once again, she pushes you into the couch and gets in position. This time, nothing is in the way of your manhood and her glistening pussy and voluptuous thighs. After a bit of shuffling and adjusting, Minju sits on your crotch sideways, your cock in her perfect gap.

“Okay! Minju is ready~” the girl shouts out in lewd delight and Shuhua nods.

“Good. You got five minutes to pleasure him with your thighs only, then it’s my turn. Whoever makes him cum wins. Ready, set, go!”

The few seconds you were allowed to savor the hot, motionless feeling around your cock is gone with the end of the countdown. Minju goes all in from the start to create friction in the tight opening right in front of her pussy. Its juices provide enough lubrication for her to easily go up and down your shaft. She wouldn’t be the horny Angel however without an extra trick up her sleeve.

With each stroke, she flexes and relaxes her thighs. Pressure all around your throbbing cock becomes suffocating at quick intervals and you can’t help but groan at the tightness. Minju’s rapid, mindless jumps cause her to not only release those girly, cock-hungry moans you already are familiar with, but also more of her juices. She goes faster and faster.

"Fuck," you groan and reach for her hips to make her slow down. If you come in the next few minutes, this won't even be a competition and all the fun would be over, so it is in your interest to hinder her enthusiasm. Although Minju fights it, you can decrease her pace. She is not happy about it and let's you know.

"No, Daddy! Minju wants to cum, Minju needs to cum!"

"What a slut," Shuhua groans under her breath and sits down next to you on the couch. Her soft hands reach for yours and your hold on Minju's wide hips is loosened.

"Let her go. I want to see more of this."

Your brief confusion leads to Minju immediately seizing the opportunity to go all out. She leans forward to kiss Shuhua's lips or cheek or somewhere on her gorgeous face, but she backs off. Minju whimpers and puckers her lips for kisses that are out of reach.

"No-oh," Shuhua says in a mocking tone and pushes Minju away at her forehead, "focus, or you will lose, pretty bitch."

At this point, Minju is actually about to win. The sight before you and her never constantly constraining thighs make your head throw back on it's own. You need to direct your gaze up to the ceiling, the boring, dirty white ceiling to not cum to the sensation of Minju's thrilling, smooth pale skin.

Suddenly, Minju adjusts herself and you feel your dick rub next to her clit and up to her shaven pelvis. The sensation might not be as pleasurable as before because her thighs don’t create the same friction, but you understand why she did this. The stimulation on her hard nub makes her climax and squirt hot juices all over your cock. The girl cum runs down your shaft and thoroughly covers your balls and the couch.

“You’re so selfish!” Shuhua complains. You catch a mischievous glimpse in her eyes from the corner of yours while your main focus is on a screaming and moaning Minju enjoying her orgasm in rapid twitches. She gets interrupted by a sudden thud.

“My turn,” claims Shuhua, and like a Rugby Pro, she tackles Minju off of your lap and onto the cushions. It’s either a perfect calculation or a downright miracle that your hard member escaped unscaved, still you release a surprised yelp.

You a frozen in shock for a second or two, however long it takes for Shuhua to remove her drenched panties and take her approach on a thigh fuck. She is face down, in almost a right angle on your lap and her ass is right at your crotch. A few adjustments later, the pre-cum leaking tip of your cock protrudes from her thigh gap.

“Fuck,” you groan ou through gritted teeth as Shuhua begins to sway her hips slowly side to side to massage your dick. Unlike Minju, she isn’t rash and uncontrollable or constantly flexes her pronounced muscles, instead she uses all the liquids on your cock (and her own) to make each movement go smoothly.

Comparing their thighs is like comparing their styles: impossible. There are things to like about both and you could not imagine preferring only one for a long stretch of time. Minju’s enthusiasm, constant lubrication and mind-numbing moans are good for some days and Shuhua’s carefulness, natural tightness and soothing mewls are for the other days.

It’s again time for you to look away from the action between your legs. Shuhua’s tiny skirt is already (intentionally, of course) bunched up around her waist and her round ass-cheeks need to be squeezed. It must not be part of your judgment, all that should count is the sensation of her thighs.

You direct your eyes to the right, where Shuhua’s head rests right next to Minju’s spread legs. The girl in glasses has her T-shirt bunched up (intentionally, of course) above her breasts and plays with her own nipples, while the black haired girl uses tongue and finger to tease Minju’s clit.

“Shuhua, d-damn,” you groan, “you are so good at this, fuck.”

“Are you about to cum?” she says in a serious tone while huffing hot air on Minju’s glistening heat.

“No,” you two moan in unison.

“Then I’ll change that.”

A burst of speed in her thigh-cock-massage and rubs over Minju’s slick labia are Shuhua’s first step at achieving her goal, but she is definitely not done yet. The moment she thrusts two fingers into her friend’s squeezing pussy, she begins to thrust her hips up and down on your lap. The thigh fuck is even faster than Minju’s and a sight to behold. How her voluptuous ass crashes down and the way all of her curvy goodness wiggles and ripples is not only a sight to behold, but also incredibly loud.

The only thing louder is Minju. Her screams could drown out a nearby fighter jet. Shuhua probably knows all her spots and fingers them violently, not caring if she overstimulates the brunette. Her thumb swipes over the hard clit and you can see in Minju’s teary eyes that she is about to climax again and again.

The same goes for your cock. The tip peeks out repeatedly and it looks like it’s about to combust, burst, explode and all your efforts of holding back are just a pain. Sometimes you have to surrender.

“Fuck, Shuhua, d-don’t stop!”

“Cum already! You’re dick is so hot, I want it to spray my ass.”

Shuhua becomes rougher to the point where you and the angel immediately collapse. Your seed gets fucked out in ropes that either shoot in the air and cover Shuhua’s ass from the top or it creams in between and all over her thighs.

It is somewhat comparable to Minju. Shuhua finger fucks every last drop of squirt out of the breathless, convulsing girl. The juices cover herself, the couch, Shuhua’s face and digits. She dives into lick it all up and makes Minju whine with an eager tongue on her sensitive entrance.

Deep breaths fill the room. No one is really moving or making an attempt to clean up. It’s a mess and you feel the urge to complain. The couch was only a year old and now it’s probably ruined, unusable. However, the hypocrisy of your own actions—after all, you did not make an effort to change the setting of your fucking—is so obvious, even your mushy mind can understand it.

“So,” you say, looking at Shuhua, rather trying to look at her and not at the shaven cunt right next to her face, “what is the punishment?”

“Punishment?”

“Of losing the game, dummy.”

“Oh right,” Shuhua smirks in a unique playful yet devilish way, “the game.”

(A/N2: Fuck, this woman-)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #minju smut #kim minju #izone smut #shuhua smut #gidle smut #gi dle smut #yeh shuhua #male reader #male reader insert

728 notes · View notes

coldfanbou · 2 years

Text

Milan Trip

This time, a shorter piece, some rough sex, anal, cheating, and breastfeeding.

Length 1.2K

Sana X Mreader

Previous Part

It was the first time in months that you had seen her properly; while she was pregnant, you would visit her and her husband’s home. Anytime he would step out for a moment, you would eye each other, lusting after each other. At every opportunity, when he would be away for a couple of minutes, you would take the opportunity to use her mouth or, later on in her pregnancy, drink her milk straight from the source. Half a year after she’d given birth Sana decided she needed to take some time for herself. Being the good boss you were, you let her husband go and work from home, relaxing any deadlines he might have. Sana would head out to Milan for a nice getaway, she always wanted to go there, and you just so happened to have a business trip at the same time. Her husband knew this, of course, so he came to you to ask if you could make sure she was alright and that she had a good time. “Of course, what kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t make sure your wife wasn’t enjoying herself?”

You and Sana would spend most of the days fucking each other’s brains out while on this trip. In secret, the two of you had planned out this little getaway so you could finally fuck, the sexual tension between the two of you had been building for months, and soon enough, blowjobs weren’t enough for you, and she needed you.

Right now, Sana stood before you, looking out onto the streets below as you took her from behind. “Fuck, I missed your cock. I needed this so badly,” She says between moans. Her walls were clamped around your cock as it stretched her pussy to its limits; Sana was as tight as ever. Every thrust you took pressed her against the window of her hotel room. She loved the idea of someone being able to watch her be fucked. You felt Sana get tighter around you as she soon came, her juices spraying out onto the floor below. Her knees buckle, and you’re forced to hold her up. “Oh fuck baby, I’m sorry for cumming so early, but your cock is just so good, and I haven’t been fucked in so long.” You press her engorged tits onto the window and keep bucking your hips.

“That’s alright, Sana; I’ll just make sure to retrain you.” Sana smiles upon hearing this.

“Do it, baby, train my slutty pussy again.” she pleads. You lift one of her legs so you can go deeper; Sana’s moans fill the room as you continue to fuck her. Grabbing one of her tits with your other hand, you squeeze down on her nipple, causing her to shoot out a small amount of breast milk. “Fuck, that felt good; do it again. Use my body.” You continue to play with her nipple as you fuck her. This time when she nears her orgasm, your close as well. You grab onto her hips and slam her down on your cock as you thrust up. Sana starts to scream out in pleasure as her walls squeeze down around your cock. Her back arches as you impale your cock into her pussy as your cum floods her pussy. As you pull out of Sana, you take her to the bed and throw her on top. Sana smiles back at you, loving when you do that.

“Time for another picture Sana.” Sana spreads her pussy lips with one hand while squeezing her tit with the other. Your cum started to leak out of her as she waited for you to snap a picture. She wanted to take pictures to show her husband she had a good time, but you thought it would be an excellent opportunity for her to remember the time you spent together. Grabbing her phone, you take a few pictures of her and a short video. You hold her legs and pull her towards you when you're done. Her legs rest on your shoulder as you align your cock with her pussy, and you push back in. Sana’s moans fill the room as you start to move again. You press your body against hers, and Sana’s legs end up by her head. Sana moans out your name as you continue to pound away; you take a nipple into your mouth, suckling on it. As you drink from her tits, you hear Sana say she loves it when you suck on her tits. “Do you let your husband have a taste of your milk Sana?”

“Never; I haven’t let him touch me since I got pregnant. You’re the only one I want sucking on my tits, the only one I want fucking me.” You lean forward to kiss Sana and feel her tongue try to make its way into your mouth. Sana desperately wanted more, and you would give it to her as a rough pounding as you continued to impale her on your cock. The only sounds in the room were her moans and her bodies colliding. As you near your next orgasm, you start pulling away from Sana, confusing her.

You flip her over onto her back, “One load for your pussy and one for your ass, Sana.” you say with a smile. Sana looks a little nervous at this idea. You continue, spreading her ass apart; you see her puckered asshole. Pressing the head of your cum coated cock against her asshole, Sana grips the bedsheets awaiting your cock. Slowly but surely, you put every inch into Sana's asshole.

“Shit, you’re going to break me!” She screams.

“Good, you’ll be my personal fucktoy from now on. You won’t be going back to your husband after this.” You don’t give her a chance to rest as you immediately start thrusting; Sana’s asshole basically crushes your cock, as it squeezes your cock. You love the feeling of Sana’s ass and keep moving at the quick pace allowed by your slick cock.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck me!” Sana came around pretty quickly to her asshole being used. “Fuck my ass! Use me like a fuck toy!” Hearing Sana be so enthusiastic, you start to go faster soon, and you feel yourself about to cum.

“What happened, Sana? You looked like you weren’t enjoying this.”

“It doesn’t matter what I thought; I’m just your little fuck toy, baby. Use me in any way you want, anywhere you want” You feel yourself coming closer to your climax, hearing Sana agree to be your fucktoy from now on.

“I’m going to cum, Sana.”

“Do it! Fucking, cum inside this whore!” You ram your cock back into her asshole one final time before you unload yourself. Sana goes limp on the bed as you slowly pull out of her. Grabbing the camera again, you take a picture of her gaping asshole leaking cum.

“If you’re really going to be my fuck toy, why don’t you send one of these pictures to your husband?”

You hand Sana her phone, and without hesitation, she sends the picture of her spreading her pussy to her husband. “I’m all yours now, baby.” She says while looking at you. Taking her phone back, you turn it off; you don’t need any interruptions.

#sana smut #kpop smut #male reader #twice smut

555 notes · View notes

blnk338 · 1 year

Text

COD Headcanons!!

Pt 2 b/c you guys loved these sm

Relationship hcs!!

Price:

Good chef, GREAT at bbq

Taps his phone screen too hard and squints at it

Googled “Pegging” because Soap told him to

Regrets it dearly

“I’m just going to rest my eyes” and falls into comatose for 8-10 years

Was the best man at Laswell’s wedding and still cries today thinking about it

Does the dad-sneeze thing

Supporter of small businesses

Vanilla > chocolate ice cream will get into a heated argument over this

Will put on a 19th-century oil tycoon accent when asking questions about technology to make light of the situation

This started when he didn’t know how to change the wallpaper on his iPhone

Laswell does an incredible impression of his impression

Crazy emetophobia

HOLIDAY DAD! Absolutely shite with gifts but will wake up at 3 am to set up everything and give you a good holiday

Very comfortable in his masculinity from raising two daughters, made sure to teach himself how to raise them to be smart and safe, and actively does his best to keep himself in check and support the women in his life

Ultimate straight ally

His oldest, 15, made him and her little sister go to pride and he voluntarily wore a shirt that said “free dad hugs”

Gaz:

Got Price to say “Girl trust you will be dealt with” and had to get Soap to punch him so he could breathe again

Fluent in French!

Bisexual w/ a preference for women

Needs two triple-shot espressos every morning

Hates oat milk; thinks it's grainy

Is lactose intolerant though

But he’s not the shit-your-brains-out lactose intolerant, he’s the wallow-in-pain-on-the-bathroom-floor-for-eighty-minutes lactose intolerant

Turkey hater. Not the animal, the food. Thinks it’s dry and flavorless

Okayish cook, phenomenal baker.

Will leave baked goods in the sergeant's/lieutenant's and captain's offices/breakrooms and act surprised when he sees the plate of freshly baked brownies

Tried smoking weed, hated it.

Middle child of an older sister and a younger brother

Didn’t like The Office

Soap:

Can make balloon animals out of anything balloon-like (condoms included)

Has a TikTok, makes TikTok references

Loves cats and dogs equally, but had only dogs growing up so he’s not really sure how to deal with cats

In a constant state of "trying his best"

Dick stick-n-poke tattoo on his calf

30-minute night routine

Double exfoliates

Disgusted at Ghost’s hygiene

Loves the holidays; this man goes fucking insane for Christmas lights and his house is the biggest source of light pollution in the entirety of the UK

RELIGIOUSLY a supporter of small businesses. Loves little family-run stores and buys local produce/groceries all the time

Highlighter kid in grade school

Blamed a fart on Gaz and asked him if he was feeling “Gazzy” (Garrick smacked the shit out of him)

Makes gagging noises over comms to fuck with Price

Knows what kinning is, kins Rainbow Dash

ADHD

Coffee does the opposite for him; he’ll be bouncing off the walls and you’ll hand him a double shot espresso and he’s calm as all fuck

GREAT AT READING SOCIAL CUES THOUGH

Really knows how to read body language and will step back if anyone gets uncomfortable

Youngest of 3 brothers and one older sister (she’s second to oldest amongst his siblings)

König:

Will literally sit at home in full tactical gear

Chess master

Loves horror movies but gets super scared

Likes Scrabble

Bug kid!!!!!

Hates birds. No one knows why.

Doesn’t drink, prefers virgin versions of alcohol

Drunk König is a sad König

Wore headgear because of his teeth when he was in middle school

Favorite color is yellow but does love green!

Will accidentally man-handle people because he forgets his strength

Always so terribly sorry about it

Ghost:

Has had his license revoked an uncountable number of times (currently does not have a license)

Drives

No rizz

Horrifyingly good aim with anything and everything. Will chuck trash across the house and somehow land it in the bin

Will lean his head down slightly if someone he respects (and is shorter than him) is talking

One of those dog people that’s like “I fucking hate cats.” And then you find them napping together, and he’s carrying the cat in the hood of his jacket, and he sneaking them treats, and he’s talking to them in a baby voice…

Wins staring contests, always

Knows his staring is bad, but doesn’t really do anything to change it

Speaking of which, he’s got a horrible German stare (google it)

Spaces out and sways side to side slightly, unaware that he’s been glaring lasers into an unsuspecting private for like a solid forty seconds.

Doesn’t know what kinning is but would kin Winter Soldier / Bucky Barnes

Likes sensory toys but will never buy one because he thinks they’re too obvious.

Really wants a sensory slug

Definitely the jealous type but will not say a single fucking word

Soft spot for animals and young children

Likes drinking for a buzz, but will easily stop himself. He doesn’t like being unaware of his surroundings

Edibles > mass amounts of alcohol

Little fidgeting -> rubbing his thumb across the side of his index finger, squeezing his hands, twitching his feet but not enough to tap them, playing with the hems of stuff

Mirrors in his house are covered/removed

Wants a pet but won’t get one because he doesn’t like the idea of something relying on him, only to abandon them or discard them. He’s away for work often so it’s not like they would be taken care of

Doesn’t actively seek partners because he doesn’t think he’s worth it

Behind the confident, stoic attitude, he’s a man who doesn’t value himself and therefore, if he does have feelings for anyone, doesn’t put in the effort to pursue them or he tries to kill the warm feelings in him.

Better to be alone than to hurt someone he cares about

Graves:

Screams at Football (US) games

Thinks he can out-grill Price; cannot.

Lost his kids in the divorce

Thinks no-sock loafers are the way to go

Doesn’t wear socks that much, actually

Can’t handle spice

Mint n’ chip ice cream kinda guy

Fav beer is Natty Lit

Likes egg salad

Dog guy

Divorced twice, btw

“But if the roles were reversed…”

Doesn’t have a problem with climate change, and thinks that the weather is getting nicer so, if anything, the climate is just getting better

Uses Crest toothpaste

Left-handed and makes a big deal out of it

Gets really up in the ass about calling soccer “football” (not ironically)

426 notes · View notes

dustydaddyyy · 6 months

Text

iv: miss you | joel miller x f!reader

flash point (series) masterlist

pairing: pre-TLOU! joel x fem!reader (no use of y/n!) summary: on a particuarly wet night, you run across tess servopoulos and joel miller, and they help you out of a tight spot chapter warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, swearing, nightmares, mentions of stab wounds, FEDRA is basically an authoritarian regime, fireflies are not much better, constant POV-changing (sorry not sorry I'm trying to be an omniscient b), a lot of jokes about joel's old-man status, the slowest slow-burn of slow burns (because I'm trash and like to make you all wait for it), joel is kind of slightly less of an asshole in some parts of this chapter (when is joel not an asshole tbf), !TW!: mentions of parent death and suicide

a/n: *cracks knuckles* time for some character backstory hehehe. also more sam interactions because mark my words he's going to be an important character. we're not going to be talking about how long this took me to post. all i can tell you is that chapter 5 will be up by the beginning of next week, as well, so stay tuned xx K

"I've been holding out so long

I've been sleeping all alone

Lord, I miss you"

It was always the same nightmare.

Same field, same sky, same scream.

You were always frozen, unable to move, watching helplessly as the figure advanced past the barbed wire of the zone slowly, arms so thin they looked like they could snap, shoulder blades visible against the thin material of the dirty shirt. You would watch in horror as the figure spread their arms wide, as if welcoming death, before opening their mouth. The scream always felt as though it were straight in your skull, echoing through every cavity in your body and sending white hot fear through your stomach.

You’d always woken up the same way, as well, sitting bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as your thundering heartbeat echoed in your ears, eyes wide and filled with unshed tears.

Tonight had been no exception.

You try to keep your breathing under control as you sit upright, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. For a scary, disorienting moment, you have no idea where you are, gaze scanning the room for any hint of familiarity before your brain catches up and your memories fill you in.

Joel's apartment. Joel's couch.

Breathe.

The nightmare hadn't been new, but somehow, tonight, it had been worse. You were used to waking up in cold sweat and having to remind yourself it was just a nightmare, before falling back asleep, but tonight it was different.

Maybe it was the unfamiliarity with the environment, or simply the fact that this one had felt even more vivid and unsettling than the ones that had come before. Your heart pounds like a frantic drum as the remnants of your nightmare cling to your mind like cobwebs, a lingering haze of terror that refuses to dissipate.

It takes a second before your heartbeat settles again. Wiping the few tears that managed to escape your eyes from your cheeks, you try to take deep breaths. Casting a ghostly glow through the half-shut curtains, the moon is the only source of light as it hangs low in the midnight sky. Slowly you lower yourself back down onto the couch, hands trembling as they grip the sheet you'd been given by Tess, eyes staring up at the grimy ceiling. It's a warm night, one of those that makes every piece of clothing cling to your body. You had discarded your shorts long ago, leaving you in only the old but clean smelling t-shirt Tess had handed you before going to sleep.

Desperately trying to close your eyes and go back to sleep, you twist and turn. You lie awake for a good long while, but nothing seems to work, the adrenaline of your nightmare coursing through your veins and keeping your mind awake. Swallowing hard, you take a deep breath and sit up again, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and burying your face in your hands, trying to shake off the lingering fear.

"Jesus," you whisper to yourself as you straighten out, before standing on shaky legs and quietly padding over to the kitchen. Normally, you'd have some shame about walking around somebody else's kitchen in the middle of the night in nothing but your underwear, but thankfully the shirt Tess gave you is too big, and just about long enough to cover your ass. You turn the faucet on, the water coming out a measly and unstable stream, before you cup your hands under it, bending down to splash some water on your face. You're not expecting it to work, but you still find the that the cold water helps ground you a little as you straighten back up, using your t-shirt to wipe the drops from your face.

You try to pull open a few cabinets as quietly as possible, looking for a glass. As you peer into the third one, which is filled with what looks like old coffee tins, a voice sounds from behind you.

"Glasses are under the sink."

You can't help the sharp intake of breath as you turn around to give Joel a wide-eyed look. He's standing ��or rather, leaning– against the doorframe of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he peers at you. The dim moonlight reflects off the bare skin of his arms in his t-shirt, and it takes a lot of willpower not to stare at the grooves of the muscles in his biceps, smooth and powerful.

"Fucking Christ, Joel," you breathe out as you pinch the bridge of your nose, "Give a girl a warning if you're going to do that."

"How would I have made sure you weren't stealing if I'd said I was standing behind you?" he asks, and you raise a single, sarcastic eyebrow.

"How do you know I'm not stealing from you, then?" you ask him, and for the first time since you've met him, Joel doesn't seem to react to your inflammatory tone, and he shrugs.

"You'd have looked in those tins," he says simply, and you press your lips together as you realize he makes a more than valid point.

You say nothing as you turn away from him, opening the cabinet he pointed out and pulling out a glass of water. Joel tries his hardest not to look at the way Tess' shirt rides up slightly over the curve of your ass to reveal the seams of your underwear, exposed skin illuminated by the peeking moonlight, but it's a force stronger than himself. It's silent between the two of you as you run the tap and fill up your glass, before taking a few big gulps.

"Couldn't sleep?" Joel asks suddenly, and again, you take notice of the fact that his tone is devoid of its usual gruffness.

"Yeah," you say, turning back to look at him, glass in hand.

Joel's eyes zero in on the t-shirt you're wearing, and he realizes with a start that he recognizes the faded logo on the chest and the once vibrant color of the material. Sure, Tess had appropriated the shirt a long time ago when it had stopped fitting Joel, but seeing it on you still sent a shiver through him. He wasn't sure how it made him feel.

"You an insomniac or something?"

"Sometimes," you say with a tight-lipped smile, "Why are you awake? Except to make sure I'm not stealing from you, apparently."

It's dark, so you aren't sure, but you swear you can see Joel's mouth twitch ever so slightly into what you might've considered a smile.

He shrugs. "Couldn't sleep either, I guess."

Joel wonders if you can tell that he's lying.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that once upon a time, Joel had been someone's father, but he was a light sleeper. This meant that he'd easily been awoken by the sounds of your crying whilst you'd been having your nightmare. He hadn't moved a muscle at first, assuming that you were awake and not wanting to get involved in personal business that didn't concern him, but eventually, he'd heard you wake up with a gasp and a cry and realized you'd been having a nightmare.

Usually, Joel would've relished an opportunity to get on your nerves. Maybe it was the peace of the early hours of the night, or maybe he'd been far too well acquainted with how these kinds of nightmares could rattle you, but he felt no urge to tell you about what he'd heard.

Besides all of that, he also figured it was none of his damn business, anyway.

You let out a hum as you nod, leaning against the counter, eyes on the floor between your feet. After another few beats of silence, Joel speaks up again.

"Do you trust him?"

You look up in surprise at his question, and Joel feels the need to elaborate.

"This. . . Samuel."

You give a nod, letting a breath out through your nose. "With my life."

There's another beat of silence.

"Ain't he FEDRA?" Joel asks again, and for a second you can hear the usual abrasive, skeptical tone. Your eyes move to meet his in the dark, gaze suddenly piercing through him as you give a little shrug and a slight raise of your eyebrow.

"I used to be FEDRA," you state simply, and Joel fights hard to keep the surprise off of his face, "You trust me."

"That's still debatable," Joel says, and you give a small huff of laughter, before taking another sip.

"Fair enough," you say with a nod, your eyes focusing on the water in your glass.

Joel really wants to ask you what you mean when you say you used to be FEDRA, but he doesn't. After a second, you let out a breath, looking up and giving him a semi-awkward smile.

"I think I'm going to try and get some sleep," you tell him, "When all of this has gone smoothly, I still have to work an 8 hour shift."

"You're going to jinx it."

"Anyone ever tell you you're kind of a pessimist?" you tell him with a tight lipped smile, and he shrugs his shoulders, making an indifferent face.

"Not to my face," he tells you, and you nod again as you push off of the counter. As you step past him, you stop for a second to look at him sideways, corners of your mouth twitching ever so slightly.

"Well, you're kind of a pessimist, Joel Miller," you tell him, your voice a semi-whisper, before you move on and away, disappearing through the doorway and into the darkness of the living room.

The next morning, you're gone before Joel and Tess even wake up, leaving nothing but a pile with the folded sheet and the t-shirt behind. You'd managed to sweet talk your manager into letting you open, having no problem letting yourself into the dark Starbucks to go about usual opening activities until you hear the sound of a truck pulling up in the alleyway followed by a few firm knocks at the backdoor. You open the door with a smile, and the soldier that greets you, frowns.

"You're new," he mutters, and you pretend to look surprised, "Where's Lucy?"

"Sorry," you say in your best apologetic tone, "Lucy said I could open today. . .she said she's sent word it would be me instead of her?"

"Fucking tower's been down again because of the storm last night," he mutters, before he takes a minute of silence to look down at you. Then, he sighs. "Whatever, I don't care enough. . . she tell you how this works?"

You nod. "You're just dropping off, right? Someone else comes by to do inventory and handle pick up?"

"Come on," he beckons you out into the alley, where the truck has been parked back first, canvas cover flipped open to reveal the contents of the truck, "Pick up's not until closing time, but someone will be by in a half hour to inventorize. . . he's always fucking late, that one, but he'll be there. Then pick up will be later in the day. . . help me with this, will you? Partner's out sick and fuck knows central couldn't spare me the extra kid."

Together you spend the next 5 minutes lugging crates, barrels and boxes into the back of the Starbucks. When you're done, you give the soldier a blinding smile as he closes up the truck.

"Thanks for the help," he tells you, and you nod, smile still on your lips.

"Anytime," you tell him in a sweet voice, "Thanks for not being a dick about it."

The soldier snorts slightly. "What's your name?"

"Jenny," you lie smoothly, and the soldier gives a small nod, the beginnings of a smile on his mouth.

"Thanks for the help, Jenny," he nods, before giving you a crooked grin, "I'm Jack. I'll see you around?"

"Sure thing," you beam, and it feels almost unnatural to smile this much this early in the morning. Despite this, the smile stays plastered on your face until the truck disappears around the corner of the alley.

There's a rustling sound behind you, followed by a voice.

"Jenny?"

You roll your eyes as you turn to face the source of the voice. Sure enough, Joel and Tess are standing at the back of the alley, having seemingly appeared out of the shadows.

How did they do that?

"I bet there are a million Jenny's in the QZ," you say with a shrug, "Means he'll have a harder time finding me if he decides to come looking. . . now come on, we don't have a lot of time."

They follow you inside the room, and when she catches sight of all the crates, Tess lets out a low whistle.

"This is a lot of shit," she says, raising a single eyebrow as her fingers run over the top of one of the boxes, which is labeled 'Penicillin', "Could sell this for a small fortune."

"I'd advise against it," you tell her as you walk over to one of the 4 barrels of fertilizer, "FEDRA might be sloppy with some things, but the one thing they're meticulous about is the medicine."

"Go figure," Tess says with a snort, before she watches as you grab the edges of one of them, before nodding towards her.

"Help me with this, please?" you ask, and for a second, a look of surprise crosses over Tess' face.

"Please?" she repeats, almost bemusedly, "You got some nice manners for a thief."

"Only cause I like you," you return semi-jokingly, and Tess lets out an agreeing hum.

"Can we focus?" Joel interjects, and when you turn to look at him, he's raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "This ain't fucking tea time, you know."

It takes all three of you to move the barrel of fertilizer back out of the door and against the wall, and when you're done lugging and have gone back inside, Tess gives you a look. "Now what?"

"We wait," you say, pacing slightly in front of the door, and Joel frowns.

"I thought we were on a schedule," he notes, raising another skeptical eyebrow, "On account of the entire working population of the QZ going to said jobs in about an hour, and all of that."

"Thanks for enlightening me," you snap at him, and your mind works overtime as you stop in front of the barrel, heaving a sigh.

Where was Sam?

You knew he was working a shift this morning, this shift, because you'd had a sneaky look at the roster he'd stuffed in his pants pocket when he'd been passed out in bed two nights ago.

"So, this is your great plan? Wait around?" Joel continues, crossing his arms and giving you an unimpressed look.

"Do you have a fucking better idea, hm?" you say, stepping towards Joel, hands curling into fists, your lack of sleep catching up to your temper, "Because all I've heard out of your mouth so far has been criticism, and it's starting to seriously piss me off."

"I ain't afraid of you," he counters as he crosses his arms, looking unbothered, and your jaw tightens as you take another step towards him.

At that exact moment there's a sound, and a pair of headlights illuminate the alley; then, the sound of a motor switching off and a car door slamming shut drift through the air. A few moments later there's a hurried knock on the back door. You give Joel another furious glare before stalking over to the door and opening it in one fell swoop. Sam is standing on the doorstep, peering down at a sheet of paper you assume is the inventory list, end of a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry I'm late, couldn't find my fucking lighter," he mutters, before pulling the cigarette from his lips and dropping it on the floor, "You do know you've got one barrel out–"

His voice stalls in his throat as his eyes fall on you, the smoke of his last drag disappearing in the air around him. "Speedy? What are you doing here?"

You give him a dry smile. "Working."

"You never work the morning shift, you'd hit someone over the head with a coffeepot," he retorts matter-of-factly, before he narrows his eyes at you, "You up to something?"

"No," you deny, slightly offended, but when Sam gives you an expectant look, you shrug your shoulders as he steps inside, door closing behind him, "How come I always have to be up to something?"

"I've known you for over a decade, speedy, I know when you're up to something."

"As delightful as this conversation is, can we get on with it?" comes Joel's voice from behind you, and you resist an urge to suck a sharp breath between your teeth.

You wouldn't say Sam is a jealous man, but he isn’t exactly amenable to strangers.

Sam is silent for a second as his eyes move between Joel, Tess, and yourself, the playfulness in his eyes gone. "Who's this?"

His voice is tense, like an elastic that's been pulled taut, and you swallow slightly.

"Doesn't matter," you dismiss, shaking your head, "Look, Sam, I need your help."

Sam's eyes move between you and the two people standing behind you, expression unsure.

"Yeah?" he asks, raising a single eyebrow as he observes the scene, "With what?"

"The blue barrel in the alley outside. . . I need you to write it off the inventory," you tell him, and you watch Sam's eyes move from Joel and Tess to you, jaw falling open slightly. Then, he closes his mouth, eyes becoming stormy as his jaw twitches in anger.

"Are you serious right now, speedy?" he asks you, and you resist the urge to correct him on the nickname in front of Joel and Tess, and you watch as Sam runs his tongue over his top teeth in frustration, "Can I talk to you? Privately?"

"Sam–" you say, but he doesn't give you time to react as he takes a hold of your forearm and all but drags you through the door of the backroom to the front of the shop and out of earshot. Tess and Joel exchange a look at the action, both wordlessly taking a step a little closer to the doorway.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Sam tells you as he rounds on you, eyes narrowed into an expression that makes it clear he isn't happy, "Tell me you're joking, right now."

"Sam, please," you ask, and your voice is surprisingly vulnerable, "Listen, you know how I told you I stole from the wrong people. . . ? Look, all I need to do is this, and then we're even, but I need your help."

"You've got some goddamn nerve, asking me this. . . you're putting me in a fucking impossible position, speedy," Sam hisses at you, eyes bulging slightly, "What if someone notices, hm? Then it's my head on the chopping block."

"They won't notice. . . they can't notice something they never knew they even had," you assure him, putting a hand on his forearm, "Please, Samuel."

After a second of brooding silence, Joel hears Sam sigh.

"What do you even need a barrel of fertilizer for?" he asks, and you let out a breath, giving him an almost guilty look.

"It's better if you don't ask questions," you tell him, your voice slightly uneasy, "Just–. . . please?"

Another beat of silence.

"What's your big fucking plan, then?" he asks, "Even if you had a car, how are you going to move this massive barrel across the QZ without at least 50 guards on your ass?"

"The abandoned church on Salem," you say carefully, knowing he isn't going to take it well.

"That's been boarded off for a very good reason, and you know it," Sam says immediately, shaking his head, "There is no way in hell."

"Come on, Sam," you plead, "I know FEDRA cleared it out forever ago and just keeps those signs up to avoid people sleeping in it."

"How the fuck would you know that, hm?" he snaps at you, before Joel hears him sigh again, "Nevermind, don't answer that, I don't even want to know."

"It's on your delivery route, all you have to do is drop us off with the barrel so I can keep it there all day and move it as soon as it gets dark."

"That all?" he asks you sardonically, and for some reason, Joel finds himself getting irritated at this kid's tone with you. It wouldn't kill him to be a little nicer about things.

Eventually, Sam speaks again.

"Fine," he says, "But I'm not taking your little criminal friends in the truck with me, that's out of the question."

"How the hell am I going to move it, then?" you ask, and you sound put out.

"You can figure that out, since you're so clever," his voice is biting, filled with aggravation, and after a second, Joel hears you sigh.

"Yeah, okay. . . I'll figure it out. Thanks, Sam."

"Don't mention it," he says bitterly, before Joel and Tess hear his heavy boots walking back towards the backroom before he appears in the doorway again, eyes settling on both of them for a second. Then, he looks over his shoulder, looking back at you.

"Come on then," he tells you, his tone irritated, "You think I've got all day?"

Joel feels another stab of annoyance as he regards Sam, but he doesn't say anything, instead exchanging a glance with Tess.

"What's the plan?" Tess asks carefully, even though she's fully aware of it, and the soldier gives her a look.

"Go home," he tells her, rather bluntly, "She can handle it from here."

"I think we'll wait to hear that from her."

Joel doesn't know why he says anything; maybe it's the frustration at his tone, maybe it's the fact that he has stakes in this particular plan succeeding, but he gives the soldier a raised eyebrow as he receives a glare.

"It's okay," you say hastily as you watch Sam open his mouth to deliver what you're sure is a scathing rebuke, and you give Joel a look that clearly means 'drop it', "I'll meet you there."

Joel shakes his head. "And then what? You gonna move that thing by yourself? Not to diminish your abilities, but there's no way in hell you're moving 300 pounds of fertilizer in your lonesome."

"Who said anything about her doing it alone?" Sam interjects, and now Joel raises a single eyebrow.

"You did," he returns bluntly, not giving a damn if he knows he's been listening to their conversation, and Sam squares his shoulders, "Just now, actually."

"Not just a criminal, but an eavesdropper, too?" Sam says sardonically, before turning to you with a frozen, sarcastic smile, "This is the company you're keeping, lately, hm? Real nice."

Joel is about to open his mouth again to tell this little punk exactly what an eavesdropping criminal will do if he keeps speaking to you the way he is, but you beat him to the punch.

"That's enough, Samuel, we don't have time for this shit," you tell him, your voice firm, "I don't need to remind you about keeping bad company, do I?"

Your tone is biting, and clearly it works, because the soldier clamps his mouth shut with a furious glare as you turn back to Joel and Tess.

"I'll be fine," you say with a nod, mostly talking to Joel so he doesn't start anything when there isn't any time for it, "I'll meet you there. . . promise I won't run off with your shit again."

You say that last part with a small smile, which neither Joel nor Tess return, but eventually Tess gives a short nod.

"Tough crowd," you mutter to yourself, before you feel Sam's fingers close over your forearm, which makes you wince slightly, "Ouch, Samuel."

"Come on, then," he says in an irritated tone, ignoring your yelp of pain as he pulls you forward towards the door, "But if we get caught, I'm ratting you out."

Joel and Tess follow you out, and as Sam angrily stomps over to the truck, lifting the tarp from the back, you pull a set of keys out of your pocket and use them to lock the back door.

"You guys go already, you'll need the head start. . .if you cut through the abandoned post office on 5th, you'll get there in 10 minutes, tops," you say as the lock clicks, before grabbing the edges of the barrel.

Tess nods. "Meet you there?"

You give an agreeing hum and a nod, before there's a banging noise as Sam gives the back of the truck a whack.

"Let's fucking go, speedy," he lets out in an exasperated breath as he starts to walk back towards you.

"Sure you got it from here?" Joel huffs out as his eyes move between you and Sam quickly, and you give a small nod, shooting him a furtive smile.

"Yeah, thanks," you say, and you sound genuinely grateful, which catches Joel slightly off guard. He looks at Tess, nodding once, before they step away from you and start to jog down the alley, making sure to glare at Sam in passing.

"Not sure I liked the way that kid grabbed her," Joel lets out gruffly as they round the corner, and Tess gives him an unimpressed look.

"Barely 20 hours ago I had to pull you off of her when you grabbed her in the exact same way."

"That was different," Joel grumbles, and Tess' eyebrow raises.

"How, exactly?" she asks him, but Joel ignores her and gestures for her to move on.

Back in the alleyway, Sam lets out a grunt as the two of you lug the barrel into the back of the truck.

"Unbelievable," he mutters to himself, shaking his head, "You're going to get me killed one day, you know that?"

"Let's hope later rather than sooner, hm?" you answer as the barrel drops into the truck bed with a decisive thump.

Sam lets out a grudging hum, before gesturing towards the back.

There's a moment of silence as you exchange a look, before you make a face.

"You can't be serious," you tell him, and his eyebrows raise.

"No way you're riding in the front, speedy," he tells you, and this time he doesn't sound angry, "I'm sorry, but there's no way I can explain you to anyone if we get stopped. . . besides, wouldn't you rather stay anonymous?"

You give him an annoyed look, before you clench your jaw and grudgingly get in the back of the truck, sitting down next to the barrel on one of the makeshift wooden benches nailed to the side.

"Thank you," Sam says in a breath, before giving you a furtive smile, "See you in 5 minutes."

Then, he unties the tarp at the top of the truck so it falls to cover the contents of the back, you included.

The ride is semi-smooth, except for a moment where Sam gets stopped at a checkpoint because his 'buddy', Carter, wants to know if he has any cigarettes to share. It gives you half a heart attack when you feel him bang his rifle on the metal side of the truck in a joking greeting.

"Sam-my," he says, his voice low and arrogant, "Late on the early shift again, hm?"

"I overslept," Sam says, and you can tell from his dry tone he isn't totally enamored with Carter.

"I would say it happens to the best of us, but. . . we're all here, Sammy."

His smug laugh floats through the morning air, and it makes you roll your eyes.

Jesus Christ, this guy.

As you suspect, Carter just wants a cigarette. But as he leans through the window, you hear him clear as day as he speaks to Sam. "You got anything extra today? For my pain, you know."

There's a grunt from Samuel as you listen to him rummaging around, before Carter lets out a contented hum and clears his throat, stepping away from the truck. "Alright, come on, let him through."

The truck rumbles down the street as you leave the checkpoint behind, and barely a few minutes and a corner later, it stops and the motor switches off. You hear Sam's footsteps as he jumps from the driver side and walks around to the back of the truck, before lifting the tarp.

"Out you come," he says, and you clamber out as inconspicuous as possible, which you're not going to lie, is hard.

Finally your feet hit the ground in front of him.

"You know," you say as you stand up straight to face Sam, your face barely a few inches from his, "I wouldn't let Carter walk all over you like that."

"I can't remember asking for your opinion," he tells you with a sarcastic smile, and you raise your eyebrows slightly, making a face.

"You could take him."

"I don't want to, speedy," Samuel says with a scoff, shaking his head as he lowers the latch of the truck, "I'm not interested in making enemies like you are."

"I don't make enemies," you defend slightly, and even though Sam doesn't look at you, you can tell on his face he doesn't believe you.

"We've been here barely two months and you already owe the wrong people too much money."

"Who said it was money?" you ask again, and when Sam doesn't answer you, you let out a breath through your nose, pursing your lips.

"Is that why you didn't want Joel and Tess in here? Didn't want them to know you bribe your buddy Carter for some extra minutes of sleep? He just a smoker. . . ? Or does he use something stronger?"

"Oh, bite me," Sam tells you with a narrowing of his eyes, and you give him a half-smirk as you stare him challengingly in the face.

"Anywhere you like, Sammy," you tell him teasingly, and he lets out a scoff, shaking his head as the corner of his lips pull upwards.

At that moment, you hear footsteps at the end of the relatively small street, and you turn your head to watch Tess and Joel approaching.

"We all got there in the end!" you say brightly, and you're met with Joel's scowl as he scoffs.

"Speak for yourself, sweetheart, you came in a truck."

You watch as Sam's brow crinkles just slightly at the sound of the nickname Joel uses, but you move on as quickly as you can.

"A man your age, should be keeping fit," you say in a robust, mocking voice, before making a face at him that drips with false concern, "Wouldn't want to risk you dropping dead from a heart attack at the ripe old age of sixty-five, grandpa."

"Means a lot coming from someone who's been alive less than two decades," he snaps back, "Tell me, do you remember what a rotary phone is?"

"I know perfectly well what it is," you reply swiftly, and Joel makes a momentary face like he's considering it.

"How's the day going to work?" Tess interjects suddenly, gaze resting on the expression on Sam's face, whose eyes keep flitting between you and Joel.

You heave a sigh. "I'm going to have to go back to work, but I'll get here as soon as I get off at 3pm."

Tess nods. "Works for me, I got a 4:30pm job to get to. It should finish before curfew at ten."

"I'll stay in the area to make sure nothing goes wrong, then," you say with a short nod, before eyeing them both, "And then your friend and his dudes can do the rest."

"Dudes," Joel repeats, his voice slight with disdain.

"Men, goons, brutes. . . whatever," you say with a wave of your hand.

"You're in luck, my final shift of the afternoon is somewhere around here," Sam says sarcastically, before shooting you a look, "Although not very sure about the coincidences of that."

"M'staying," Joel grunts, exchanging a look with Tess, "Don’t have much going on today, anyway.”

You bite back a snippy comment about how he has no life, concluding that you all don’t really have that much of a life in a post-apocalyptic hellscape.

“I need to go back to the shop,” you say, giving a half-apologetic look, “I can’t miss this shift, and if my boss finds out I skipped after begging her for it in the first place she’ll fire me faster than I can even apologise.”

“Go,” Tess says with a nod, and you give a half-hearted smile before you walk away, Samuel in tow. Joel watches as you exchange a few words, not missing the way Sam’s hand brushes over the side of yours as you talk. Tess also seems to notice, brows raising slightly as she observes your interaction, but she says nothing.

She looks away instead, wondering what the fuck she’s going to do to kill 8 hours with the man-turned-brick-wall that was Joel Miller.

True to your word, you're back at three in the afternoon. The sun is still high in the air, which is thick with humidity. Boston didn't get many hot days, but when it did, they were also horribly humid. Joel and Tess are standing right where you left them, or rather a combination of standing and sitting. They look bored.

You hold up a paper bag as you approach.

“Anybody want a snack?” you ask semi-flippantly, and Joel shoots you a glare from his position leaning against the brick wall, beams of sun illuminating his feet as the rest of him stands in the scarce shade. When you receive no answer from neither him nor Tess, you give a dry smile.

“Not all at once.”

“This isn’t a picnic,” Joel snaps, and you give him a look.

“Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning, grandpa?” you ask him, before your face turns jokingly serious, “Tell me, did you run out of raisins?”

The glare Joel delivers is furious, but you shrug your shoulders in mock innocence.

“Out there you can be as mouthy as you fuckin' want,” you imitate his voice, exaggerating his accent as much as you can as you throw his words from last night in his face, “This counts as out there, right?”

Joel can see in your face that you’re enjoying talking smack to him; your eyes have a twinkle to them he’s not sure whether he likes or loathes.

“I don’t sound like that,” he says finally, resolving not to give in to your digs, because he knows that’s exactly what you want. He watches with some satisfaction as you let a breath out through your nose, almost a huff, eyebrows moving up momentarily as you turn away from him and go to sit down against the wall. Tess is sitting on it, peeling an orange in silence.

The silence doesn’t last very long, though. Joel’s eyes land on your twitching fingers; you’re not someone who likes silence – it makes him wonder why.

“Where the fuck d’you get an orange?” you ask Tess, hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun as you look up at her. She meets your gaze with a nonplussed look.

“Went to the market,” she returns sarcastically, “Selection’s great this time of year.”

Joel feels a distant urge to smile at her snark as you give her a dry smile.

It’s silent again, and for a second Joel rests his head against the wall and allows himself to close his eyes, the only sounds coming from the people in the street around him. It seems silly, but like this, Joel doesn’t have to see. Sure, the sounds of the QZ are quite a bit different from what cities used to sound like, but it’s still nice to close his eyes from time to time and pretend it’s the same.

His ears perk at a new sound, like something scraping against wood, and when he opens his eyes to investigate, they fall on you sitting against the wall. Your knees are pulled up, and Joel’s eyes have to look past your knees to see that you have that tiny blade clutched in one hand and a stick in the other, using your knee to sharpen it to a tip. You’re focused, eyes staring as the blade rolls over the wood, chips curling elegantly before falling into your lap.

“The silence was nice,” Joel comments, and you actually find yourself rolling your eyes, but you don’t look up at him.

“I didn’t say anything,” you tell him pointedly.

More silence. Joel’s eyes feel like they’re staring holes into your head.

“You one of those kids that can’t sit still?” he asks eventually, clearing his throat as he crosses his arms and peers down at you. Your mouth curves slightly but you still don’t look up at him, focusing on your stick.

“So what if I am?” you reply, your voice smooth but Joel discerns the slight defensive tone, “And I’m not a kid, Joel.”

There it is again. Joel hates how much hearing you say his name like that affects him. He looks away, directing his surly expression across the street. There’s a FEDRA checkpoint set up there, and he watches as Sam chats to another soldier. Occasionally, they stop someone, and search them, but it doesn’t get much more exciting than that.

You’re done sharpening your stick; you discard in the dust at your feet, before breathing a small sigh as you look across the road at the checkpoint.

"What's the story?" Tess asks you as she follows your line of sight to Sam, who is standing at the checkpoint actually laughing with one of his fellow soldiers.

"Hm?" you ask her, and she gives you a look as she nods in his direction.

"With your soldier."

"He isn't my soldier."

"He's something," Tess says matter-of-factly, and you let out a sigh.

Joel pretends he isn't listening as he leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes survey the square, but his ears are very tuned into the conversation. As much as he hates to admit it, he's just as curious about the nature of your relationship to Sam as Tess is.

"I've known Sam a long while. . . we met in FEDRA military school," you say finally, and Tess' expression barely changes as her gaze bores into yours, eyebrows moving up as they silently ask you to continue your story.

"Here in Boston?" she asks, and you shake your head.

"No, uh," you clear your throat, and Joel notices the way your fingers twitch nervously around the blade, "San Francisco. . . I was there before I came here a few months ago."

"Didn't they have a full-scale insurrection in San Francisco?" Joel speaks up, and you turn your head to look at him, nodding as your eyes fall back on your fingers, which twirl the knife around in your hands.

"Yeah, it was carnage," you say, swallowing, before your eyes move back up, resting on Sam again, "We barely got out of it alive."

"How'd you end up there in the first place?" Tess asks, and you give her a cautious look.

"How come you're suddenly interested in my life story?" you ask her, your tone almost defensive, and she raises her eyebrows as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"If this goes right, I have a nasty little feeling we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other, and I don't like going into my partnerships blind," she tells you, and you nod with a small scoff, "And I guess we've got time to kill."

"I guess we do," you say sarcastically, and Joel watches as you click the blade into the handle, before putting it in your pocket.

"Outbreak day was the day before my 10th birthday," you explain, swallowing, hands clasping together in your lap, "My parents owned a convenience store in Fresno."

"California?" Tess interjects, frowning, "The hell d'you come all the way out here for?"

"It wasn't my choice," you tell her, sighing as you clear your throat, and Joel watches from his peripheral as you start to pick the skin around your nails.

You’re nervous.

"By some miracle, we lived through outbreak day. . . then, for a while, we were in the San Francisco QZ, but that didn't end well."

"We heard that all the way over here."

You nod, swallowing. "Fireflies. . . just like you have here, I guess, only more willing to risk collateral damage for the cause."

When neither Joel nor Tess speak, you clear your throat again. "San Francisco QZ wasn't always bad. . . it started out relatively okay, but more people just kept coming, and for some reason they handled it badly. I mean the center of the city was heavily fortified, and probably the safest you'd find on the west coast. . . but you had to get in there, first. Most people lived on the outskirts, and into the surrounding Bay Area. . . FEDRA still had some control. There was a fence for infected all the way across the Bay bridge, but it became the number 1 breeding ground for crime and squalor. . . and resistance. People were starving, poor, and angry, and looking for someone to blame."

"Recipe for disaster," Tess mutters, and you nod, swallowing hard.

"They ignored the Fireflies for a long time, they just let them do their thing, it was all mostly non-violent. I guess we got lucky, because they allowed my dad to run this little store right on the outskirts of the inner city. . . he used to let the Fireflies use the storefront to move goods easily in and out of the zone and the suburbs without treading on FEDRA's toes."

"Your dad was a firefly?" Tess interjects, one of eyebrows raised, but you can't decipher whether she looks impressed by or dismissive of the fact.

"No," you say, pointedly, "He believed in the cause, definitely. . . but he had us. . . he couldn't commit to it like others."

"Touching," Joel mutters, and your eyes deliver a stinging glare as you regard him, before taking another breath and looking away.

"The first time the Fireflies took a more radicalized approach to their resistance, I remember I was in the store. . . I would help my dad, and the FEDRA facility two blocks down got blown up by a car bomb from the street. . . 14 soldiers died, all teenagers that were training at the academy they had there."

"Jesus," Joel lets out a sour breath, shaking his head as he looks away again for a second, eyes on the abandoned church.

"I remember my dad arguing with some guys on our doorstep that night. . . the SF Fireflies had had a change of leadership," you explain, and Joel notices the way you wring your hands nervously as you tell them, his own arms crossed as he regards you. "He refused to help them any longer and they weren't pleased. . .they tried to threaten him but he wouldn't give in. I guess someone overheard the conversation in the street because when I got back from school the next day, he'd been arrested–" your voice stalls in your throat for a second and Joel watches as you swallow, hard, before you continue, "They hung him in the square, for everyone to see. . . I didn't find out until I walked past him on my way home from school."

The silence that follows is heavy, and as you look down at your fiddling hands in your lap, Joel and Tess exchange a shocked look.

"I'm sorry," Tess offers after a second, and you nod. Even though you aren't looking at them, Joel watches as you swallow hard, your eyes blinking furiously, before you take a deep breath and look back up.

"Yeah, well–" you clear your throat again, offering a bitter half-smile, "I guess everyone's got a shitty story."

"What happened after that?" Joel asks, and you shrug.

"My mom enrolled me in the FEDRA academy a few months after that. . . I would spend weekends at home to see them, but most of the time, I was there. . . it's where I met Sam."

"Them?" Tess asks, and her tone is surprisingly gentle, and she watches as you swallow hard.

"Yeah, I had a little sister," you explain, nodding, "My mom was pregnant when the outbreak happened, and Grace was born a couple of months after outbreak day. . . she was 6 years old when my dad died."

"Are they here? In Boston?" Tess asks, and the minute you look at her, and she sees the pain in your eyes as you shake your head, she wishes she'd never asked.

"No, uh–. . . Gracie died of typhoid fever the next year, and my mom hung herself a few months after that– a couple of days after I turned sixteen."

Another silence follows as your purse your lips awkwardly, your eyes swimming with grief as your fingers pick at each other. Joel feels a familiar tightness in his chest; he wasn’t necessarily surprised you’d been through what could only be described as a pile of shit, but hearing it still stirred uneasy feelings for him as he thinks about his own loss.

If Sarah had been alive, she would’ve undoubtedly told him to be nicer to you.

Finally, Tess breaks the silence again.

"Why'd you come out here?" Tess asks, and you shrug. Joel watches as you blink furiously a couple of times, but when you clear your throat and look back up at them, he can still see the tears lingering in the corners of your eyes.

"Furthest away I could get," you admit, taking another breath, "The group of fireflies who took over San Francisco, they were out for blood. . . they hung as many FEDRA soldiers as they could get their hands on, young and old, and they didn't care who you were."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tess breathes, and you nod.

"I hadn't worked for FEDRA for a while by that point, but–" you voice quiets in your throat as you press your lips together, "Let's just say I wasn't very popular."

"How'd you two get out of here?" Tess asks, and your eyes fall on Sam again.

"We managed to drive a truck up to Seattle, but they were having their own problems. . . we got separated in the mess of it all. . . Samuel managed to get out in a fleeing FEDRA convoy, and they relocated here. . . I walked."

"You what?" Joel lets out before he can stop himself, making no effort to hide the shock in his voice, "You walked? You walked from Seattle to Boston?"

You shrug as you look between him and Tess. "Where the fuck was I gonna go otherwise? We'd agreed on Boston months before that. . . we'd heard it was better here."

Joel lets out a scoff, shaking his head. "That makes no fucking sense. . . How are you even alive?"

You shrug. "How is anyone alive? We're in the fucking apocalypse, dude. . . I guess my spite got me far."

"That's a lot of fucking spite to go on," Tess says, raising a single eyebrow disbelievingly, "How long did it take you?"

"To Boston? About two months, give or take," you tell her, and Joel lets out another scoff, shaking his head as his gaze rolls over the crowd again, but you ignore him, "Got lucky and found a bike somewhere on the border with Canada. . . cut the time in half."

An impressed expression crosses into Tess' eyes, and when you look to your side, Joel is frowning at you again, and you can tell from his eyes that he can't decide whether or not to believe your outrageous story.

"Look, believe whatever the fuck you want, but that's the honest to god truth," you say with a sigh, before getting to your feet as your eyes go from Sam back to Joel and Tess as you wipe your hands on your jeans uneasily,, “Do you need me here? Cause frankly I smell like shit and I need a shower.”

Even to you, it sounds like a clear lie.

Tess disguises her surprise well, but Joel can read her face because it mirrors his feelings. The unease in your face and voice at talking about your past is intriguing, and Joel can’t shake the feeling that hadn’t been the whole story.

“As long as you’re back for the actual pick up,” she says, and you nod your head, “Cause I gotta go at 16:30, and if I leave Joel to it, the dude’s going to end up with two less teeth than he started rather than with a barrel of fertilizer.”

You try to bite back the small smile that grows on your lips, but you don’t hide it well as Joel scowls at Tess.

“Don’t deal in anger management meds, huh?” you ask, an ounce of your earlier cheekiness returning as you look at Tess, who snorts.

“My life would be easier,” she comments, and you actually chuckle as you step away.

“You two are real fuckin’ funny,” he says, his voice a deep but sarcastic growl, and you give Joel a furtive glance over your shoulder.

“All in good fun,” you shoot back, “See you later.”

With that, you flounce off and down the street, fingers tapping nervously against your thigh as you start weaving through the people.

The minute you’re out of earshot, Tess heaves a breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Joel nods along with an agreeing hum, eyes meeting her stormy ones.

“She can’t be a whole lot older than–”

“27,” Joel says quietly, clearing his throat as he looks at his feet for a second, not wanting to meet Tess’ intense stare, “She’d be two years younger.”

The silence that follows is heavy, before Tess scoffs and shakes her head.

“At 27 I was fucking my way through Detroit city,” she says with a raise of her eyebrows, “Not fighting for my life.”

Joel makes a face. “Thanks for the information.”

“What?” Tess asks, raising a single eyebrow as she looks at him, “You’re not a prude, Joel, so don’t act like one.”

Joel’s eyes shoot her a warning look. Not an acceptable topic of conversation right now.

Tess says nothing more, only the remnants of a cocky smile on her lips as she heaves a sigh, before her eyes zero back in on Sam.

“What’s their deal?” she asks, practically squinting at him, “Are they together?”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, shaking his head as he looks at Sam across the street. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so, or you don’t want so?” Tess asks him, and Joel can feel her eyes boring into the side of his face as he ignores her comment.

“He invited her in one night, she said no.”

Tess makes a face, sucking some air between her teeth. “Ouch.”

Joel nods and makes an agreeing hum, before he tears his eyes away from Sam and back to Tess with his usual, indecipherable stare. Her gaze is equally difficult to read as she stares right back at him, but says nothing before she looks away again with a breath.

Eventually, Tess leaves for her job. Joel stands in the same spot, occasionally stretching out or sitting on the little wall when his back starts to protest too loudly, eyes trained on the church and occasionally going back and forth to Sam. He knows the soldier is watching him, too, but Joel doesn’t mind, expression unchanged and as surly as ever.

You come back just after darkness has fallen, when the FEDRA checkpoint has had its last shift rotation and the people of the QZ have started retiring to their homes in time for curfew.

“Have you not moved?” you ask Joel as you approach him, and it takes almost all of his willpower not to jump in surprise. He doesn't know how you'd snuck up on him that way, and makes a mental note to keep an eye out for you doing it in the future.

Joel doesn’t answer you, just letting out a noncommittal grunt that makes you roll your eyes.

“You’re not really a man of many words, are you?” you ask him, sounding bemused, and Joel gives you a look.

“Trust me, I’ve got plenty of words for you,” he tells you, and your eyebrows raise as you put a mocking hand over your chest.

“Still angry with me for fixing your watch? And solving your supply problem?” you ask him, batting your eyelashes.

“I never asked for you to fix my watch, sweetheart,” he replies in an aggravated tone.

Your lips plump ever so slightly into a mocking pout. “You’re hurting my feelings here, Joel.”

Joel lets out a grunt. “Thank god I don’t give a damn about whose feelings I’m hurting.”

“Taking your role as bitter middle-aged criminal very seriously, I can see,” you say with a snort, and Joel shoots you a glare, but you aren’t looking at him anymore.

Your eyebrows knit together as you look at something, before your teasing expression falls away and it becomes guarded. “That your guy?”

Joel turns to watch Peter approaching them from the end of the dark street. His lips are twitched into that same smile that gave Joel the creeps the first time he met him. He gives Joel a nod, and behind him, two young-looking guys come out of the alley, too.

Joel is immediately on edge; the unnerving smile, the rifle one of the guys is wearing, coupled with the way all three men looked at you, sets him on high alert.

“Hello there, Joel.”

There’s a small crease in your brow at the tone of his voice as you come to stand level with Joel, who nods at the man. His whole body is tense as he stands as straight as he can, eyes never leaving Peter. He wonders whether you’ve noticed the change in the air yet, but he doesn’t want to stick around long enough for you to figure it out.

“We’ve got your fertilizer,” he grunts, nodding towards the church, and an impressed expression crosses Peter’s face. Then, he looks at one of the guys standing by his side, motioning with his head. The guy stalks off towards the abandoned church, as Peter looks back at you.

“I gotta say I’m impressed, shit’s been real hard to get my hands on. . . didn’t think you’d have it in you,” Peter muses, before his eyes move from Joel to you, “Maybe it has something to do with this lovely lady, hm?”

Joel doesn’t have to look at you to feel the shift in your demeanor as you stand next to him, and he watches your shoulders square from his peripheral and you give Peter a cold smile.

“You’re smooth,” you remark, your tone tinged with sarcasm, “What do you need all this fertilizer for?”

Peter’s smile becomes icy.

“Putting your nose where it doesn’t belong gets people killed around here, honey,” he says, Joel feels something stir in his stomach at the sound of the nickname and the implicit threat, “But if you’re done asking questions, you're welcome to come with us for a drink. . . promise we’ll show you a real nice time.”

Joel feels his fists balling up, and out of the corner of your eyes, you notice his shoulders tensing even more.

“I’ll pass,” you say, almost immediately, raising a single unimpressed eyebrow, “As. . . appealing as that sounds.”

Peter lets out a hum, shrugging his shoulders. “Your loss, honey.”

Joel still doesn’t love the look in his eyes as they linger on you, running down your figure.

At that moment, the man he’d sent to check on the merchandise comes back, giving a curt nod. “It’s all there.”

“Great,” Peter says through a breath, before he pulls out another wad of ration cards tied together by some string. He tosses them at Joel. “That’s the rest of it.”

Joel gives another silent nod, but he doesn’t check the ration cards, eyes instead trained steadfastly on Peter as he looks back at you, not wanting to take his eyes off this fucker for even a minute. Again, the twinkle in the guy’s eye gives Joel the creeps.

“You got a home I can walk you to?” Peter tries again, but as you open your mouth to reply, Joel loses his cool.

“She’s fine where she is,” he snaps, his voice steady but not any less threatening as he glares at Peter, who puts up his hands defensively.

“Didn’t mean to tread on anyone’s toes,” he says in a nonchalant voice, calculating gaze moving between you and Joel, “Ain’t she a little young for you?”

“That’s none of your business,” you snap at him, and you’re starting to sound more annoyed by the minute.

“Let’s go,” Joel lets out in a low voice, and to your surprise, you feel his hand close around your forearm. It’s surprisingly gentle as he pulls you back, before showing Peter his back.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Peter calls after both of you, but Joel pays him no heed as he pulls you down the street with a hasty walk.

“Dude,” you say when they’re out of earshot, shivering slightly as you pull your arm out of Joel's grip, “What is with that guy? He’s fucking creepy.”

Joel gives an agreeing hum, nodding as he peers over his shoulder. “He’s definitely got an unnerving gaze.”

“Understatement of the goddamn century,” you snort, before you frown as Joel follows you when you take a left in the alley towards your apartment. "What are you doing? You live the other way.”

Joel peers over his shoulder again. “Walking you home.”

You raise a single eyebrow. “I’m not helpless, Joel. . . I can walk myself home.”

“I never said you were, trust me,” Joel says with a snort, remembering the press of your blade against his stomach like it was just yesterday, “But something tells me Ted Bundy's starving twin back there doesn’t react very well to being told no, and I don’t need your sudden unexplained disappearance on my conscience.”

It takes a significant amount of your willpower not to say anything teasing, instead nodding. “Thanks.”

You walk mostly in silence, but when you arrive at your street, you see that somebody is leaning against the building, arms crossed and clearly waiting. It’s Sam.

“You’re a popular girl tonight,” Joel notes with a raise of his eyebrows as he slows down slightly, and you let out a small snort.

“It has to do with my irresistible charm,” you tell him jokingly, raising your arms, “Half-dead and struggling to make ends meet. . . it’s the new sex.”

You watch with some satisfaction as the corner’s of Joel’s mouth twitch slightly into what you can only assume would be a smile, before he stops completely, eyeing Sam.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, giving you a look you can’t decipher, “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You give a small nod, suddenly feeling a little awkward as you’re overcome with an urge to bid him goodbye in some way, but you don’t know how. Instead, you keep your hands by your side, swinging them awkwardly as you look back at Sam.

“You know where to find me,” you say with a small chuckle, before heaving a breath, “Night, Joel.”

Joel says nothing, just nods once at you, before he turns on his heel and disappears down the street, darkness swallowing him up.

taglist:

apart from those of you who explicitly asked to be added, i also took the liberty of tagging some of you that showed interest in more parts (if you do not want to be tagged, please please let me know, in which case i apologize in advance for doing so!)

@tanushreeg27 @user1112223334449890171 @frecklefacelm @samarav @alyssiamarierenee @platinumblondeedition @huntersandpie @lizlil @lumpypoll @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @phryne-fish @ponyboys-sunsets

as usual, replies, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us

55 notes · View notes

sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

Note

Hello, Sleppy! There is one thing I have always wanted to know about Jade but did not dare ask. Tell me, please, what happened to Jade and Simon in the original CoD universe? I saw a sketch of crying Jade, was it her reaction to Simon's death or in your universe he managed to survive? P.S. - I am sorry if you do not like this question at all.

Okay so since I rarely post about the OG!MW2 anymore, I'm just gonna reveal the whole plot to you guys (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)

Be ready cuz this is kinda long - these are the canon divergence that I constructed in the events that my OC's are inserted into the OG!MW2 plot.

So, Jade was actually sent by the MI6 to track down what actually happened that made Russia attack US out of nowhere. Because that Zakhaev Airport massacre sounded and looked FISHY as HECK. Being the MI6 she was, Jade had to report regularly to her handler in MI6 (141 didn’t know this. It’s her personal gig). She met Soap Ghost and Roach there, but her first meeting with Ghost was bad and blab la blaaa SHE OPENED GHOST'S MASK. She also met Ellie (another OC I had for Gaz who’s a medical corps leader in 141. Gaz died in the OG!MW, she was still saddened but she’s very glad to have Jade in the base).

There’s also another OC that I have named Bara. He’s a lone Indonesian Denjaka sniper lieutenant that got sent by the country to capture an Indo defector among Makarov’s cause. Because of political reasons, he’s not a 141. Bara’s like an ally that pop out sometime somewhere like a spirit. 141 themselves were still very suspicious of him, but when Bara saved Meat and Royce in Rio, he gained their trust, and 141 would help him find the defector as Bara would help them on their missions.

Now, sometime in the middle, Jade was captured by Makarov and got tortured by him. Jade intentionally didn’t escape and held the pain in to gain some info herself from anyone inside the room or from Makarov himself. And that’s where the (How about you check who you surround yourself with) and Jade’s gears started turning inside her brain. She released herself and ran amok around Mak’s place, and found some data about “anonymous source” that said there’ s mole among Makarov’s group in the massacre (we know it is Joseph Allen) and she SENT THAT STRAIGHT to MI6. Ghost and the boys found the compound and rescued a badly injured Jade.

So like, along the story, Jade found bits and pieces, put two and two together, and by the end, Jade’s 90% sure that Shepherd’s onto something shitty.

NOW HERE’S THE CANON DIVERGENCE IN LOOSE ENDS MISSION.

As Jade, Roach, and Ghost went to Makarov’s base at the Georgian-Russian border, Jade actually took the time to read the posts, notes, and all the info that were sticked to the boards, tables, and walls. In fact, as Ghost and Roach was busy fighting off Makarov’s goons, Jade READ that shit (because at that point she didn’t trust Shepherd AT ALL).

And you guessed it, she found out that Shepherd is the mastermind behind every damn thing.

So when Roach transferred the data to the DSM, she did her magic and unbeknownst to everyone, she SENT ALL the proof to MI6 on the spot.

Jade then told Ghost and Roach about everything, and they did NOT trust Shepherd anymore. So when the general told them to go the fields, they declined and decided to hold the fort inside the house. Shepherd knew something was wrong, so when he kept pressing the three to get out of the house, but again, the three didn’t oblige, the general and the shadows decided to finally go to the house.

Shepherd and the Shadows cleared the whole area from enemies and tried to find Ghost, Roach, Jade,and the others in the house. One by one, the SC people got killed with stealth. Things led to another, and chaos ensued inside the house. Shepherd could’ve burnt down the house with the 141 in it, but Shepherd’s paranoid that Jade had done something, and he NEEDED that DSM.

Shootout happened, and Jade got one of the SC as a shield with a gun to his head. Shepherd told Jade to give him the DSM, and convo happened, Shepherd finally revealed his motives. And now he had to get rid of the three of them.

AND THEN, MI6 contacted Jade, saying that the proof about Shepherd’s doing had gone public. The whole thing was his doing all long, and now the world had turned all their forces towards finding Shepherd. Russia, US, now began their search on Shepherd! WOOHOO

Panicked, Shepherd yelled at SC as reinforcements came, along with Price and Soap who came straight fom Kazakhstan to the place, Meat and Royce (who survived Rio), Archer and Toad, everyone came to help.

CLIMAX ENSUED, and Ghost got shot twice protecting Jade from Shepherd’s bullets.

As Jade held Ghost on her arms, Price and Soap, with Nikolai’s help, chased Shepherd who’s desperately tried to escape and killed him. Minus the Soap getting stabbed.

Don’t worry, Ghost survived because ELLIE WILL NOT let him leave Jade like Gaz left her too fast. So Ghost survived WOOHOOO.

The Jade crying sketch was, indeed, a cry of relief as Ellie told her that Ghost was going to be fine (❁´◡`❁). She wore Ghost's jacket to comfort herself during the times Ghost was unconscious, and this sketch came out!

Everybody lives, no WW3, no MW3. This is REAL MOVIE ASS SHIT but it’s what’s in my mind!

I have the whole ass fic about the post-Loose Ends angst at the ready if y'all want it.

#if the demand is high I'll consider posting the post-Loose Ends fic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #sleepy answers #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost x jade #call of duty canon divergence #sleepy's thoughts #sleepy's OG!MW2 plot

157 notes · View notes

tassodelmiele · 16 days

Text

Noisy little mess

Hi cutie!

I've, incredibly, keep on writing the same fic for one time in my life, so i'm posting the second part of the first part (obviously) of the whatever i've wrote.

I like writing. It's a little difficult switch from my italian kinda writing skill to the english language.

I feel less poetic in english. More...meh. Dunno.

Anyway, we do not have that much of a smut content in here, just...talking. A lot of talking. I like dialogues.

Sorry for every incorrect grammatical things, i hope i haven't made a complete mess.

DISCLAIMERS: not that much of a smut thing, anyway is GhostxReader, arguing, terrible nicknames, gym, blame shifting, not having breakfast, recalling of behaviours that shouldn't belong to a military base but oh well.

..................................................

First part is here:

https://www.tumblr.com/tassodelmiele/746173281244151808/noisy-little-mess?source=share

..................................................

Next day, you skip breakfast.

Your ass hurts like hell, you've got bruises on your neck and it seems like you've gone through a fight with the full cast of a Jason Statam's kinda film.

You rush through all the damn base like crazy, avoiding smiles and greetings, in search for that goddamn man who has to give you explanations.

'Cause that sort of thing doesn't happen between two who barely speak at breakfast.

'Cause you may find muscles attractive, but you've never told him you like him in particular.

'Cause he almost ravaged you, without even saying "goodnight".

And 'cause you've liked it. But that's not necessarily to be known.

You're about to go straight to the training camp (you've seen Soap nearby, and he's Ghost's shadow), when the wanted finds the detective: a door suddenly opens, and you bump into his goddamn big chest, almost drowning your nose in that rock solid-muscle softness pile.

Ghost looks at you like he's just stepped on a candy wrapper. You open your mouth, ready to yell:

«ok, now you're going to tell me, sir, what in the actual fu-»

Then, Price gets out of the office too. And your face blushes with the brightest red.

«…sorry»

«'s nothing. We've finished»

It seems like Ghost's trying to make you comfortable, and that just gets on your nerves. You look at the captain walking away, and before having the opportunity to speak again, the lieutenant has grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you in his office.

You do your best not to trip over your feet, almost making a pirouette to face him as he closes the door. You open your mouth, prepare your lungs to yell like a fucking eagle…and he stops you, cupping your face with all of the grace he's capable of, looking at you through his goddamn scary skull mask and spells:

«I'm sorry»

And your brain goes blank.

You squeeze your eyes; you weren't ready for this. For a scold; for a joke, for him to make fun of you, for you to break his terrible per holder on his face…but not for this.

«…what?»

«I'm sorry. Fucking sorry, ok?»

«Yeah, yeah» you scroll his hands away from your face. «I'm sorry too for having my ass burnt and my fucking neck disassembled, that's not the point»

«I was just saying-»

«You were saying nothing»

«If you-»

«Sorry for what? For your kinks, or your lack of asking consent? Go on, i'm listen-»

And he ends up squeezing your face in his hand, glaring at you while you just stay still with your cheeks pressed together and your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow.

He sigh.

«You've caught me off guard»

You muffle, widening your eyes, about to try to say something but his grips tighten a little.

«Let me fucking finish! Bloody hell, you weren't so noisy yesterday! My god…look, 's not a great time to restrain instinct, ok? I'm not saying that you've…awakened something. You're not my type, anyway»

You start to move again in his grip, trying to punch him, but it's so easy for him to stop you.

«I just want to apologize 'cause i've acted by instinct, and is no good. And 'cause I've hurt you, of course»

He stares at you for five seconds before releasing his grip, and the first thing you say is:

«…not your type? Seriously?»

His eyes widen under the mask.

«You…is this really what you're interested in? Out of everything I've told you?»

«You haven't told me that much»

«What the hell-»

«And you're lucky i've liked it, otherwise i would have smash the whole set of weight on your face»

«Yeah, Yeah, sure, a gnome like you»

«I'm a gnome in berserk armor»

«Still a gnome»

«Fight me»

«I'm not wasting my time in a prison for your dead body»

«...weak»

«…don't you dare, rookie»

«Rookie a pair of nuts»

«Watch you fucking mouth»

«I can't do it, there's no mirror in here»

«…ok, maybe your murder is worth a life in prison»

«You're eating away your guts just 'cause i'm having the final say»

«No, but i'm going to eat your guts anytime soon»

«Try me! Fight that fucking gnome! Then, you're gonna make better apologies»

«My apologies were flawless»

«You said i'm not your type! After…after making a mess out of me!»

«I've said, if you would have listen, that I was lead by my goddamn instinct»

«Yeah, and since when instinct tells you to ravage alone girls in the gym?»

«Since when i've heard you-»

He suddenly stops. Your mouth is still open, ready to talk back, when he starts to push you by the shoulder in order to get you out of his office immediately.

«Time is finished» he says as he tries to get rid of your presence.

But you're not ok with him.

«Nonononono, don't you even-»

«I've told you everything i had to»

«Fuck your excuses! You didn't even make me come!»

That wasn't a challenge. But somehow Ghost's brain classified it as such.

And the same night, in the gym, different machines…you spot him looking at you.

And your panties get instantly wet.

«No» you suddenly say. He gets closer.

«"No" what?»

«No. I won't»

«What?»

«Don't tease, you know "what"»

He doesn't listen to you, and starts a whole different topic:

«Wanna know something fun, kitty?»

«Can you find another nickname, please?»

Ghost's eyes make a turn under the eyelids, as he repeats: «Wanna know something fun, gnome?»

You make a pout, and he goes on:

«you've been the only one with enough guts to yell at me since fucking forever»

«Well, you've been the only one to touch my panties since…fucking forever. We're fair»

«…you mean it?»

«What?»

«No boyfriend? No sex? Never?»

«Never. Don't make fun of me»

«Why should i?»

«Dunno. An almost thirty years old is suppose to have made something in her life»

«You're working. And living. That's enough»

You're about to grab a weight, but you leave it there, looking at Ghost through the mirror.

«…oh»

He raises an eyebrow.

«…oh? That's the most sensible thought you've got?»

«It's just…i've thought…well…»

«What? What was that little brain of your thinking?»

Your face blush like hell as he comes closer, every step of him is a skipped heartbeat for you.

«I-i've just…i've thought that someone like you may be more…demanding?»

«You don't know me» he towers you in all of his highs «little gnome. 'S dangerous making assumptions on your enemy without collecting intel, don't ya know?»

«You're not an enemy». You swallow, finding yourself hesitate. «…i believe»

«You don't seem so sure about it»

And then he gives you the most threatening, close up encounter with his mask, leaning on you like an eagle on a mouse.

«How come, little gnome?»

You swallow. Than you remember he's your fucking lieutenant, and you're in the base gym, and there shouldn't be nothing to worry about, really. And you feel like an idiot, blushing and lowering your eyes. You decide to use his weapons against him:

«…it's dangerous making assumptions on your allies without collecting intel»

And he stares at you, seeming happy with your answer.

«You do are a brat, don't you?»

«I'm the cutest rookie in the entire base»

«Someone's going to make ya eat that goddamn tongue of you»

«They're just jealous»

«'s not like that»

«…No? Than w-»

«You can't talk back to your superior. You'll end up getting in trouble»

You instantly blush, blowing your cheeks.

«I've never-»

«You're doing it right now»

You blush more, become as red as the goddamn Snow White's apple. Your mouth is finally shutted, and he seems proud of his work. You try to make a step back, gaining some distance between you and his massive body…but he follows you. He follows you and he gets closer, trapping you between him and the weights rack.

«I…don't think i like brats that much»

Ghost is not touching you, but somehow you shiver under his voice as he's drilling your ears.

«I like you more with your little mouth shut»

The last word is perfectly underlined by his voice; another shiver down your spine, and you try to fill the silence to not explode under his presence:

«I'm afraid i'm not that good at staying silent, sir»

And he grabs you by the cheeks, squeezing them in one hand without effort, leaning on you as his gaze catches your red face:

«You did a great job yesterday, kitty»

And you melt in your panties. You do it with a little bit of regret just 'cause you'd rather endure a little bit more. You're about to say something, even if you know that as soon as you open your mouth the only thing that'll come out is a moan, and…

He releases you, so suddenly you've to concentrate not to lose balance, stumbling on your feet. He grabs a weight, announcing dramatically:

«But i've seen you've got your mouth fucking open the 90% of the time. That's why you're not my type, little gnome»

«But…you've searched for me»

He stops, holding the weights silently; he's not looking at you, but you know he's waiting for you to keep on with the speech. You swallow again, your throat is almost dry now.

«I know you've heard me. That night. You've heard me…touching. And-»

«So what? You were loud»

«Not that much- anyway, you've come in the gym just for me, i know it»

«No way»

«None come to the gym that late»

«But you were there»

«I'd a busy day- but that's not the point! I wasn't even watching you!»

He hiss a: «liar» in the middle of a curl. You cross your arms.

«…ok. Ok, MAYBE i was, but just for one goddamn sec-»

«So you do like me»

«FOR GODDAMN-»

You shut your mouth, biting your lips before saying something that could cost you way worse than a scolding by your superior. Your feet stomp till the biggest weights you can lift, and you start your rdl sets, knowing you're gonna hurt your back.

But he's looking. He's looking through the mirrors (too many goddamn mirrors in this gym) and it hurts your pride how he's acting like he doesn't care that much. So you take a deep breath, and while resting after the first set you spit it out:

«So you've touched me just 'cause you've felt like discharging some frustration?»

His arms suddenly stop moving. He turns his gaze at you, watching you directly this time, as you keep on:

«'cause, you know, since i'm not your type i can't find other reasons why you should've come to do those things. My appearance doesn't turn you on, so you've just found the first random person to use»

You lift the weights again, ready to release your bomb:

«So childish. It's not that mature for someone in your position»

You have no time to get aware of him who's just thrown his weights on the floor, reached you in two big steps, and now he's taking your weights from your hands like they're light butterflies, also throwing them on the floor.

He's towering you again, fists clench and hazel eyes on you.

«…it's your fault»

Your eyes widen. You've expected something different.

«Uhm…what?»

«That's why my apologies were good enough for you. 'S just your fault»

«What the hell of a fault did i-»

«You did it on purpose. Those…those fucking sounds of yours, your bloody behave, everything. Goddamn. Everything»

«How?? How could-»

«I don't know, you bloody witch!»

«So learn to know yourself better!»

«Maybe you could behave like a normal human being!»

«I was!»

«Liar. Bloody liar, you've spent the most of the time jerking on every fucking chair you were touching»

«You're hallucinating»

«And you've walked with closed eyes if ya didn't even notice what the hell you were doing»

«I'm not some animal in heat!»

«You looked so!»

«You could've just asked me to stop instead of wetting your hands in my panties!»

«I-»

This is his time to bite his lips, choking words behind the mask. He stares at you, and you return the glare, arms crossed and ice cold eyes on him, pretending not to feel the wetness in your underwear.

He sighs.

«I could crush you with my bare hands»

You stay still, eyes wide open, hands buried in your sweatshirt, asking yourself why the hell does he seem so embarrassed out of nowhere. Ghost sighs again, louder, blowing hot air away as if he's trying to discharge his lungs from something heavy.

«It's been days you walk everywhere with those goddamn swallowed eyes of yours, adjusting your panties under the uniform, trembling at the tiniest touch…what the hell did you expect? To not be noticed? You, a little whimpering knot tied on itself?»

Your mind gets blind for a second.

You listen with your eyelid twitching. It is…unreal. He's not describing you, that's what you try to get in your brain, convincing yourself that you've not behaved as he's saying.

You start to mutter through your teeth: «…but…no, no way, i'm not that-»

«Shameless? Dunno, have you ever tried looking at your fucking face in a mirror?»

«I-»

«Look little one, if you don't believe me, just ask someone else. Everyone have noticed»

«But-»

«'s not that i'm scolding you 'cause of your hormones. I'm just explaining myself»

«You…you're not explaining shit!»

«I am»

And he leaves you like this, curled on yourself, insecure and embarrassed. He turn on his heels, sending you a few last words:

«Ask the others 'bout it. The answer will surprise you»

......................................

#fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #sequel of a previous chapter #there is not that much of a smut content in here maybe you should check the previous chapter for more #cod fanfic #cod fic #task force 141 #not accurate military men #i'm having too much fun writing dialogues please help #gnome is a better nickname #Is so funny writing hashtags on tumblr

28 notes · View notes

ameagrice · 1 year

Text

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter twenty-two | here we go again

“To be honest, I think someone should just toss this woman out a window, now. Her hair’s past the point of conditioning.”

Percy looked at you ludicrously. “She’s right here.”

You’d been volunteered to take the Oracle back up to the Big House with Percy. Up close, the creepy feelings intensified. You’d have thought that after making her way down to the creek she’d have had the decency to go back on her own. But no. And here you were, gasping for breath as you walked up the stairs backwards.

“Stop pushing so much,” you grunted, heels hitting the steps. “I’m gonna lose my balance.”

“Well my arms hurt, so hurry up.”

“Men have no patience,” you grumbled. Percy shot a look at you. “You don’t! My dad’s the same. Wants things doing instantly and quickly when it just isn’t realistic.”

Percy groaned. “Seriously, B, my arms are about to drop off, here.”

“If you push me anymore I’m gonna fall and get a concussion. Or amnesia. You know how easy it is to get amnesia? At least seventy percent of people with a brain injury get it.”

“Did you eat a textbook for breakfast?” He teased.

“Did you eat some nerve?”

“You’re quick today.”

“As opposed to every other day?” A smile made its way to the corner of your mouth. This kind of bantering with Percy always improved your mood.

“Come on,” he said, ducking his head for a second. “Let’s just get her upstairs. She smells of mothballs.”

“That’ll be the decay.”

“You’re disgusting.”

After Percy hit her head off the wall—and you breathed in the dust—you made it upstairs.

You set the Oracle down in her place by the window. Up here, now she was frozen again in place, you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry. You’d hate to be stuck up here like this, only wanted when someone needed something. It wasn’t a very fair fate.

Percy’s footfall sounded on the wooden floor. Dust particles floated in the light streaming in. On tables and shelves, all topped with thick dust, trophies, medals, pictures and weapons lay. One photograph in a worn, brown frame held an image of two girls smiling with their arms around one another’s shoulders, wearing war face paint, clothes reminiscent of the seventies. You picked it up and turned it over. The date read ‘73, last day of summer. A longsword lay on a bracket on the wall, engraved with words too dusty to see.

“What have you found?” You lifted your head. Percy was crouching, sifting through a box on the floor.

He dropped something heavy-sounding back in to the box. “Just junk. Let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the heebies.”

For good measure, just in case she had anything left to say, you clicked your fingers in front of the Oracle’s face. She didn’t even flinch.

“Sure. I’ve got a feeling she won’t be saying anything for a while.”

Percy slammed shut the attic door as you descended the stairs, waiting at the bottom.

“Well,” you said, as he started down. “Glad that’s over.”

Despite your light tone, Percy still looked bothered.

“I feel like that whole thing was for nothing,” he said, meeting you at the bottom. He shrugged his shoulders. “She skipped me and went straight to Zoe Nightshade. What will Chiron do?”

Percy lowered himself and sat on the stairs. You did the same. Over the summer, as uncomfortable as the thought made you, you’d grown a little bit in ways your stepmom said was just girl nature. It made your thigh press that little bit more against Percy’s than it might have done before the summer, and you were weirdly self-conscious about it. Barely noticeable, your stepmom told you honestly, but noticeable to you.

“I think,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “He’ll do what’s best now, and that is probably going to have to do with what Zoe was told. I think this prophecy will be his priority.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but the sound of heavy, stomping footsteps on the stairs caught both yours and Percy’s attention. The source was Thalia.

She avoided looking at Percy altogether. “Tell Percy to get his butt downstairs.”

“Why?” Percy pulled a face.

“Did he say something?” Thalia asked you. Her icy eyes were firm.

“Uh—He said why.”

“Dionysus is calling a meeting of cabin leaders to discuss the prophecy. Unfortunately that includes Percy.”

With nothing much to do while the meeting went on, you went back to your cabin. Inside, Cora—who you’d grown closer to over the months you spent at camp—was staring into space with a calculator in her hands at the table in the middle of the room. Another of your siblings, a boy named Mitchel, was doing the same thing.

“Have you guys been hypnotised?” You eyed them, walking over to your bed.

“Can’t figure out what Z is…”

The free time you had now, offered a chance to think on things that had happened so far with the both of them, and where it had gotten you now. During Percy’s quest to get the Golden Fleece last year, your only friends in camp were Travis and, to an extent, Cora. You’d grown closer to both respectably. Without Percy, you had obviously given more time to a newfound friendship in Travis.

He didn’t disappoint. If you needed a pick-me-up? Travis didn’t have to try hard to make you laugh. He didn’t push the fact that you weren’t a touchy person—granted, he’d learned the hard way after a hand on your back was shrugged away instantly. You preferred initiating any sort of physical contact—high-fives; an elbow on the shoulder—not receiving. He respected it.

You appreciated that most of all.

Over the summer, you grew closer with both of them. And Percy recounted his tales from his most recent quest with Annabeth.

Which of course meant he was closer to Annabeth afterward. Of course she cursed his name to the sisters she was closest to in the cabin. Of course you felt a little left out—it was natural, wasn’t it?

Travis would call most nights. Percy would call in the afternoon once a week, at first, and then more in the evenings, working around time zones. After a close call with a four-headed snake while out one night, Iris Messaging became the new thing.

A little too much—Percy once caught you under a mountain of bubbles in the tub with a face mask on, and always called by phone, first, after that.

“You’ve got your thinking face on.”

You looked at Cora. You hadn’t seen her climb up the bunk ladder, but she leaned over the side anyhow, hair dangling.

“Am I that much of an open book?” you lay your actual book on your stomach.

Cora hummed. She’d dyed her long hair while you were gone, a stark difference to the bleached yellow of two years ago.

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to tell you, Travis Stoll has been super loved up with you while you’ve been away in Aussie land.”

You sat up abruptly. “What?”

She grinned slyly. “I said what I said.”

“What are you talking about?”

She admired her nails, hanging upside down. “I’ll answer any questions for a dollar at a time. No more, no less.”

You looked blankly at her. “But you don’t need to pay for anything at camp. Answer the question.”

“I’ve stated my rules,” she said calmly. “Yes or no.”

“Fine! A dollar. What are you talking about?”

She grinned. “The boy’s been using up all his breath asking when you’re coming back to camp. I mean, I can’t even think of how many times he asked me the same question over and over. I think he was more worried you wouldn’t come back at all.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s loved up with me,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s a friend asking when I’ll be back.”

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “Alright,” she drawled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. We all know you’re loved up with Percy.”

You side-eyed her. “And you know that…how?”

“I see all. Know all.”

“You’re a freak.”

“We were literally born from the brain of mom. We’re both freaks.”

You hummed. “That weirds me out.”

“It weirds me out,” she raised a brow at you. “And I’ve been here for five years. Trust me, it just gets weirder.”

—

Percy didn’t turn up for dinner.

“I wonder who’s going on the quest,” you said through a mouthful of food. “Nobody’s said anything.”

Cora nodded, sitting opposite. The table was empty besides the two of you, your siblings either at schools or home for the winter. A few tables down, Nico di Angelo was sitting with Connor and Travis, audibly chatting their ears off. The Ares table only had the two boys, and Demeter’s table only had Katie.

Percy’s table was empty.

It was cold out, and the sky was barely lit, just a dull, cloudy grey. The same golden balls of light that decorated the cabins lit the dinner tables, and some kind of magic kept the warmth inside the pavilion boundaries. Even so, you’d dressed for the occasion in a thick coat and jeans. While it was like this, you missed summer more than anything. It was too quiet. Too still. The calm would have been nice had the events from the Oracle not been hanging over you. You sighed, pushing your food around your plate.

“Maybe I should go find Percy,” you said, pushing your food around your plate. “I feel bad.”

Cora groaned. “Listen, he’s a boy; they do weird things like this. He’ll turn up when he’s ready. Nothing you can do about it.”

She had a point.

When finished, and the place began to practically empty, you both stood to leave. That was when Chiron called your name.

You turned expectantly, smiling politely. His brown eyes looked tired, and worried. “Could we talk?”

—

The leopard on the wall above the fireplace ate a sausage, and you watched it with wary eyes. It didn’t matter how many times you’d been in the Big House; it didn’t fail to shock you each time.

Mr. D. was flipping through a newspaper labelled Olympus Weekly! with a bored face. Occasionally he would raise his eyebrows, but they would fall back in place soon after.

“You are aware of the meeting held this afternoon, correct?” Chiron began.

You nodded, tucked into the arm of the sofa, hands warm under your thighs.

“Then you know what it was for. We called for campers and Hunters to unite, as the Oracle said, and join one another on the quest to find Artemis.”

You nodded along, listening carefully.

Chiron’s eyes rose from the wall to meet yours. “Zoe Nightshade visited me a night ago repeating a dream she had. Except, until this meeting, she left a part out. It was a part which involved you.”

Your mouth parted. “And what…what was I doing? In her dream?”

“She saw yourself and Bianca di Angelo walking together through a yard, talking. And so, we have decided that you are to be one of the half-bloods to take part in this quest.”

The fire crackled. Mr. D. closed his newspaper to watch the exchange between yourself and Chiron. And Chiron watched you.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Mr. D. repeated. “That is all you have to say?”

“I’m not really sure what to say,” you side-eyed him. “I’ll go. I’d like to go. We can look for Annabeth too, can’t we, while we’re searching for Artemis?”

“We believe that while searching for Artemis, there’s a high chance Annabeth can be found too, yes.”

“Who else is going? Is Percy coming?”

Chiron hesitated. “We decided on yourself, Bianca, Zoe, Thalia and Grover. Percy…Percy and Thalia cannot work together. It would be a mistake to send them together.”

It should have made you happy to be wanted on a quest. It wasn’t every day that a demigod got the chance to leave camp and actually do something good and helpful. But Percy desperately wanted to go. He was desperate to look for Annabeth. And by agreeing to go, you felt like you were betraying him.

“When do we leave?”

“Early tomorrow morning.”

“When you find Artemis,” Mr. D. drawled, flicking open his newspaper again. “Tell her she’s caused a a complete and utter ruckus. She better not do this again.”

—

The walkway of the lake seemed like a good place for a goodbye.

You and Travis lay side-by-side again, like you did last night, except this time was a lot quieter. The gold balls of light filled you with not joy but melancholy, and Travis didn’t look at you.

“I didn’t want to leave and not say anything,” you mumbled. “Thought that would be mean.”

He hummed. But didn’t say anything.

There were no stars tonight.

Finally, his coat rustled, chocolate-coloured hair brushing the hood. “Just come back,” he said. “The prophecy says two might die. I don’t want that to be you.”

You shook your head. “It won’t be. I promise.”

He blinked, eyes on the sky. “Keep that promise.”

—

You stopped by Percy’s cabin on the way to yours. You were disappointed to find him not inside, bed still made and the lights off. You’d have to worry about him another time.

In your cabin, you quietly packed your bag again. Clothes, a spare pair of shoes, the essentials, and a small purse of money—both dollars and drachmas—and hoped that would be enough.

You climbed into bed, rolling over in the dark in your cold covers. Cora snored in the bunk above. The lights were out. You pulled the covers up to your chin, and was out like a light.

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @luckydragontriumph @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @mrswang17 @jessiegerl

What do we think of this one, dudes? I properly re-wrote it three times, then had to get rid of it all and start again after four tries because nothing saved. This one has been a pain in the ass.

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @luckydragontriumph @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @mrswang17 @jessiegerl

149 notes · View notes

kangen-wanshi · 1 year

Note

Hi! I really love your Kisses ft Larry, Brassius, Hassel post! Could you do how would Larry, Brassius, & Hassel confess to reader? Only if you want to!

"I'll say it!" ft Larry, Brassius, Hassel

The struggles and process of confession can be quite challenging for some individual. But how would they go through it?

Tags: separate, romantic, pining?

A/N: I'm glad you like them anon! For this one, Larry's and Brassius' are actually inspired by my recent previous post haha, I hope you like it! And sorry for the weird formating, Tumblr is hating me rn.

Larry, With a newfound confident

It's not a secret that Larry can get quite.. Shy? Timid? Quiet? When it comes to a time where he's required to speak up.

Unfortunately, this also happens during his confession.

Larry didn't really.. Plan his confession. He's stressing over the fact on how to do it, yes, but he's never really got any plan figured out.

Rika's suggestions are too flirty, Poppy's are.. Well with how sweet it is he feels like it's gonna make him feel out of touch to execute it, and anyone else just keeps telling him to just tell you straight up.

So he did just that.

It was a small dinner between the two of you. Nothing fancy, as he cooked simple dishes he learned from the internet and invited you over.

It's the most normal, simple, plain idea of 'date' that Larry can think of.

Often the darker side of his brain caught up to him and mocked him about how he's just an old bachelor that doesn't quite deserve a relationship. Especially with someone as perfect as you.

But when he fought that dark side of the brain, is actually when he boldly confessed to you.

"I love you. Truly."

It's so simple. So quick, and so quiet. You had to stop yourself before doing anything further.

Him, on the other hand, is fully aware of what he had just said. But there's no going back now. As he stares at his food, his hold on the fork and knife tighten by the seconds of your silence.

That is until you asked him to repeat himself.

When he took a deep breath, his lips trembled. Closing his eyes, he's decided that during that moment, he won't back down or sink away from his own confession.

"I love you. Will you.. be willing to be mine?"

You'd expect him to confess with his art and portray his affection through poetry with some grandeur announcement?

Brassius, Through Beautiful Accident

Think again!

Brassius is nervous. Nervous doesn't even cover the word.

Yes, he's expressive. Yes, he has admitted that you're so important to him, beyond being his beloved muse and source of inspiration. But confession? A romantic love confession? His head spins even trying to think about it.

Often he argues with himself about how he should express this feeling to you, aka confession.

He's torn between making it sentimental by giving you one of his handmade gifts, or declaring his love with well arranged heart shaped roses, or with poetry, or even with a sculptor made with love engraved within it.

Ended up not executing any of it.

His indecisiveness will be the end of him. Truthfully with how much he praises you or expresses his adoration, you already got the idea (or at the very least the slight confidence) that your feelings are actually reciprocated.

It's just the confession that came late.

So how this happens, is most likely because he just can't help himself to say the three words to you under the guise of simply complimenting you.

"Your battle was magnificent! The conjoined effort between you and your pokemon - absolutely breathtaking! I can't help but fall in love with the way you conquer the difficulty in battle!"

You were about to thanked him, had toy not caught the whisper under his breath:

".. And I suppose, I couldn't help but to fall in love with you yet again."

- Which caught both of you off-guard.

Brassius is red. His pale cheeks turned warm, as he watched you watch him with wide eyes.

He was about to laugh it off, pretend that it was a slip off and he didn't mean it that way. But with how you look at him, red tinted your cheek, and softly asking him "Really?",

Well, the truth comes forth to those who're willing to embrace it.

Let's just say that he couldn't ask for a better love confession.

By far the most normal out of the three.

Hassel, With The Classic Galar Style

Hassel has a good amount of experience in terms of having relationships. So he knows the sign when he falls for someone, and luckily, he knows how to handle himself.

Though he's not hasty. Despite his passionate nature, Hassel is patient and takes his time with doing things. Including processing his feelings, and considering yours too.

He drops subtle hints first. Offering you his jacket when the weather got particularly chilly, offering to walk you home, helping you with your work however he can, taking care of your pokemon, etc.

Surprisingly can read your reaction very well, while being subtle about it.

So he's good in that whole department.

When he's sure that you're into him as much as he is into you, he plans his next more: The Confession.

While yes, he kept his cool and he knows what he's doing, he's not immune to the Nervous.

But he got this! He got help from the new Champion of Paldea, he got help from Tyme, from Rika, he'll do fine!

So he ended up inviting you on a picnic. Just outside of Mesagoza.

A small picnic. He brought the food, even though you offered to bring some too, he insisted on treating you to this little date.

It's sweet, really. Just chatting along, watching some pokemons walk over to the two of you asking for some extras, sharing laughter and smiles.

And when the sun started to sink, he made his move.

He pulled out a basket that he's been hiding from your sight, before putting it between the two of you. Obviously you asked what it is, but he just encourages you to open the blanket inside.

And surprise surprise, it's a shiny Applin, peering up to you with an innocent tilt of head.

If you didn't know the meaning behind the Applin tradition, expect that he already explained it to you at some point prior to the date (aka one of his subtle ways of seeing how you'd react to the topic of love confession).

Either way, he offered the little guy to you with a sheepish smile, as his cheek grew red.

"I couldn't imagine a better way to explain my feelings to you. If you would accept it, accept this little friend of mine, I hope you would cherish and let him grow stronger. And if you may allow it.. I would like to be by your side to help it grow."

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #pokemon x reader #pokemon larry x reader #pokemon brassius x reader #pokemon hassel x reader #gym leader larry x reader #gym leader brassius x reader

138 notes · View notes

mygalaxypoetry · 1 year

Text

Sagau with creator but... Pt.4

You stood up from your attack and looked at the damage you made. The usual drops from the Ruin Guard was evident, but what stood out to you was the four, three, and two star drops that were evident.

The only one star that was there was a black key... weird..

Razor immediately came beside you, looking panicked , and check your hand for any injuries. You assured him that you were fine multiple times, since he looked like he was gonna cry.

"Hey! Can you guys help me? I'm kinda stuck!" A voice shouted at them.

You and Razor looked around to find the source of the sound and saw Bennett, trapped inside one of the ruin gates. Poor kid...

You two immediately went up to him and asked what happened and thanks to his very bad luck, he got locked in while getting a chest.

Razor sighed in irritation while you pulled out the black key and unlocked the iron gate, successfully letting Bennett out of the trap.

"I saw you how you dealt with that Ruin guard. It was awesome! Oh, where are my manners? My names Bennett, a member of Benny's adventure team!" He greeted you.

"The names [Name] [L/n], nice to meet you Bennett!" You stuck out your hand for him to shake.

"Likewise [Name]!" He shook your hand.

In almost an instant, it felt like something warm entered your body. Not to the point where your on fire, thankfully (like the creator can even get hurt), but enough for you to notice.

Your hands started to burn up a bit, in which Bennett let go of your hand quickly.

"Ow! Ow, that's hot..." he mumbled.

"Sorry! Sorry, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine! My hand just felt a little hot when I held your hand.." he assured you, but it left you confuse.

You looked at your hand and tried to do that again, in which your hand started to glow yellow and released an explosion.

. . .

'What the fu-'

"New power unlocked: explosion!"

Okay... NOW you want to go inside Mondstat...

Razor, the poor baby, sulked a bit when he already had two pyro extroverts as his friends.

Bennett on the other hand was amazed about how you did that. Asking questions on why you didn't do it in the first place and how you got it.

You, confused af, didn't know how to answer that question!

"Wait a minute.... you feel awfully familiar.... you kinda remind me of someone..."

It only took a minute for him to realize that, you're the creator! One of, if not the almighty ruler of Teyvat. He started bowing and giving thank yous for making him join your adventure team.

Now you were REALLY confused. Brain shortcurciting and almost passed out on floor, if Razor didn't catch you on time.

Razor led you to the foot of the Monstat bridge, Bennett apologizing as they go. He didn't mean to overwhelm you with too much information and questions.

"Honestly, I don't know myself... I just got this power when I shook your hand..." that was all you know.

You three strolled up to Mondstat, your mush of a brain not minding the shocked looks the people were giving you.

All you wanted was to go in an inn and rest. Maybe have some of Barbara's healing magic on the side.

Razor led you straight to the cathedral, seeing how you were exhausted and probably injured.

He called out to Barbara, who thought Bennett had another accident and needed her assistance again.

That thought was completely thrown out the window when she saw you in Razor's arms, looking a bit pale.

She rushed you to a rest room where you laid down on a bed and drifted of to dreamland, completely leaving Barbara to heal your wounds.

----

You had a long day, you deserved it!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #creator au #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral character #my hero academia #bnha #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

229 notes · View notes

passing-the-cis-test · 2 months

Text

Introduction!

Hi everyone! I'd like go make a few well known points on this blog, such as its purpose, what it includes/will eventually, rules, and a little bit about myself.

Origins/About the Admin

The admin uses he/him pronouns and will use the online alias of Red.

This account was born from a conversation between a good friend of mine and I. I, a trans boy, have had to do so much digging and so much research, discreet things that transphobic parents won't approve of, and dove through so many loopholes that made my journey through gender dsyphoria and discovering my identity so much easier but so much harder at the same time.

I thought that if I used all that I had gathered and put it all on one platform, specifically focusing on that one thing alone, it would give other people out there what I didn't have. A bit of ease through what is already such a tough journey.

JUST TO CLARIFY!!:

This blog is safe for all umbrellas of queer or straight origin.

This blog is safe for everyone.

This blog is NOT trying to "convert" people. The "transgender agenda" that transphobes seem to stamp all of us with is nothing more than wanting to be ourselves and feel comfortable as who we are.

If you are uncomfortable with this? Please, feel free to leave. I never asked for transphobes here and I certainly don't want them to stay.

This blog WILL be providing tips and tricks for all the handsome young boys and demiboys, beautiful little ladies and demiladies, gorgeous genderfluids, incredible enbies, and all of you wonderful somewhere-in-betweens!

Just what are these tips and tricks?

Tips and tricks will include how to pass as what society deems feminine or masculine.

I do not judge if you know you are a boy and want to be feminine, I do not judge if you know you are a girl and want to be masculine.

This is not meant to enforce society's ideals of the gender separated stereotypes, but rather showing you what those are and helping you present when in an unsafe space or an unaccepting space.

But what about asks and messages?

Please do not be afraid to shoot me a message through my inbox! Anonymous messages are completely acceptable and I am fully willing to answer any questions I can.

Don't be afraid to ask overly specific questions either! It could be an advice box if you need it :)

No transphobic or homophobic asks will be tolerated. You will be blocked, reported, and never seen on my blog again. This goes for transphobic jokes, memes, news articles, claims, scientific reports, etc.

THIS IS NOT A VENTING BOX!! I'm sorry in advance to my loves who are struggling with their lives right now but in order to help you if you submit an ask in the ask box, I must answer publicly. If you need to vent, don't be afraid to send me a message. :) I am here for you all and will listen to you all.

The admin of this blog does cope with ADHD (attention deficient hyperactive disorder ie. brain zoomies zoomz and cannot focus well, gets off task easily) and autism (ie. help me with social cues please I do not understand neurotypical people) so if you could use any of these codes at the beginning of a message I would greatly appreciate it!

(vent) - you would like to vent [ this is a rather general one ]

(help) - you would like advice with something included in your message

(word vomit) - you would like to rant about something in a negative way, like you had a bad day and need to get it off your chest

(rant) - you would like to talk to someone about something good or positive that may have happened :) THESE CAN BE SUBMITTED VIA ASKS IF YOU'D LIKE TO! this kind of ask will be included under the tag #trans positivity and will be made public to spread some hope and joy :)

What will this blog include other than just advice?

This blog will include all sorts of things, pertaining specifically to transgender people, regardless of transition status 🙏❤

This is a source of information, an outlet, and a friend to go to if you need a little boost.

Remember that I love you all, and you are all good people. No matter what others may say to you.

(P.S. please don't be afraid to repost screenshots on pinterest or other websites, I want this to reach as many people as it can 🙏🙏 this blog is only meant to help)

#trans rights #transgender #passing the cis test #trans youth #gender identity #lgbtq #lgbtq community #presenting tips #trans tips #trans advice

5 notes · View notes

wegonbealright-09 · 6 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/wegonbealright-09/731704995863494656/do-you-know-what-makes-me-really-angry-with-the?source=share

I just want to disagree with this anon in 1 small way. JK is very touchy with members like Hobi and Jin maybe even more than with Tae or Jimin (probably because of shipping though post 2021 JK started leaning into the fanservice). Meanwhile Jimin is also super touchy with all the members - like the skinship and comfort he and Hobi have is just on another level. And have we seen how Jin and Tae act on stage together sometimes? That is peak fanservice right there. Nobody tell me Bangtan don't do fanservice at all because that's a lie. But why is only Jimin being targeted by the brain dead losers of that ship?

It mostly stems from homophobia imo. Most of the people shipping tkk aren't actually all that ok with same sex relationships (a fun little experiment you can do is see how many people who ship tkk overwhelmingly come from countries where same sex couples aren't well accepted and are straight themselves) - they just don't want to see the person they're thirsting after with a woman so they'll pair him up with his band mate instead. But that 'safe' pairing gets destroyed when there's an actual queer person around and that is why Jimin is their target. Because he doesn't spend all his time posturing as some super straight d*uchbag or keeping his distance from his friends and is most probably bi, so his very existence acts like some threat to these people which is only exacerbated by the way (let's be honest) jkk act sometimes.

This story isn't unique to tkk. I'm telling you this exact storyline of the 'powers that be' keeping a secret couple apart and their girlfriends / wives being evil hired accomplices is a storyline that is copy and pasted over every crazy fandom including the 'clues' the secret couple send fans. Here it's tkk, somewhere else it's Larry, another it was the Supernatural actors, ditto for the actors from Glee, and pairings from BL dramas of course, and other KPop 'couples'. It is hilarious and sad that they repeat this same story over and over again with little variations. The variation here is that in other fandoms they channeled misogyny to target these people's real life partners and here they use homophobia to target their real life friend.

One last thing - another anon mentioned that it was these ships that was holding Jimin back from achieving his peak popularity and while it doesn't help, I'll again make the case that the root of people hating on Jimin is homophobia. The minute someone says he looks like a girl, or he's too flirty or seductive or that his voice is too high pitched - just know that's just code for I don't like queer people who don't project straight. Sometimes they'll just be more subtle - there's something about Jimin I just don't like. We all know what that something is b*tch.

And secretly I've always wondered if the reason JK was selected as the primary one they'd push inspite of Jimin being so popular is because he passes as straight (he probably is straight but I said passes because I don't want to assume). After all who is Hybe's decision makers except a bunch of old men who only care about money.

Anyway sorry that this ask became so long and rambley!

And boy did you rumble!

This whole ask picked my brain on something and I am going to make a post about it when I get my pc back I can't type long paragraph with a cellphone it's exhausting

And boy did you spill anon

11 notes · View notes

curioushabitforarivergod · 24 days

Note

So curious from your reblog - how is smoking a metaphor for gay sex in your writing?

My brain kinda jumps through hoops and muddles lines so I end up connecting things which don't really have a connection, but I'll try and explain it the best I can. Sorry if I end up offending anyone or something, wasn't intended, etc.

I think it kinda links back to the idea of what is considered taboo and to opium dens in the 19th century? Like opium dens were generally in the bad parts of town and I associate that with gay sex mainly because of The Picture of Dorian Grey when he felt this really strong desire to go to the dens and just get high. I kind of read this as a metaphor for the desire for gay sex, particularly with the homoerotic tones of the book because it was this thing that was common — people knew about it — but in a lot of social circles it was frowned upon? It's been a while since I read Picture but theres a kind of vulgarity to Dorian's need for drugs which my brain connected with gay sex. Tabacco is obviously a drug and so I made the connection between one addiction and another and thus gay sex, etc.

Moving forward, the wide-spread smoking of the 80s and 90s and the fact that a lot of the stories I begin writing take place during this time, surrounding queer characters usually who do drugs or smoke, kinda just reinforces it. I kinda accidentally trained by own brain here and so it became a link in my brain. There's also the obvious link with cigarettes being called fags in the uk especially where most media I end up consuming is from.

There's an element of hedonism to smoking (this links more back into drugs, but smoking too) and the pursuit of pleasure which links back to Dionysus who was very queer in Greek mythos. Gay sex has also largely been perceived as an upper-class thing in the past simply because that's what we have sources on and the upper-class is notoriously hedonistic, particularly queer circles from the 19th century until WWII which means the two kind of again, connect in my brain. So I'm basically saying that historically, gay sex is hedonistic as is smoking because of surviving historical evidence and what we see portrayed in media. (Note: I'm saying 19th century because that's when being gay was actually outlawed in the uk and not just a dot point under sodomy and/or buggery.)

Finally, the intimacy of a cigarette is something that I don't think is unfamiliar, e.g. lighting a cigarette for someone (either by lighting two in your mouth at the same time or cupping someone else's hands to light, etc.), sharing a cigarette with someone or spending time while smoking together, and of course post-coital smoking. There's something very intimate and social about smoking (which is why I think it became so popular in the first place) and so I often use it as a moment of intimacy in my writing even between straight characters or characters who aren't necessarily romantically or sexually connected.

In a long winded way, what I'm trying to say is the cigarette and smoking represent desire and gay sex is repressed desire. So by using the cigarette and a conversation that borders on flirtatious, you can play around with sex without actually saying anything explicit and your audience can get a gist of this desire. I think I do this more often than not because I prefer to write historical fiction and so the characters are often placed in an environment where they can't voice or act as we would today while still remaining polite.

I probably explained it quite poorly but that's how my brain is making these connections and it's weird actually voicing something that usually I don't think twice about. Thanks for the ask! <33

#succumbing to the cycle of history bcs almost everything i write is set pre 2000s #and also bcs i use smoking as a metaphor for gay sex #<- based on those tags from ops post that I reblogged #(the cycle of history is the romanticisation of smoking btw)#writing #ask #lowkey wrote an essay on this ngl but deal <33 #thank you for the ask!#ive never smoked or done anything other than my prescription drugs and it shows

5 notes · View notes

beetroot-merchant · 11 months

Note

Tell me about the anatomical traits of bipedalism this is not a joke I really want to know

REEEHEEHEE lucky me!! this is gonna focus on (the rise of) human bipedalism (pun intended) because i dont know jackshit about any other animals! ALSO im going to link everything i mention to its wikipedia article as further reading 4 those interested :3

also, pleas keep in mind i have zero formal education on this whatsoever i am literally just a hyperfixated child

Before we get straight into it, a brief word on evolution, since I include some human ancestors here- if you see a scientific name rather than a colloquial one like chimp or gorilla, that's a human ancestor. The reason the ancestors in question look like they're transitioning from chimps to humans is because chimps and the rest of the great apes haven't begun their bipedalism journey, and human ancestors did! We're more derived than chimps from our common ancestor :3 that's all thank you

The skull // foramen magnum positioning

OK SO i have no idea how to ease into this so im throwing it all at you raw. This is a human skull from the bottom view with the jaw removed:

Aside from looking freaky as hell, it's also got that big hole right in the center. It's called the foramen magnum, and it's the hole where your brain connects to the spinal cord- AKA, where your neck is. Cool, but what's this gotta do with anything? Take a gander now at this gorilla skull:

(Image src: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gorilla_Male_skull_base.png)

See how much closer to the back of the skull the gorilla's foramen magnum is? This is because gorillas primarily walk quadrupedally!

(Image src: https://origins.swau.edu/papers/man/hominid/index.html)

Here's also an example of the changing of its placement as bipedalism evolved- from left to right, that's a modern chimpanzee, Australopithecus africanus, Homo erectus, and a modern human.

If you're having trouble imagining how the placement of the neck could indicate how a primate walks, try getting on all fours and looking around you- you have to tilt your head up almost as far as it can go just to see forwards, and you can't see directly above you like you can when standing on your legs. If you try to maintain the position for a while, you'll get exhausted- and a majority of the mobility in your neck is now useless, because who cares about seeing the floor from twenty different angles? All of this is taken care of by just making the neck come out a lil closer to the back of your head. Behold my incredible artistic explanation:

The placement of the neck is uh, a LITTLE exaggerated, but you get the gist. Or at least, I hope you do, 'cause I'm moving on now.

The curves // spinal structure

Ok I'm going to come clean about this i think the spine is the most boring aspect of primate bipedalism to talk about because it's biophysics and its like whats the point of biology if you're just going to make it physics again, I came here to escape! But FINE, I'll talk about it.

also my sources here are probably the least reliable in the whole post because i had to go refresh my memory on fucking QUORA because i completely zone out whenever someone starts talking biophysics. SORRY FOR RAMBLING FOR TWO ENTIRE PARAGRAPHS it will happen again

Behold the curves in the spine for this chimp vs. this Man.

(Image src: https://www.quora.com/Why-do-human-spines-zig-zag-unlike-other-apes-How-is-it-not-detrimental)

And you should immediately see the differences. I mean, the red line's right there for you. C'mon. That dip inwards at the neck is called the cervical curve, the bump outwards at your ribcage is your thoracic curve, the final dip inwards between the ribs and the pelvis is the lumbar curve, and the tailbone-ish bit at the pelvis is your sacral curve! And quadrupedal apes have none of it.

The reason, in short, is gravity. It's painfully difficult to find an image that shows this that doesn't look goofy as hell, so please have this hilariously crunchy picture because it's the best I can do short of making my own.

(Image src: https://efossils.org/book/lumbar-vertebra)

This is where we get to the physics bit that I'm really not confident about whatsoever and I could be completely making up but AS FAR AS I UNDERSTAND:

Essentially, the weight on either side of that line has to be somewhat equal, but the dot it comes out of cannot move. Whenever a chimp like in the images or something similar stands up, it has to exert constant muscular effort to remain upright, because there's an imbalance. There isn't a demonstration of this I can think of like we had for the foramen magnum, but just imagine doing that Michael Jackson lean stunt or being bent over at your hip constantly. Physics bit over.

So, to keep us from being Anatomically Hunched Over Forever, we developed the lumbar curve- but because just inverting the curve in our spine was basically just as bad because now our ribs would be weird, we also got the thoracic curve to make up for it- but because our head being bent forward with the thoracic curve would also be weird (it'd create the same issue as discussed above with the foramen magnum), we ALSO got the cervical curve to make up for that. Do you see now why I don't like this? Funny as hell, don't get me wrong, but man.

The ass // pelvic structure

Can you tell my maturity is rapidly declining? The pelvis, as you can probably guess, is really indicitave of whether a primate was bi or quadrupedal. Feast your eyes upon the pelvis bones of a chimp, an Ardipithecus ramidus, and a human respectively.

(Image src: https://www.researchgate.net/figure/The-Ardipithecus-pelvis-at-44-mya-was-already-more-human-than-chimpanzee-like-Three_fig4_280721011)

Take a look at that side view in the first row- it's wild how different those shapes are! If you're having trouble picturing this in 3D, a human pelvis is more bowl-shaped whereas a chimp's is kind of flat, like a road sign. This allows for two main things, as far as I can tell - one, our pelvises literally serve as bowls for our internal organs, just as extra support, and two, this broader, wider area gives more space for the ass muscles to attach, which makes standing on one leg easier- a problem quadrupeds obviously don't have.

A second change you might notice is that the pelvis obviously shrunk along with changing shape! This is to bring the sacral curve closer to the hips to create sort of a ⊥ (upside-down T) shape, which makes everything way more stable than if it was a ⅄ (upside-down Y) shape. This matters because the ball-and-socket joints we walk on are actually relatively unstable to balance on, we needa make things as stable as possible, to put less muscular effort into balancing!

Another, far, faar more subtle difference is the size of the hip joints (check the side views in the first row again - not the holes! The little circular imprints above them) has gotten bigger! This is because when you half the number of limbs that are supporting your weight, you double the weight each limb is carrying- so our bones need to be thicker and stronger than a quadrupedal ape's down there!

The legs // knee structure

I'm not doing this. No more physics please no more physics

The feef // inline big toes and arches

Let's kick (lol. lmao) this bit off with some human-chimp comparisons, as always!

The big thing here, as you can guess, is the weird big toe chimps have (although we gotta keep in mind that we're the more divergent species, AKA the weird ones!) which you probably already know is for climbing trees! As our ancestors left the canopies we slowly lost need for a big toe like that and now we've got lame ass feet.

One thing we did gain, though, is three arches in our feet- y'know, that inwards dip in the "palm"? Chimps and other quadrupedal apes don't have that, and are flat-footed! It helps with walking and stuff. I dunno.

God, that's a lot! If you read all the way here, um, thank you! Hope you learned something or at least thought this was cool ^^ I'd be happy to try and answer any questions :3!!

#cw animal bones #tw animal bones #animal bones tw #animal bones cw #do they count as animals colloquially if they're hominidae? who cares! gnarly bones!#bones tw #bones cw #cw bones #tw bones #skull tw #tw skull #skull cw #cw skull #no id #no description #[IF SOMEONE WOULD BE WILLING TO WRITE IMAGE DESCRIPTIONS FOR ALL OF THESE I WOULD LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EDIT THEM ONTO THE POST !!! TY]#🐞 || asks #🐞 || beetle's bad biology

22 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

scandalousgeekquirks

All the Quirks

doobea

𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒆

venyula-blog

VENYU

titikawai

Titikawai

realamarolionheart

Amaro Lionheart