#they both survived so much trauma and came out kind and loving people and that's genuinely amazing and yet they get hate?? i dont get it

[miasmultifandomdump]

Steve Rogers 🤝 Cinderella

Getting hate for being... nice?

#they both survived so much trauma and came out kind and loving people and that's genuinely amazing and yet they get hate?? i dont get it #steve rogers #steve rogers defense squad #pro steve rogers #captain america #cinderella #cinderella defense squad #pro cinderella #all queued up with nowhere to go

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

My heart is yours

a/n I know this ain't TLOU gif but I had to. Look how this man could hold you. Anyways... happy reading. This just came out of nowhere.

summary: Jackson doesn't seem to kill the fears in Joel's mind, only awaking new kind of doubts. Can you actually be in love with him or is it a hopeless dream that Joel is chasing?

Requested and inspired by my little lilly 🪷

warning: past injuries, hand trauma.

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Joel didn't care for any of it. He didn't care about a safe space to live in. He didn't care about what or where he slept. What he ate and if he ate in general. Pills and alcohol were all he needed at night. Even after twenty years, life hadn't been the same. And by that point, Joel simply didn't care. He lived in black and white. There was no in-between. He no longer believed in happiness. No longer strived to make a change. He was simply surviving.

Yet Joel's imagination would paint pictures of a somewhat different world. A handful of pills later, the blanket that laid over his shoulders would turn into a lover's embrace. Where the pillow felt like the soft flesh of the significant other. Joel was thankful when he had no recollections of the night like that. Where there was blank darkness and no evidence that he had been nothing but lonely. Longing. Somewhere deep down, longing to make a change. Most importantly, longing to be loved. Longing for someone to see him. To dust off the pain and make him feel something different.

Then Ellie came along, and you were right beside her. At first, Joel didn't even understand why Marlene wanted him on this job when you were with Ellie. Wild animals were less frenzied than you. Surely getting Ellie to the fireflies was like a walk in the park for you. That was until Joel noticed your trembling hands. The way you rubbed your palms together. How you only stick to knives for self-defense.

You had opened up about your past one night as you both sat under the starry sky, with Ellie fast asleep not far away from you. The cold temperature was extremely brutal for your hands. The ache seemed never-ending. "Do you want these?", Joel broke the silence, taking off his much thicker gloves before handing them to you. You just started at him. Of course, you had talked before. You've been on the road with him for some time now. But it always seemed cold and bitter. If there was one thing Joel was extremely good at, it was making people feel like they were the problem.

You shook your hand, inching towards the fire, moving your palms closer to the flame. Joel gazed at you, letting out a sigh. It was odd considering the type of your communication but he could feel the strange feeling bubbling inside him. The feeling would perk up if he would woke up to you by his side or if your head would fall onto his shoulder as you dozed off while keeping watch. Even when you laughed alongside Ellie, Joel couldn't help that strange sensation in his stomach.

"I would prefer if you took them. I'm not cold anyway", Joel spoke up again. "And I'm not a cripple", "I never said that", you turned to him quickly. Even in the dim light, Joel could see the tears that glossed over your eyes. "Your eyes say enough", you bit back, turning your attention to the flame in front of you. Joel wasn't sure why he was even doing this, but he moved forward, resting his hands on your shoulder. It had been weird between you two. You had kissed a couple of times. And if the first kiss was the aftermath of too much adrenaline after a near-death experience. The second time had no justification. "What happened", Joel said softly, rubbing your shoulders ever so slightly. He had once selfishly examined your hands while you slept. Joel knew that was an invasion of privacy, but his eyes caught onto the scars and his fingers moved without a second thought.

You let out a bitter laugh. "I was a bad girl. I got involved with bad people, and well, bad people do bad things", Joel had seen. Had inspected the scars and permanent discoloration that covered your hands. He wondered what had happened. Wondered who were the people that had done this. Most importantly, he wondered how good it would feel to make them slowly suffer for all that was done to you.

Joel had never done this when you two were fully awake, never fully aware. He pulled you closer to him. Your hands instantly clasped over his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Silent tears fall down your cheeks. Oddly enough, Joel had been a safe space for you. Someone you knew would go that extra mile to make sure that you were safe. "You have nothing to fear now. I've got you. You can count on me, sweet", Joel said, making you let out a silent sob as you held onto him tighter. "What if I fail to protect you though…", you whispered. Joel quickly turned you around in his arms so he could face you. "Didn't seem like a problem when you stabbed that guy in the throat", Joel said, referencing the attack in the store, but you just narrowed your eyes at him. "We have each other, and now that Ellie has a gun, believe me, we are good", you let out a light chuckle while leaning your head against Joel's chest. That was the night you saw a future in him. Leaving you to hope that Joel felt the same way.

Ellie was bubbling through all the stories of today. In all honesty, she was supposed to do her homework while you fished off with dinner, but you didn't have the heart to stop her. Seeing her so full of life was refreshing. You three haven't been in Jackson very long. A month at best, and it still seemed like a dream. Tommy had very kindly landed you a small cottage at the side of the town. They even arranged a little celebration to welcome you, Ellie, and Joel in. Joel of course snarled through most of it.

Holding onto your hips as he zoned in and out. Partly listening to the conversations you were having with people that were around him and partly just trying to ground himself. He hated places like this. There was too much buzz. Joel wasn't used to it. Not to mention the attention that was put on you three. That was way too exhausting. You would occasionally turn to him. Running your fingers through Joel's hair or simply resting your hands on top of his hands that were lazily curled over your middle.

A protective gesture. You called it Joel's circle. He did this often. Even if you two were in the comfort of your new home. His arms would wrap around your middle. The only moving space you had was within Joel's embrace. You knew it was still so hard for him to feel safe. To not fear that something was going to happen. Joel loved running over the worst scenarios. Your broody, grumpy grape. You shifted in his embrace. Your eyes searched his tired ones. "Should we make a grand outing? So that everyone would think that we are going to fuck our night away?", you said casually, making Joel let out a laugh. His bold ray of sunshine. God, that smart mouth of yours drove Joel insane. "Depends on how loud you are willing to moan", you let out a gasp, shoving him slightly, as you got lost in Joel's smile. A rare sight for sore eyes.

Everyone was quick to label you as Joel's girl. It was in a way strange at first because no matter where you went, you were met with the same greeting, but then again, you couldn't blame them. Joel watched you like a hawk. Eyes rarely left you if you were in his sight. Always looking. Always watching. Even here, he was a man who was feared. Well, besides the fact that most females were ready to hook their arms around his neck. You wondered if he ever noticed how they drooled over him. You were hoping that he didn't because if Joel chose any of them over you… Not that you had a say, but your heart would be shattered.

"And then I said that I was done with the project", Ellie continued to chirp, "But I gave you guys credit, don't worry", you let out a laugh at her words. You three had lots of fun building that paper rocket ship. Ellie came home with an assignment to build her dream. Seeing the space was one of them. So you three sat on the living room floor for hours. Small talk lingers. The plate with cookies was nearly empty. "Did you give credit to Joel's back?", you turned to Ellie, and the smirk on her face was outrageous considering that she was still a child. "Got a special mention on the title page", Ellie said sheepishly, and you two fell into fits of laughter just as Joel stepped into the kitchen.

"What are we laughing about?", Joel moved straight to you, planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head. His usual way of greeting you. You closed your eyes at the sensation, savoring the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Honestly?", Ellie asked, and Joel nodded. "How I wrote a special appreciation poem for your back because you helped with the ship", Joel rolled his eyes at that. Ellie took great joy in making fun of his age. But Joel never really cared about it. As long as she was happy, so was he.

Joel noticed the jar in your hands and how your palms flexed as you tried to open it. Without a single word, Joel placed his hands over yours. Pressing ever so slightly as he turned the lid off. You bit your lip. That was another thing that Joel did. If it wasn't necessary, he never took the things you were trying to open away from your hands. He just offered additional strength with his hands. It was his way of making sure that you didn't feel worthless. Joel would notice your struggles; he always did. But he had learned to read your body language and to know when you needed his aid and when it was best to leave you to it alone.

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a silent thank you that he answered with yet another kiss to your temple. "Okay, you two are doing that cute shit again", Ellie's voice made you both turn her way. "Don't you look at me like that? Will I have to drag you two to the altar or are you going to do something about it yourself?", she blurted out, making your eyes grow big. "You get back to your homework, miss, 'cause if it's not done before dinner, you're not eating", Joel pointed a warning finger the girl's way, which she graciously met by sticking out her tongue.

A light blush crept up on your cheeks. Alter seemed way out of reach. Well, for now at least. You weren't even sure if you two were together. You assumed you were, but… You had never talked. It was a silent promise. As if you claimed one another without words. Leaving it to the actions. Joel held on to you like you were his lifeline most nights. Face buried in the crook of your neck. Arms pulling you as close to his chest as possible. If nightmares clouded his mind, you would pull him closer to yourself. Gently guiding him to lay down practically on top of you as you brushed your fingers through his salt-and-pepper. hair You loved them. It was almost embarrassing that sometimes you just twirled Joel's curls between your fingers with such admiration. You knew he never found himself beautiful, but in your eyes, he was the most handsome male you had ever laid your eyes on.

"Will you grab the plate, I…", you didn't even have to finish the sentence. Joel was already moving through the kitchen. "How was patrol?", "Nothing new, although the weather is getting better", you hummed at Joel's words. The sun was shining for most of the day today, and you could tell that everyone was in a much more cheerful mood. "How was the meeting with Becky?", Becky was a woman in her eighties. She had worked many years in the medical field, especially with post-trauma treatments. You visited her every other day, and she guided you through different exercises to rebuild the strength of your hands. "It was okay, but as you can see, I can barely hold the spoon," you said as you lifted your trembling head up for Joel to see, but he didn't find much amusement in that. He feared that you pushed yourself too much with this. Stepping closer, Joel took both of your hands into him before pressing them to his lips. "Please wash your hands before you pour my bowl; I don't want Joel's saliva in it", Ellie sassed from the other side of the room. "Ellie", you said with a chuckle, and Joel threw a towel her way, making you both fall into fits of laughter.

Jackson felt like a dream. Like a lucky coin. A four-petal clover. You name it. Yet Joel still couldn't settle his mind. Now more than ever, it felt so clustered. He watched you and Ellie laughing over dinner. The table he also sat at, but did he deserve to be here? Or were you two better on your own? Joel wasn't blind; he saw how people practically melted when you walked through the streets offering everyone a smile. You brought life to an already lively town. Contributing to help anywhere and everywhere. Seeing you shift from this constantly scared girl to a lovely young woman was a huge gift to Joel.

He wanted you to live. To experience happiness and joy. He wanted you to be carefree. To dance your nights away. To be twirled around the dance floor by different males and females. You deserve to live. Something Joel probably couldn't afford to be a part of. Moments when he saw younger males looking your way, talking amongst themselves as they looked you up and down made him both unimaginably angry and jealous. First of all, you weren't an object to be gawked at. You deserved a respectful partner. And second of all, Joel knew if he had met you earlier, when he was full of life, it would have been so different. He would have given you everything. He would be the one twirling you around the dance floor. He would have taken you on dates by the river. Played you different songs on his guitar. Now that side of him was dead. Buried by all the pain. Buried beside Sarah.

"Joel…", after feeling your hand on his, Joel quickly turned your way. Your brows were crushed down. "You haven't touched your food, hun", you said softly. Joel's eyes drifted to the plate in front of him. The tightness in his throat and chest increased. As the thoughts of being only a burden swirled through his brain. Why were you here? Were you simply scared? Scared to explore something more because he was here? Would Ellie be happier if you settled for someone younger? It sure would make a more normal-looking family. Joel quickly stood up, nearly knocking the chair over as he rose. "I'm not hungry; I'm going for a walk", he said coldly as he stepped out of the kitchen. You called his name a couple of times. Joel braced himself against the fence. Hand on the chest as he tried to take in at least a single gulp of air.

You waited for Joel to return almost all night, but he didn't show up. You had wondered if you should go and try to find him, but deep down you knew that your wandering down the street in the night would only add to whatever that was going on with him. You've got Ellie ready for school. Making extra scrambled eggs and scribbling a little note for Joel. You're not alone. You can count on me, it said. A tiny heart by the end of it. Now you could only hope that it wasn't something you had done.

You pupped to help out another elderly lady while you waited for Ellie to be done with her classes. She made the most delicious meat pies and pastries. The delicious smell followed you around the bakery all day. You did as much as your hand allowed you, for the rest compensating with your smile. Already thinking about how you were going to surprise Joel with a pie that you had made yourself. He was a sweet guy deep down. And it had been way too long since you all had a proper pie.

You slipped inside the school just as the last class was finishing. The sight of Ellie nearly leaning out of her chair as she followed every word that the teacher was saying was endearing. She needed this. Needed other kids. Needed to learn. Needed to feel normal. "Y/N, right?", you quickly turned to the side. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump", the guy, who wasn't that much older than you, said, rubbing the back of his neck. You've seen him around, but if you were being honest, you had no clue who he was. As if sensing this, the guy quickly said, "Ben, one of Ellie's teachers. We've met at the bar". You smiled at him, "Right, yes, sorry. A lot of new faces still". Your eyes drifted back to Ellie. For some reason, you felt uneasy in his presence.

"So am… You… I'm making such a fool of myself", Ben rambled on, quickly popping into what you assumed was a teacher's room. For a split second, you wondered if you should just walk away, but Ben walked out with a big bouquet of flowers you didn't even know the name of. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "I was hoping that you would pop in today. Got you those", you knew that you needed to say something but you felt lost for words. No one had ever gotten you flowers and… Ben carefully placed the bouquet in your hands. "You just caught my eye, and I've been wanting to ask you out. I know this is super straightforward", you shook your head, "I… they are beautiful, thank you, but… I." A part of you was screaming that this was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you were with Joel. But were you with Joel? Your head felt like it was spinning, but you just didn't feel it. It didn't feel the same. Didn't feel like it did with Joel.

"Look… I'm sure you are a really sweet guy, but I'm in a… Well, I like someone else, and I just", your voice sounded so small. You hated that you weren't confident. Ben gave an awkward nod, "Right, the big guy. I should have guessed", "I'm sorry; I'm sure there's a sweet girl out there for you. Thank you for… well, for the flowers though. Unless you want to keep them". You pushed the bouquet towards him, but he only shook his head and said, "Keep them, and I hope we can still get to know each other. Like friends, of course", you smiled at him right as the door opened and kids spilled out of the classroom.

"So, wait, he just did like… Did he kiss you?", Ellie hadn't stopped talking ever since you left the building. To her, this was the most hilarious thing ever, while you still tried to process it all. "Of course not. I would have never let him do that", you said. "Do you reckon he fantasizes about you?", you glared at her quickly. Ellie only lifted her hands in defiance.

"A pie and flowers. Are we celebrating something?", you didn't even realize that you were standing in front of the cottage with Joel leaning against the open door. You opened your mouth, but Ellie beat you to it: "Ben got Y/N flowers; bet he is like in love with her", she said as she wiggled her eyebrows at Joel. You knew this was innocent. You knew she didn't understand what was going on between you two. So you couldn't blame her, but you wished she hadn't said it like that. Joel's jaw clenched. Anger washed over him. He turned away from you moving to the back patio.

Joel knew who Ben was. Most importantly, Joel saw the way Ben looked at you. That guy was a good bit younger than him. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes. Desire burned inside him. Ben wanted you and Joel could see it. Did you want him as well? "Joel, wait, Joel,", he heard your pleading voice as he rushed down the little stairs, moving to the backside garden. "Go back to your boyfriend", Joel snarled through gritted teeth. "Ben is just Ellie's teacher. I didn't even…", Joel turned to you quickly, "Who gives you flowers", "Well, maybe he's just being sweet", you knew that you both knew that that was bullshit. And honestly, now you wondered if downplaying it would only make it worse.

"Maybe he just likes you", Joel spat back, frustration dripping off him. "Do you seriously don't see it? That fuck had a big old crush on you ever since you came here". Those words, however, did take you by surprise because you didn't see it. You never acknowledged Ben's presence. You didn't care what Ben was doing. You never looked for it. "Well, I didn't see it, no", Joel gave you a look that clearly showed you that he didn't believe you. "Oh, come on. I've never had a man show me attention before you; how am I supposed to know?", you asked, raising your hand in frustration. Growling as Joel turned and started to walk again. "Joel, stop fucking walking or I'll throw the fucking flowers at you!", you shouted as your frustration laced through you. Joel stopped in his tracks.

"Do you seriously feel like he's my type?", you approached the man in front of you slowly, dropping the flowers to the side as you walked. "Joel", "I don't know", he muttered under his breath. He wasn't good at this thing. He wasn't good with his emotions. But the fear of losing you crippled him. "Well, my type is anything but that. I like my man mature like wine or cheese", you said, moving to cup Joel's cheeks. "Come on, turn the frown upside down", you encouraged him slowly, but Joel only shifted his eyes to you. Piercing through your soul.

"Listen to me, you stubborn hulk. This", you took a hold of his hand, pulling it up and pressing it over your heart, "Beats for you. I picked you a long time ago. And if you think some thirty-something dickhead can come in and swoop me away", you shook your head. "Yeah, have more faith in yourself, especially when all of Jackson's females have an orgasm when you walk by", you sassed. "No, they don't", Joel argued, but you only crooked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you mean it?", Joel asked, arms now sneaking to hold onto your hips, "That my heart is yours? With my whole life", you smiled up at him. Joel leaned in. A breath hitched in your throat as he erased the last bit of distance between you two and your lips met his. You felt like you had blacked out for a moment as all the fireworks started to explode from within you. You held on to Joel for dear life as he pressed you closer to his body. His other hand cupped your cheek. It was desperate. Needy. Long overdue, and you couldn't suppress the giggle that fell from your lips as you two finally parted. Hiding your face in Joel's chest.

You could feel how fast his own heart was beating. Smiling to yourself that it was you who had such an effect on him, "I love you", he whispered. Barely audible but more than enough for you to step on your tiptoes and kiss him again. "I'm in a daring mood to let the whole of Jackson know that I am yours", you mumbled after a while in Joel's embrace. "Pick your words carefully, baby girl,", Joel warned, but you only smirked back at him. Before pulling the devilish smile, "Want to fuck me against the electricity pole?", Joel let out a surprised laugh before shaking his head at you. Scooping you up in his arms quickly, making you let out a scream followed by fits of giggles as he carried you back into the cottage.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hellooo how about a Minho x she/her reader where Minho has been hit by the lightning and hs the scars and one day Reader walks on Minho being half naked and she traces his scars and theres tension building up ;) THANK YOU

I love lightning scars Minho so absolutely.

This is a relatively new request, but I'm trying to get some of the easier ones done since I'm currently away.

And I just liked this idea.

SPARKS

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. After TDC in the Safe Haven. You're a Right Arm member because I just like the idea.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, spice, typical dumb horny teenage bullshit. That's it, really.

You're a member of the Right Arm.

You're not high-ranking or necessarily special. You just ended up tagging along after Vince came through the refugee camp you were staying at.

But that doesn't mean you don't do anything. You're bold and forward, and you went through life-risking measures to help WICKED's Subjects escape.

Because, well, everyone did.

That doesn't matter now, though. They're safe, you're safe - everyone is safe and everything is okay.

Well, kind of.

Trauma doesn't just vanish. But, people are getting on with their lives.

And so are you.

You've ended up befriending some of the Gladers. Originally, you were friends with Harriet and Sonya since they'd been around a while - and they introduced you to the boys. So, you've got your own little friendship group now.

You're particularly close to Frypan and have some friendly competition with Gally. But you like them all the same.

Well...

Almost.

You don't know what it is about Minho that has you in such a chokehold. Sure, maybe if you were some innocent girl from a Maze who didn't know how to act around boys, it would make sense. But you're not.

You've survived the Scorch and the land outside of the remainder of society. It's not like Minho is the first person you've ever been attracted to either. So, why does he make you feel like this?

Apart from the fact he is undeniably attractive.

You figure it's just dumb surface level physical attraction. And with nothing else better to do, you decide to test the waters a bit.

Glancing at him across the table as the bonfire dances and his friends chat, often meeting each other's gaze. He holds it longer than he should. He always does.

Always standing or sitting next to him; your arms or your knees brushing as neither of you make any effort to grow the distance between you.

Playful inside jokes that often have subtle suggestive undertones. Normally, in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it style that the other Gladers brush off or don't notice. This results in Minho smirking into his chosen beverage, drinking up your figure out of the corner of his eye.

It goes on like this for a while; just being in the same friend group with some subtle flirtations going on. It's actually kind of fun and a much needed way to relax.

But it doesn't actually go much further than that. And you're fine with that.

For a while.

The jokes start becoming more explicit. The eye contact becoming less subtle. The closeness becoming drunken dancing instead of just standing together.

People are starting to notice.

The dumb attraction is starting to become actual feelings. He's brave and strong and funny and everything you want - and it's just making the sexual tension thicker.

God - it's getting bad. Anyone and everyone in a room with you two would be able to feel it.

The Gladers often tease Minho about it, talking about how he's one wrong move away from ripping your clothes off and cracking where he stands.

It's taking a lot of resilience from the both of you. Especially since you're both stubborn - it's become a silent game of who will crumble first.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" You're currently sorting out bedding and hauling different types of sleeping arrangements around camp. With Gally being put in charge of the Builders now, the huts are being thrown up like there's no tomorrow.

The Gladers and other Maze Subjects got the first available buildings, along with high up Right Arm members. You don't really mind, to be fair, you enjoy the hammocks and are happy to help the Gladers.

But as Thomas shouts you, you groan, turning around, blankets threatening to spill out of your hold. "Hey, Thomas. You good?"

"Yeah," something seems off about him as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, "I know you're already busy, but could you check on Minho for me?"

"Huh?" You tilt your head, concern immediately setting in. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Uh," Thomas did not think this far ahead of his dumb plan. "Well, we just haven't seen him all day - seems kinda down. Figured you'd be the best person to speak to him."

This perplexes you. "Why me? You guys are closer."

And you could've sworn you'd seen Gally and Minho shoving each other about earlier today. Though, maybe you're just mixing up your days.

"Yeah, but he likes you, so..." You pause, farrowing your brows. He likes you? In what context? Like you know that he likes you. But... like, more than just the dumb flirting?

You shake it off. "Alright, gimme a second."

You dump the bedding off where it needs to be and make a beeline for Minho's hut.

Little do you know that Minho has just gotten out of the shower - and is completely fine. Thomas and Frypan decided they'd had enough of enduring the tension between you and this is the result that.

Reaching the door, it's slightly ajar, and in your concerned state, you, for some reason, decide not to knock.

"Hey, Minho, are you-?" You push open the door and immediately freeze.

Well, shit.

Minho stands with his back to you, loose sweatpants hanging off of his hips and he's without a shirt. He rubs his hair with a towel, freezing at your voice and turning slightly to look at you.

Which would be less awkward if you weren't in some kind of trance.

Minho is tall and muscular, and he doesn't have to be half naked for you to be aware of that. But, that's not what's stands out.

All over his upper body, mainly populating his back, are pinkish lines. They travel down his spine and split like webs across his back, some whisps creeping across his sides and grazing his front.

"You just gonna stare or ask me about it?" Minho says after a good few seconds pass.

What do you even ask?

"Uh, what... why..?" You trail off and Minho raises his eyebrow before scoffing.

"I got hit by lightning." He states matter-of-factly. "Ended up giving me some scars."

"When did that happen?"

"Out in the Scorch, just before we met Brenda and Jorge."

"And you never mentioned this?"

"Well, it didn't seem like a big deal," he smirks. "And I'm kinda enjoying the look on your face."

This kind of snaps you back into reality. You're here for a reason.

You clear you throat, closing the door behind you for more privacy just in case the ex-Runner is on the verge of a meltdown. "Are you... alright?"

"Uh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Minho is growing more concerned by the second. What is happening here?

"Well, Thomas said that something was wrong and asked me to talk to you."

Minho scoffs, putting the dots together and slowly nodding his head before rubbing his face with his hands. "Did he, now? Shuckin' slinthead. I knew they were up to something."

"Huh?"

"They're messing with you - us, even."

"Huh? Why would- oh! Oh."

Ah. That makes more sense. And is mildly mortifying.

"Yeah." Minho shakes his head, turning away from you again as he mumbles to himself. "Sorry, my friends are dicks."

"It's uh, fine. It's fine."

Your gaze falls back on Minho's chiselled form. He's practically mouth-watering.

And it's not like this is weird. You've been pushing each other's boundaries since day one. This could be another opportunity to see how far you can take things. I mean, he would if this were the other way around. So, with a sudden peak in confidence, you walk over.

Minho chucks his towel on his bed. "So, are you-?"

Minho doesn't even get the chance to finish his question as electricity sparks through him. Again. This time, not because he's nearly dying, but because your fingers graze his back.

His entire body stills, his mind immediately becoming foggy, and the hair on his arms stands on end.

"Do they still hurt?" You ask, your gaze focused on his skin and your voice low.

You're gentle in your moments, letting your fingertips barely tickle his flesh. But with the immediate and tense reaction, you're reminded that Minho is about as touch-straved as someone can get.

He's just good at hiding it.

"Uh, no, not really. They kinda feel weird sometimes, and I was really buggin' out about them when I first noticed them. But I guess I had bigger klunk on my plate." He tries to maintain his composure, but his voice wavers at several points.

You bring your hand higher, dancing across his spine and between his shoulder blades.

"Why were you buggin' out?" You've grown somewhat used to the Glader way of speaking.

He hesitates for a second, physically jumping when your other hand joins in, using your thumb to rub circles and pull at the scars threating to escape to his middrift.

"Well, I uh- shit," he mumbles the cuss word, stepping back more and into your touch, letting his head fall back. "I just... they just look weird, yanno?"

"I think they look hot."

Okay, you're becoming very bold.

"Hm? You think I look hot?" He asks, half-looking over his shoulder at you, not wanting to fully turn around and lose the feeling.

"That's not what I said."

"That's what I'm askin'."

You blink at him, watching his lopsided smile creep across his face.

In a game of confidence - Minho will always win.

Which means trying to play it cool.

"I just think scars are interesting, they tell a story."

"Do you go around touching everyone's scars, then?" He cracks a wicked grin you can't see as he turns his head away again. "That might get you in a bit of trouble around here."

"Yeah, but not with you." It actually is genuinely fun tracing the patterns in his skin. You have one hand following one path and the other following a different one.

"Oh, yeah? How do you know that?"

"Because you like it."

He peers at you again, his face suddenly serious and his tone lower than before. "You're really starting to push it, yanno that?"

"Push what?" You tilt your head, pretending to play innocent.

"You know what."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"So, you're just feeling me up because you think my scars are hot?" He scoffs. "That's what's happening here?"

You think for a second. Fuck it. "Yep."

"Well, there's more scars if you wanna touch them?"

Your eyes flicker to his face, letting your arms fall from his skin. He turns around, holding his hands behind his back, he rocks on his heels.

From his back, travelling to his front are smaller webs of the scarring. At first glance, you thought they only reached around his sides, but now you're realising there's thinner, less noticeable branches trailing across his abs.

He presses his lips into a thin line, almost like he's calling your bluff. Because this is the game you've been playing. Pushing each other. And you've pushed him so he's pushing you.

Though, this very well might end up being the breaking point.

Too stubborn to back down, your hand connects with his stomach area. He flinches, but very quickly relaxes again. You gently run your fingers across the lines and the curves of not only the remains of the electricity, but of just his body.

Your eyes flicker to his face as you expect him to make some cocky comment about how that's not a scar. But he doesn't. His eyes are fixated on your hand.

It's a feeling he's never really experienced before - watching someone enjoy him. Someone touch him with such care. With such want. Someone touching him like this at all is new.

And it's you.

You're the one touching him.

You.

And that's making it so much worse.

He doesn't make any effort to hide or stop the tightening sensation in his pants or the way his chest is rising and falling. His mind is falling into complete fog; he feels like he's taken something he probably shouldn't have.

You notice it, too.

"Minho-?"

"Shut up," he says almost immediately, eyes finally meeting yours. His pupils are wide and his eyelids heavy. "This... this isn't fair. You can't..."

He seems a strange mix of stressed and turned on.

"Okay, I'll stop," you pull your hand away, but he immediately grabs it, laying it flat against his middrift. "Minho?"

"Don't," he mumbles. "Don't stop." He can't look at you properly.

God, what's happening to him?

"Look," he continues, trying to gain some sort of clarity for a second. "If you're just messing around, that's fine, but leave now, okay? 'Cause this is getting cruel."

His words and the way he's acting is sending heat straight to your core. You step towards him, your faces inches apart.

"Are you caving, Minho?" Your voice is sultry as your hand slides further down his front.

"Are you?" He responds, leaning in further, your noses brush and you can feel his breath on your face.

"We can't keep doing this, yanno? One of us has to break eventually." You mumble, practically into his lips.

His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips.

"Shuck it," his hands come to your waist, yanking you closer as he finally kisses you. You squeak from the force behind it as you throw you arms around his neck, clawing into his back to try and steady yourself.

It takes a matter of seconds for Minho to spin you around, pushing you onto the bed, both of you tangling together. Desperation sets in fairly quickly.

Minho's hands under your shirt as you try to pull it over your head. His lips on your neck and chest as he slips a hand under you, trying to yank your jeans down. You leave stains on his skin from your nails.

It's a blur of emotion and hormones.

Then Minho hesitates as he sits back. At first, you think he's just admiring you as you lay in your underwear, but there's something else.

"You good?" You ask, becoming concerned.

"You know we're not gonna be friends anymore if we do this, right? Like the flirting and klunk is fun, but this is different. We can't take this back. A-and I've never done this before. I don't wanna shuck up our friendship or make things weird."

You blink at him before sitting up. He watches you as you move onto your knees and kiss him again.

"I don't wanna be your damn friend, Minho. Take the hint."

It's like there's a light behind his eyes, a smile creeping across his face, but unlike his usual cocky smirk, it's soft and warm and genuine.

He pecks your lips. It's sweet and unusual for him. "You wanna be more than friends, then?"

"Yeah," you chuckle, "but I'm sure we can worry about that later. We're a bit busy right now." You wrap your arms around his neck again, lightly touching the scars on his back. He grins at you, connecting your lips again as he pushes you down.

He pulls away, his teeth brushing your ear lobe as he lets out a low chuckle.

"Sounds like a good plan."

Here ya go, another spicey Minho piece for y'all.

I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri tmr minho #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr imagines #minho the maze runner #tmr minho #minho maze runner #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #the maze runner

[gatheringbones]

[“I want to spend a moment reflecting on exploitation: I’ve been eyed for social work since I was in my mid-teens. A racialized, mentally ill, gender queer youth, I was also remarkably articulate, psychologically precocious, eager to help and to please. The adult service providers whose orbit I floated in were quick to notice and take a shine to me—I was one of those once-in-a-blue-moon clients, the kind it feels both easy and rewarding to work with because I was so traumatized yet seemed to “improve” so quickly. The adults I trusted always seemed to want me in their empowerment initiatives, they were eager to put me on youth councils and committees, they gave me leadership roles despite the fact that I was in way over my head. I was brilliant and gifted, they said. I had so much to offer, they said. Helping was what I was made for.

I came to identify my worth with helping, my lovableness with how much I was able to give and please. It didn’t matter that most of my early jobs and roles involved some significant risks—for example, facilitating antihomophobia workshops in high schools as a high school student myself might have required a rather enormous amount of self-disclosure and vulnerability to strangers, but it was all for the cause, wasn’t it? And how proud my youth workers were whenever I came back from another successful outing. And if the honorariums they paid me were less than minimum wage, well, it was more money than I’d ever made before, wasn’t it? And how lucky was I to get paid to do something that did so much good for other people?

When I got to college age, I knew it was my purpose in life to help and heal other people. In my darker moments, it sort of seemed like that was all I was good for—and all the trusted adults, the wise youth workers and therapists and psychiatrists who mentored me, said I was gifted. They said I was special. My diversity made me fashionable. So “interesting” and “textured,” one psychotherapy supervisor called me. A wealthy white psychologist said I was an “ambassador for my people.” (She didn’t specify which people.) This was how, at twenty-two years old, I began an internship that involved doing therapy with adults who had survived childhood sexual trauma. Although I had no real clinical training, I held sessions for them at night in the windowless basement of a hospital in Montreal. I learned therapy techniques quickly, from videos on the internet and by practising on the job. People were counting me. I had to help.

Some quick number-crunching tells me that I gave over 4,000 hours of unpaid therapy in order to get to paid work as a clinician. By contrast, the very first sex work gig I got paid me $100 for some nude cuddling and a sloppy hand job that I completed in twenty minutes. I almost never think about that first gig now. I still dream about the stories my clients told me in that first unpaid therapy internship I took at twenty-two. Occasionally, I still cry, wondering how they are now, if I’d done enough to help them.

My social work experience isn’t every social worker’s experience, so I can’t claim to speak for the whole social work community. What I can say is that the people around me saw something useful and beautiful that they liked in me, so they took it and used it and I allowed it to happen because I wanted to feel loved and I didn’t think I really had choices. What I can say is that my sex work practice started out rough and frightening, but it blossomed into a decent learning experience and a business that paid me lots of cash up front, usually with no strings attached.”]

kai cheng thom, do you feel empowered in your job? and other questions therapists ask sex workers, from The Care We Dream Of: Liberatory & Transformative Justice Approaches to LGBTQ+ Health, edited by Zena Sharman, 2021

#kai cheng thom #zena sharman #trans literature #currently reading

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

it's here. the third and final part!

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: it's been over a year with joel and some things have just fallen apart. you miss him, more than you'd like to admit. after some time apart, you find yourself at tommy's christmas party. your recent endeavours catch up with you, and joel doesn't like the way it's looking.

Part 3/3

Links for Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, very angsty, age gap, joel being very protective, use of homophobic slang, guy being creepy towards reader, very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names

Author's Note: I'm so happy to bring this final part to you beautiful people. I've loved writing this series so much! Thank you for your patience and kindness. please leave feedback, I love hearing from you guys.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

“So are you and Joel going to work it out?” 

It was a question bearing on your mind for months. You really didn’t want to hear it from Ellie.

You and Joel had officially been broken up for three months after seeing each other for over a year. It was never a concrete thing, the foundation of your relationship was cracked due to some unresolved trauma from both of your pasts. Joel was in the same boat as you when it came to not being able to cope with his grief. His daughter being taken from him so young, the horrors he went through trying to survive the end of the world, and of course the deep and complex relationship he had with Ellie. You had a lot of unsettled trauma from losing your entire family and being alone for most of your life. You also always had this sinking feeling that he was not telling you the full story about the last couple years. He seemed hesitant to discuss how he found Ellie in the first place. You could tell there was some awkward tension and unresolved issues between the two of them. You just wanted to help.

He started drinking a whole lot towards the tail end of the relationship and you weren’t sure why. He’d stumble back home drunk, not even able to kiss you goodnight. 

It was getting complicated. He was terrible about communicating his feelings and you were too stubborn to accept you were ever wrong. 

Of course, there were good times. Like all of the Saturday nights going out dancing with Tommy and Maria. The game nights with Ellie. Sitting outside on his front porch with nothing but his guitar, making you sing songs only your father would know.

You missed him terribly. But you knew it was for the better. It has to be for the better. 

Ellie sits next to you at the annual Christmas party which was hosted by Maria and Tommy. They usually did it at their house, but with a toddler, it just didn’t seem realistic there anymore. So instead, they had it at the large food hall and invited all of Jackson. 

You glance over at her, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol you’d been consuming. 

That was another thing. You couldn’t stop drinking, now. It was the only way you could get to sleep at night. You had even started going to the Tipsy Bison every night to get wasted and on some rare occasions, have a guy take you home. 

You were almost positive Joel was sleeping with one of the other patrol leaders too, a girl named Kelly. She had made eyes at him before you two got together. You’d seen them around a couple times, just talking and getting close. The first time you saw them, you got wasted at the Bison and threw up your entire breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

It only made you want to get over him faster, so having those guys take you home was a distraction. But you’d never fully admit that.

“I don’t know, kid,” Is all you could think to say to Ellie. Your mind was muddled with stupid emotions and disgusting whiskey. 

“He’s nicer when you’re around. Now, he’s just… angry.”

You felt bad. But you couldn’t fall back into that routine with Joel. Fight, makeup, fight again. There was an extreme disconnect in communication. It was exhausting. 

You stand up on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go grab ‘nother drink. You want somethin’?”

Ellie was technically underage but you knew she drank with her friends sometimes. She looked at you with a bit of contempt. 

“No, thanks.”

You shrug, sauntering back over to the bar. 

You notice a familiar silhouette at the end of the bar, but don’t bother glancing that direction. You knew he was watching you and Ellie talking a second ago, his eyes always trailing you. You didn’t want to look over and see Kelly beside him, so you act like he isn’t even there. 

“Another whiskey, pleaseeee,” You beg the bartender standing nearby. He doesn’t look too happy about serving you more, but you had lost all sense of self control about an hour ago and he knew that by the look on your face. He pours you some more dark liquor and sends you on your way. 

As soon as you turn to walk away, you spot another familiar face walking directly towards you. 

Josh Hall.

He was one of the guys you slept with. He was a nice guy, kinda. He was a know it all, shallow, and a bit arrogant. So maybe not a nice guy. 

You slept with him twice, both times when you were drunk. From what you could remember, he didn’t make you cum. 

He was only a bit taller than you, blonde hair and blue eyes. He was cute enough to get into your pants. But every time you thought about any other man, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t Joel.

“Hey there,” You try not to slur, “How are ya?”

“Hi beautiful,” He grabs your hand, pulling you in for what you assume is a kiss. You wince, directing his lips to your cheek. He presses his chapped lips against your skin. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to avoid the gazes of the people around you. You could feel his eyes on you even from 50 feet away. 

“Thought you’d wanna come dance with me,” He has his hand slipping around your waist. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. He knew you were drinking, your glass swaying right in front of his face.

Your red flags are raising quickly. Josh never approached you any other times of the day. Never during patrols, never just around town. He only showed interest when you had a glass of liquor in your hand. 

“I am actually bringing this drink to someone, so please get off of me,” You lie, trying to get him away. 

You had to be patient with a guy like Josh. He could be pushy sometimes, so you had to be firm but sweet. You wouldn’t want to start a stir at a party with a bunch of families, right?

But he wasn’t letting go. 

His eyes were piercing into yours. You could tell he was drinking, his eyes a bit glassy like yours. You hadn’t even seen him come into the party. It’s like he just appeared to make you mad. 

“Just have one dance with me,” His breath stunk of alcohol and unbrushed plaque. You wanted to vomit.

“No, I need to bring this drink to someone.”

His grip is getting progressively tighter and he’s walking you backward.

“Who? Who’s drink is it? New boyfriend?”

You swallow hard, not knowing who to say.

“It’s for Ellie.”

He smirks, “You givin’ an underage dyke a drink? Don’t think her daddy would like that.”

Something in you flips. Rage. Pure unadulterated rage. Your body doesn’t even give your brain a moment to mull over your next move. You throw the drink on the ground, the glass shattering all over the floor. You step back, finally breaking away from him. 

“What did you just fuckin’ say?!”

He releases you, backing up. He had this offended look on his face, like you had kicked a puppy. 

Liar.

It made you even more mad.

“What did you say, Josh?” You emphasize his name, never breaking eye contact, “You fuckin’ call her that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

You stomp forward, your hands reaching up to him. You had never snapped so quickly in your life. Something about him saying negative about Ellie made your protective maternal instinct go into overdrive. Ellie meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last year with her and Joel.

Your fingers wrap around his scrawny little throat. He was trying to back away, but a table stopped all his movements. He was pinned. 

“You fuckin’ dare talk about her or anyone I fuckin’ know, I will make sure you never utter another wor-“ You feel hands around your waist, pulling you back from possibly choking him out. It almost takes the wind out of you. Your hands let go of his neck, but not without digging your fingernails into his skin. 

You are so blindsided, you don’t even know who has a grip on you. 

“Hey, hey, stop!” His voice is familiar. Almost Joel’s, but not. 

No, because Joel is instead grabbing Josh from the spot you pinned him to. You look back and see Tommy, his face panicked and confused.

You watch as Joel grabs Josh by the shirt, throwing him towards the middle of the dance floor. A bunch of people are standing around watching Josh stumble, trying to gain his composure. The music completely stops, bringing the hall to complete silence. Joel doesn’t give him enough time to stand up straight. You try to push Tommy off of you, but he’s got an iron grip on you. 

“What did he say?” Joel yells towards you, gesturing towards Josh. Everyone has completely stopped what they are doing to watch the scene unfold. 

You look towards where Ellie is, her face twisted in horror. Jesse stands next to her, his face serious. You know this is probably embarrassing for her, so all the anger leaves your body, replaced with guilt and shame.

“Joel,” You warn, “Please.”

Joel was extremely protective when you two were together. Ever since you two split, he has tried his very hardest to not snap. Once he sees a man’s hands on you, though, he can’t help but let fury fill his entire being. Tonight was no exception except this time, you got violent before he could. Which only meant you had no other choice. You usually keep a calm exterior, trying not to step on anyone’s toes. When you drink, you’re actually sweeter and more complacent. 

“What did he say?”

Instead of you saying anything, Maria steps in. She wedges herself between Joel and Josh, making sure neither one of them takes another step. 

“Cool it!” She yells, her eyes flying over to you being held back by Tommy. 

“He better get his ass out of this tow-“

“Shut it, Joel,” She warns, reaching out for his arm, “Let’s take a walk.”

“‘m not going anywhere,” His voice is booming which sends a chill down your spine, “Get this fucker out of here and away from her.”

He looks towards you, Tommy slowly loosening his grip on your upper body. You wiggle out, trying to steady your breathing. You didn’t even realize that you were panting like a dog.

You’ve completely sobered up. The dizziness you feel is just from adrenaline.

Maria guides Josh to the door, listening to him rant about his side of the story. You look back at Tommy, who’s obviously taken aback by the way you snapped. He’s never seen you so mad.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tommy. He just said something about Ellie,” You whisper it, trying to ensure Joel didn’t hear. You know well enough that if he found out the words Josh uttered, he would have a pistol between the poor guy’s eyes. 

“I think you need to go home and cool down,” Tommy suggests, “This is not the place for that.”

You felt horrible. Everyone’s eyes were still on you. You nod, understanding Tommy’s reasonings for practically kicking you out of the party. He gestures Joel over, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“I’m gonna have someone walk her home,” He nods to you, “Would you be willin’ to or should I ask Jesse?”

Joel shakes his head, “I’ll get her home.”

“I can get home myself,” You retort, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You didn’t want Jesse or Joel walking you home, it felt like a walk of shame times a million.

“Get her home safe, Joel,” Tommy remarks, tapping you on the shoulder. He wasn’t giving you an option. 

You step over the shattered glass, while Joel guides you to the door. You felt so humiliated, not knowing what face to make at the people who were scowling you. So you keep your head down, grabbing your coat from the chair beside Ellie. Joel is trailing behind you. You look up for a second, meeting Ellie’s brown eyes. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” You mumble, “For everything.”

She shakes her head, her lips thin, “It’s okay. Get home safe.”

Joel taps your shoulder, nodding his head towards the door. You put your winter coat on, pulling out your hair that’s stuck between it and your thermal.

It was snowing, soft pillows of white ice covering all of Jackson. You breathe out a loud sigh when you get outside, while Joel shuts the dinner hall door. 

You didn’t know what to say to him, really. You felt like he shouldn’t have stepped in, but deep down you were glad he did because it probably put the fear of God into Josh. Maybe he won’t ever speak to you again.  

When you start on your journey home, you and Joel are silent. You hadn’t spoken much since your separation. You two got into a huge blowout fight in which the both of you said some pretty terrible things to each other. It was the first and last time you yelled at Joel. 

“Why can’t I just make my own decisions?”

“You almost got yourself killed! You almost got Ellie killed. How the fuck am I supposed to react? Just let you two back on patrol like nothin’ happened!? No fuckin’ way. You’re not going back out unless I’m with you.”

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, “I had it under fucking control, Joel! You always find ways to blame me for something! I brought her home. I did. You weren’t fucking there because you were too fucked up to even get up this morning,” You knew that stung, the way his face twisted in disgust, “You’re the last person on Earth to make decisions for me or Ellie.”

You struck a nerve, you could tell by the deadly serious look on his face. 

“You don’t know what’s good for, Ellie. Stop actin’ like you fuckin’ do. You have manipulated her to believe she knows what’s good for her. She doesn’t, okay?”

He couldn’t be serious. 

“You’re not even her real father, Joel. She is going to remember all the times you shut her down and made her feel like she didn’t have a choice. Is it really worth your pride?”

He slams his fist on the table, “Get the fuck out!”

You accept that as the end of the conversation and the relationship. 

You start to walk through the slush, knowing you had a good 15 minute walk home. You felt sick with anxiety.

“How have you been doin’?” 

You laugh, “Fuckin’ fantastic, Joel.”

“Yeah me too,” He lies. He clears his throat before continuing, “So, what did he say?”

“Drop it Joel,” You warn, a hiccup coming up your throat, “Let’s just not talk about it ever again.”

“I’ll get it out of ya one day,” He comments, zipping up his jacket some more. You shake your head, chuckling a bit at the absurdity.

“You didn’t have to step in,” You add, “I had it handled. Like I always do.”

His pace picks up, matching yours. 

“Wrapping your hands around ‘nother guys throat is not very you, darlin’,” He says, grabbing your arm to halt your next step, “He had to of said something pretty bad for you to throw your drink and choke him out in front of a bunch of people.”

You knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to lure it out of you, but you weren’t caving. He was good at making it seem like there was no choice other than tell him what happened. 

“Guess you’ll never know, Miller,” You tug your arm away, “Tommy said you’d walk me home, not interrogate me.”

He huffs, “You are so stubborn.”

You stop mid step, turning to look him in the eye. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

“You’re the one to talk, Joel.”

“And you need to quit the drinkin’. Makes you sloppy.”

His tone was condescending and for him to call you out on drinking? No fucking way.

“You sure were sloppy the last couple times I saw you drinkin’. Remember the four patrol shifts you had last summer you couldn’t get to cause you were too fucked up the night before? Or how about a couple weeks ago when you tried to fight that guy at the Bison?”

He takes note of your aggressive tone. You weren’t just going to cower your head and take his shit. 

Maybe you were using the drinking to not think about the fact that you missed his stupid ass. Maybe it was to medicate the anxiety that rattled your bones every time he slipped your mind. Either way, he was such a hypocrite for trying to use that against you. Make it seem like he wasn’t doing that same thing when you were still together. 

“I’ve quit all the drinkin’… and hey, he called you a name,” He mumbles, “Had to put him in his place.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his statement, “What do you mean he called me a name?”

He continues to walk, almost trying to physically dodge the question. But if he was going to be persistent, you were going to be, too.

“Joel-“

“Garrett said you were whoring yourself out to him and a couple of the other guys. Called you a slut,” He confesses, not looking towards you at all.

You felt sick to your stomach. Garrett was a guy you had patrolled with, a guy who seemed really nice to your face. The same guy Joel gave a black eye to. 

“I’ve only slept with like, two other people.”

You could tell it rattled him a bit. It was a statement he couldn’t be mad at, really. He was a man with needs, too. 

“Well, the word’s gettin’ around. He said you told him he had the best dick you’ve ever had,” He laughed as the words slipped his tongue, “God knows that’s ain’t true.”

You push your hands into your pockets, “I never slept with him. It’s only been Josh and…”

You stop yourself, instantly feeling sick to your stomach at the next name that almost came out your mouth. It was something you regretted so deeply in every fiber of your being. Something you tried to forget the very second the interaction.

“Who else?”

“No one,” You say, trying to steady your voice, “None of your business.”

“It was Jesse, wasn’t it?”

Caught.

You cough, clearing your throat. You never wanted to talk about this to anyone, let alone Joel. You were desperate and no other guys really made you feel appreciated. 

The wind picks up, which causes the snow to billow towards your face and take your breath away.

“Can we just,” You shake your head, trying to get the hair out of your face, “Can we just discuss this when we get to my house?”

He leads the way, moving quickly. You follow close behind, almost using his body as a shield from the snowstorm. When you finally see your house through your frosted lashes, you feel some sense of relief. 

Joel walks up to your front porch, gesturing to you to lead the way. You knew you’d have to light a fire in the living room and warm up the small abode, so once you open the door, you rush to your fireplace. You stack wood, not taking much mind to Joel who’s kicking off his shoes and removing his coat. 

You didn’t want to do this with him. You didn’t want to discuss anything, explain yourself, or hash out any unresolved bullshit. After the night you had, you wanted to carry yourself straight to bed. 

“Want help?”

You crouch down, flicking a match into the pit, igniting the old coals. 

“No, I got it, Joel.”

He huffs, sitting down on your slouchy red couch. Nothing in your house was particularly nice, but you kept it clean and tidy. Everything had a spot, except for the man taking up space before you.

“So,” He slaps his hands on his knees, “You want to explain or?”

“No Joel,” You respond, “I don't feel like I owe you an explanation, truthfully. I honestly don’t wanna rehash all this shit with you.”

His lips tighten into a half smirk, “Okay, that’s fine.”

Silence fills the room again. You were shocked he didn’t press it further, but a bit relieved. 

“Just wanna ask one thing,” He grumbles. You stand up straight, shimmying your coat down your arms.

“What?”

“Was his dick the best one you’ve ever had?”

You feel like all the air has left your body. 

“What?”

“Jesse. Josh. Were they the best you’ve ever had?”

Hearing their names made you cringe. You knew your answer, but you wonder if you should indulge him in the truth.

He knew it already, but he wanted to hear it from your lips. The haze and exhaustion from the crazy evening makes the confession slip from your lips. 

“Joel,” You whisper, “You know damn well they aren’t shit compared to you.”

It’s like you blinked and he’s on you. His hands slide up your waist, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a bruising kiss. You don’t pull away because this is what you’ve been wanting. 

The sex with Joel was like nothing else. Maybe your relationship was rocky. Maybe you hated the way he spoke to you sometimes. Maybe you hated the way he tried to control every little thing. 

But the sex made it all worth it.

The way his hands molded around your body. His lips trailing up and down from your neck to your calves. He knew your body better than you probably knew it yourself. He never walked away from an encounter without making you cum several times. He could play you like his guitar. 

You two are falling all over your furniture to make it to the couch. He sits down, holding you close while you straddle his thighs. He’s not letting up, his kisses feverish and hurried. 

You pull away to catch your breath. His pupils are huge and his lips are already swollen. 

“What are we doing?” You whisper, using your thumb to brush across his pink lips. 

“This is what we do, baby,” He grabs your ass, pulling you flush with his crouch, “We fight and fuck. That’s all we do.”

You lean up, grinding down on his growing bulge. 

“I shouldn’t want to, but fuck,” You throw your head back, trying to ease the throbbing you feel, “I always want you, Joel.”

“I always want you too, sweetheart,” His hand finds the back of your neck, rubbing circles into the sides while you grind yourself on his lap, “I don’t want any other pussy but yours. No one else compares.”

You smile in sick pleasure, “We are so fuckin’ toxic, Joel Miller.”

He laughs, pulling your head forward. Your eyes meet his and it’s a sudden realization that you two are just actually insane. That after all the bullshit you put each other through, your horniness always wins. He wants you just as much as you want him, and yet you two can never figure out how to work problems out like actual adults.

“Tell me you don’t fuckin’ like it that way,” He trails a kiss up your neck to earlobe, “And I’ll stop right now. Leave you alone forever. Keep your dirty little secret that you like to fuck guys half your age.”

The rise Joel Miller can get out of you should be studied. He knows exactly how to push every button you’ve ever had, even the one’s you didn’t know existed. The idea of people knowing you fucked Jesse makes your stomach twist, especially since he was Ellie’s friend. 

You and Joel’s age gap never really bothered you. Maybe it was because he was older than you, but he didn’t feel that much older than you. You felt ancient with Jesse and even Josh. Joel made you feel like you were on the same level with a man.

You stop grinding on him, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him back to meet your gaze. He’s smiling a shit eating grin, knowing you’re pissed. 

“You’re the guy who’s fucking people half your age,” You lift yourself a bit, looking down at him with half lidded eyes, “And you flaunt it. You love having me as your little play thing. Y-”

“And you fuckin’ love it.”

“I’m talking,” You shush him, “You are going to let me talk.”

You grab his belt undoing it like you used to almost every night, “You’re going to sit back like a good boy, and let me remind you why this is the only pussy you want to fuck.”

Joel has never seen you like this. It’s like the distance between you two gave you time to gain more confidence. You tested him now, and he kind of liked it. He’d never say but he loved when you were bratty to him. Sure, before you were a little smart ass, but you were practically dominating him. It was a good change of pace. 

“Talk ‘bout toxic, baby girl,” He groans, “You know I can’t sit back and be a good boy.”

You use one hand to reach into his pants and grab his hard on. 

“You’re going to learn today,” You smile, “Because if you don’t, you’ll walk home with blue balls and you can call Kelly over to fuck you.”

He chuckles a bit, “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

You stop your actions, looking at his smug fucking face. 

“You literally just interrogated me about how I fucked half of Jackson,” You spit, “I can continue adding to the tallies. Have you watch me whore myself out to all of your patrol partners.”

“You ain-”

“Maybe I’ll get even bolder,” You continue, “Maybe I’ll even try to fuck the other Miller boy.”

You were completely fibbing. You’d never cross that line. You loved Maria and you respected her more than any other person in Jackson. You just really wanted to get under Joel’s skin.

And you quickly realize you did.

He flips you on your back and cages you under his arms. 

“You’re a fuckin’ dirty slut,” He is grabbing at your pants, yanking them down. Your jeans were skin tight and wet, but it took no time at all for him to tear them off your body, “You ain’t in charge here.”

“Let me up,” You demand, pushing at his chest. He wasn’t budging, he was on a mission. He tears off your underwear, exposing your wet slit. You didn’t even realize how dripping you were for him. 

“Look at you,” He teases, “Fuckin’ pathetic. Tryin’ to say you’d fuck my brother?” 

He shakes his head, using his fingers to trace up and down your slit. You wanted to scream out, but your mind goes blank. You were quaking with anticipation. You surrender to him pinning you against the couch. You’d get him back eventually.

“He’d never fuck a slut like you,” He continues, “No, he doesn’t know how to handle someone like you.”

“And you do?”

“I’ve been at it for awhile,” He sticks a single finger in you, making a squelching sound as he does, “Think ‘m gettin’ pretty good at ruinin’ you. Puttin’ you in your place.”

You finally moan out in pleasure, which makes his face twist in satisfaction.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve missed how tight you are,” He groans, “Squeezin’ my fingers and cock so good.”

You’re practically soaking the couch with how wet you are already. All the build up and smack talk really put you in bind, his fingers driving you absolutely wild. 

He eases out of you, tracing your body to begin lifting off your shirt. He throws your shirt across the room, noticing you were actually wearing a padded bra. You smile at his realization. 

“Found one of these,” You gesture, toying with the straps, “Bet you’d never see the day.”

You had gotten used to never wearing a bra and Joel usually enjoyed it that way. You could never find a comfortable one and all your old ones were ragged and gross. On a recent patrol, you found a red bra in your size in an abandoned home. You stole it, tucking it carefully in your backpack to try on back home. Lucky enough, it fit and made your boobs sit better than they ever have. 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters, lining the bra with his fingers, “As pretty as it is, it needs to go.”

You reach around your back, undoing it without another word. As soon as it is off, his fingers make work at pebbling your nipples. He smacked one with a gentle open hand. You squeak at the impact, watching Joel’s eyes revel at your bare body. He loved seeing you like this, crumbling under his touch. 

He props himself up on his knee which is wedged between your thighs. He pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it on the coffee table next to him. His buttons are already undone after you found yourself with your hands down his pants, earlier. He pulls those down too, letting them pool around his ankles. 

“For being a brat,” He nudges you, making you move your legs and plant them on the ground. You sit up, his hand ripping you off of your spot on the couch. He positions you between his legs, his cock standing up waiting for you. You sit back on your heels, enjoying the view. 

“You’re gonna try to be a good girl and suck me off.”

You smile eagerily, slowly running your hands up his thighs and to the base of his cock. Instead of getting straight to it, you bring the head of his cock to your lips and kiss it softly. You toy with the idea of completely ignoring his demands, but you come to the conclusion that you’d probably get nothing if you did that. And you wanted him so bad. You thought about this moment for so long. 

“Stop playin’,” He groans, watching you with his arms laying across the back of your couch. He looked like one of those statues you saw in old textbooks when you were a teenager. The ones you’d see at an old art museum scuplted from marble. The ones with the small dicks. That’s truly the only thing that differentiated the two. Joel was massive. 

“I’m not playing,” You disagree, “Shush.”

Before you can continue your tease, he grabs the top of your head. He is usually pretty assertive, but good God, he was not letting you get away with anything. You widen your lips, taking his cock into your mouth. Instead of progressing down his shaft slowly, he makes you take it fully down your throat. It causes you to gag a bit. You pull back, only for him to push you down again. 

You grip onto his thighs, digging your nails in a bit. You knew you would probably leave marks with how hard you were pressing into his skin. He winces, but continues to practically face fuck you. 

“You don’t tell me to shush, little girl,” He moans, watching your saliva drench his cock. He finally lets you pull up off him, holding your face in the process, “You hear me? You take this cock like a good girl.”

“Yes,” You manage to say, your throat already hurting from taking him in. 

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now come sit on my face.”

You oblige, standing up to let him reposition himself. 

You two have done this maybe twice. Each time you practically suffocated him, but he fucking loved every second of lapping you up. You knew that you were in for a ride with the way he was toying with you. 

He lays on his back, his hands keen on pulling your legs up to his shoulders. Your ass is positioned on his chest, his face between your thighs. You look down at him, sitting up straight before you ease down, letting your pussy take up the bottom half of his face. 

He dives in instantly, his mouth hungrily devouring your pussy. You scream out, letting your body relax against him. His facial hair brushes across your folds and inner thighs while his tongue begins tracing your insides. He stops at your clit, flattening his tongue and pressing forward. You couldn’t control yourself, sinking yourself down further onto him. His nose nudges your folds before he runs his mouth down your slit again, so his nose is now pressed against your clit. He moans into you, the vibrations sending you into ecstasy. 

You cum, your juices flowing down his face and your legs. He is moaning so loud, mewling at the fact that you never warned him you were about to cum. 

He taps your thighs, advising you to get off of him. You shakingly remove yourself from his face, standing up to look down at him. He was so hard and his lips and beard were soaked with your cum. 

“You fuckin’ squirted on me,” He laughs, sitting up. You felt kind of embarrassed, like you couldn’t even contain yourself for more than 2 minutes. “I’ll forgive you since it was hot. No cummin’ without permission.”

“Okay, sorry.” 

Even though you weren’t sorry. 

Your legs were practically numb and still quaking from your orgasm. You’re breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure. He notices your quivering and starts pulling you into his lap. You widen your legs, mounting his thick thighs. You look down at his cock, it sliding so perfectly between your pussy lips. He was a fucking dream. 

He doesn’t even say anything, just watching you try to catch your breath. 

“Relax baby,” He mumbles, “We haven’t even gotten started, yet.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it a bit before having you lift off of his thighs. He eases you up and onto the head of his dick. He spits into his hand, coating his shaft with it.

One thing about Joel, is he’s still the biggest you’ve ever had. No one ever got close to him. 

The stretch makes you moan out in pure euphoria. You missed it so much. It was something you craved almost every night. 

“Fuck,” You whimper, “Never gets old.”

He laughs at your admission, “Likewise.”

He snaps his hips against yours, settling into a slower pace. He was dragging it out, letting your walls become accustomed to him again. After a minute of slow strokes, he picks up his pace. He repositions, kneeling with his one leg extended out to the floor. You’re lifted up in the air partially, grinding down as he meets your motions with his strokes. Your hands are wrapped around his neck, your fingers finding his hair. His hands and grappling at your sides while you two moan in unison. 

You two were finally on the same page, not bickering, just fucking out your feelings. You felt the aggression, resentment, and fear dwindling away from you as you sweat out the brutal pace he’s bringing to the table. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” He sighs in between his cock hitting you at the perfect angle, “I only want this.”

You don’t think to hard about it, whimpering your response. 

“Please let me cum. Please.”

“So pretty when you beg.”

He’s drilling into you at this point, your tits bouncing right into his face. You lazily throw your head back, letting him take one of your nipples into his mouth. You’re so overly sensitive, you don’t know what to say other than beg him to let you release. 

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum.”

He releases your tit with a pop, “Cum for me, baby.”

After two more strokes, you’re falling apart in his arms. He wraps himself around you, fucking you through the second orgasm. 

He’s a whimpering mess, chasing his own release. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck.”

“Cum for me, Joel. Moan out for me.”

His deep and guttral moan sends shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cum release inside you, while his arms grow tighter around you. After he finishes, he lays you back onto the arm of the couch. His cock still rests inside you, twitching at every little movement your hips made. 

He swipes his forehead for sweat, marveling at you. He looks so endearing, like he didn’t just fuck your brains out and call you a bunch of names. The thought makes you giggle.

“What?”

You shake your head, touching his chest with your fingers, “You’re just handsome.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

You swat him while he slowly eases out of you. You whine a bit, letting the heat from the fireplace warm your body as oppose to Joel’s body heat. 

He stands up, abandoning you on the couch as he picks up his discarded clothes. You prop yourself up, trying to sit up but your body feels like jello. 

Your really didn’t want to watch him go. 

“You should stay.”

His back is turned away from you. He freezes as he grabs his shirt from the coffee table where it landed. 

He clears his throat, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.”

It was true. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted so badly for this to change everything. But it was just sex. Exactly how this trainwreck started. 

He starts to get dressed. You didn’t want to take that as his answer, but deep down you knew this is how things worked. You’d been through it with Joel before. You just had to wait for Ellie to come in and call you his “lady friend” and have him demand you “go get dressed”. It was the same thing every time. You thought it meant something but it really didn’t. 

Once he slips his shirt over his head, he walks back to sit next to your naked frame. He brings his hand up to trace your leg, which is perfectly nudged up against him. 

You really don’t want to believe all the things running through your mind. You craved an explanation.

“You said you only wanted this, Joel,” You grab a blanket from the back of the couch to cover yourself. You could tell he was at war with his thoughts, “Why can’t we start again? Do I seriously not mean anything to you?”

He realizes you’re pleading with him. He felt so guilty and it was written all over his face. 

“Of course you mean somethin’ to me,” He acknowledges, “But we can’t keep doin’ what we were doin’. We always end up screamin’ bout somethin’ stupid. I don’t want to make you unhappy. You deserve to be happy.”

You contemplate for a moment, unsure how to respond. 

“If being with you means screamin’ about something stupid and fighting over patrols and drinking too much and bickering over Ellie’s future,” You huff out, trying to not let the hitch in your throat become obvious, “Then I want it. I want it all. All the shit, all the fights. I want it because it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything immediately. The silence was deafening.

“We can try,” He mutters, “But we gotta stop tryin’ to fix everythin’ with sex. We gotta like… talk about things.”

You laugh out loud, noting his seriousness. You two were seriously thinking the same things. 

“Can we talk about our problems, like, during the sex?”

You were completely joking. You wait for his response, but it comes with him shaking his head. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Your boobs press against his now clothed chest. You feel his hands slide up and down your sides. You groan in pleasure, his touch sending chills down your spine. You wanted it like this. Forever. 

He clears his throat, “Well if I’m sticking around… round two?”

THE END.

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101 @cool-iguana @bbyanarchist @am-3-thyst

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #cool about it #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #the last of us smut

[jerktournament]

ROUND ONE - Byakuya Togami (Danganronpa) VS Yesod (Lobotomy Corporation/Library of Ruina)

(The contestant image for Yesod is from Lobotomy Corporation, but this entry is for both renditions of the character.)

!!! PROPAGANDA BELOW !!!

BYAKUYA: "- His title is literally, get this, "ultimate affluent progeny" - Fucking look at him /hj - Treats everyone as inferior in every way, even when they're trying to solve a murder he goes "how did YOUUU figure this out before MEEE???? >:0" - Constantly has an "Me vs. Them" mentality about everything so he feels the need to prove himself to be superior - Messes with crime scenes because it would "make them more interesting" (purposefully incriminating someone else, who he didn't like) Actual quotes by him - "I'm only here to get breakfast. I have neither need nor desire to talk to you. Now withdraw." - "You're like a child lost in the woods, you know that? A total waste of space." - "You know, I still just can't believe it... That an uneducated, brain-dead, useless piece of garbage like you has survived this long." - "You have only yourself to blame—you came to me with your tragic little story. I didn't ask you to. This is the real world, not some romantic fantasy fairytale.""

YESOD: "AAHGH HOW DO I EVEN BEGIN TTHERE'S JUST. yesod. probably spoilers here but when you first meet him in Lobotomy Corporation I think one of the earliest things he does is make a jab at your fashion sense even though it's universally agreed by new players that his outfit is a disaster (although he dresses like that for fear of contamination and his Trauma!). He's cold to mostly everyone and is very strict, rules-following kind of guy, and people often see him as emotionless and heartless, coming up with the nickname "The Viper" for him as a result of that! BUT!!! BUT!!!! LISTEN EVEN IF HE'S MEAN. EVEN IF HE'S COLD. HE'S LIKE THIS BECAUSE HE HAS TO BE!!! He has so much unresolved trauma in his past of getting too close with am employee and befriending them and losing them because he wasn't strict enough on safety regulations and let them off with a pass because they were friends. AND NOW HE'S CLOSED AND WITHDRAWN AND OBSESSIVE OVER SAFETY PROTOCOL BECAUSE HE'S SCARED AND HE REALLY REALLY DOES CARE ABOUT HIS EMPLOYEES!!! It's hinted that he doesn't like the nickname Viper but he accepts it because it makes him out to be the respected person he wants to be!!!! He praises the real AI of the corporation, Angela, for being cold and emotionless(which is ANOTHER bag of repressed trauma worms) and wishes he could feel nothing like her because HE FEELS TOO MUCH!!! I LOVE HIM SO DEARLY MI AMOR!!! And AND in the second game he's healed a little bit and is still a little mean but the first thing he does THE VERY FIRST THING HE DOES to the protagonist is walk up to him wordlessly and reach up to fix his tie. I'm normal about him. Also he's short. Short people closer to hell or whatever. IDK he's purple ok? :3 Even if he loses IT'S A TESTAMENT TO HIS GROWTH I'M PROUD OF YOU YESOD!!!!!!"

#byakuya togami #yesod #danganronpa #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #drthh #yesod lor #err i think that's all the tags i need? lmk #poll #i like both of these characters man

[fiction-giga]

Built in "Pilwos"

30 Day Blurb Challenge - list link here

Day 15 - Making sure to be quiet when they fall asleep

Dad!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Warnings - Mentions of manipulation and coercion

Word Count - 0.7k

Delilah was a notorious chest sleeper. Anytime she saw you or Eddie lounging, she was pouncing on one of you and crashed right on your chest.

She even calls your boobs, “Built-in pilwos” which is adorable in its own right. However, the only downfall to having your little one want to sleep on your chest is the inevitable jealousy of her father.

Eddie was not a fan of his daughter stealing his spot. He tried to work with her on the subject multiple times, pulling the “I’ve know your mother longer” card. You didn’t even have to scold Eddie for using such unfair tactics because Delilah was on it.

Her quick wits usually beat out Eddie's before he could even make it to the starting line. She would even cross her arms and puff out her lips to really sell her point. He would give up due to easily being frustrated, usually mutter something like, "I raised her too well." as he walked away in defeat.

“She will not let up! I don’t even know who taught her manipulation tactics!” He whined.

“You did! From day one you were teaching her how to get her way.” You giggled at his scrunched up face.

“I wasn’t teaching her to manipulate people, I was teaching her how to survive. It’s a cutthroat world, and I don’t want my daughter living in it without knowing how to work the system.”

But those few times Delilah chose her dad's chest instead of yours, he would eat every second of it up. You would just roll your eyes, not really doing a good job at hiding your jealousy. He would stick his tongue out at you when you would flip him off, both of you making sure to keep quiet as to not disturb the little girl.

Pretty much everytime Delilah chose Eddie, he was asleep not long after she was. The whole thing was kind of incredible.

He could go days without sleeping thanks to past trauma, but as soon as D laid on his chest, he was out like a light. It was actually kind of adorable. The effect your daughter had on Ed was undeniable.

Today was just one of those days. You assumed it was because you were unavailable, tending to some little things around the house. Eddie wasn't occupied at the moment and as soon as Delilah let out the smallest of yawns, he was babying her up a storm. He somehow coaxed her into laying down, fist pumping in the air as she got situated.

You left for five minutes, five minutes, and by the time you got back, Eddie was out. His soft snores mixed with Delilah's soft sighs. Her chubby cheek was squished against her father's worn Megadeth t-shirt, her mouth falling open in a cute little 'o' shape. Eddie's hand rested on her back as he held her in place. His hair was sprawled out on the throw pillow beneath him and his brows were furrowed the tiniest bit.

You smiled down at the two. Your heart ached a bit just from the sheer amount of love you shared for them. Your whole world was sleeping on top of one another on your small couch in the living room of the home you and Eddie had worked so hard to maintain. It was mind-blowing.

With a small sigh of defeat, and the tiniest twinge of betrayal, you reached over to grab the blanket that was folded over the back of the couch cushions. You laid it over the two gently, watching as Delilah stirred a bit in her sleep, snuggling further into Eddie's chest.

You leaned down and give them each a kiss on the forehead. Both hands came to rest on a face, brushing the wild curly hair they both inherited out of their eyes. You knew neither of them liked the tickling feeling very much as they tried to sleep. Just another thing the two had in common. You smiled to yourself as you whispered, "Sleep tight," to the pair before tiptoeing away to resume your housework.

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie x reader #eddie x female reader #eddie x you #eddie x yn

[charmwasjess]

I woke up today and chose violence, so this is my "Rael Averross is Luthen Rael" in Andor endgame theory.

"Calm. Kindness. Kinship. Love. I’ve given up all chance at inner peace. I’ve made my mind a sunless space. I share my dreams with ghosts. I wake up every day to an equation I wrote 15 years ago from which there’s only one conclusion, I’m damned for what I do. My anger, my ego, my unwillingness to yield, my eagerness to fight, they’ve set me on a path from which there is no escape. I yearned to be a savior against injustice without contemplating the cost and by the time I looked down there was no longer any ground beneath my feet." - Luthen Rael (on why he's a fucking Jedi)

Luthen Rael, a Jedi?! Yeah kinda really seems like it

I'm hardly the first person to have picked up the hints that Luthen Rael was a Jedi at one point. He whips out a kyber crystal like it's nothing, specifies that his whole life changed 15 years ago (count back to Order 66), perceives that his embrace of anger instead of a list of ideals that sound a lot like the Jedi code is a failing, and the "share my dreams with ghosts" line sure does sound like the survivor of a genocide that targeted a specifically psychic community of people. He carries around that stupid wooden "walking stick" thing that's obviously a barely-disguised lightsaber. His fucking SHIP has a big lightsaber beam for christsakes.

In a universe where several Jedi do survive to go on to help the Rebellion under assumed identities, it's not a stretch to think that there's a conveniently-placed, established one still on Coruscant working for the proto-Rebellion in the years leading up to Andor.

So why do I think Luthen is Rael Averross, Dooku's first apprentice?

The clue in their similar names would certainly keep with the tradition of Jedi in hiding barely changing their names (looking at you "Ben" Kenobi who dresses in ... a Jedi robe.) But there's more than that.

The last time anyone saw Rael Averross was the end of the Master and Apprentice novel, where he's at the end of a 7-year-mission out of the Temple, faced with the possibility of joining Dooku, and uncertain about his future with the Jedi Order. While he ultimately doesn't decide to follow in Dooku's footsteps, his future after that does not seem clear. We don't see him again, not even in Tales of the Jedi. We know he was brought to the Temple very late (at age 5) and judging from Pijal, is very comfortable living outside the Temple as a regular guy. We know he has some difficulty feeling a sense of belonging in the Jedi Order, which seems to have worsened after Dooku left. If he left the Jedi at some point after Pijal, as he seems to have at least considered, he could have been well placed to survive Order 66.

There are other small details that could hint at their shared identity. Luthen's profession, running an antique shop full of very significant prequel easter eggs, fits with some backstory - Dooku's preoccupation with artifacts and Rael Averross's likely exposure to them. In fact, the Jedi prophecy holocrons that Dooku, Qui-Gon, and Rael all seem to obsess over at various points are even literally present, stashed in his shop. He doesn't speak with a Coruscanti accent. He's in possession of a blue kyber crystal (Averross fights with a blue lightsaber.) Rael Averross is politically connected from his time as regent on Pijal; Luthen Rael also utilizes such political connections. Luthen Rael even has a trusted, young female protégée and confidant -- if you want to go all into Rael Averross's Lost Daughter Trauma.

Both Dooku: Jedi Lost (2019) and the Master and Apprentice (2019) novels which came out ahead of Andor's 2022 release date go out of their way to flesh out the character, place him in Dooku's inner circle, and detail points of connection like the artifacts and holocron study. In a meta way, I wondered why they were spending so much book time on a relatively minor character only tangentially related to characters who get screentime. (For example, new canon hasn't touched any of Qui-Gon's previous apprentices, and if the point was just to explore Dooku's other students, Komari and Galidraan would tie in with the Jango Fett storyline and the Mandalorians.) These choices aren't random or at the author's whim; in an interview, Cavan Scott of Dooku: Jedi Lost infamy mentions he was specifically told to stay away from Dooku and Rael's apprentice days in that book. Someone in the greater Star Wars content ecosystem was paying attention to this character. Why?

Why not?

I think the biggest argument that he's not Rael Averross is the physical appearance - Claudia Gray describes Rael as short and "tan"/dark skinned, Stellan Skarsgård is a a 6'3 Swede. Probably that should stop my argument right there, but unfortunately, it wouldn't be the first time Star Wars has retconned right over a fairly large detail like that, and frankly, has a problem doing that more often with nonwhite characters. (*making direct eye contact with Clone Wars's take on Sifo-Dyas, but even Quinlan Vos occasionally gets white washed*)

Ultimately, I don't think that Andor is the kind of show that will want to show you a Luke Skywalker cameo; in the same way, I have a hard time imagining that if this theory is correct, we'll get more than a nod and a wink confirmation. The show is all about little people coming together to fight the Empire.

But I think there's at least a decent chance that Luthen Rael is a familiar face, and if so, I can't see a better place for one of the disaster lineage to end up.

#rael averross #luthen rael #star wars andor #dooku #star wars theories #star wars meta

[kitkatscabinet]

I loved your Dylan x reader so much, I was wondering if you could write something kinda like this if you’re still taking requests for The Quarry, where after the attacks that night everyone kind of loses contact with eachother just because of all them trying to sort out all their trauma from it and after a small time jump (maybe 2-3 years) the reader and Dylan run into eachother again and they kind of “start over” and he finally makes a move because he regretted never doing it before and that’s like the only thing he hasn’t gotten over from that summer. I hope that makes sense 🫠

Hi, I absolutely am still taking requests for the quarry, in fact, this was my last one so feel free to chuck more my way. I hope you enjoy this one, it's probably my favourite so far and I really enjoyed writing it :)

Genre: tooth rotting fluff

word count: 1307

Warnings: swearing

Three years ago, you had lived through the worst night of your life alongside your fellow counsellors. The only other people that understood what it was you were going through, the only ones that could possibly understand the nightmares, the phobias, the PTSD and everything that came along with surviving that hellish night. Unfortunately, you had lost contact with most of the other survivors following weeks of brutal questioning and detainment by the police. The only two you still had any contact with being Abi and Emma, neither of which you were initially very close with but shared trauma goes a long way in the friendship department apparently.

Your biggest regret, however, wasn’t the actions you’d taken that night, but it was the fact you’d allowed yourself to fall out of contact with Dylan. Memories being the only thing you had of him now and sadly not all of them pleasant. It had taken you over a year before you were able to sleep reliably and even now you still had the occasional panic attacks and nightmares. Fireworks and any similar noises had you hitting the deck like an experienced veteran and touching the back of your neck was a sure-fire way to start a panic attack.

Groaning as you locked to the door of your apartment behind you, a throat clearing had you freezing in disbelief. Slowly you shifted your gaze across the floor making eye contact with a pair of shoes, taking a deep breath you continued to lift your gaze as it eventually met with a nervous Dylan’s face. The pair of you stood in silence for a while him shuffling more and more nervously the longer you stared in disbelief.  

“What the fuck” was what you eventually managed to say, jaw hanging slack “what are you doing here?” You were laughing in disbelief now, stepping closer to him hesitantly before bringing him into a crushing hug. Hysterical laughter bubbling in your throat, pulling back you held your hands on his shoulders “It’s so good to see you, what are you doing here?” you asked. Honestly you weren’t too fussed on how he’d found you too busy taking in his presence, he was here and he was alive and he looked good.

Bringing a nervous hand up to rub the back of his neck he took his time answering you as you ushered him inside the apartment you had just left. “Well, I… um. I’ve been trying to track you down for a while now and I stumbled across one of Emma’s live stories and noticed you were watching and… I kinda just went from there” his anxiety was easily noticeable to you as you sat down beside him on the couch and entwined your hands with his. So elated to see him again he ended up staying for hours as the two of you caught up, not noticing the sun had long gone down. You had found out that both of you had tried college but it had been to much too soon and neither of you had tried to go back since despite how miserable your current job was.

 Glancing at the clock above your kitchen counter you gasped at noticing the time and ended up begging Dylan to stay the night when he revealed he hadn’t found any accommodation yet. You were both a little too tall to comfortably sleep on the couch so you had insisted on sharing your bed much to his embarrassment. But you didn’t mind, secretly thrilled to have him so close as the two of you eventually drifted off to sleep.

You were awoken a few hours later, blearily looking around for the source of whatever had caused to do so. Whimpers and frustrated movements from beside you had you quickly realising what was happening. Sitting up against the headboard you gently manoeuvred him so his head was resting in your lap and you could stroke his hair in an attempt to calm him down, whispering reassurances that he was safe, that you would keep him safe as he clamed down considerably and you fell asleep again.

Waking up the next morning Dylan was incredibly confused at the hand splayed in his face before memories of the previous day came to him and he followed the hand up to the body it was connected to. Sitting up abruptly as he realised the position he was in and accidentally headbutting you in the process and causing you to wake up.

“Ow, what the fuck” you cursed, holding your chin as you opened your eyes to take in Dylan’s panicked expression and the hand cradling his head. Piecing together what had happened you burst into laughter, eventually encouraging him to do the same, before he asked why you were sleeping sitting up. “Oh, you had a nightmare” you gently explained, watching his expression fall at the prospect of keeping you awake and then causing you to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position. Sensing that he needed some comfort just as much as you, you slowly pulled his head into your chest securing your arms around his body so he couldn’t escape. “Hey, it’s ok. I still get them too you know. Last night you just happened to have one instead of me. In fact, that was probably one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. You’ve got nothing to worry about” you promised in a soothing tone.

After that night you’d offered to let him stay with you for a while. Days, turned into weeks, turned into months, Dylan didn’t leave and you never kicked him out. He got his own toothbrush and had clothe sin your drawers. You’d woken up several times to an attempted breakfast made and you would occasionally go out to eat or shop together. Neither of you ever really discussed these changes because you didn’t think the words were needed.

It had been a shitty day at work but you’d come home to Dylan curled up on the couch, wearing a pair of your fuzzy socks and watching one of the Star Wars movies, looked like return of the Jedi but you couldn’t tell. Hearing the door open, he’d shouted you a greeting but hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen causing an intense affection to burn in your chest. Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes, you made a beeline over to him dropping to your knees and placing your chin on the edge of the seat in front of his face.

“Hi” you giggled “Did you have a good day?”

“Hi” he smiled back; movie forgotten for now “it was alright, had Han Solo to keep me company. What about you?” he inquired.

“Pretty shit not gonna lie” you said nose scrunching up “fucking Debbie ruined like 3 orders and tried to blame it on me, the nerve of that cow.”

“Fucking Debbie” Dylan shook his head in offense, smile never leaving. Watching the way his eyes crinkled in happiness you were silent for a moment before

“I love you” you whispered out, bringing up a finger to boop him on the nose.

“I know” he wiggled his eyebrows in response, causing your face to contort in mock outrage. Huffing you made a show of standing to dramatically leave before a set of arms slunk around your waist and pulled you down onto the couch causing a squeal to leave your lips. Wheezing as your weight toppled onto him Dylan whispered into the skin of your neck

“And I love you.” Rolling your eyes at his cheesiness you responded,

“Uh Yeah, I know” you mocked in turn, causing him to snort and dig his fingers into your sides, tickling them mercilessly as you shrieked in laughter, heart full for the first time in three years.

#dylan lenivy #dylan lenivy x reader #dylan lenivy x you #the quarry dylan #the quarry imagine #the quarry oneshot #the quarry

[curdled-blood]

I would like to know your headcanons for Splendor and Fen 👀 Basic stuff like personality and hobbies. I have my own versions of them that I’m in love with, but I love seeing other people’s stuff too. -🎀

OMG I HAVE MY OWN VERSIONS TOO!!! I'm so happy you asked because Fen is one of my favs ever !!!

To start things off it is my version of them used to be humans that died and came back, same with the rest of their family!! I'm not quiet exactly sure how Splendor but I know that Fen's death was a murder that happened due to a series of unfortunate events that happened in his life.. Don't make deals with a man claiming to be the devil, kids.

Personality:

Splendor - to be honest his personality is about what you'd expect. Very much up beat and happy go lucky optimist type deal that has definitely been influenced by past traumas in his life 😃 He's especially peppy around kids and REFUSES to swear cuz yk... but around other adults he kindaaa loosens up a bit but he can still be a bit uptight. Even then, he still has a chaotic side that RARLEY peeks out. Sometimes he gets so wound up that he just eventually breaks down and starts freaking out but he usually finds a way to survive 👍🏻 fighting the urge to call him a prude cuz thats mean but its so truuuuuuuuuue

Offender - Okay so like imagine if Deadpool was more cut off and distant. Flirty, witty, kind of a prick but secretly has a heart of...silver. If you wanna get to know him, and I mean REALLY get to know him, it's pretty much impossible unless you were quite literally hand picked and/or forced upon him (i.e. his proxies *wearing a t-shirt that says ask about my fen proxy ocs*) Bro doesn't even trust his own fucking family, so he tends to be stand-off-ish if that makes sense 😭

I should see what personality types they have 🤔

Hobbies:

Splendor -

Cooking - OKAY BUT YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN WOULD NOT MAKE THEEEE BEST COMFORT FOOD YOU'VE EVER FUCKING TASTED. You eat one of his dishes and suddenly you have fat puppy syndrome. Fat, full, and tired. I like to think him and his family was from Germany and that he specializes in German dishes :D

Baking - Same with cooking, you CANNOT disagree that he'd make the most delicious goodies. He also definitely makes weed brownies, though he may deny it.

Music - Splendorman may not play an instrument like some of his other family members, but boy does he love listening to music. Him and Trenderman both LOOOVE to collect vinyls together <3. Splendor definitely has a record player that he uses RELIGIOUSLY and a phonograph somewhere around his big ass cottage teehee

Tea - OH yeah, ya boys a tea conisour. He has like every tea you can think of AND THEN SOME. he probably has an entire room just for storing all that damn tea.

Offender -

Gardening - Since Fen was a kid he's been absolutely in love with nature, especially flowers specifically. Sometimes he'll spend hours, even entire days, messing around out front of his broken down mansion and about his forest, tending to the flowers and other floura.

Violin - Another hobby Offender has had since he was a small lad!! Over the many years of his existence he has had plenty of time to master the craft of violin playing. Though since his death he stopped playing as often as he used to but he still does every now and then!!

Singing - Fen may not sing often but when he does, he has the voice of an arch fucking angel. He likes singing just fine but if he's being completely honest with himself, he enjoys playing the violin more. Though he does occasionally use his hypnotic voice to lure people in so he can steal their souls but that's business, not a hobby.

Painting - Yet another activity Fen is incredibly skilled in, but does not often indulge in. But since Fen has access to so many different flowers with many varying colors, sometimes he'll make paint to make something insanely beautiful.

Random Fun Fen Fact: After his death, Fen has this snake tattoo implanted on him by the devil that is slowly moving and slithering around his body!!

#curdled headcanons #OMG FIRST ANON???/j? #🎀 #I'm so happy you asked me about my vers of Fen I almost puked./hj #offenderman #splendorman #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #slender family headcanons #slender family #Did I talk to much????

[thefreakydeaky]

After the Thrill is Gone

Part Two

Negan Smith x Reader

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Modern AU

Summary: From the first moment you laid eyes on Negan you were inexplicabley drawn to him. The passion between you is hot and only grows more intense the longer you see each other. There is only one problem, you're both married to other people.

Warnings: Dark Fic , Stalking, Stalker behavior, Smuttyness, Adult Language, I'll add more warnings as I post, so please check the warnings for updates on each chapter.

Three days went by and he was still calling you, texting you, begging you to reconsider. It was hell. You were tempted to give in, but one look at your little ones' happy faces was a good enough motivator to stay strong.

On Friday morning he called incessantly for an entire hour. At the tenth call you picked up.

"Just give me a second, just hear me out-"

"It's over between us."

"Let's talk about this. Meet me at noon. I'll text you the room num-"

"Stop calling me." You interrupted forcefully and blocked his number.

The desire to see him was so strong. To disuade yourself, you spent the day with your mother in law, taking her around town so she could accomplish all her errands.

That night as you lay in bed, you tried not to think about him. Reliving the time you had spent together, some of the hottest sex you had ever had wasn't going to help anything. A particularly sexy memory came to mind and it was hard to push it away. Negan's guttural groans as you had sucked his long cock. His praise -

That's my good girl. You're doing so well. Keep going, Baby. Just like that.

- rang in your ears. Your skin tingled. You shifted onto your side. Your eyes traced the outline of Daryl's face in the dark. He was a handsome man, your husband. There was so much to love about him. He was honest, kind, hard working, responsible. He always treated you with respect. He was a loving and involved father. Only one persistant problem existed in your relationship, his intimacy issues.

You understood that he had a hard childhood. He told you the horror stories about his abusive father and abusive older brother. All the hurt and trauma they had caused him made it hard for him to be emotionally available. This extended even to the physical, in that affectionate touching, from a hug to touching his shoulder made him extremely uncomfortable. He never initiated such contact with you and you felt rejected anytime you had accidentally given into the urge to show a physical sign of affection.

The only time he ever touched you of his own accord it was sexual. You sighed. You weren't unhappy with every aspect of your life together, it was just this one thing. You felt ungrateful for being so upset by it. Despite your attempt to suck it up and ignore the problem, he had noticed a difference in you. You were distant too. Before long you stopped sleeping with him. Things between you became cold and that stole the smile from your face.

Four years ago, you had met Negan and your affair had begun. Then a few months ago, Daryl approached you with the idea that you go to marriage counseling. He warmed your heart speaking passionately about being in love with you and wanting to save your family. You had agreed. It was work and it was slow going, but there was a bit of improvement already.

You hadn't slept with him since your last pregnancy. You didn't think you should start now. It was your fear that he would see you being willing to have sex with him as your relationship being fixed. The last thing you wanted was for him to give up, to stop trying. You didn't know that your marriage would have survived if things continued on the rocky path you had been on. So, you took a deep breath and turned to the opposite side.

••••••••••••••

You put the protection blanket your mother in law had made you on the shopping cart before seating your baby. Then you grabbed your purse and began putting your keys and phone in it. Just as you managed to close the zipper, your phone rang.

You made a grunt of annoyance. You closed the car door then started digging through your purse. By the time you found it, it had stopped ringing.

You sighed. Then you locked your car

and began pushing the cart to the store. Millie sat quietly playing with her favorite toy, a rag doll that had seen better days. Your mom saved it from your childhood and so you passed it down to Millie.

You made it through the produce section before your phone rang again. It was a call from a phone number you didn't recognize. While you knew it was most likely a telemarketer you answered just in case it was important.

"Hello?"

There was no sound. You waited for a second before you spoke again.

"Hello?" You said, pushing your cart down the aisle.

Negan's deep voice said your name.Your breath caught in your throat. It couldn't be. Not again.

"When you stopped answering I couldn't help but think something bad happened to you."

You swallowed nervously.

"I'm fine."

He sighed into the microphone.

"Don't do this to me. Not seeing you is screwing with my head. I don't know about you, but I'm not doing well."

"I told you. I'm fine." You lied.

"We can't not be together. We won't survive it. We can't live without each other."

"Why don't you just focus on other things in your life, like work or I don't know, maybe, your wife? You'll get over it. Just give it time." You patronized coldly. Your hands shook with anxiety.

"I won't get over it. I won't get over you. Why can't you understand that?"

"For fuck's sake, find something else to do with your time. Stop fucking calling me." You snapped and ended the call.

"Fuck!" You're daughter mimicked. "Fuck fuck fuck!"

"Oh, Fuck." You uttered regretfully.

Your phone rang in your hand. Another strange number. You turned your phone off, deciding to go to the phone service store afterwards to change your number.

•••••••••••••••••••

"She had too many telemarketers calling, Ma."

You lay in the middle of your bed in your purple nightie listening to Daryl's phone call.

"I'll change her number in your phone tomorrow." He promised. "Alright. Good Night, Ma. Bye."

He sighed long and tired.

"Did you have to change your number? I been gettin' calls all day about it."

It was your turn to sigh.

"I texted everyone who needed to know. Who called?"

Daryl took off his jeans and started changing into his pajama pants.

"Your Mother, your Grandmother, your Aunts, my Mother." He tied the drawstring of the grey flannel bottoms. "And every one a them wanted to know if everythin' was okay, was it a scam or did you really change your number and why you changed your number."

He came to the bed and reached for the edge of the blanket. You scooted over onto your side.

"Were you really gettin' that many calls?"

You sat up and started pulling your half of the covers down, so you could get underneath them.

"Yeah. Non stop."

"Hmm." Daryl shifted, trying to get comfortable.

"What?"

"Haven't heard your phone ring much."

"It got annoying. So, I've been keeping it on silent most of the time." You turned and turned off the lamp.

"Oh."

You lay there quietly for some time. You flinched at being touched all of a sudden. Daryl's hand had found yours under the sheet. He laced his fingers with yours. Understanding that he was making an effort, you didn't reject him. You curled your fingers around his a little to let him know you appreciated the gesture.

#negan x reader #negan smith x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #negan #the walking dead #daryl dixon

[yesttoheaven]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: Who we are and who we need to be to survive are different things, especially when we understand that taking risks to save the lives of those we love is not stupid. Much less a choice.

warnings: language, angst, past trauma, mentions/intentions (not representations) of abuse, lack of communication, mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts

wc: 2.925

a/n: I just felt the need to write something for TLOU and here it is, I hope you like it! (this story was also posted by me in pt-br on wattpad)

[english is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors]

[no use of yn]

part l — overthinking

You hated this place.

The world itself was already hateful long before it succumbed to cordyceps, but after the outbreak, the problems multiplied day by day and there was nothing that could be done to change that. You missed normality. You would venture to say that you missed your parents' heated arguments and even your brother tormenting the hell out of you. However, a part of you was relieved that they didn't have to experience the chaos of this new world, but another part of you cursed yourself for simply continuing to breathe. A feeling of "it should have been me" gnawing at your insides with every memory. Everything could be different if all of you hadn't come across some infected on the way. You and your father were never close, but the way he stood up for you that night showed a different side of him. He tried. He fought to keep his family safe as long as he could, but then other infected appeared. One of them grabbed your mother, the screams made you freeze and when something slammed into your side, you figured it would meet the same end as hers, but it was just your brother pushing you out of the way, preventing you from be attacked.

"Are you deaf? I said run!"

Those were his last words, before that infected knocked him to the ground, biting your brother like he was a complete meal. Hours earlier the two of you were playing dominoes on the bedroom floor, laughter filling the room because he was such a bad thief and no matter how many times he said he didn't like you or that you were nothing but an irritant thing, his actions proved just the opposite.

Without your family, you've settled into a few QZ's spread across the country, meeting a few people here and there, but nothing too significant. There were also mean people in the Quarantine Zones, but it was outside those walls that you found the real monsters.

Humans.

Not infected. Quite ironic, isn't it?

In view of what happened, it seemed impossible to believe that there was anything worse than those who were unjustly punished by cordyceps, but of course, human beings can always find a way to make everything even better. People, your own kind, have made you fear for your life more times than you care to admit, and it was on one of those occasions that you met Joel Miller.

Like a deer caught in the headlights.

This is how you felt with the gun pointed at you, specifically at your head. One misstep, the smallest of movements, and this complete stranger had the power to blow your brains out. Not for a second did he falter, standing his ground just a few meters away while he checked his surroundings with trained eyes and ears. The sound of branches breaking under hurried footsteps captured both of your attention, but you were the only one to panic, completely forgetting the situation you were in. The click of the gun being unlocked came as a reminder, curses welling up in your mind for being so stupid.

— You better stay where you are. And keep your arms where I can see them. – He instructed, adjusting the gun in hand as he approached.

Just as you started to slowly raise your arms, the man looked you up and down, a crease deepening between his thick brows. What the hell were you doing barefoot in the middle of the woods, wearing nothing more than a thin white dress that fell just above your knees? Despite your disheveled appearance, your wide eyes conveyed a range of truth, genuine dread reflected in a silent cry for help. You looked like a cornered, helpless animal, but he knew better. How many ambushes had Joel witnessed in the past 18 years? Even children were used to sensitize unsuspecting idiots, so it was not surprising that this time a beautiful woman was taking that spot. He was ready to ask when your friends would show up, but before any words could come out, a tall, slender-bodied man emerged from among the trees, automatically making himself the target of the pistol, but that didn't bring you any sign of relief. Quite the contrary, it triggered fear in you.

— Ah, here you are! – Simon's voice, or at least that was the name he had given it when you first met, made your stomach lurch. The friendly smile plastered on his face fell a few tenths as soon as his eyes found the stout figure behind you and any suspicion that they knew each other was previously dismissed. — Come on, man, put that gun down. Can't you see you're scaring my wife?

Splitting his focus between you and the man who had just arrived, Joel sneered, his chest vibrating with bitter laughter, before he practically spit out the next words:

— I'm the one with a fucking gun pointed to your head and yet your wife is crawling towards me. Are you sure I'm the one scaring her?

Fuck. That was the confirmation you needed to run to him, assuming rather prematurely that he was remotely trustworthy.

— Ungrateful bitch. – Simon hissed under his breath, but loud enough not to go unnoticed. Since the man with the thick southern accent wasn't buying his move, he opted to discard the calm posture, that same posture you let yourself be fooled into and now you can only pray you're not making the same mistake when the guy in the plaid flannel steps in front of you. — Why don't you move out of the way and let me take the girl? You don't want to get caught in the middle of this situation, trust me.

In fact, Joel didn't want to.

All he wanted was to get back to QZ in Boston as soon as possible and fill Tess in on the new deal he had closed, but like the good old underdog, of course he had to be caught in the middle of some shitty conflict and something told him this wasn't going to end well. At least, not when you stepped out from behind him, mustering up the threads of courage to handle the situation on your own.

— I appreciate you helping me, Simon, but... – Your voice got stuck in your throat. It was repulsive to be in that position and still have to thank, but what choice did you have? The one man with a gun wasn't giving any positive signals, you started to assume they would soon come to terms. Men tend to protect themselves, right? That's how it works. Letting out a shaky breath, you continued: — I already put on the fucking dress! See! What else do you expect from me?!

— Come on honey, I fed you! I gave you a roof over your head and a comfortable bed to sleep in, I think you should return the favor, don't you?

You were exhausted and hungry when you found him. He had been kind, stating that he had a small group nearby, they were hunting to bring food to his community, so with a last thread of hope, you just followed him. The consequence came later, when you found out that the 4 men were nothing more than hunters living isolated in an old cabin in the mountains. When Simon showed up with his supposedly dead wife's dress, the disgusting stares that fell on you made your body shudder, but you agreed, thinking it would buy you some time, and that's how you managed to escape through the window. At that moment, Simon barely bothered to reach for his gun before he bolted after you, alerting the others that the bitch was getting away.

— You are a grown-up girl already, you know what you need to do if you want to survive in this world. Just come back with me and I guarantee we'll get along great... – He insisted, as if what he offered was an oasis, your only and best option. Under the circumstances, you were more than willing to work for a plate of food and a warm bed, but what he was proposing… no. Not that. — Your new friend can come too, I'm sure he would enjoy the show. After all, who wouldn't want to get their hands on a little thing like you? This world has taken so much from us, nothing fairer than...

Simon's self-inflicted rant soon turned into an agonized scream as a bullet lodged in his left knee. The noise of the gunshot clouded your senses as you startled gaze drifted over the man now lying on the forest floor. He kept his hands on the wound, pressing, as he writhed in pain, and despite the overwhelming relief you felt at seeing him in this state, a part of you knew that all this commotion would just alert the other 3 hunters and a few infected would follow suit.

— He isn't alone... The others are coming.

Ignoring Simon's protests, you took a deep breath and looked around for the shooter, only to realize that he was already looking at you as he demanded:

— How many?

— Three.

— Guns?

— Probably. One of them has a crossbow.

He nodded and despite his tense jaw, his calmness confused you. Facing them wasn't the wisest thing to do, but from the man's posture, he seemed very inclined to do so. With his head down, you assumed he was focusing on the gun, perhaps calculating how many bullets were left, but that's when you noticed his eyes fixed on his wrist, debating silently with the old clock that resided there, before he uttered with some reluctance:

— There's a car on that side of the woods. – He pointed to the spot. — I don't care what kind of shit you're in, I just want you to go over there and wait for me. Do you understand?

You blinked a few times, stunned by the idea that he had agreed to help you, but it didn't take long for Simon's laughter to fill the silence, followed by acid words, but which, undeniably, filled you with concern. If you went to the car and waited for it, what would happen next? After all, this complete stranger was getting involved in your shit, he would want you to return the favor, right? Would he want to get his hands on a little thing like you too?

Noticing your mind wandering away, he felt the need to verbalize:

— I won't hurt you. – His voice was filled with an assurance you haven't been able to find in anyone for a long time and when new footsteps became audible you used it to run in the direction he had indicated.

Through the trees, you missed the way the man walked slowly towards Simon, who proceeded to crawl under the forest floor, his curses turning to desperate pleas, before a bullet hit his head.

One less.

A ghost of a smile crossed Joel's lips at the thought and he looked for a strategic spot to hide and wait for the others, ready to make sure these motherfuckers never come near you or any other girl ever again.

He didn't know you, but he saved your life that day and even though the existence of a debt seemed alarming, Joel never pressed, never wanted you to return the favor. At that time, after having confided that you were alone, he took you to Boston, believing that it would be better than leaving you wandering aimlessly across the country. Once inside those walls, the two of you would get on with your lives, but it was almost as if fate had other plans. The place was broke shit not unlike any other QZ's you've been to, so speaking to the right people here and there, your path crossed with Theresa Servopoulos and so you found out what Joel did to guarantee a minimally decent stay in that corrupt end of the world. When you expressed your willingness to join them in smuggling, Tess's reaction couldn't have been any different. Her skepticism got the better of her as she surveyed your figure devoid of any threat. You wouldn't put fear into an ant even if you tried, however, some effort combined with your determination could be helpful. It would be nice to have a young face in the business, for so long it had just been her and Joel, but a third wheel was more than welcome at times when things got out of hand – and that happened more often than she liked to admit. It all started with an agreement that would benefit all three parties – Joel, of course, was still against it – but it didn't take long for you to find in the tough-looking woman, a friend for all hours.

Any nostalgic, momentary happiness died from your features as you remembered what happened to her. Or anyone else who crossed your path. At some point, everyone just ended up dead. It was like that with Tess. With Bill and Frank, and most recently, Sam and Henry. That morning still haunts your sleep, but instead of Henry pulling the trigger, it's your bullet that pierces Sam's head. Your mind was playing games with you because of what you would have done. The instant Ellie hit the ground, your hand slipped to the gun strapped to your leg, not really thinking about what came next until Henry demanded that you step back and drop the gun.

"He's my brother!"

Without even hesitating, you were more than willing to kill a child. An 8 year old child. But that was the right thing to do, wasn't it? You could never forgive yourself if Ellie got hurt, but in the first place, could you forgive yourself for hurting Sam? When the shot rang out, you snapped out of your stupor and your eyes met hers, the way she shared her gaze between you and the gun in your hand is still fresh in your memory.

She thought you were the one who pulled the trigger?

Was that disappointment in her eyes?

Fuck! Just a few months ago you didn't even know each other, but now her opinion seems to matter so much. Why?

▪︎

Scrambling along beside Joel through the thick snow, Ellie cast one last look back, watching you with nothing but concern, before turning back to the man.

— She look like shit...

Joel didn't know how to respond, seeing as he had noticed the subtle change in your behavior, promising himself that even though he wasn't very good with words, he would talk to you about it, but his attempts were easily thwarted by you, who seemed to close yourself off around these problems, not letting Joel in. And what was seen as a "subtle change" soon turned into a giant snowball. The past three months had been no less intense, so he had a clear sense of what was plaguing your thoughts, however, discussing that with Ellie was out of the question.

— Why don't you read her some of your bad puns? – He suggested, arranging the rifle on his shoulder and in the same instant the girl's face lit up, shooting towards you.

At the sound of hurried footsteps, your body went into alert, but as soon as your eyes left the icy waters of The River of Death and found Ellie, your worry dissipated a little.

— Did something happen? – You couldn't help but ask, earning a quick nod and a playful smile.

— I got tired of tormenting the old man over there, so all I have left is you. – She laughed, cheeks flushed from the bitter cold only making her cuter. — And I brought this. – Ellie took her little book of puns out of her coat pocket, looking at you expectantly before flipping through the pages. — Alright, here goes... Why was Dumbo sad?

Without having the luxury of waiting for you to hazard a guess, she snapped:

— He felt irrelephant.

— Irrelephant, really? Jesus, Ellie! – This made the young girl burst into more giggles, as you tipped your head back, staring up at the blue sky to hide the big smile forming on your lips, but of course she saw it, feeling proud of her achievement.

— What do you call an alligator in a vest?

— An investigator! – You were quick with that one, earning an almost shocked expression from Ellie, who fluttered around you, kicking up some snow.

The mingling laughter fell under Joel's good ear and on another occasion he would have complained about the noise, but now, he can't help but look at you and Ellie with soft eyes, a far cry from those tired dark orbs.

— All right, smartass, let's see if you get this one right... – Ellie murmured, flipping determinedly through the book's worn pages, and as you waited for the perfect pun, you found yourself staring at the brooding man in the distance, noticing that he had stopped walking to wait for the two of you. — A-ha! Why shouldn't you argue with a dinosaur?

Your brows furrowed profusely at this one.

— Because they are... huge? – You offered with a wan smile and the girl just slammed the book against her face, huffing in sheer displeasure, when suddenly a group on horseback appeared at the top of the hill.

Your first reaction was to grab Ellie and run to meet Joel, who promptly put himself in front of you two, since there was nowhere to run or hide.

▪︎

a/n: I hope you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #f reader #the last of us imagine #tlou imagine #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams #bella ramsey #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[nodirectionhome-ao3]

I just came to tell you that I’m in LOVE with KSFM, it’s gorgeous and an absolute gem of a fic! It’s truly so difficult to find fics that are true to the characters, and you get Lily, Sirius and Harry so so right. Thank you especially for the care you show towards Sirius and Harry, it’s so rare to see their relationship done justice, and you strike the perfect balance!

Also, I saw your comments about the James lives AU, and that just made my day!! I’ll be waiting with bated breath… I know you’re not sharing too much about the fic yet, but I was wondering if you’d considered basing it in GoF instead of PoA (so after all of the PoA reveals of the marauders). But, honestly, I completely trust you and your vision - I can understand not wanting to do OotP. Also, if you’re not comfortable sharing too much about the setting of the AU, then feel free to ignore my question 😅 I’m just eagerly waiting the announcement!

Thank you so much!!!! You are too kind🥰🥰 I’m thrilled that you’re enjoying KSFM and Sirius and Harry’s relationship in particular!!! They are all so so special to me and it gives me ALL the warm and fuzzies when people like how I’ve written them. So thanks a million!!!!❤️

As for the James AU, I kind of impulsively (and prematurely) said that it would take place in PoA because I was just caught up in the excitement about it, but I’m not convinced that that’s where the majority of action will take place. I’m very much still working out the details.

I’ve been toying with the idea of having James wake up in the PoA era, pretty much because the idea of him waking up while everyone still thinks Sirius is evil is kind of too juicy to resist. And the idea would be that the events of PoA change dramatically as a result and Harry finds out about the marauders much sooner. BUT…I’m not committed to this idea yet for numerous reasons. One is the damn time turner, which I really don’t feel like dealing with, and another is just the fact that part of the magic of KSFM (at least to me) is the fact that it’s taking place in OotP. I like the parallel storyline of both Lily and Harry recovering from the trauma of a recent encounter with Voldemort, and found that to be a major catalyst for their relationship that bonded them quickly. Plus there’s the whole Ministry corruption thing and the impending war/Voldemort being in Harry’s head stuff, all of which make for lots of interesting plot lines to wrestle with.

So setting this before OotP is tricky, but setting it during OotP is equally tricky since I don’t want to bore people by writing it too similar to KSFM.

GoF is an interesting idea, and one I’m considering, but idk if I want to write the tournament. Maybe I’ll think of a way to do it in a way that will be interesting to me, but I’m not feeling particularly inspired by the idea of writing something set during the triwizard tournament.

This a very rambling answer lol😅, but basically the answer is that I’m still exploring a lot of options!! I’m even thinking through an idea that would involve James not waking up immediately (like in KSFM) and would involve Sirius, Harry, and Remus needing to do stuff to wake him. (Cue lots of drama!) but I haven’t really thought through that idea yet so it could be terrible😂

But yeah…I’m working on it! I know exactly how Halloween ‘81 is going to go down and how James is going to survive, but beyond that? Who knows!

Thanks again for your kind words!!!

#kindly stopped for me #james lives au

[so-long-soldier-writes]

I have no irl friends or mutuals who are Kai Stans so I figured I’d send you an ask about it because you’re my fave Kai account. I just rewatched that episode after the merge where Kai tried to kill Liv with that candle and couldn’t bring himself to do it and I have never felt so emotionally conflicted in my life. Like on one hand, bad Kai don’t murder people. But on the other hand, he looked so genuinely upset to be wrestling with his conflicting emotions and I just wanted to hug him

Okay, first of all, I'm honored to be your fave. I feel like I say this a lot, but I'm absolutely melting!🩷Hearing that people enjoy the things I write always makes me smile, and I think about those kinds of comments on the daily. Second, I rarely answer asks this quickly; I usually write out a response over a few days and edit it over a few more, but this got me so freaking excited because I JUST watched that episode and had the same feelies you're describing. Third, I will gladly be a mutual with you, whether you want to stay on anon or not! (I am so shy and weird irl, but I love talking to people on here, especially fellow Kai stans!!) (I don't talk to anyone irl about Kai, not even my mom who's watching tvd, bc I just KNOW she's gonna be like... you like this guy? 🤨 and i'll be awkwardly trying to defend him like he's not the love of my life. also, i love my mom and we're super close, but every time she watches an episode, she needs to remind me how much she loves matt donovan 😵‍💫)

But back to the point, yes, I literally watched that same episode / scene last night! And ugh, it gives me so many different feelings, too.

We really got to see the internal struggle he was having in that moment. Earlier, he had mentioned he was writing to Jo, and that he was crying, but in this scene, we actually got to see the emotions he may have been feeling while writing it. He was already exhausted and overwhelmed from trying to astral project into 1994 to help Bonnie, which is another huge display of emotion, and now he's facing his innate need to protect himself verses a whole new slew of feelings he doesn't understand.

On top of that, I don't think he actually wanted any of his siblings dead. I think he was just so void of emotion from all his trauma and abuse that he came to believe the only way to survive was if they were to die. He is, and always will be a sociopath; there's no way to unwire his brain, but Luke's emotions gave him all these feelings he hasn't felt in decades. Part of not wanting to kill Liv was definitely Luke preventing him, but I think part of it, too, was his own feelings.

Just thinking about it… sociopathy develops around the ages of 14-16; Kai is technically 40 years old. He was completely isolated for so long, and then thrust into this loud, complicated, modern world that he doesn't understand. He still has to fight to survive; his family still hates him 18 years later. When he finally accomplishes his "task" - to survive, his family hates him even more, and, since survival equals the merge, he now has feelings to battle on top of all these other new struggles.

Then in that scene, he's trying to make up for the hurt he put his sister (Jo) through, and then Bonnie. He offers empathy to Jeremy, helping him reach Bonnie even after Liv stabs him. He's a bit puzzled on what he should feel for Liv. At the moment, she's just in his way of accomplishing these other "tasks," but Luke won't let him hurt her, and he's fighting with himself about it. And that's a lot. Luke is overwhelming him; his own emotions are overwhelming him.

He needs a hug. And a nap. Both. Personally, I wanted to jump through the screen and give him a hug, then let him fall asleep while I held him and promised to keep him safe.

He's just begging for some kind of security throughout the season. He looks to Bonnie and Damon for it, hoping the three of them can escape the prison world together; hoping he can trust them; that they won't leave him there any longer. He looks for it by merging, knowing if he wins, he secures his spot in the coven; he can't be killed. He tries to make amends with Damon, helping him find his mom, and Bonnie, trying to apologize. Even Jo; he feels sick and he goes to his sister, who's a doctor, because she knows her trade; she can help him; provide him with some clue of what's going on, because he doesn't understand. He doesn't want to be left behind on his own again. He wants someone to trust him, and trust that he's trying to be better. But that's exactly what happens when he's trapped in 1903, and then, of course, he snaps again, because he realizes no one is going to change their minds about him, and no one is going to offer the basic human needs he so desperately has wanted for decades.

If someone just gave him a freaking hug and a second chance, things would've went a lot differently for everyone involved.

It's their own fault, honestly, that the season ended the way it did, (speaking, of course, as if the writers were not writing, and that the characters chose the course of the story). Kai, I believe, is extremely intelligent, and knew exactly how to hurt every single person who directly or indirectly hurt him. He found a little bit of security in Lily Salvatore - all he really wanted - and with that little boost of confidence from the wrong person, was able to deliver absolute chaos and destruction where he deemed necessary.

But now, on a completely unrelated note, I also have three random things to say about this scene. Given the chance to talk about it, I feel I must. One, I find it absolutely hilarious how Kai and Liv throw silverware at each other almost every time they fight. The camera pans to a fork or a knife, and suddenly, it's in the other's neck. Makes me wonder how family dinners went in that household. 😅 Two, when he was pouring alcohol on her, all I could think was damn, he's just gonna set that whole mansion on fire and everyone in it. That huge, expensive, historic, mansion, just to burn one girl. Three, I also couldn't stop looking at that sadistic smile. How happy he seemed to get over the "prospect of getting to watch someone burn to death," right before he couldn't bring himself to do it. His dark eyes do something to me. And the fact that he was already covered in his own sweat and tears from, again, over-exhaustion, just had me watching with absolute heart eyes. Maybe I should go to therapy.

But yes, I feel the conflicting emotions. I really wanted him to not kill her, because I didn't want him to prove them all right. I really wanted him to be redeemed because he deserved it so much. But at the same time….. he just looked so hot doing it.

#asks #kai parker #the vampire diaries #me? going on a tangent? i'm so shocked #gjldnfdl i could talk about this boy FOREVER #loml <3

[dangermousie]

Of course Ming Ye’s plan to save Sang Jiu involves gruesomely dying in her stead. If aesthetically suffering was an Olympic sport, the man would be going for a gold medal.

I have my issues with this portion of the story (not the way it’s written, it’s done well, but with my liking or lack thereof for this couple, about which more below) but this is the important point! Yes, the tears are important blah blah but this is a lesson about how to swap someone’s demonic stuff without, you know, driving nails into them like they are evil Jesus. 

By now, I am quite done with these two boneheads, but I confess that made even my cold black shriveled heart hurt.

(I guess they had a starter marriage :P)

Ummmm, honey! She just massacred 10K people! I am sure they had old and kids among them. Like...by now I want to smack both of them with a shovel, tbh.

Awwww. Even with my annoyance at these two, this once again made me :(

Sang Jiu being her charming self. Let the man die in peace (or, since you yourself are about to keel over), let him survive in peace. 

OK, OK, Mousie, stop being irritated and concentrate on how pretty LYX looks here.

And then she’s all “psych! I can’t be undevilized or even survive because my normal body is dead.” You couldn’t have let him know BEFORE he got repeatedly flambeed for you?

It’s OK, hot dimbulb, there are many many fangirls who will gladly accept your...ahem...divine essence. All night long.

What the hell! Now that she’s dying, she still wants to do her best so he’d not have any peace. No dissipating before a final twist of the knife. WTF! By now, any shred of sympathy I had for her (and to a large degree MY) has disappeared utterly. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s bad writing - just as MY is terrible at communicating and prone to dramatic gestures over common sense functioning, Sang Jiu is incredibly self-absorbed and immature from beginning to end. She was someone who thought it was a great idea to marry a guy who did not know her at all because he was hot. She also thought it was a great idea to force him into sex right after they got divorced. She didn’t wait to find out whether the method she came up with would result in divine punishment or whether it was still worth it to use the crystal chalice despite where it came from or or or or or really anything. It’s just before she went powerful and evil, Ming Ye and the viewer could ignore the red flags (which got redder and redder; I mean much as fictional dubcon in 14 was hot, it WAS 100% dubcon/sexual assault; no nice sweet good selfless well-adjusted person does that) but once she got power into her hands and trauma really shoved her further, it became really clear. It’s kind of like Tantai Jin. If he has no status and no power, does it matter in terms of its effect on the world if he would love revenge or is cold or has trauma or w/e? No, of course not because whether he’s a well-adjusted sweetheart or dysfunctional psycho, he has no power to carry out anything, whether it’s to open a puppy shelter or to carry out a wholesale slaughter. But once he gets power, his traumas and quirks become everyone else’s concern and one must deal with them somehow because he makes it everyone’s business. Same here.

What. The. Fuck. That is not romantic, this is UGH. Honestly, I am glad MY and SJ found each other because they should not inflict themselves on other partners. It’s kind of amazing that I started out liking them and by now I am all “thanks divine lightning, hurry it up with your barbeque.” 

He ultimately does not but by then I stopped caring. I am so so so happy we are back to our headcases Tantai Jin and Susu.

The thing is - my ranting does not mean I did not enjoy this portion of the story (unlike in the novel where I skimmed it since I dngaf about it at all.) The acting is great, the visuals are nuts, and the characters, including MY and SJ are completely internally consistent and their actions make total sense for what and who they are - their arcs are logical. I strongly dislike both of them by the end, but that does not mean it was not a well-done story.

#cdrama #luo yunxi #bai lu #till the end of the moon

[lovecatsys]

so i want to preface this by saying I am very new to marvel comics fandom, only a couple months over a year, and i used to be an MCU fan (regrettably) and that as a system, when the Moon Knight Disney + show came out, everyone in my community was talking about it and how well the representation of plurality was done. I watched it myself and immediately fell in love. I hadn't read any Moon Knight comics yet so I didn't know any of the story. But I was amazed by how sensitively they had portrayed a DID system, when usually the kind of representation we get is just. horrific. The story about two headmates who had such an intense dissociative barrier between each other, one trapped in repression and repressed memories, the other believing himself to be a monster because of his own trauma, keeping himself locked away so that his headmate could live a life without having to deal all of that, finally being pulled together and having to deal with each other's existence, working through their childhood trauma, and coming to love each other and appreciate what each has done for their collective as a whole for all these years, was absolutely profound. It brings me to tears every time I watch it. The show in general is incredibly well done, I honestly think it may be the greatest thing the MCU has ever put out. Oscar Isaac's acting ability when it came to going between Steven and Marc was superb. I was completely awed by this show.

But also, there were certain parts that were insensitive and made me cringe. Having Oscar Isaac, a goyische actor, desecrate a kippah, was a huge Yikes moment. And the portrayal of Wendy Spector's abuse was particularly insensitive. I didn't realize that there was such a thing as an "abusive Jewish mother stereotype" until after I watched this show but now that I have and have seen people talk about this subject, I can see it now plainly as a stereotype in society.

I've also gotten into comics now. I've read several Moon Knight runs, and seeing how Marc is written in the comics and how significant his Jewishness is to his story, makes the show's portrayal and the casting of Oscar Isaac look bad.

In all honestly I didn't like the version Marc and Steven's trauma in the show. It felt almost unrealistic and a little cliche. Which isn't to say that some people haven't experienced the type of abusive parent that Wendy Spector is portrayed as here, but in the context of a show along with the stereotype it felt insensitive, and overall bad. The emotional aspects to that episode were well done, but the story of the trauma in itself is something I would change personally.

I'm not Jewish and I want to acknowledge the insensitive portrayal of Marc's Jewish identity. It was bad, and I understand really not being able to like the show because of it. But I still really do love it, it has such a special place in my heart. The story of a DID system formed from child abuse finding out about and working through their trauma, learning to accept each other, and appreciate the roles their separate headmates have played in their survival, and coming to love each other, hit so close to home for me you wouldn't even believe it.

So I don't... know what to do about this. I guess that's what this post is leading to. Because every time I see someone discount the show, it makes me sad and want to defend it. Because as a system i honestly think this may be the Best mainstream representation we have out there, where the story is so focused on the system, and multiple headmates are both main characters. And the moral of the story isn't that Marc is insane or a monster and needs to be fixed, but that Steven is what has kept him going for all these years, and the two of them can become better, happier people when they learn to accept each other and incorporate each other's lives together. I can't even express how much that this Is the goal for the treatment of most DID systems, and is the goal for almost every plural collective out there. It's called "integration" and despite the implications of the name it does Not mean "final fusion". it just means the point where a system/collective is functioning healthily and everyone is working together.

So what do I do when the portrayal of Marc's jewishness is terrible, because naturally it is, its the MCU, and I am not Jewish and have no ties to the culture, but the portrayal of the system is so well done that its become such a beloved piece of media in my community, the plural community? I guess keep loving it while criticizing it. If anyone has any input id like to hear it tbh.

#moon knight #sorry i didnt mean for this to get so long 😭