#I say this a lot but I think it’ll cure me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tmntxthings · 2 years

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A Witch’s Kitchen Pt. 2

author’s note: for those who wanted the confession c:

warnings: fluff, slight cursing, unedited

> part one <

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previously… “No buts!” Leo said grabbing Casey’s arm just in case he tried to make a dash for it. Mikey and Raph said their polite goodbyes, while Donnie entered the portal silently. You sent him the middle finger subtly since your arms were crossed. Casey was looking at you with big puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t help but console him even with Leo there. “Don’t worry, I’ll text you,” you said smiling slightly and shaking your head. He brightened at that, “if you ignore me for an hour I’m FaceTiming you!”

You had kept your word, replying to Casey by text and answering if he called. You had gotten a little busy when you turned your attention back to potion brewing, but for the most part you had your ringer turned on. Two more days passed before a knock was heard at your front door.

“Coming!” You hollered, trying to quickly towel dry your hair, having just gotten out of the shower. More knocking was heard and you grumbled to yourself, throwing on some clothes and speed walking to the door. Opening it to see that Casey was lifting his hand to knock on the door again. “Yes??” You mused, giving Casey an expectant stare, wondering what was so important for him to try and bang the front door down.

Casey’s voice caught in his throat. Your wet hair dripping onto the cloth of the hoodie you wore. He came over because he couldn’t take staying away any longer. Ever since Leo had dragged him through that portal back into the lair he has mainly been on his phone. Texting you and waiting for replies, finding the courage to call when he felt like he couldn’t bear to go another second without hearing your voice. The two days without you had been absolutely torture, and by the second day he was quite sure his heart was going to jump out of his chest and run all the way to your place with or without his body. So… yeah here he was at your door unable to fight the love potions allure that made his wants that much stronger.

But could he really just say, yeah I couldn’t stay away, so here am I, please hang out with me?! No way, absolutely not, that sounded way too desperate even though that was exactly how he felt. “I-“ he stuttered only thinking of how much he missed you, and seeing you before him now, all flushed from a shower and smelling absolutely divine. He could hardly think straight! “Can you take me to Witch Town? I’m in need of a cure for this love potion I stupidly drank,” he ended up saying, totally chickening out on just a natural ‘I missed you.’ “Now? It’s pretty late don’t you think Case?” You had just thrown on the hoodie because it was close by, but in actuality you would’ve put on your comfy pajamas. “Plus if anyone could make a cure, that would be me, since you know that was my potion,” you explained to him, opening your door wider for him to enter.

You had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stay away for the whole week. You were curious as to how he had snuck away, because surely Leo hadn’t let Casey come here. Unless Casey had been a total pain in the ass, which is likely since he was under love potion influence. “Well can you make one for me?” He said as he entered, closing his eyes briefly as he got a stronger scent of your shampoo and conditioner. Damn he had it bad and he just knew (from what you had told him) that he was going to fold way sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to! No not yet! He had no gauge other than two days ago at how he affected you, and he still wasn’t confident. He wanted to be sure, one hundred percent sure, that you felt the same way before he went admitting his feelings.

So he was begging for a cure, and also using it as an excuse to see you, because he hadn’t had any other ideas! “It’ll take a lot of expensive ingredients, one’s that I’d rather not buy if not absolutely necessary.. are you experiencing pain? Is something wrong?” You closed the door behind Casey, following him to where he crashed on the couch, you sat next to him giving him a once over, he didn’t look to be in pain. Though maybe uncomfortable? “No not really.. just heart aches,” he mumbled the ending. And you sighed, not really hearing the last bit, thankfully for Casey, “I’m sorry Case, there’s nothing I could do, even if I had the money it takes longer to brew cures, you’d already be over the love potion by the time I would finish!” You felt bad, even though Casey had put himself through this to begin with, you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, and when your friends came to you for help, you helped! In any way you could, you were a real fixer in that regard.

“I understand,” and he leaned into your touch as your hand went out to his arm, trying to comfort him. If he had a tail, it would’ve wagged. “Can I hang out with you for a bit?” He asked hopefully and you smiled for him, “duh, wanna watch something? A movie? Or a show?” Casey had a lottt of movies and shows to catch up on. One of the things he liked to do most since he came back to the future, though three years had passed he still had a long list that everyone had made for him. A watch list! “Yeah!” He said excitedly, a total movie buff nowadays. Casey hadn’t even needed to get out the list (he kept a digital version in his notes app). “I’m on Harry Potter now!” Casey said excitedly as you got the remote to the tv. “You’re joking.” You said giving him a serious look. “Huh? No, why is there something wrong with that movie?” He asked worriedly not remembering who had put it on the list.

“No it’s just ironic,” you said shaking your head, wondering what were the odds that he’d want to watch a movie about wizards and witches with you: a witch. Casey soon found out why you said ironic and he immediately began to ask questions. Trying to compare the similarities and differences and you begrudgingly replied. “No we’re not divided into houses, it’s like normal school though the classes are quite similar..” “No we don’t have a The One Who Shall Not Be Named, though there is a beast we have to appease, make a peace offering to so he doesn’t destroy Witch Town, it’s a big spectacle,” you refrained from saying how Donatello had almost been the ruin of your Town some years ago.

Casey listened to you, his full attention would go to you anytime you spoke. Glancing over when you’d grumble at a scene you thought was particularly cringey to a real witch. He would get real happy when you would suddenly be really interested in the movie, not saying anything unless he asked a question. By the third movie you had popped some popcorn, fully invested even though you had already watched the series. When the fifth movie rolled around the two of had gotten comfortable on the couch, you were laying stretched out, your legs going over Casey’s lap resting there. His hands would sometimes rub over your lower thighs and knees. He himself not really noticing the action too much as his attention was on the movie.

But you would do a little double take at the warm feeling of his bare hands touching you. It was getting reallyyyyy late, and you were starting to yawn as the movie finally ended. “Wanna call it a night?” Casey asked with a small smile, noticing you were yawning yet again. “Mmmm nah we can finish, we’ve just got three more right?” Casey nodded, “Yup eight in total,” he watched as you clicked the sixth, then moved to get up, “I’ll be right back, I’m going change and grab a blanket,” you said.

Casey was left to his own thoughts as the sixth movie started playing. Was he sleeping over again? He guessed so since you hadn’t told him to go home! He of course did not want to leave and the prospect of spending more time with you made his heart burst with happiness. When you returned blanket in your hands and wearing a pajama set, Casey was smiling wide. “What’re you cheesing for?” You said going to sit next to him and sharing the blanket. “Just, I really enjoy your company,” he said smiling sheepishly. You smiled too, finding what he said cute, “right back at you Casey,”

As the two of you turned back to the screen, Casey couldn’t help his hand moving on its own accord. Reaching out to tentatively brush against yours where it rested on top of the blanket, in your lap. You swallowed, glancing down to see he left his hand right next to yours, and you knew he was letting you decide. Expressing his interest to hold your hand but not wanting to initiate. Partly because he was a gentleman and partly because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or get rejected. Your hand turned, slowly interlacing your fingers with his.

Immediately Casey was holding his breath, the feeling of your hand in his, it was just perfect. But he was feeling greedy now, now he wanted more than just hand holding. He held himself back for maybe ten minutes before it became too much to bear, “Y/n,” he said softly and you hummed in question, still looking at the tv. You had a faint blush dusting your cheeks now that he had looked over. It only gave him the confidence to continue, he squeezed your hand and when you turned, he leaned in. Stopping just short from your lips and you hadn’t flinched away, in fact your eyes were glued to his lips. A small smirk formed and you looked up into his eyes, “do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now?” he spoke softly, his thumb rubbing across your hand that he was still holding. “Casey..” you bit down on your lip, feeling conflicted, he was basically telling you he liked you, liked you a lot more than you originally thought. “Are you sure?” you asked thinking about how much Leo didn’t trust you, didn’t like you.

“More than sure,” he said, his eyes had followed the way your teeth pulled and chewed down on your lower lip. He wanted to do that. Right after he said that you surged forward, squeezing his hand tightly and taking him by surprise as your lips met his in hot passion. He matched you instantly, kissing you back with fervor. The movie completely forgotten about as the two of you didn’t stop, kissing for what felt like forever. You two would break for air and go right back to kissing as if neither of you could stand the thought of stopping just yet. “I like you Y/n” he breathed, admitting his feelings though you probably knew that now. He had to tell you, just to be sure. “So much, I’ve liked you for a while now..” the words were thick and you answered him, kissing him again, swallowing his words. “I like you too Casey Jones,” you said pulling back and catching your breath. Seeing how flushed you had gotten, from you kissing him, god Casey felt like he was on cloud nine. “How long?” He couldn’t stop his curiosity as his free hand went to your hair, dry now, pushing strands away from your face.

“Long enough to think you didn’t feel the same way,” you said shyly, and this had his mind reeling. The two of you had potentially liked each other this entire time and had no idea of the others feelings. He was grateful for the push that the love potion had given him, that he was still currently under. “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave you alone for the rest of the week,” his hand that had been playing with your hair, grazed over your skin, making it way from your cheek to your lips. You stayed silent, letting him touch you with an amused smile. It was like he was in a trance, you pursed your lips kissing his thumb that was currently touching your lower lip. He pulled his hand away, Casey would much rather his lips there now.

The week passed by quickly. But even with the love potion off, not much changed. With feelings out in the open now, the two of you were a lot more touchy. Much to Casey’s enjoyment. He’d get back from a patrol with the turtles, and he would scoop you up into his arms the second you opened the door. Kissing all over your face and telling you how much he missed you. “You saw me yesterday silly!” You laughed. “Mmm” he kissed your nose, “too” he kissed your cheek, “long” he finally captured your lips. He slowly placed your feet back to the ground. Drawing back with a charming smile as he watched you blink out of a dazed reverie caused by all his sweet kisses. You opened your door wider, your eyes dancing playfully, “now be careful in the kitchen, there’s a couple pink drinks in there,” Casey entered, laughing. “Duly noted.” Sure enough he looked towards your kitchen and saw five replicas of the drink he had. “So you have any buyers yet?” and this caused you to smile, mischievously. He looked at you with one brow arched in curiosity. “Someone you know wants them all,”

“Someone I know?!” Casey exclaimed and his immediate thought was the turtles. But which one would want five love potions?! He asked you but was met with a shrug and he chased you around the kitchen. You laughing and him saying how you just had to tell him! You made a mad dash for the living room and squealed as he caught you, lifting you up into his arms. “Sorry Case, confidential information,” you giggled but you were serious. “Aghhhh,” Casey groaned squeezing you for a second before letting you go, “finee,” he whined accepting you wouldn’t tell him. “Don’t whine! I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you winked. Yeah, he’d figure it out later, but right now, he was a man on a mission. “C’mere,” he said with a smirk and it only grew as you raced into the living room, continuing the game of cat and mouse. He was definitely going to catch you!

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marisferasiop · 8 months

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Transplant: Part 2/3

MINORS DNI - EXPLICIT! clicking readmore implies your consent!

Summary: You and Ezra get closer; Joel pines; Tommy interferes.

Part One: ao3 / Tumblr

The weeks tick by and you’re not as busy- once the snow melts, the standard visit predictably turns from common colds and finding hypothermic people in the snow and dealing with ice- related slips and falls to finding errant infected outside the walls and a few burgeoning pregnancies inside them.

You’re talking to such a patient in an exam room on Saturday when you hear the door in the front jingle. You poke your head out and call that you’ll be right there. You finish explaining the process of a termination to the terrified young woman on the chair in front of you and leave her to her decision. “I’ll be back in a few minutes hon. Let me know. You can take some time, but it’ll be harder to bounce back the longer you wait. It’s really early now.”

You come out to the waiting area to see Tommy, Cee, and Ezra in a row of seats, looking expectant. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

Tommy stands and waves a hand at the newcomers. “We’re trying to find jobs for these two. Cee has some trauma care experience, as it pans out, and before the slavers took their QZ and put him in the mines, Ezra says he was a- an herbalist?” He frowns and turns back.

“Forager, primarily smuggling in medicinal herbs and growin’ weed outside the QZ walls,” he chuckles with an easy grin. “But I have a keen knowledge of medicinal and ayurvedic foliage, as well as how to cure tinctures and blend salves and the like. I believe if I'm partnered with someone with a gun until I can train up my off hand with such a weapon, I can be useful foraging and working in that arena.”

“Right,” you glance back at Tommy, eyebrow cocked. “I mean, me and Sam can definitely use another for rotation. You want me to train Cee up in medicine?”

“I’m thinking you train Cee up, and take Ezra with you when you go on foraging rounds with the patrolmen, and he can make the salves and tinctures and whatever. And otherwise he can help in the community garden? Sort of part time in both til summer and fall when you will have more trips out, switch in the late summer and fall to more garden work?”

You nod, chewing the inside of your lip and thinking. You turn to Cee. “I know you're not too squeamish, which is good. You have an interest in medicine, though?”

“I've always wanted to write, honestly. Not much use for it, though. So yeah, I can do medicine. I don't not have an interest,” she shrugs.

“Fair enough. Although people like reading, still. People are still people, kid. Art is a necessity, even in an apocalypse. Write in your down time, maybe we’ll put your stuff on the library shelves,” you wink at her shy smile and turn to Ezra.

“Come on, pothead. I’ll show you the shed.”

Ezra laughs and levers himself up, still a little tilted at the hips. “I must riposte that moniker, soleil. I said I grew the weed, I never mentioned partaking.”

Tommy waves you both off and disappears back outside to attend to whatever chore he has today.

“Forgive my disbelief. You have always seemed like a man looking for any way to enjoy some creature comforts where you can find them.”

He makes a face you haven't seen yet- a slow, easy grin edging on a smirk denting his cheek into a dimple. You're helpless but to roll your eyes with a barely-there huff and turn away, beckoning them both to follow.

You lead Cee and Ezra back through the clinic to the back lot, wedged in a narrow alley between your strip and the one behind. There’s a long shed there, painted a flaking olive drab. You unlock it and throw both doors open, revealing a long workbench on one side under a window, covered in neatly organized stacks of mortar- and- pestles and rows of Mason jars filled with plain salve or clear carrier oils. Bundles of dried herbs hang from the entire ceiling and the other three walls. The shelves along the long wall are filled with jars of dried, sealed herbs and little pots of distillates, tinctures, and resins.

“This is quite the operation,” Ezra says appreciatively, eyeing the bundles and variation, the jars lining the walls and tables. He nods to himself and turns to you with a smirk. “I’m happy to lend a hand.”

“The old lady who used to run the clinic with me was a bit of a chemistry nut. I got the feeling she cooked meth Before, honestly.”

It surprises a laugh out of Ezra, his dark eyes sparking with it. It makes you smile, and you catch Cee looking every bit a teenager, like she's watching her parent be as embarrassing as possible and would love nothing more than to flee the scene.

“Well. I gotta get back to my patient, I've left her in the exam room long enough. Come back Monday after you drop Cee at school and we can talk shop. I’ll see you on Saturdays only ‘til you're done with school, kiddo. Pay attention in science and math.”

“Sure,” she smiles easily, and Ezra takes the bait. He saunters out of the shed and they wait for you to lock up before you go back in. They wave and amble off down the alley and you go back inside.

The girl has her abortion that day after Sam gets in to cover for your disappearance into the OR. You give her some solace in the decision. She's only sixteen. One of Ellie's classmates and friends.

And it is, after all, the apocalypse.

_______________

Yarrow. Dead nettle. Clover. Stinging nettle. Fiddlehead ferns. Wild asparagus! Mushrooms galore (though you test them very, very thoroughly). Dandelion out the ass.

Ezra is certainly skilled at foraging. Skilled isn't strong enough a word for how he uncovers troves. Gifted, perhaps. Every time he comes back to you and the trio of horses, he’s got a newly- laden basket and a wide, smug grin.

You make sure to gift him back all the smiles and conversation he can stand, which is apparently an endless amount.

Every now and then you feel your escort Cam’s eyes on you from the edge of the lake some twenty yards away, fishing. Cam is Joel’s usual patrol partner because they're both brash, quiet assholes and no one else can stand being with them for a full shift. You're sure a running commentary will be belated on Joel’s next patrol rounds.

Joel as a whole subject nags at the back of your mind as you carefully saw off a veritable wall of oyster mushrooms on a fallen log. He had gotten spooked again, either by someone in town or his own built up walls, and you've been relegated back to stiff nods and barely- there glances, the shadow of him hiding behind his windows instead of escorting you through town when your shifts line up.

It chafes against all the easy smiles and conversation and escorting back and forth from your mutual street and the clinic that Ezra gives you these days. All the attention and kinship.

Part of you thinks that the most-recent wedge Joel drove between you and him is because of Ezra. Because of whatever that patrolman said that got under Joel’s skin. You know he harbors doubts about being enough, a lot of the time. Enough for Ellie, for his brother. Not being enough for his daughter Sarah, who he lost on outbreak day. Because after he declined to share your bed the day you escorted Ezra home was one of the last times you’ve seen him in the flesh, let alone held a full conversation with him.

Ellie still walks home with you plenty, but like any kid she’s absorbed in her own world. Which is good, you don't need or want to drag her into yours. You talk to Ezra and she talks to Cee, and you split at the road between your houses, and you divide again at the fence line. Sometimes he’s a shadow in the window, and sometimes she pauses to use her key to get inside.

The next day is the same; meet Ezra on the road and walk to the clinic, sometimes he leaves you there with a wink and heads for the nursery and sometimes he goes through the clinic with you and exits out to the shed and meets you back in the hallway for meals. You both walk home with the girls and split at the road. Day in, day out.

One day he asked you to come over for dinner.

“Anytime, not- not now, if it’s not convenient. You know best where to find us,” he smiles, and ducks his head and meanders off.

You blink down at the bed of dandelion you’re uprooting and suddenly he’s back in front of you with a fresh basket dangling from the loose curl of his fingers down by his thigh, watching you curiously. “Where did you fly off to, sol- chérie?” his curls float softly on the wind, that white tuft flashing, softly framing his deep, round eyes.

You huff a laugh at yourself and shake your head. He’s managed to find a few fat morels and another bundle of purplish- tipped asparagus.

“Dinner,” you say, and smile up at him, The sun frames a halo round his head and he grins, the brightness of his simple anticipation overtaking the sun itself.

“Were you, now?”

“I was,” you reply. He sets down his basket and offers you a hand up. You take it, and stand.

“I would like that.”

In lieu of answering, you dump your basket of dandelion flowers and greens into a satchel and stand. “I’ll see if Cam hasn’t caught a fish or two, since he's over here being a useless guard,” you tease loudly, earning the lazy ire of your gunman and escort. “Keep foraging?”

Ezra nods, squinting at you in the bright spring sun, and flashes that dimple.

Hours later, when the sun is setting and you’re riding the Whiskey and Rye back, closely followed by your gunman on his mount, Snickers, their saddlebags laden with tightly-bound bunches of herbs and a satchel of fish, Ezra pipes up.

“You can tell me it's none of my business, soleil. But what is the deal with you and your neighbor? I don't want to go crossing any boundaries,” he clarifies at your frown. You scowl at the back of Cam’s head and clear your throat.

“Nothing. Used to be, I guess. If you could call it that. ‘f you could call it anything. But he’s riddled with trauma, like most of us. And he stepped back. So, nothing,” you shrug. “No boundaries to cross, far as I'm concerned.”

Ezra is quiet for a stretch, pondering. You squint back at him, swaying along with Whiskey’s steps, and smirk. “I’m not hurt by it. He’s never been easy, and we had an understanding. An arrangement, more than anything. And he’s drawn back. It's not like we divorced and he kept the kid,” you snort. “I promise. I don't even owe alimony or anything.”

That finally draws a chuckle from Ezra, and you grin back at him, feeling like you won something. “Don't get a complex about it. And don't be afraid of him. He just looks tough. Big old baby, if you ask me.” You smirk when you see Cam’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh.

Ezra shakes his head and cocks a brow in your direction. “I am sure he is to you, soleil. Many men are prone to mirroring such domestic softness when presented with it. I have no doubt you were a gentle landing, while it lasted. From what I've heard from the women at the nursery and the men at the mess hall, he cuts quite the ah- intimidating figure across town. But alright. I won’t ask again, unless it seems relevant.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m probably the only person here aside from Tommy who’s never actually been afraid of him.”

“Had him made from the start, did you?” Ezra chuckles. “I would not be surprised.”

“Hard not to when he and Ellie showed back up the second time half dead and barely speaking to one another. I had them both on IVs for days, regular checkups, like I did with you. One thing led to another, et cetera.”

Ezra hums and is quiet for a stretch. “His girl and Cee are getting on like a house fire.”

“Ellie. She’s a good kid. She’s gay as the trees and smart as anything. What about Cee?” You cut him a gimlet eye and Ezra throws his head back with a laugh.

“Heaven above, soleil, I have wondered, a-haha! Maybe.” He shrugs. “She hasn’t said, but I do hope she knows I wouldn't care for her any less either way. I have long been somewhat ambivalent regarding the gender of my own partners, when I have such pleasures in this life, so I can’t see why she would hide anything from me.”

“You’ll find out soon enough, whether she sneaks off with Ellie or starts bringing a boy ‘round.”

“I imagine, based on getting to know her– in captivity of course, and then now outside of it– that Cee will do no such thing. I believe when she finds a partner, she’ll be all about sneaking off with them, not luring them home. Either way, as long as she is safe, I can’t say much.”

He grips the reins in his fist and shifts his weight to glance back at you just a foot or two behind. Not having much to say to that, you offer a friendly smile, which he returns.

“So what shall I prep for dinner, soleil? We’ve got a good handful of trout in our friend’s bag, and greens for days. The grocer should have potatoes from the nursery by now? I dug some up two days ago.”

“Definitely the asparagus. That’s the highlight of the day’s finds for me.”

Ezra hums and agrees. “I do have to admit, the buggers are hard enough to find that it feels like a veritable goldmine when you find a patch.”

The gate crew let you in and you ride the horses to the stable, making sure they got a treat each for their trouble. Cam makes himself scarce with the wall crew, and you squash the immediate feeling that the gossip has already begun. After offloading the herbs into the shack for the next week’s work, you and Ezra deposited most of the edible forage and fish at the mess hall and started the trek to Rancher Street.

You split at your front gate, accepting Ezra’s offer to come over after cleaning up.

“Gimme an hour,” you say with a smile, and he nods with one of his own, dropping a kiss on your knuckles. You roll your eyes with a snort of laughter and watch him go across to his own house, swinging the basket with what’s left of your finds.

When you turn to go up your own steps, you miss the stir of the curtain in Joel’s front window.

_______________

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Tommy asks, thunking down a condensating glass with two fingers of whiskey rimming the bottom. Joel scowls at him and takes up the glass, swirling it instead of drinking.

“Don't know what–”

“You damn well do. You were doin’ real good here for a long time, ‘n now you're back to being a cranky old asshole constantly, snapping at the patrolmen and eating barely anything and bein’ a fucking hermit. What happened?” Tommy drops onto a stool across the table at the Tipsy Bison and props his elbows on it.

“Is it Ellie?”

Joel rolls his eyes in lieu of answering. Tommy just frowns.

“Is it Sunny?”

“Why in the fuck would it be her?”

Tommy scoffs and shakes his head. “Brother, you’d have to be blind or dumb to not see that you two had been fucking for a while. You break up with her?”

A muscle rolls along Joel’s jaw as he presses his molars together. He takes a sip of his drink and frowns. “There was nothing to break up.”

In answer, Tommy gives him an unimpressed look. “So let me lay this out. You and your curmudgeonly old ass managed to get genuinely the nicest person in town into a friends- with- benefits situation, then dumped her, and still have the audacity to be an ass about it? While she’s out here keeping the town afloat and healthy every day like it’s all fine?”

“Tommy–”

“Did she dump you?”

“Tommy! I–”

“You know big brother. Sometimes I have to wonder how you turned out quite this damned mean. If anyone deserves the ass- end of your temper, it sure as shit ain't your kid or Sunny, of all people.” He dumps the rest of his drink into Joel’s glass and moves like he’s going to get up. “How long ‘til you’re begging for her back?”

Joel stares at him for a long moment before his shoulders slump in defeat.

“Probably not long.”

Tommy nods, snorting a noiseless, mirthless laugh. They're quiet for a long minute, and then: “She’s with the new guy now. I think. Went to his after they were outside the walls all day.”

Tommy arches a brow and hums. “Ezra’s nice. Don’t know much about him other than he’s sweet on her and good to his kid, works hard at the nursery and the herb shed. Maybe she’ll give it a go, decide that being a side piece for some old man dick isn’t her style after all.”

He laughs at the flat, dark look Joel gives him.

“If he's better for her, and she wants him, she should stay with him. I dont- I don't know if I could let another one in, Tommy.”

Tommy nods, finding the conversation unfortunately familiar. He heard something similar the first time Joel showed up in Jackson. It was just as heartbreaking then. “I think you should have learned by now to stop making your girls’ decisions for them, first of all. Secondly, what if she wants you both?”

Joel frowns like it's the wildest thing he's ever heard.

“I mean it. It suits your need to have that stupid- ass self-serving boundary up around your heart. And she gets the domesticity and affection she probably wants from him. Everyone gets laid and gets what they need. Might not be the worst idea.”

In answer, Joel just scoffs and downs his drink. “Maybe.”

“You best get to crawlin’ then, brother.”

_______________

Dinner was delicious.

Despite losing a hand and spending years as a grunt on rations, Ezra's bred-in southern skills in the kitchen had not waned a bit. He had Cee help him clean and filet the fish, which he pan-fried in a bit of oil and herb. (She had rolled her eyes and, after asking if he needed any more help for his date, made herself scarce. If he noticed the door across the street slam and a little brown head bobbing along by her golden one, he didn't mention it to anyone, after).

He roasted a handful of small potatoes and carefully blanched and roasted the asparagus. By the time he saw you walking across the road in a clean outfit, your hair coiffed and face fresh, he was turning off the elements and washing up.

You ate, and talked. Mostly about Before, but some about after. Friends you’d each made and lost, family that hadn't made it, or if they had, were still far off.

Ezra was from honest- to- goodness Cajun country. He had grown up trilingual in Acadia, Louisiana with a rooted Cajun father and Chilean immigrant mother. He was well- read and had been a freshly-graduated geologist working his first job with the national parks service in Yellowstone before the outbreak.

With no way to reach his family clear across the country, he’d stayed on in Wyoming. He eventually went with his ever-shrinking work group across to Bozeman’s QZ with the intent of continuing southeast on one of the work transfer convoys between QZs. A few had died from infection or raider attacks on the way to Bozeman, and the rest is history.

“A geologist. I bet they liked you in the mines in Bozeman, then, eh?” You asked, and his answering smile was only a little brittle at the edges.

“They did, which was not to my benefit, mind you. Even though my education and training was primarily regarding the dating of prehistoric stratum and lava flows, I was good at finding the ore the slavers wanted, even the little threads. They never would have let me go, you see? So I had to find a way out– for her. Even if it was the last thing I did. She had no one left to help her.”

“Awfully loyal of you,” you comment, resettling your weight in your seat beside him on the sofa. Ezra hums.

“Maybe. But when one has naught left to live for, what's a spare bit of loyalty for a friend. Especially to save them?” he basks in your soft, slow smile.

“Besides, she saved me, too. I forfeited myself to those smugglers, knowing full well I'd die, slowly and terribly, only hoping she’d run. She didn't, tough little thing. She just hid and shot ‘em when they were focused on trying to hold me down and hack my damned arm off. And then dragged my unconscious person for days to find help. What little I did to get us outside those walls wasn’t all that effort, really.”

“Ezra. It’s okay to be grateful to a child. You saved one another from a truly terrible ordeal, and now you’re safe.”

He hums and swirls the now-cool herbal tea he has cupped against his chest. You’re both at odd ends of his couch, knees up on the seat and facing one another. The sun is finally going down outside, nearing full spring now, with longer, hotter days looming.

“Soleil,” he says, and sets his mug on the upturned crate in front of the sofa, acting as a coffee table. “Allow me to press my luck a bit. If you are free to do so, and interested, I would very much like to kiss you. Or- or simply hold you, if that is not too impertinent a request.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches your cheeks to almost hurting as you copy him and set your own mug on the table. “Just one?” You tease, sliding forward on your knees until you’re on your right hip, knees against the back of the couch, your whole front leaning into his. It opens his left side up to hook his arm around you, his armless right side against the couch backing.

You’d give anything to get a picture of his face right this second, as you lean in, to keep forever. His dark eyes drop wide, soaking you in, and he leans down to carefully put his face in your path, still asking. In answer, you tip your chin up and let your lips meet in a chaste press, only the tiniest bit wet in the center.

“I may– need more than one, soleil,” he admits, and you huff a laugh. “Will you– mmff,” you cut him off by pulling his chin back toward you, opening up and letting him finally lick inside.

You both taste like tea and it’s warm and wet, something terribly soft and domestic that you haven't had in years. That you hadn't even remembered wanting in years.

The angle is awkward and both too far away and yet a link is developing in your neck from curving it. Ezra’s arm clutches you to him, his hand tight on your side and other shoulder moving, wanting desperately to pull you even closer, it seems. In response, you get onto your knees above him and pull away.

“Can I?” You ask, indicating a straddle, and his eyes blow wide, a pink tongue appearing to wet his lips.

“Christ, yes,” he pants, and you can't help another pleased smile as you throw your leg over his lap and settle down on his thighs. “You’ll tell me, soleil, chérie, if I get too ah– handsy. It has been. Years, actually, since I've been on the receiving end of such compassion.”

“Ezra,” you say firmly, tipping his face up to yours with a hand in his hair. Your other hand cups his chin, ticks a thumb over the silver half moon scar under his eye. “I will. Shut up and kiss me.”

“Ouais, soleil,” he mutters against your tongue, laving his own against it before sucking your bottom lip between his teeth to scrape it.

Long minutes pass, your hands in his curls, steering him and pulling back to tease with little sips against his panting mouth. His hand grips your ass a scant second before he hauls you closer, grinding you properly against his hardness.

“You are teasing me, radieux. Tell me if–”

“I said I would. Same goes. Where’s Cee, since we’re on the damn couch, like a couple of teenagers?” You ask, licking your own puffy, tender lips as you reach between you, deftly sliding your fingers behind the button of his jeans. You feel his belly hitch, as if ticklish, and snap your gaze back up to his.

“I’m not exactly sure. She went out with Ellie. But she’s usually back by dark.”

You both glance out the window to see it’s getting dim, the skuly going grey and orange and pink. “I have to stay at my house,” you say, accepting another kiss as Ezra sways back into you. He frowns, his brow furrowing against your lips, but lets you go easy as anything. You snort a laugh and push back, taking your fingers out of his jeans.

He frowns harder, pouting up at you.

“I’m the only doctor, sweet boy. And we don't have phones. They gotta know where to find me, if I'm needed overnight.”

“Ah, that’s alright,” he says, and manages to look only a little put out.

It makes you giggle again, a breathy thing that doesn't dampen your smile at all. You curl your fingers in the scruff under his chin and tip his face up again, against the backing of the sofa, and lean your chest against his. Ezra licks his lips furtively and swallows against your knuckles, relaxing back into the sofa as you press all up against him. His hand latches around your hip, holding you close.

“No one said you couldn't come to mine, though. Leave a note for Cee? Will she be okay?”

“Ah– I'd hate to spring it on her the first time, her just come back to an empty house and a note. She’s still a little jumpy. She’ll be here soon though, and I'll ask how she feels. If you want,” he adds, unsure if the moment has passed. He’s hard as a rock under you but you’re still in your jeans; he can’t tell if you're slick already or not.

He wants to think so.

You slide off his lap but stay close, allowing him to keep one leg stretched across his knees while you trade more questions and stories.

Ezra is spinning a tale about his cousin’s shrimping boat and a massive boil his whole family had done after. The phrase shrimps as big as a baby’s arm is bandied about, and then there is a clatter of boots on the porch.

Cee flings open the door, with Ellie on her heels. They're both grinning ear to ear and giggling but freeze when they spot you both on the sofa.

“Oh, hey.”

Ezra raises a brow and smirks. “Hey yourself.” He hangs his head to the side to peek around her. “Hello, Ellie.”

She waves. Cee frowns at you and Ezra. “We figured you’d be uh. Upstairs. Or out.”

Ezra and you both snort at her awkward hint. “As a matter of fact I was waiting on you. Didn't want to hike off and leave you alone, overnight, without warning. I assume that's not an imposition, then?” He leans his head to the side and peers at Ellie. “Your dad say you could stay?”

“He’s not–” she gets cut off by both your sharp frown and Cee’s excited interruption.

“Joel said I could stay there, actually. I was coming to get some sleep clothes.”

“Ah.” Ezra turns and glances at you, and you shrug.

“Alright. Well I'll be across the road if you need me. At Sunny’s,” he clarifies. “So I guess next door to you.”

Ellie isn't fazed but Cee makes a face and makes for the stairs to go up to her room. “Gross. See you tomorrow, then?”

Ezra chuckles. “You better get to school on time tomorrow. Other than that, you two have fun,” he smiles at her exaggerated eyeroll and winks at Ellie when the girls clop noisily up the stairs.

By the time they clatter back down with a stuffed backpack and matching grins and giggles, you're waiting by the door while Ezra waters his sprouting seeds on the patio out back.

“Be safe,” Ellie teases, ducking your harmless swipe.

“Same goes,” you tease, making a two-finger V in front of your mouth and giving her a salacious wink. Predictably, she turns beet red and scowls at you. Cee is busy tying her boots, thankfully oblivious to your gesture. By the time she's upright, Ellie has schooled her face and painted on her usual careless smirk, despite the pink dusting her cheeks.

“Have a good night, girls. See you tomorrow after school, Cee,” you wave them off. They hop off the last step of the porch just as Ezra comes back inside. He washes his hand and dries it, shoves his feet into his boots, tucks his keys into the pocket of his backpack, and lofts an eyebrow at you.

“Ready, soleil?” he slings his bag over his empty shoulder and laces his arm through the other strap.

It’s hard not to think of Joel while you're escorting another man to your house with every intention of sleeping with him. The fact that Joel is next door playing parent with the girls, including the ward of the man you're taking home to fuck, quite possibly peeking out of the curtains watching them (or you) walk across... You have to wonder if he's letting Cee stay because of Ellie, or because it gives him an easy excuse to keep hiding from you.

What if he sees you letting Ezra in? Or catches you both leaving for the clinic in the morning?

Does it fucking matter? When he's the one who stepped back, and left you hanging?

Should it?

Ezra interrupts your thoughts by catching your hand and holding it gently, tucking your fingers between his in a light squeeze with an easy smile.

Your heart thuds, delighted, and you squeeze back.

_______________

The second you close and lock your front door, Ezra's mouth is on you. He drops his bag and kicks his boots into the tray beside yours, pressing you slow and easy into the wall by the coat hooks, his hand curled protectively behind your head. You laugh into the kiss, feeling ridiculous and joyful.

He isn't pushy, or demanding. Not that you mind those things at all, with the right person delivering them to you.

Instead, Ezra tucks his fingers under your chin and tips you up, and sups a sweet, lingering kiss from your mouth. With his chest and belly keeping you upright between his long, lean weight and the wall, your knees soften and he is there, holding onto you with a low chuckle.

“How about you show me the way to your room, soleil, and I'll keep makin’ those knees weak. Once you don't need ‘em, of course.”

You snort and finish taking off your outerwear, leaving your keys hanging on the designated hook. You check the back door and leave a low light on in the kitchen, leading him up to your room.

Your house is the strange little cottage on your road, one of the oldest in town and obvious for that fact. It's an old A-frame with an abutment built at the edge of what would have been a forest before the land was cleared and developed decades past. The bottom level is a large open den and kitchen with a full bath tucked under the stairs and a small spare room to the other side. Up a narrow set of stairs, the loft is an open bedroom, where you prefer to sleep so you can hear everything in the house. If someone comes banging, asking for your care, you’ll hear it.

You lead Ezra to the stairs and push him up ahead of you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, one sec. Go get comfy,” you say, and dash under the stairs to the doorway. You scrub your teeth and hands and run a wet rag over your bits and pits, hoping for the best.

If he didn't care about your breath or scent an hour ago, he won't now, you reason, and go back out to climb the stairs.

Upstairs is a large flat space, taking up half the room below it. There’s a toilet in a closet up here but no bath. Your bed and a dresser is up here, along with an old mirror and your chest of spare blankets. Your bed is soft and big enough for two. Ezra is stretched across it, above the blankets and still dressed.

“I wasn't entirely sure of your intentions, soleil. I want you to be explicit in your demands, and also to be aware that I do intend to court you beyond anything that happens tonight. If you don't want that, you best tell me now before I find myself acting the fool.”

“Ezra, shut up,” you giggle, pulling off your socks and undoing your jeans, leaving them open on your hips. “You are free to court me, you old rake.” He grins at your playful insult. “I don't mind casual. But I like you. And I think I'd like more, if you do, too. Sounds like it,” you shrug, and he nods fervently.

“I do, chérie. Any night I can sleep by you, hold you, would be a night well spent. And any day workin’ alongside you, or catching lunch at the mess hall. Or being out foraging,” he smiles wide and soft, his dark eyes fathomless pools. “Come here, please. Let me love you.”

You shuck your clothes and crawl onto him, letting Ezra claim your mouth while you work on his jeans and push them down his hips. He lifts them obligingly, kicking out of the garment once you get it to his knees. He tips upward and lets you pull his shirt up and off, leaving you both blessedly naked.

“Anything you don't want?” You ask against his mouth, already panting. Your slick has to be soaking his thigh by now from rutting, from how wet you've been since he’d asked to kiss you so sweetly.

“I’ll take anything you want to give,” he sighs, his hand ghosting up the curve of your ribs, marveling at your soft skin. He thumbs an errant scar here and there, evidence of life outside these walls, and kisses you again. “I want to taste you,” he says, pulling on your hip. You start to roll off so he can spread you on your back, but he tightens his grip.

“Sit on my face, soleil. I want to use my hand, and I won't be able to if I have to use it for balance.”

“Ezra,” you chastise, thinking of your weight and the mangled state of his face the day you met him, months ago now. His nose should be healed, you think fleetingly. He chases the thought away with another wicked kiss and tugs on you again.

“Come on, I would like nothing more than to be smothered in you, soleil.” He nips playfully at the inside of your knee as you give in and crawl upward with the urging of his hand on your hip.

With your knees bracketing his head and your feet tucked around his shoulders, Ezra urges your weight down. You had done this before, but it had been a long time. Joel preferred to have you against a wall, your legs over his shoulders, or under him, spread out and boneless.

Ezra wants to make it clear that he’s there to service you, in the most efficient way possible for him to do so while missing a major limb. You on top, controlling the pace and hopefully still going boneless enough to properly sit on him (if he can weaken your knees enough) that's what he wants. Suffocate him, he won't complain with a single syllable.

Ezra nuzzles into you, spreading your lips with his sharp nose gliding smoothly through your slick folds, his flattened tongue following to lap your honey up. He laves against your clit and sucks on it firmly before moving back down. You gaps, rocking your hips for more, giving in to his demanding hand on your hip. He pulls you down further so he doesn't have to reach.

He spears his tongue up into you, drawing more slick out to spread it around, encouraging you to thrust against his nose and chin. The scruff of his cheeks tickles your thighs, his mustache zinging little bursts of pleasure when you rub your clit over his open mouth.

“Oh, fuck– Ezra, I want you in me. Too empty,” you whine, clenching around nothing. He obliges with a groan, sliding his tongue back into you and bringing his hand up.

“Come back a bit, soleil. Let me suck you while you ride my hand,” he grits, impaling you with his two middle fingers, curling them with devastating agility against that spongy spot inside. In the next breath he sucks your clit between his lips, kneading it and then rubbing his tongue along the tender pearl inside until you're throbbing. You’ve got a hand fisted in his hair before you know it, your panting sounding far too loud in the loft.

Slick paints his cheeks and chin, threatening to drip down the curve of his neck as he works you. Ezra’s own stiff arousal is neglected, bobbing in the cool air as his hips stutter helplessly upward. He notices you turning to wrap a hand around him and makes a loud slurp as he detaches from your mound.

“Leave it, chérie. I want you to focus on feeling this right now, I want you to come, then you can do whatever you like. Come, now,” he demands, pulling you back to him. You curl your nails back in his fringe and buck on his fingers as he slides them back into you, three this time– pressing deeper and curling more firmly. He laps at your clit with the flat of his tongue, worrying it like a lolly.

Abruptly, with a strangled cry, you shatter around his digits.

“So good, chérie, give me all that cream. Squeezing me so tight, oh–” Ezra gives you a final lick, murmuring praise against your mound until you sit back and crawl down between his knees.

“Gonna suck you,” you gasp, still shivering back into your skin.

There’s nothing for it- Ezra’s got a stupidly beautiful package. It matches the stupidly cute look of shock and adoration on his face.

His cock is the perfect weight on your tongue, a nice handful, girthy and perhaps seven or eight inches. The ruddy, pinkish brown foreskin cups his ccokhead tightly, offering a smooth glide as you tug on his length a few times and press a kiss to his weeping tip.

“Oh shit. Oh, please soleil. I won't last a minute. I’m far too- worked up!” He chokes, hips stuttering when you lick up the rib on the underside.

“How long has it been, Ezra?” You ask, your voice like smoke. He blinks at the skylight above your bed, trying to think.

“I– years? Probably– oh shit. Probably two years?”

Instead of responding, you suck him down expertly and squeeze your tonsils around his tip. A desperate groan presses up out of his chest, his hand scrabbling in the sheets. You catch his wrist and bring it to your head, letting him hold on.

A little clumsily, he twines his fingers in your hair, not pulling intentionally but keeping you close. You bury your nose in the base of him, swallowing, and he groans, thighs flexing as he fights not to buck up and choke you.

“Oh, christ– soleil you– you’re so good. Oh, fuck!”

You pull off him and stroke a few times, teasing the weeping tip with your tongue and lips while he writhes, panting praise and gasping. It makes you feel surprisingly powerful, reducing a man to this, and you relish in it. A few more strokes of your tongue, a bit more suction and he's begging, asking you to pull off if you don't want it in your mouth. In answer, you press your nose into his pubic hair and swallow, taking him whole as he pulses on your tongue.

After, when he’s boneless and well- sated on your bed, you lay on his shoulder and twirl your fingertips through his sparse chest hair. You finally ask:

“Two years since you had a blowjob?”

Ezra chuckles sleepily, scrubbing his hand down his face and dropping it back to drape over your side. “I don’t think you understand exactly what kind of mess I'm coming from, chérie. The fact my dick is still even attached is a miracle after what those smugglers did to me. Wasn't much chance for using it in the mines, either. They worked us twelve or eighteen hours most days, and I slept in the shafts half the time. There was an inherent lack of desire, to be honest. That level of terror and anxiety, day in and day out, it takes its toll. All that aside from the fact that the girls in the brothel were practically children, and often far from willing. I had a - friend, I suppose, and we found some mutual stress relief in one another. When they died in a shaft collapse, I didn't expend the effort to replace them.”

You're quiet for a long moment, petting and relaxing. It doesn't feel right to apologize; he’ll just brush it off as pity, which doesn't fit right. You roll away a bit, urging him to face you so you can trace his eyebrows, stroke down the hook of his nose and the pillow of his bottom lip. He’s practically in a trance by the time you speak up,pulled by your softness. “I’m glad you got out, and are here, Ezra,” you decide on.

It appears to be the right thing to say. He rolls onto you and smothers you with kisses until you have to break away for air. “I am overjoyed, soleil. Sometimes– most of the time, it doesn't seem real. Like I must have died, and this is some sort of shockingly- pleasant afterlife. Or that I finally submitted to the psychosis of my prior imprisonment.” He buries his face in between your breasts and lays on you, listening to your heartbeat under his ear as it slowly calms. You card your fingers through his hair, petting gently until he’s snoring. It only takes a few minutes, which makes you huff a laugh, trying not to wake him.

You too doze off under his comfortable weight, waking in the night to pee and crawling back under the coverlet against him. He stirs a few times, curling against you and dragging you close.

When you wake, it’s fully bright out, late morning, and pleasantly cool in the house. Ezra is spooned up behind you, his arm curled under your neck and wrapped around your front, your hips nested and legs entwined.

It's almost unbearably comfortable, and you want to stay here all day instead of getting up and preparing for a day at the clinic. You lay silently for several minutes, basking in the warmth of the body pressed up behind you, the press of his lean belly, soft with sleep, against your lower back and the thighs nested under your rump.

Too soon, your bladder makes you aware of the need to get up. You groan under your breath, unwilling to move at all but already loosening Ezra’s arm from your ribs. He inhales sharply, half sitting in a daze and blinking around the room.

“Hey, you’re okay. I have to pee and get ready,” you say quietly, petting the white tuft at his temple. He nuzzles into your hand and then exhales heavily, flopping back to the bed.

Ezra yawns hugely, stretching his whole long body out and then sprawling in a lazy spool of limbs, shamelessly nude and adorably mussed. “Want company?” He husks, voice still claggy with sleep.

You snort, dropping a kiss on his scruffy chin. “If you want.”

You pad downstairs to the bathroom and start the water, letting it warm while you pee. When you step into the tub, you hear the stairs above you creak, indicating that Ezra is following. A moment later, you hear him going through his own ablutions before a tickly kiss is dropped onto your shoulder.

After doing your own, you reach up and behind your own head to scrub lather into his short curls, scritching over his scalp, and soak up all the skin pressed against yours under the warm spray.

In less than an hour, it's back to reality. But for now, it's wonderful.

_______________

A week later, after a few more nights of similar exploration and pleasant sleep, there is a knock on your door just as you're finishing cooking dinner. Ezra is sat at your island, laughing through a retelling of Cee’s school drama this week (the laughter is in empathy - she had been asked out by a notoriously misogynistic boy in the class above hers and had been appalled). He jumps up to get the door while you plate, hoping it's not the clinic but getting it is.

“Yeah I'll grab her. Come in? Soleil!” Ezra calls, coming back past the narrow half- wall separating the den and kitchen. “It’s Joel.”

“Oh,” you say, frowning. “Okay. Go ahead and eat,” you push a plate of seared cabbage and beans drizzled in sauce at him and drop a kiss on his cheekbone. He wraps his fingers around your wrist in thanks, soft as a breeze, and smiles at you.

As you turn to go meet Joel, Ezra's thumb strokes the back of your hand before he lets it drop, letting you go to create some privacy for what is likely about to be a tense conversation.

Joel is leaning by your mantle, cross-armed and looking utterly exhausted when you come into your den.

“Hey,” you say, stopping in front of him.

“Hey,” he parrots, frowning harder, like he’s ready to turn tail at the slightest hint you want him gone.

“Do you need something?” You ask. It's like pulling teeth getting the man to talk sometimes.

“I need to talk to you. Do you wanna go to the porch, or do you want me to come by, ‘nother time?” you don't miss his furtive glance toward the kitchen, mostly hidden by a blink.

You swallow, looking up at him. “I’ll overthink it if we don’t do it now.”

Joel nods in understanding. “Lead on, hon.”

You usher him into your spare room, which is sparsely set basically the way Tommy and Maria had left it some years ago when you’d arrived. He stands in the middle of it, glaring at the four walls and the unmade single bed and empty, open chest, while you shut the door and turn to face him. You hope furiously that you're not blushing too hard.

God, how in the fuck did you forget how hot he is? How much space he takes up; the presence?

“What did you want to–”

“I miss you,” Joel interrupts, barely saying the words in a low, quiet, but firm tone. You blink at him, trying to digest it.

“I’m–”

“I know you’re— look, let me say what I gotta say, or it ain’t gonna come out. I know you're with the new guy. Ezra. He’s probably more… More what you're lookin’ for in a lot of ways. But darlin’, I. I know I’ve not done a lot of good in the last twenty years. But you make me feel like I could. Like I want to. And I haven't had that, except for you and Ellie, not since Outbreak Day. And she’s moving on. I’m losing her. I’m going to. And I pushed you away because I don't want to lose you, too. And I bet you saw that comin’ a mile away- you always do. Because you're so damned smart, and good. I know you're with him. But I wanted to know if– if you wanted to try bein’ with us both?”

You stay quiet, knowing he's not done, but you can't help your eyebrows hitting the ceiling on that one. Possessive, protective Joel Miller…. open to sharing?

“I know how it sounds. But I know you love me. I know it. And I hate breakin’ your heart when I hole up into myself. But I can't help it sometimes. I’m tryin’, though. You an’ Ellie are making me try. If you had us both, you could have the softness he gives, the- the home life that I can’t - can’t handle, even if I want to, for you. And with me, you get– whatever it is you see in me.”

He nods at you, seemingly done and looking for all the world like he’s waiting for the sword of Damocles to fall swiftly.

“What about Ezra?” You ask, deciding to see how much Joel has even thought about this harebrained scheme.

“We’d… Ellie called it a poly-cule? Sometimes you're with me, sometimes you're with him, or alone. We just– share, but have our own spaces? And I'll work on my problems. I will.” He insists at your arched brow.

“But I think being with you steady and having a settled deal so I won't- can’t back out without a fight is going to help. Because sweetheart, you been too good to me. You let me go, every time. And I'm grateful for that, because I think I would’a been real mean if you hadn’t, and you don't deserve that, but it hurts. And I know it hurts you, which makes it worse.”

“And what if I wanted to have a threesome? Or if he wanted to kiss you?” You keep your face carefully devoid of emotion while you feel for the cracks in those infamous emotional walls.

“I don’t. Uh. My gut immediately said no, but truthfully, hon. I might. but– only if you're there. I don’t – don't have any interest, there, not like that.”

You're quiet for a minute and nod, chewing your lip. “Is it my turn to go?”

“Yeah. Go on.”

“I do miss you. A lot. I think about you all the time. And I'm sure Cam has been filling your ears with all kinds of nonsense about our foraging trips. But I like Ezra. A lot. He's sweet, and goofy, and easy. I’ll talk to him. He may be more interested than you’re giving him credit for.”

Joel nods, his jaw working, staring somewhere around your knees. “Alright.”

“But,” you start, stepping closer, and then again when he straightens and blinks up at your face. “What this isn't going to be is an excuse to run off with your tail between your legs every time someone notes that we’re together. It's not an excuse to fuck me behind his back or cut him out when it's convenient for you. We talk, we negotiate and we’re open, or we don't even try it. Can you do that?”

Looking surprisingly chastened, Joel nods.

“Alright. Go eat and get some sleep, you look half dead. Want some of what we have? I can make up a container.”

“Nah, Ellie’s note on the door said she cooked an’ left me some. Thanks,” he adds, feeling abruptly very awkward. He’d like to go pretend this conversation never happened for a day or two, but that's exactly what you’re getting at.

“Alright. Come on,” you open the door and lead him back to the front, only a little surprised to not see Ezra lurking about, trying to overhear. You hear him clinking about in the kitchen.

Joel stops on the porch, looking back at you. His fingertips rub against the pad of his thumb, an anxious tell. You raise an eyebrow, waiting. “Can I– uh.”

“I'm not gonna kiss you ‘til I talk to him, Miller,” you tease, giving him a smile. He huffs and shuffles his feet.

“No, I was going to ask for a hug. You always. You give good hugs,” he mutters, seeming annoyed with the fact. You snort at him and step out onto the porch, letting him fold you into a hug that arches you backwards with the weight of it.

“Oof,” you exhale into his flannel, and wrap your arms around his ribs. He squeezes you to him firmly, once, and lets go.

“Thanks, uhm. Go talk to him. You know where to find me.”

“Alright,” you say, and watch him clop down the stairs and around the fence into his own yard.

You go back inside to find Ezra still sitting at the island, pushing his food around with a fork. He straightens when he sees you, trying to appear poker- faced and failing miserably. He’s anxious as fuck.

“Anything to report, soleil?” He asks quietly. You smile at him and huff a disparaging laugh.

“Yeah, actually.” You scarf down the last few bites of your food and take up the plates, putting them in the sink. When you turn around and lean on the counter, his eyes are dark, watching you carefully.

“Come on, chérie. It’s time to gut the fencer. Lay it on me.”

“He, uhm. He wants to know if we are interested in an open relationship. Like a poly situation.”

Ezra sits straight and blinks at you, baffled. “The man purported around town to be so possessive of you that he broke a man’s nose for flirting with you at the bar…. Wants to have a sharing arrangement?”

You can't help but chuckle. He's not wrong. “I’m just as shocked as you are. He said it was Tommy’s idea. Maybe I should go ask him what on earth he said to convince Joel it was a decent idea.”

“How do you feel about it?” Ezra asks, his furrowed brow smoothing out.

You shrug and shake your head. “I don't know. I don't want either of you to get upset enough to leave for good. I like you, baby. A lot. And yeah, I miss him, but being with you has helped, made it go away for the most part. But when he is around it's like salt in a wound. Maybe this would help, but I'm not willing to lose you over it. How do you feel about it?”

“I would be lying if I said I wasn't a bit covetous of you. But I have been in such relationships before, chérie. Communication is key. And from what I understand, your old man isn’t the best at that. But I am happy to properly meet him and discuss this if you wish.”

And he does, quicker than you expected. You wake up alone and walk to the clinic alone the next day, your brow furrowed in confusion until you round the corner onto the main street and see Ezra leaning against the porch of the clinic, talking to Joel. You assume that Ezra had simply woken and waited for the girls to come out of Joel’s house, and then struck up a conversation and followed Joel as he escorted the girls to school. With no teens to be seen and a massive rifle hanging off Joel’s shoulder for rounds, that is the most likely story. Your sweet- talking, loquacious partner is certainly bending Joel’s ear, by the look of it.

“Hey,” you say, stopping a few feet away. Ezra squints at you in the bright morning sun and grins.

“Good morning, soleil. Apologies for leavin’ you to wake up cold; I saw my opportunity and struck after it.”

Their conversation must have been decent. Joel barely even rolls his eyes at Ezra’s explanation. You can't help the amused huff that escapes you. “Mornin’ to you too, grump.” You wink at Joel and he harrumphs at you.

“G’mornin’ hon.”

“You got patrol today?”

“Mmm,” he nods, adjusting the hang of the gun on his shoulder. “Goin’ to check that resort about three miles up into the mountains, now the snow’s melted.”

“Yikes. Keep awares. You’ll be back by dark?”

“Yes ma’am,” he drawls. Ezra is watching you back and forth, like someone sat on the net of a tennis match. Joel shifts his weight and holds up a hand like he’s asking for yours.

When you step forward and drop your hand in his, he drops a kiss on your knuckles, leaving you a little stunned, and turns away.

“Y’all have a good day. See you tonight,” he calls over his shoulder, already stalking off with his shoulders up around his ears. You snort and flex your hand, looking back at Ezra. He looks bemused.

“What?” you ask, giggling at his look.

“Oh nothin’. The old man just asked what I did to win you over, and I said lots of little touches and even more kisses. And that you like bein’ around your people, and not by yourself.”

You nod, scuffing your boots in the grass. “That's a fair synopsis.”

Ezra watches you another moment and stands, stepping closer. He hooks his hand around your backpack strap and reels you in, grinning. “I gotta go to the nursery today, soleil. But I will be here with bells on at lunchtime.”

“Alright. Have a good day, baby.” You give him a kiss with your hand cupped around his jaw, and he squeezes you close round the ribs for a beat before letting you go unlock the clinic. When you're inside, he waves and ambles off in the direction of the nursery.

_______________

Joel is annoyed.

His trailmates today consist of Tommy, two young trigger-happy idiots he calls the Dukes of Hazzard, a grizzled masc woman named Peg, and Cam.

Tommy started the trail out by pairing the young ones off at the tail, he and Joel in the center, and Peg and Cam on the scout front. Joel’s good ear is on the outside of the group, his flank covered by effective if jumpy kids, and he’s on his preferred mount, a roan horse called Strawberry.

That ain't what he’s annoyed by.

He’s annoyed that Tommy keeps loudly asking him about you.

“Saw you talkin’ to her man this mornin’ while I was getting trail rations at the grocer. What's that about?”

Joel just harrumphs at him and tightens the reins in his fist.

“Aw come on, brother. Did you talk to them?”

He is met with more silence. Tommy lets it be for maybe half a mile.

“Y’know. I’ll switch you and Cam out on their supply runs if you want. They’re due to go out again next week.” Tommy hides his smirk when Joel finally glances his way, curiosity heavy on his brow.

“Yeah?”

Tommy can't help but snort a laugh. “Yeah, I'm sure he’s tired of them anyhow. Might as well be three lovebirds ‘stead of two and an awkward watchman.”

Joel scowls at him, and Tommy just grins.

“Don't call me that,” Joel grumbles, driving his heels into Strawberry’s sides to get her to push forward a few yards, gain some distance.

“I won’t if you start actin’ like it, and give me some details! Or I can keep ribbing you!”

Joel just huffs and takes the verbal beating. He can't give details he doesn't have, and he doesn't think he’d share them anyway.

They get to the resort and find a huge stash of salt for the pools and roads, medicine in a meebay wing, and some tinned food. They haul everything they can carry back to Jackson and, barring a sprained ankle on Peg (exacerbating a prior injury; she walks it off) there were no injuries to report.

By the time Joel is walking to the end of Rancher Street, it’s dark. Your lights are on, and Ezra’s are dark. Joel peeks around the side of his house and sees the garage light on. Ellie’s in there, probably working away on her little hideaway. He stands there in the driveway for a long moment, wanting to see her and wanting to see you.

In the end, Ellie makes the choice for him.

“JOEL!” she shouts, throwing the door to the garage open and cupping both hands around her mouth. He winces and moves, letting her eyes catch on him in the drive.

“Stop yellin’,” he grouses, walking to her. She’s ushering him into her little house, talking a mile a minute. Cee is there, on a sofa, reading a graphic novel. She glances up at him when he walks in and waves. He nods back.

“What’d you need?”

“Can you help me build a shelf, for right here?” She points to a rectangle of space on one wall and moves her hands up and down like she’s miming the shape of a bookshelf.

“Like on the wall or like a bookshelf?” He asks, eyeing the space.

“A bookshelf!”

Joel lets a smile tick up one side of his face. “Alright. I’ll see what wood I can rustle up. You girls ate yet?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” the both chime in. “Left you some on the stove,” Ellie adds, going back to sit on the loveseat by Cee.

Feeling dismissed, Joel nods. “Okay. Thanks, kiddo. G’night. Night, Cee,” he says to their twinned waves, and sees himself out.

When he’s on the last step of his back porch, you open your back door and lean in the doorframe. “Hey stranger,” you say, and he pauses. He can hear the faint clink behind you in the kitchen, implying that Ezra is over.

“Hey yourself,” he replies, leaning on the porch railing.

“Good run today?”

Joel shrugs, “No injuries, got some goodies. Got harassed by my damn brother.”

You laugh, and he can’t help but smile. He’s missed the sound of your laugh. “About me?”

“‘bout both’a you,” he says, pointing at the door behind you with his chin. Mirth twinkles in your eyes and he heaves a weary sigh. “I’m off rounds tomorrow, if you wanna talk. But I'm beat tonight, hon. Not sure I can take much conversation.”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to stay over, sleep it off, actually.”

Joel freezes, watching you carefully. You recognize the look; he gives it to other people often enough. Trying to figure out their angle, why they’re goading him, and whether it's worth it.

“He’s not stayin’?”

You shrug. “He doesn't have to. He’s the one that offered, actually. Come on,” you say, winking, and disappear back inside.

Joel stays there another second, deciding, before coming to the conclusion that there is no decision. He wants to sleep next to you, even if Ezra is on your other side. He goes into his own house and snags a change of clothes and his toothbrush and goes back out the back door, locking it and calling out for Ellie.

“Going next door for the night!” He waits for her Okay to carry back across the driveway and hops the low fence over to your side, clambering up your narrow back steps to your door.

Joel enters your house and hears you talking from the living room. He follows through the kitchen to the half wall and into the larger room, spotting you and Ezra sitting on the sofa, chatting.

“Uh. Hey,” he says, pausing in the doorway.

“Hey yourself,” You give him a beaming smile and scoot over, patting the far end of the couch for him to join you. Ezra is on one end, you in the middle. “Come here if you want. Or, you can abuse my shower if you prefer.”

Joel presses his molars together and sits. He glances at Ezra, who is watching you and Joel both with a faint smile ticking up his mouth. Joel nods at him and waits for you to initiate conversation. It’s quiet for a long moment.

“I was just going,” Ezra says, just as Joel gives in and breaks his silence.

“I don't care if you stay.”

“Oh,” Ezra says, glancing at you.

“My bed is big enough. I’ll gladly be the center of attention,” you chuckle.

And so, fifteen minutes later, you’re stretched out in bed facing Ezra, nearly asleep in the face of his soft snores. The man can fall asleep on a fence line now that he’s safe. Your face is tucked into his chest, his arm limp on the bed between your bodies.

Joel pads quietly up to the loft and comes around to the open space behind you, kneeling on the mattress and stretching out with an old man groan. You exhale sharply in a silent laugh, reaching back for his hand. Joel rolls to spoon up behind you, settling your bum on his thighs and his belly in the arch of your lower back, just the way you like. He hums against your hairline, wrapping his arm around your waist. His skin is just slightly damp from the shower, smelling like the town’s green soap, your favorite, hoarded in chips and fragments of bars in your linen cabinet to preserve it.

“Missed you,” Joel whispers against your nape, and you turn your face up to the ceiling, glancing back at him. Your arm lifts and bends back, fingers curling in his damp hair.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back. He kisses your cheekbone and squeezes you round the ribs once before resettling. You feel him slowly loosen against you until his snores softly mingle with Ezra’s, pulling you to sleep.

In the dim morning, the backs of Ezra’s knuckles are resting against Joel’s belly, his arm loose over the dip of your waist, sandwiched between your back and Joel’s softness. Joel is in much the same position, his arm spooled out over your hip, unmoved since he woke up when the sunlight brightened above your bed. He can feel each of Ezra's even breaths against his knuckles, the tickle of his sparse chest hair since he’d gone to bed in just shorts.

He thinks vaguely that he should be offended, repelled. He should flinch back and move his arm, pull away from such a casual, careless touch. He’s meant to be cuddling you, not sharing a cuddle with him. His next thought is that moving away will surely wake you, and he doesn't want that, at all. He wants to lay here. He wants to be still and soft and comfortable, even touching Ezra.

He stays.

AN: if you finished or came back from part 1 for more, that means you liked it! please like and reblog! this is not an archive, views depend on your sharing! (so does my continued writing!)

Part 3 should go up on ao3 this weekend! bookmark and sub there for the quickest updates!

Edit: link to part 3: link

#ezra (prospect)#prospect (2018)#joel the last of us #joel miller #joel x reader #ezra x reader #joel x reader x ezra #poly dynamics #the last of us

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killingfrankie · 2 months

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MY THOUGHTS ON THE OBC CAST RECORDING OF MEAN GIRLS.

‘A Cautionary Tale’: Honestly the best start to a musical ever. I’m obsessed with this song so much it’s insane. The little ‘nice’ from Damian and then ‘thank you’ from Janis after the ‘you can’t buy integrity from the mall’ line is SO SATISFYING. So good.

‘It Roars’: The transition into this song is so seamless and perfect and it’s so catchy. It shows how separated Cady is from society and it helps make sense of who she is, why she acts the way she does and how enthusiastic she is to finally join a more “normal community/society”. Does that make sense?. I am personally thankful that it was cut from the movie and replaced by ‘What Ifs’ because I just don't think it would’ve translated well. And that’s okay! Some things are better left untouched.

‘Where Do You Belong?’: “your mother called you babygirl?” “singing ha ha ha” SO GOOD. Damian is so funny. In the musical and the new movie Damian has so much more personality and more of a backstory and it’s so good. SO MAD THIS WAS CUT THOUGH. Grey slayed this song. The introduction to Damian and Janis for Cady. Perfect.

‘Meet The Plastics’: Silly silly Cady so so so curious. The way they describe the plastics in the beginning💀so funny. “MY NAME IS REGINA GEEEEORRRRRRRGE” LITERAL FUCKING CHILLS I LOVE TAYLOR LOUDERMAN. Her intro is so fucking real. HATE the 115 line tho. Thank goodness they changed it. Mad they cut karen and Gretchen’s parts from the movie tho 🙁 GRETCHEN’S VERSE IS SO GOOD BRO. straight and to the point. Karen’s intro is so funny. I love Karen. They could never make me hate her. “That’s it! :D” kate rockwell oh how i love you. WHEN ALL THEIR VERSES MERGE IS SO GOOD. i'm personally a Regina girl so I sing the ‘heeeeeres where you belong here's where you belong.’ “NO REALLY SAY IT.” SO GOOD. “come sit with us tomorrow! It’ll be fetch!”

‘Stupid With Love’: LOOOOOOVE. I used to not really like this song but it’s grown on me a lot and I love how unhinged Erika gets. “Do you have an eraser?” “i would love to :3” cadyyyyyyyy heroooonnnnnn. SO GOOD. “jinx!” “ha ^_^ IM ASTOUNDED AND NONPLUSSED. I AM FILLED WITH CALCULUST.” I LOVE HER. this song is so good. I also personally really like Angourie’s version too.

‘Apex Predator’: i can play this song on piano. SO GOOD. i love this song so much. Have you guys seen rachel zeglers cover? Cady using metaphors to present Regina’s behaviour and her power is so clever and it’s just so fun to listen to. When janis and cady both sing “she’s queen of beasts” THEY SOUND SO GOOD TOGETHER BRO. “HOW CAN YOU OUTSMAAAAARRRRRRRT THE APEX PREDATOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR”

‘What’s Wrong With Me?’: Gretchen :((( I feel like i cry to this song a lot. It’s just like, gretchen, honey, you dont deserve this. “Mama called me beautiful. Dont believe her anymore, now im listening to you.” REGINA LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS SHE’S JUST A BABY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 the final “WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME” AND SHE BELTS. SO GOOD. translated so well on screen.

‘Stupid With Love (Reprise)’: i’ve never been a big fan of aaron but i don’t have any issues with him but this is satisfying to listen to. “So i’m swearing off of dating.” “Shit.🥲” . “hey whats the date?” “october 3rd! MY NEW FAVOURITE DAY!”

‘Sexy’: KAREN I LOVE YOU. this song translates so well onto screen from stage. Kate slayed this song and so did avantika. I love how passionate karen is about halloween. This song is such a BOP too. The beat is so addicting. “I CAN BE” ateeee. She knows who she is and she SLAYED. When she lists the costumes. Chefs kiss. The whole sex cancer bit is so good. Thank you for curing sex cancer karen! “THIS IS MODERN FEMINISM TALKING. I EXPECT TO RUN THE WORLD IN SHOES I CANNOT WALK IN.” ICONIC. PERFECT. INCREDIBLE.

‘Someone Gets Hurt’: literal chills. Like actual goosebumps. “Yes i look perfect” yes you do. I can play this on guitar. SO FUCKING GOOD ISTG. so tense. I’d give in to her immediately. She’s so intoxicating i swear to god. This song captures regina SO WELL. there’s so many astonishing little vocal moments. Taylor louderman is literally one of my favourite vocalists of all time she’s so fucking good to listen to. The amount of emotion in her voice is incredible. “IT’S FINE FOR YOU IT’S FINE TO FLIRT. AND GOD YOU’RE HOT WHY DO YOU EVEN WEAR A SHIRT.” actually fucking insane i love her.

‘Revenge Party’: this song is so fun and actually batshit crazy i love it. It really shows how creative Janis and Damian are. This for me is where Cady turns for the worst. I hate the whole theme where they fuck with regina’s weight to take her down. It’s genuinely disgusting and thats one of my only problems with mean girls. Like ik they’re all mean girls but still. Gretchens whole meltdown is so fucking funny. I love gretchen so much. The final chorus is so fun.

‘Fearless’: gretchen not being able to function without having a “boss” is iconic but also someone get her a therapist. This song is so fun. Like all of them singing about not being scared of regina and then regina coming in and changing the song to the chords of SGH and then basically warning them that she will get them back. Again, CHILLS.

‘Stop’: MY FAV ATM. SO FUN. SO MAD THEY CUT IT FROM THE MOVIE. JAQUEL WOULD’VE SERVED. So catchy and addicting i love it so much. The “stop” before giving examples hits every time. “MY GOD GIRL, HE’S JUST A GUY!” SO TRUE!!! Janis calling out Damian about Phillip is so funny. Damian going insane over phillip is so funny. “For four whole weeks i trolled and dissed her. THEN I FOUND OUT SHE WAS HIS SISTER.” CRYING ITS SO FUNNY. Then all the girls saying their mistakes. It just gets gradually more sad. “Good work ladies lets take a break” A 5-6-7-8 ! “ TAP BREAK. ICONIC. Him calling her out by saying “stop. Being glued to your phone, counting followers and likes and IGNORING YOUR FRIENDS.” and then the. “She’s leaving! JUST LIKE MY DAD!” IS SO FUNNY.

‘What’s Wrong With Me? (Reprise)’: again with the “boss” :( also having mrs george in the reprise is so funny and it makes so much sense. Bless they’re both trying so hard. “You’ll be worshipped for years.. Then she’ll turn three and everything’s wrong with me” REGINA WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR MOTHER 😭😭

‘Whose House Is This?’: SO addicting and fun. “WHOSE HOUSE IS THIS? ITS MY HOUSE NOW.” im so thankful kevin kind of got a song. He’s so funny. “WHOSE HOUSE IS THIS?” “IT WAS ALWAYS MY HOUSE😭” SO FUNNY.

‘More Is Better’: am i the only one who thinks aaron kinda over-reacted here when he called cady a clone of regina… likeeeeee it’s not that deep bro. Also when it alludes to ‘i see stars’ is so cute. She’s JUST a girl. And she’s not wrong. Regina wouldn’t let that girl talk to him in a normal conversation. What else was she supposed to do? Aaron does have some points tho about how she’s changing herself to it in. but he shouldn’t be scrutinising her for it.. Like bro just reassure her that you like how she normally is… cutesy song tho

‘Someone Gets Hurt (Reprise)’: this entire sequence is genuinely insane and so fucking good and i am obsessed with barrett so much like she’s so talented. And Auli'i ate it up in the movie too.

‘World Burn’: GOOSEBUMPS. The start of this scene is so sad in the movie… TAYLOR LOUDERMAN ATE THIS SONG UP. not a fan of the use of the d slur tho. V happy they changed it for the movie. The intensity of this song makes me feel like im entering my villain era. “But you didnt finish my oooooofoffffff. MY NAME IS REGINA GEORGE.” CHILLS BRO CHILLS. “AND YOU CAN QUOTE THIS. WOAHOHOHOOOOOHHHOHHHH.” “MEAN. MEAN. MEEEEEEEEEEAN.” I LOVE HER BRO YOU DONT UNDERSTAND. “SOO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAN. I WANNA WATCH THE WORLD BURN.” I C O N I C.

‘I’d Rather Be Me’: i can play this song on piano too. It’s so good. I love it so much. Probably my fav when i first watched the musical. My fav thing is the chanting of “janis janis janis janis” and it is so satisfying. Im sad they cut it from the movie. Janis’ redemption arc is so fucking good. Love a queen who will do anything to be authentically themself. “everyBODY has opinions but tht doesnt make them true.” i prefer the ‘every asshole’ from the movie but the everyBODY still hits.

‘Do This Thing’: “YO YO YO MATHLETES STATE CHAMPIONSHIPS, WHAT! FIRST FEMALE EVER ON THE TEAM, WHAT! A BOXED LUNCH WILL BE PROVIDED, WHAT!” SO FUCKING FUNNY BROOOOO. “I’m a lean, mean, math machine” okay cady. Whatever floats ur boat queen. That line kinda hits. The part where they’re solving equations hits so hard. Kevin is so funny. “YOU LIKE THAT MARYMOUNT?!?!” cady ate it up towards the end. This song is so good.

‘I See Stars’: this song is so cvnty i love it. It makes me lightheaded when i karaoke it though so god bless erika henningsen for doing it 8 times a week. This song is so cutesy i love it. The perfect ending. Cady’s redemption was so well written bro. And i love this song. Not my favourite but it’s still on my playlists.

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #gretchen wieners #damian hubbard #mean girls broadway #cady heron #regina george #janis sarkisian #karen smith #aaron samuels #kevin gnapoor #erika henningsen #taylor louderman #kate rockwell #ashley park #grey henson #barrett wilbert weed #kyle selig #cheech manohar

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thxnks4themrms · 9 months

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I just realized I never properly made an intro for myself so under the cut is where you can find it :)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hi! Since I can't come up with a nickname for myself right now you can kinda just call me Vampy because I can't really think of anything else rn. Anyways, to make things easier I'll just write most of the basic stuff in bullet points :)

I’m Cambodian (Asian)

I use she/her and they/them pronouns

My favorite colors are pink and black

I’m an INFJ

I’m a Sagittarius

I love music - metal and rock to be specific

I like reading

I love horror movies

I enjoy things like taxidermy and bones

I’m bi and polyamorous

I’m Buddhist

I’m 13 which makes me a silly minor 😋😋

I literally have the best lovers ever <33

I love you Mikey Way

Bands / Artist I listen To The Most <3

My Chemical Romance - and their side projects

Fall Out Boy

Paramore

Pre-split Panic! At The Disco

Arctic Monkeys

The Last Shadow Puppets

Mitski

Lana Del Rey

Melanie Martinez

Korn

Slipknot

Limp Bizkit

Blink - 182

Dazey And The Scouts

Weezer

Pierce The Veil

Radiohead

The Smashing Pumpkins

The Smiths

The Cure

Këkht Aräkh

The Neighborhood

TV Girl

Waterparks

Mötley Crüe

Queen

Nirvana

The Offsprings

6arelyhuman

Okay so now that I’ve said a little about myself I plan on doing more stuff to this blog but that’ll be coming in 2024 :p but other than that here’s my dni list and when more stuff comes it’ll be here :D

Thin Ice <\3 (PLEASE DONT BE MAD IM SORRY)

Swifties

Harry Styles fans

Billie Eilish fans

Wet leg fans

DNI <\3

Homophobes

Racist

Transphobes

Ppl who fetishize homosexuality

Ppl who fetishize Asians

Rcta

Rude ppl in general

Ppl who force their religion on others

Ppl who have stuff to say about politics (this is mainly a music blog :’) plz don’t bring heavy/sensitive topics into this)

Animal haters

MANIA AND DANGER DAYS HATERS

2019 GERARD HATERS

LANA AFTER HER CHANGES HATERS

RAY TORO HATERS

People who listen / support nsbm

WAYCEST/PROSHIPPERS GET THE FUCK OUT YOU ARE NOT WELCOMED

People of any age can’t interact with me I don’t mind at all :))

WARNINGS

This blog will contain things that some people may find disturbing or uncomfortable. Things under this could include:

Blood/gore

Images of cemeteries/graveyards

Eerie/dark images in general

I do post a lot of shit sometimes that mention things about sex, substances, and a lot of other things I DONT recommend / encourage minors use - when I say stuff that mentions stuff like that im joking pls don’t take it seriously 😭😭😭

If you don’t like these things please don’t get upset! I’ll try my best to add tw for the things listed above. If you spot anything on my blog that you think might need a tw then feel free to dm me or put it in my inbox :)

Just so you know

This blog isn’t my main blog this is actually my side blog - my main is @tousyposay so don’t be kinda weirded out by that :p

My additional side blogs include:

@blxxdbxgs - a place where i simp over nurse Gerard

@urmyfavexplosion - my blog where i choose one album and post that for an entire month or some shit like that

MY SOCIALLLLSSSS

TikTok - edgelordbolos

Insta - bolosisagirlkisser

Discord - vxmpywllnvrhrtu

Man I can’t think of any other of my blogs ☠️☠️☠️ I’ll add them when I remember

Sorry if I upset any of you guys I really hope I didn’t mean to :(

Anyways that’s all I have to say for rn but thanks so much! I’ll be adding more to this as the days go on but for now thanks :)

Have a good day/night I love you guys so much! <3

-Vampy

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winterwhisperz-blog · 11 months

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ALR

I’ve already exhausted the ears of anyone who listens to me with rambles of Touchstarved—and I fear if I bring it up again to them I’ll be taken to the gallows

So I’m taking my ranting to the actual fandom and in hopes I’ll be quiet after I actually type out my thoughts <33

Buckle up I’ve got a lot to say

First tho: these rambles do have some spoilers for The Arcana and Last Legacy and of course— the demo for Touchstarved so bE WARNED

Ahem ahem

Ramble number 1 🤺

First off- IM JUST SO GENERALLY HYPED FOR THE FULL STORY

Like I love romance and all— BUT THE ACTUAL PLOT??

It’s just so intriguing to me

I’m so excited to see what the full on plot is going to be—

Like take The Arcana and Last Legacy for example

Us, as MC, are a magician’s apprentice with years of lost memories, tasked with the responsibility of solving the dead count’s death. Doing so in the timeframe of a masquerade that the Devil arcana crashes, presenting his idea of merging realms—with him as ruler.

Then in Last Legacy

We’re a human from earth that gets transported to a recovering magical world that was only a game back home. Come to find out an old evil is slowly resurfacing—

LIKE BOTH ARE SO COOL

So what is the full story of Touchstarved gonna be? ?

I’m assuming it’s a longer game than the previously mentioned, so I just- GAHHHHH

I can’t wait

I also wonder how much of a center piece Touchstarved MC is gonna be

Like what is gonna be our role? Why are we important to the overall plot of the entire game?

We already know why we’re important to our own story—duh. UHH lemme articulate this-

Like MC’s story is clear in the demo, we’re cursed with hands that corrupts whoever we touch—and we’ve come to the dangerous city of Eridia to find a cure. But I can’t WAIT to find out how that ties in with everything else.

Like how does our curse connect us to the LIs? To Eridia? To everything?

How much of a role does MC really play?

Like in Arcana, we aren’t just the one given the job of solving a murder, but we’re also the one with powers that can rival the Devil’s. We’re the Fool Tarot card—the start of the journey.

And in Last Legacy we’re not just the human from earth brought into an unfamiliar world, but also the human that wields a relic that once belonged to the LI’s ‘dead’ friend/captain. (A relic that is later vital in saving the world)

So I’m just— I’m so excited to see why Touchstarved MC is connected to everything. What decisions we’ll be able to make, and why those decisions will lead to either a happy or horrific ending.

I already love these writers—and I love the characters, and I already love the glimpses we have of the start of the plot.

Like the vibe and plot of the story is what really got me INTO touchstarved. (That and the characters are uhhh rlly pretty 👉👈 AND THE ANIMATED INTRO WAS IMMACULATE)

I’m just so hyped to see what the story is—and how the routes are going to end. Will it truly be happy? Will we actually end it by saving whatever evil is corrupting the world? Or will it be a bittersweet end, where it’s only happy because MC and whatever LI they picked—survived and get to be together?

Like we’ll probably solve things- but I just wonder how bittersweet and still tragic the writers will make it—like what if to gain one character’s salvation, we have to doom another? I think I read somewhere where the Devs said our choice of LI will result in consequences for another— AND I THINK THATS JUST SO

Muah muah

My heart will utterly break

Anyway—I’m just really excited for Touchstarved plot—can’t wait, mentally pained that it’s going to be like waiting for my sailor husband to return from sea. but I have faith it’ll be worth it- especially with how much love has already been put into it.

ALR

NOW UNTO RAMBLE 2

Ramble 2 😙

SO SO SO, now unto the romance hype

I’m vry excited for what the romance is gonna be like. Like, I’ve played a few of these games before. Mainly Arcana, Last Legacy, Mystic Messenger, etc.

And usually the romance starts pretty quick, (mainly due to these games being a bit shorter.)

But I wonder how fast or slow the romances are going to be in Touchstarved. Like, Mc is already pretty quickly attracted to the main cast(valid) but I wonder if some routes are going to be quicker than others?

And what are the CONFESSIONS going to be like?

I wonder if some routes will be slower or quicker than others?

Like my personal guesses for the quickest to slowest romance kinda goes like this: Leander, Ais, Kuras, Mhin, Vere

Okie Okie lemme explain my reasonings (I just like to ramble)

Leander feels like the type of character (if he’s not actually just using Mc) that clings, then obsesses over people he likes. And I can picture his romance starting pretty quick— I think the slower bit will be tied to actually getting him to be vulnerable—

Ais is already canon to get attached. So I can see his romance being a bit quicker.

It’s not like I think Kuras’ romance will be quick, but I do think it’ll be possibly quicker than Mhin’s. (Mainly for the scene where he keeps a hold on you when you trip. Especially if you pick ‘Can you step out?’ At the start.)

I am very curious how he’s gonna be in love though- it’s oddly hard for me to picture

Now Mhin—i can picture theirs being slower because they don’t just not want YOU to get hurt, but THEY don’t want to get hurt either.

And now Vere—I can see the physical parts of the romance being able to happen pretty quickly—but for Vere to actually like—develop sincere feelings? That’ll definitely take longer.

I can’t wait for it to happen tho

I also can’t wait for ✨feelings✨ to make drama. Like, what will the Senobium do when/if they find out Vere has like—genuinely fallen for someone 🧍🏻‍♀️ will they use us as leverage?

Will Kuras’ feelings for us make salvation harder to get?

IDKDBDBDNDND I JUST LIKE DRAMA

Alr Alr Alr- I’ll stop there.

HOPEFULLY, this will help me be quiet— because bro i’ve been thinking of Touchstarved nonstop for ages now 😭 my friends can’t take it anymore

Anyway, if you read all that, thank u <3 I hope you enjoyed my nonsensical ramblings.

I hope you have a vry good day, wear ur favorite shirt, smell a rose, and see a butterfly !!

#touchstarved #touchstarved demo #touchstarved game #ramblings #the arcana game #last legacy

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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 months

Text

New World Order: Part Four

Pairing: Zombie!Steve Rogers x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: angst, minor fluff at the end

Summary: Operation: Cure isn't going as well as you thought it would, but you're not going to give up until you have the humans on your side. You're getting Steve back whether you have help or not.

New World Order Masterlist

Squares Filled: “not bad for the end of the world” (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Operation: Cure isn’t going as well as you hoped. Getting into a human camp is proving to be much harder than you thought it was going to be. They take protection very seriously and built walls only you can climb over. If you were to do that, they’d know you’re a vampire and shoot at you until you died. The main entrances are blocked by guards who have scanners that can detect the vampire and zombie virus.

One scan of your eye, and they’d know your bloody secret.

If you’re going to get in, you have to find a weak spot and sneak in. Every camp has one or two, and every camp has those rebellious groups who will sneak out to either raid empty stores or explore the dead world on their own. It’s not safe for humans to be out by themselves but that was then. This is now.

After days of scouring the outside of a camp, you find a spot that is most likely going to be your only access point. The break in the barbed wires goes straight into tunnels that lead right into the heart of the camp. To get a feel of what you might be walking into, you and Steve are in a skyscraper next door that overlooks the entire camp. With your enhanced vision, you’re able to see everything and everyone go about their lives.

There is one person you’re watching in particular because she is going to be the only one who might be able to help you… if she hasn’t already forgotten you.

You sigh and lean against the broken window you’re looking out of. Is this a bad idea? Should you just give up on this hope of a cure? No, Steve has come so far, he’s getting a lot better. He still has trouble talking but he doesn’t stutter anymore. He just has a hard time saying certain words. The other zombies have made progress just by watching you and Steve. The cure is out there and it’s up to the humans if they want to believe in one or not.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks.

“Just thinking. I hope this works.”

“Me too.”

“Not bad for the end of the world,” you comment and observe the broken world. “My sister is in there. She made it to a safe camp. It’s been years since I’ve seen her. I hope she remembers me.”

“Family will always stick together,” Steve stutters.

“Yeah,” you whisper and look away from the camp. “Well, if we’re going to sneak inside, we have to do something about your look. You’re doing a lot better but you still look dead. Luckily, I have makeup for you.”

“No.”

“Yes,” you smile. “I was saving it for a date but being a vampire kind of ruins the mood. Now, it’s for you.”

You jump away from the window and pull Steve closer to you. It’s dark outside still, but your enhanced vision makes it easier to see what you’re doing to him. You’ve collected different kinds of makeup over the years so you have a shade that would match Steve if he had blood circulating through his veins. You put blush on his cheeks and some contour to make it seem like he is alive.

“I’d say I did a pretty good job.” You grab a shattered piece of reflective glass and hold it up to him. “What do you think?”

“It’s good, I think,” he smiles crookedly.

“Great. I found the opening. I know where my sister is. We should go now before it’s sunset. It’ll be easier to blend in.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You and Steve make your way to the ground level and walk over to the space where the barbed wire is broken. You peel back the wire to make the opening bigger for you two to sneak through. Steve goes first and you follow shortly after, hissing in pain when one of the spikes cuts your arm.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just got cut.” You look at your arm and see the wound closing instantly. “I’m okay. Come on.” You take the lead and head down the musty tunnel until you get to the other end. People pass by it without a care in the world but you’re going to try and blend in a smooch as possible. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone. Try to look alive.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You move the wooden board out of the way and quickly get out, helping Steve do the same. People pass by without a second glance so this kind of behavior might be normal here. You put the hood over your head and stick your hands in your pockets as you try and find your sister. You two had such a great relationship that you’re somewhat confident she will believe you if you tell her about Steve.

You keep Steve close as you look for your sister and find her near one of the military camps inside. Each human camp has a military base that is the front line if something were to happen. They send out their soldiers for food, medicine, and anything they might need on the outside. They raid neighborhoods and take down anyone who shows slight signs of being infected.

“Amanda,” you hiss quietly. She looks up at hearing her name but doesn't see you yet. “Over here.”

She looks over at you and gasps loudly. She apologizes to the men around her and scurries over to you.

“Oh, my God! Y/N! Where the hell have you been? I thought you died!” She pulls you in for a hug but freezes when she feels you against her. Vampires are naturally cold to the touch and she can feel how cold you are through your clothes. “Did you… die?”

“Amanda, I need your help.”

“Are you…?”

“Please, Mandy. Can we talk in private?”

Amanda looks at Steve in suspicion and then at you with the same look. She nods and takes you off to the side away from the military men.

“Where have you been this whole time?”

You have to trust her. This is where you tell her everything that happened to you from the moment you got killed to meeting Steve after all this time to working with him for months. She doesn’t say anything and listens to your every word. If she doesn’t believe you or starts shooting, you’ll run from here and never come back. This is your only shot. No other human is going to take the time to listen to you.

“You died?” she whispers.

“Yeah, I did. I promise I am not going to hurt anyone here. Steve won’t hurt anyone either. He’s curing himself. All of them are. Mandy, there is a whole community of zombies out there who are curing themselves because of Steve and I. We can cure them if only we give them a chance to. You have to believe me.”

“I do,” she nods. “Wow, I never knew something like this was possible.”

“Me either. Is there anyone you can talk to here who can help? This will only work if we get everyone on board.”

“My boyfriend is the military leader. Let me talk to him.”

Mandy leaves you two to go talk to her boyfriend but you and Steve follow her so he can get a chance to see him. He’s busy talking with his fellow soldiers about an attack they think is coming. They’ve been noticing the zombies banding together so they assume the worst when really, you’ve been helping them be in touch with their inner humanity.

“Issac? Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

“I told you to stay inside, Amanda.”

“I know but I really have to talk to you.”

He sighs and excuses himself so he can give her his full attention. He notices you behind her and immediately glares. He knows everyone in this camp and he has not seen you around before today.

“Who is she?”

“That’s Y/N, my sister. I told you about her.”

“You said she was dead.”

“I thought she was.”

“How did you get in here? I know everyone who passes through my front door.”

“Listen, we think the zombies are curing themselves.”

“Curing themselves? No, they are not curing themselves. They take what they want and destroy lives. They killed your parents, they killed my sister, and they will kill us if we’re not careful.”

“Issac, they are curing themselves. You just have to trust me on this. This virus, this disease is something we’re not familiar with. I think we give them a chance, they can turn back to humans.”

“No offense to you, Y/N, but I don’t have to believe shit. Now, I don’t know how you got in here but get the hell out of my camp.”

Issac steps around you to leave when he almost crashes into Steve. Steve backs up and smooths down his shirt nervously to make himself more presentable. Issac narrows his eyes in suspicion and looks him up and down.

“Who are you?”

“That’s Steve, my boyfriend,” you state.

He takes a step back and crosses his arms.

“I didn’t ask you. I asked him. Who are you?” Steve becomes super nervous and stutters pretty badly but can’t actually say a word. “You’re a zombie?”

You step closer to him and Issac to prevent something bad from happening.

“I need you to listen to me. I triggered something in him that triggered something in all of them.” Issac whips out his gun, shoves you to the side, shoves his gun in Steve’s face, and pins him to the wall. “No!”

“Now he’s triggered something in me.”

“We want to help,” Steve stuttered.

“They don’t want to attack. They want to help,” Amanda says.

“We’re getting better,” Steve pleads.

“No, things don’t get better. Things get worse. People get bit, they get infected, then I shoot them in the head. That’s what happened to my sister, and that’s what gonna happen to him,” Issac glares.

Issac raises his gun to Steve’s head but you grab Issac’s wrist tightly. Veins appear underneath your eyes and your fangs slide out from your gums.

“I’m sorry but I can’t let you do that.” You squeeze his wrist enough to make him drop the gun in pain. You look at Steve who has wide eyes. “Go. Get back to where we came in. I’m right behind you.”

Steve knows you have super speed and can catch up to him easily so he immediately runs back to the tunnels. Once you know he is a safe distance from Issac, you let go of his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda frowns.

“Don’t be. I tried. I’ll see you later.” You use your super speed to head back to Steve who just got to the tunnels. “Man, that could have gone a lot better.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve sighs.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Humans are scared and when they’re scared, they lash out. We’ll have to try again.” Suddenly, the alarms start blaring and lights light up the entire tunnel. Shit, they’re coming for you. “Run!”

You take Steve’s hand and run as fast as he can to the other end of the tunnel. You don’t care that the barbed wire cuts you when you pass through it, but you make sure Steve doesn’t get cut. Now that you’re out, you can go anywhere and hide but once the humans have their mind set on something, they’ll finish it until the end.

Issac and his soldiers find the entry point that leads into the outside world and comes in drones. The other zombies are waiting for your return but see Issac and his army come rushing behind you. They start shooting but you push Steve out of the way so he doesn’t get hit. The other zombies don’t want to turn and run since you taught them to fight for themselves. Instead of fleeing, you turn to the humans with your vampire face out.

You don’t want to hurt any of them but you do need to teach them a lesson. Issac raises his gun and shoots at you but you use your speed to get away from the bullet. Instead of hitting you like it should have, the bullet goes into Steve’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Steve gasps and falls to the ground.

“Steve!” You rush over to your boyfriend and kneel on the ground to make sure he is alright. The first thing you smell is blood, and you know it’s not yours since you didn't get shot. “Wait! He’s bleeding! You shot him and he’s bleeding!” Issac and his armies stop and stare at you and Steve. “Zombies don’t bleed. I told you they’re curing themselves!”

“I’m bleeding.”

You look in Steve’s eyes and see life. They are a much brighter blue than before and so full of life that it makes you cry.

“He’s bleeding. He’s not dead anymore,” you cry and look at Issac. “We can help them--all of them.”

The zombies have a cure waiting for them at the end of the road while you’ll still be stuck like this. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be cured but you’ll help them if you can; you’ll do anything. It all starts with Steve.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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pocket-luv101 · 2 months

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Masquerade Kiss // CynoNari

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Cyno attends a masquerade ball in Fontaine as a diplomat for Sumeru. He wishes that Tighnari was with him. (CynoNari)

Tighnari found Cyno enthralling no matter if he wore his Matra uniform or Akademiya robes. This was the first time that he saw him in clothes from outside of Sumeru. Cyno wore a Fontainian style overcoat and jackal mask. He could easily picture Cyno on the cover of a musketeer novel. The costume was a gift and Cyno asked Tighnari to help him adjust the coat to fit him before he wore it to the masquerade ball.

“Keep an eye on Collei while you’re in Fontaine. I know you’ll keep her safe from hilichurls but that’s not the only thing you should watch out for. While this is a masquerade ball, it’s foremost a diplomatic meeting. That’s a lot of pressure for a girl like Collei. If she gets nervous, take her outside for fresh air. For once, I won’t complain if you skip the event to play Genius Invokation with her.” Tighnari chuckled but it settled heavily between them. Cyno could see that Tighnari was more apprehensive about the trip,

The Hydro Archon invited important delegates from each nation to a masquerade ball. The event was to help strengthen the bond between the seven nations after Inazuma opened their borders. Cyno, as the General Mahamatra, was chosen to represent Sumeru. When he told him that he would leave Sumeru for a week, Tighnari suggested that Collei should join him. A journey outside of Sumeru would be a good opportunity for Collei.

Before she met Amber, Collei wandered through the nations to look for a cure. She saw a lot of the world but the scenery was overshadowed by distrust and fear. Tighnari hoped that she could now see it in a new light. As her teacher, he wanted her to pursue her studies. A part of him couldn’t help but worry. After the time they spent together, he saw her as a daughter more than a student.

“If only Lady Furina allowed me to bring two guests. You could join us.” Cyno had to admit that he was apprehensive of the trip and he would feel more confident with Tighnari. He participated in ceremonies in Sumeru and rites with the Temple of Silence so he wasn’t worried about the ball. “Collei looks up to you and she’s more comfortable talking with you. I don’t know what we’ll talk about on the boat ride to Fontaine. It’ll probably be awkward silence.”

“Of the two of us, I think you’re her favourite Papa. She always asks when you’ll be able to join us for dinner again and play Genius Invokation with her. I don’t know how you two can spend hours on that game.” Despite the complaint, Tighnari smiled as he pictured the rare nights Cyno spent at Granharva Ville. Both Cyno and Collei had complicated pasts and Tighnari was happy they could be a family together. “You already escorted Collei on a trip. The second trip should be easier.”

Cyno’s doubtful expression didn’t change with his reassurance. The sealing ritual saved her but he knew that it was a painful experience. He understood her situation all too well and he didn’t want to make her relive the memories. When he first brought her to Tighnari, he hesitated to visit them. Tighnari later encouraged him to spend more time with Collei and teach her how to read through their shared interest in light novels and trading cards.

“I wish I was better with people the way you are.” Cyno sighed.

“You should be more confident in yourself.” Tighnari took his hand and tenderly squeezed his fingers. He had seen how close Cyno and Collei were but their experiences made it difficult for them to express it at times. He thought of what else he could say to encourage him. “Collei liked your pun with the cat. I can look over your little book of jokes to find more that will make her laugh.”

“I thought of a new joke while you were helping me with my costume.” Cyno placed his hand over his heart and asked: “Are you certain that your vision is dendro? You can be a hydro user because you electrocharge my heart.”

“That’s more of a lame pickup line than a joke.” He didn’t laugh but the corner of his lips tipped into a reluctant smile. His smile was beautiful and that sight was enough for Cyno. “I’m surprised that you didn’t say the more obvious pun. Your vision must be pyro because you set my heart on fire.”

“You’re already perfect for me. With your dendro vision, you make my heart quicken.” He playfully twirled a green strand of hair around his finger. Between his touch and joke, Tighnari felt heat rise up face. He couldn’t admit how much he enjoyed Cyno’s jokes despite how dry they were. To hide his blush, Tighnari took Cyno’s mask and slipped it on.

“I hope you don’t tell those jokes to anyone in Fontaine. I don’t know what kind of humour the region has but we shouldn’t risk an international dilemma. This masquerade ball is to bring the seven nations together, after all.” He stepped back and looked over the costume that Fontaine sent Cyno for the event. He was handsome and would no doubt be popular at the party. Other guests would ask him to dance and he would have to due to politics and politeness.

He trusted Cyno and their relationship so he knew that he would never cheat on him. However, he didn’t like the thought of him dancing with someone else. Tighnari bit his lip and looked down. Jealousy was a childish emotion but Cyno brought out a different side to him. “I heard that people in Fontaine are hopeless romantics. They also enjoy dramatic displays.”

Cyno placed his finger beneath his chin and gently lifted his gaze back to him. The mask hid his face and he wished he could see his green eyes. He leaned down and kissed him through the mask. Tighnari could feel the warmth of his lips through the thin fabric. Cyno wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer. With their bodies pressed together, he imagined them dancing in a ballroom.

“It’s a shame that you can’t join us— for more than just Collei’s sake. I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.” Cyno rarely allowed himself to voice his wish. Growing up in the Akademiya, he learned to restrain his selfish whims because scholars would dismiss him. Tighnari was different. He had a genuine heart and that warmth drew Cyno to him. He could be himself with him. “Furina sent the guests a book to teach us the waltz. Will you help me practise?”

He placed Cyno’s hands on his waist before he lightly laid his own fingers on his shoulders. “Neither of us are experts in dance so this will probably be like the blind leading the blind. We don’t have the Akasha to help us anymore. We’ll have to practise for hours.”

“I don’t mind. That gives me an excuse to stay longer. Nahida gave me the week off to prepare for the trip to Fontaine. I can sleep here tonight.” Cyno suggested and Tighnari nodded readily. Their work kept them apart so he wanted to savour the rare opportunity they had now. A part of Cyno also wanted to spend more time with Tighnari because he knew he would miss him in Fontaine.

Tighnari must’ve had the same thought because he moved closer to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. “You were given the dance lessons so you should lead this dance. We just need music—”

“Tighnari!” Collei’s voice broke through the moment. They were alone in his hut but they could still hear her outside. He smiled regretfully and dropped his arms from his shoulders. Tighnari walked to his window and looked towards Collei’s tent below his. She waved back to him. “I tried on my costume and I need it fitted now. Are you finished helping Cyno?”

When he would’ve replied, Cyno wrapped his arm around Tighnari’s waist and briefly distracted him. Cyno leaned forward and his strong chest pressed against his back. He grinned down at Collei. “Your costume looks cute, Collei. When you tried it on, did you hear the spool ask the needle ‘How are you doing?’ His answer was ‘sew sew’.”

He groaned at his pun while Collei retreated into her tent to escape any further puns. Tighnari turned in Cyno’s arms so they were facing each other. “Knowing you, you thought of that pun a while ago and were waiting for an opportunity to tell it.”

“You know me well. I love you sew much.” Despite the forced pun, the love in Cyno’s voice softened Tighnari and made his heart quickened. He wanted to linger in the moment but Collei was waiting for him. Tighnari wondered if Cyno could read his thoughts when he added: “You should go help Collei. I’ll get dinner started.”

He nodded and he let go of him. Tighnari walked the short distance to Collei’s resting on a tree branch. She heard his footsteps as he approached and opened the door for him. Collei wore a lavender dress that matched the costume given to Cyno. She nervously tugged at the feather on her headpiece. “Do I look silly? I’m not accustomed to this style.”

“You look pretty.” He patted her head and reassured her as a father would. “You don’t have to worry about your appearance or the judgement of others, Collei. This trip is for you to have fun and expand your knowledge of cultures outside Sumeru.”

“Fontaine sent five dresses but they’re too elaborate for me. They’re all from Chioriya Boutique.” Collei nodded at the giftboxes on her desk. “Furina’s letter said they’re gifts and I can keep the dresses. I can’t imagine wearing them though. Should I send them back?”

“It’ll be a shame to throw away such fine fabric. Perhaps, you can keep one for a special occasion and give the others to Dehya or Nilou. You’re shorter than them but they can have the dresses adjusted to fit them.” Tighnari suggested. He walked to the gift box and studied the dresses. “So, this is the fashion in Fontaine. How interesting.”

“If you ever visit Sumeru, you should see Pardis Dhyai first. I’ve spent a lot of time in their garden. Good thymes and memories. I will vouch for its beauty.” Cyno’s joke was followed by a chorus of laughter from Neuvillette. He never expected his puns to be so popular in Fontaine and it was a pleasant surprise.

Cyno heard of Fontaine’s love for theatrics and how even their trials could become entertainment. The masquerade ball was far more extravagant than he imagined. A thousand candles illuminated the room and reflected against the gold drapes lining the wall. Flowers lined the tables and he couldn’t find a single space left empty. The guests’ sapphire, jade and ruby costumes could almost be mistaken for decorative jewels at a distance.

While the fashion of Fontaine was different, the festive atmosphere reminded him of life in Sumeru City. He couldn’t bring himself to fully relax and enjoy the party. Cyno missed Tighnari and he wished that he could dance with him. He spent a majority of the ball speaking with the Ludex. “I’ve interrogated many criminals as the General Mahamatra. The hardest one to get information from was a mime.”

Among the loud music and the chatter of the crowd, a sudden silence in the room caught his attention. A masked figure walked through the garden gate and into the ballroom. He wore an amethyst dress and the skirt hugged his hips, giving him the image of an oceanid. The rich purple fabric contrasted his green tail. He was breathtaking and the mystery of his sudden arrival caught people’s attention further. While the room stared at him, he didn’t give them a glance. He walked to a table and simply studied the flower vase.

Gentlhome Usher had already introduced the guests and the mysterious man hadn’t been among them. The room whispered and spectated who their new guests could be. Neuvillette gestured to a guard and said, “Bring the uninvited guest to me. I must question him and assess whether he’s a threat. Please be discreet to not disturb the masquerade ball.”

“Wait,” Cyno quickly stopped him. “I know who he is. I can assure you that the man isn’t a threat to Fontaine or this party. Let me speak with him.”

Cyno didn’t wait for Neuvillette’s answer before he walked to the masked fox.

“May I have a dance?” Tighnari recognized the voice so he knew Cyno made the request even before he turned to face him. Cyno bowed to him and then held out his hand to him. He had imagined dancing with him in a ballroom a thousand times but he never thought they would be able to. When he sneaked into the ballroom, he only intended to watch over Cyno and Collei from a distance. He worried they would be attacked by Fatui or Treasure Hunters.

A part of him had to admit that he was hoping for Cyno to recognize him and ask him to dance as he did now. He didn’t want to let the moment slip away though. Tighnari placed his hands in Cyno’s. “It would be my pleasure.”

Cyno brought him to the center of the room and then they faced each other. He kissed Tighnari’s gloved hand before he brought it to his shoulder. As he would so many nights, Cyno placed his hand on his waist and pulled him against his body. They fit together perfectly and Cyno leaned down to rest his forehead on his. The song started and the music almost drowned out the whisper he gave to Tighnari.

“You’re beautiful like a fairy tale, Tighnari. Are you Cendrillion or The Little Oceanid? I’m worried that you’ll disappear at midnight if you’re the former.” Despite his disguise, Cyno recognized him. Once he heard Tighnari giggle, his suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t need to see his tail or ears to know that he was Tighnari. He was able to recognize him from his proud walk and soft voice.

“I thought I could sneak into the party without anyone noticing. It appears I’ve failed. I don’t understand why everyone finds my ears and tail fascinating.” A thousand pairs of eyes were watching them and he could feel their curious gaze. Both Cyno and Tighnari were accustomed to people watching them in the Akademiya. In each other’s arms, they didn’t have to worry about their career or people’s judgement.

With each step, Tighnari moved closer to him. He rested his cheek on his shoulder and closed his eyes. He could hear his heartbeat and he swayed in time with the sound. They rarely had the chance to dance together yet matching his slow pace came naturally to him. They relaxed into the moment and the world faded around them.

“I overheard you speak with Neuvillette. Thank you. This must be the second time you’ve stopped someone from arresting me.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He promised and squeezed his hand tenderly. With his other hand, Cyno traced a circle over Tighnari’s hip and the lilac dress. Whether he wore Sumerian silk or Fontaine lace, he was stunning to him. “Though, that would be easier if you told me about your plan first.”

“This plan was a surprise to me as well. You can thank Dehya and Candace for this costume. When I delivered the dresses to them, I told them about the masquerade ball. They gave me this dress and then pushed me into a boat to Fontaine.” Tighnari chuckled as he recalled the afternoon. “Honestly, I’m happy that they did. I wanted to dance with you. We don’t get this opportunity with the Akademiya watching us.”

They needed to keep their relationship a secret since Cyno had many enemies through his job. Cyno didn’t want to endanger Tighnari and Collei. He came to the masquerade ball as the General Mahamatra. However, in that moment, he let himself act as a masked man and his lover.

#genshin impact #cynonari #cyno x tighnari #genshin cyno #genshin tighnari #cyno and tighnari #genshin impact cyno #genshin impact tighnari

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communistkenobi · 1 year

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There’s a popular sentiment in political discourse that right wing extremist beliefs - shit like Qanon, but also often just like, antisemitism in general - are indicative of mental illness, or that these beliefs are pathological in origin. There are a lot of arguments against this, but a common one I see in progressive spaces is that this is an ableist argument to make (which is a reasonable response!). However, I don’t think this is persuasive enough on its own to convince people to stop framing it as a mental illness thing (or even why it’s ableist to begin with). I also don’t think people fully understand why it’s a factually incorrect claim, even if they know it’s a problematic framing of the issue. And so I want to attempt to give an explanation for why that framework is wrong, and why believing it will lead you to poor conclusions about political beliefs generally.

This is going to be a long post, so it’ll be going under a cut. If anything doesn’t make sense or people want shit clarified feel free to send me an ask/reply etc. This is primarily aimed at people who might know that it’s wrong to call Nazis or Qanon people mentally ill (even jokingly) but don’t understand why. This is not meant to be an exhaustive explanation, but I want to make a strong case for why it’s shitty to talk about ring wing views in this way.

I’m gonna first talk about disability and mental illness, and then talk a little bit about right wing beliefs - the goal here is to fully explain why it’s ableist, and then move into why it’s an incorrect argument more broadly. The primary sources for this discussion will be two books: one called Absent Citizens, which is a book about disability politics in Canada, and a book called The Authoritarian Personality, which is about a massive research project conducted in America after WWII with the aim of understanding the content and origin of fascistic beliefs. This isn’t going to be an academic essay or whatever, but I do want to draw on academic sources to frame this discussion. I think this is a complex topic that involves a lot of complicated shit and I want to hopefully clarify some of the dimensions of this issue.

why this argument sucks

To begin, I want to break down the argument that people who believe absurd things - like bleach as a cure for covid, for example - are mentally ill. There are a lot of hidden assumptions built into that claim that I don’t think people realize are there. I also think people react to and argue against those hidden assumptions, but they still often go unstated in discourse about the topic.

You often see this claim made against celebrities - Kanye is the most recent example, but Trump is a really common one too. And whatever actual diagnosed mental health issues they have, I’m going to set those aside for the moment, because I don’t think that popular discourse about them being mentally ill is actually about their specific, diagnosed mental illnesses. Kanye would still be antisemitic even if he did not have BPD, but the fact that he does have BPD provides people with a very handy rationalization to explain his horrific views. And if he didn’t have any diagnosed mental illnesses, I doubt that would stop people from claiming he’s mentally ill anyway (which I’ll talk about later).

So, this argument has a couple different assumptions built into it. First, it takes for granted the idea that there is a social and political orthodoxy which is normal, and to fall outside of that orthodoxy means your beliefs are pathological. Views deemed sensible and reasonable (generally centre right to centre left) are equated with mental well-being, and views that are deemed unreasonable are equated with mental illness. What this does is medicalize all political beliefs. Sufficient deviance from the societal norm is therefore a sign of mental instability.

What this also does is medicalize mental illness, which is to say it individualizes it. To make the claim that absurd or dangerous political views are a sign of mental illness is to make the argument that the origins of these views come from an individual, medical deficiency within a person. It ignores the social, economic, cultural, and historical circumstances for why someone may come to believe right wing conspiracy theories (I will explain this in more detail a bit later, so just bracket this for now).

And if you frame the problem of right wing conspiracy in this way, it informs political solutions for how to get rid of these conspiratorial views in society - if antisemitism is a mental illness, then mandated mental health tests that measure political deviancy, or the invention of new mental health diagnoses for right wing extremism, would be a viable solution, right? To take this claim seriously, it would mean inventing a new class of disability, a new type of pathologized person. And once you’ve created this category and placed people into it, what do you do with them? If their beliefs are a matter of neurological deficiency, does that mean they are incapable of being de-radicalized? Should they be put on special medication? Are they even responsible for their own beliefs if there is something wrong with their brain?

And like, this line of argumentation is bad! It’s a defeatist attitude (some people are just bad and there is nothing to be done about it), it makes political beliefs biological (some people are inherently good and others inherently bad), it ignores broader forces that may lead to someone believing these things, and it prescribes policy solutions that are eugenic in nature. If we just get rid of all the bad mentally ill people, society will be fixed. Which means we are now in a very similar political position to right wing beliefs about trans people, jewish people, people of colour, and, of course, disabled people.

The second issue is that it equates “normal” political views with mental fitness, which is often a (hidden) shorthand for moral fitness. This creates a view of society as something that is naturally good, a moral yardstick to measure everyone else by. People with absurd beliefs that shock the public are just not following the rules that will make them a good person. It leaves no room for a critique of those societal norms. Is the current political orthodoxy good? Is it a good yardstick to measure other people by? Is the current state of the world a morally and socially healthy society? What if you think it isn’t? Does that make you mentally ill too?

disability & mental health

I remember right after the 2016 American election there was a very intense focus in the media on Trump being mentally ill. He was charged with infecting the body politic with his mental instability. What this did was place him outside of history, positioning him as an alien invader on an otherwise healthy society. It did not account for the social and economic forces that led to him becoming a key political figure in American politics. It was an abdication of responsibility from mostly liberal people who did not want to confront the problems in society that existed far before Trump got into power, and indeed, allowed him to get there. If you could prove Trump was mentally ill, then that would mean the problem was just that - illness. So, to go back to an earlier point, when people point to Kanye’s bipolar disorder as a reason for his antisemitism, they are not making a medical diagnosis; they are removing his political beliefs from public discourse and placing them in the realm of mental pathology. It is a refusal to meet his beliefs as they exist, and instead insist that they exist outside of society. It also robs him of agency. Something outside of his control is making him do this; you can’t really blame him. It frames bigotry as something a person does without their knowledge or even consent. This external problem is to blame.

And finally, to synthesize these points, the idea that right wing bigotry is a symptom of of mental illness is making the argument that mental illness, and disability more broadly, are medical in nature. This is also a problem! Disability has for decades been seen by activists and academics alike as something that is not biological, or at least not completely. Since around the 70s or 80s, disability activism began pushing the social model of disability, which was in direct opposition to the biological (or medical) model of disability. The social model argues that disability is the product of an unfair and discriminatory society. Disabled people are not biologically broken; society purposefully excludes them.

I think a really instructive example to use to illustrate this is the built environment. Staircases are not naturally occurring phenomena; human societies build them, and there are certain assumptions that go into building stairs as opposed to ramps, or tiered walkways, or other configurations. The inability to climb a set of stairs does not indicate a biological deficit in a human being, the social model argues; it indicates that society is building a world that excludes disabled people from fully participating in it. Framing it this way, the solution to the problem isn’t to force everyone to use the stairs, it is to alter the environment so that it is accessible to everyone. Disability can either be exacerbated or minimized through social change. In the same way, there are a lot of social norms that exclude certain groups of people. Autistic people for example can find a lot of social norms to be confusing and difficult to navigate. It’s worth considering whether these social norms are useful to everyone, and whether it would be better to alter them the same way we might want to alter a staircase to include more people in public life. It’s not that these people are broken or incorrect, it’s that historical institutions, from social values to urban architecture, prescribe certain modes of travel, certain social relationships, that can be more or less harmful to certain groups of people. The same critiques can be made through a feminist lens, or an anti-racist one. What the social model of disability does is introduce the idea of disability as a social category, one that is not a biological destiny but a historically contingent position in society that can be improved through social change.

And more broadly, mental illness has a similar disadvantage. It’s framed as a medical issue, a problem that arises within individual people. Society isn’t the cause of social dysfunction, or depression, or personality disorders; your brain is just broken, and you need to learn how to fit into society better.

And so going back to the original claim, what you’re doing when you make that argument is A) medicalizing political beliefs, and B) accepting that an individualized medical view of mental illness is inherently correct and useful for understanding political conflict.

So that’s one reason why this framework is harmful. It also leads into the other major reason why this view is harmful - it prevents a structural analysis of right wing beliefs. If Kanye West’s antisemitism is a manifestation of his mental illness, this means that antisemitism is itself a medical condition. It comes from nowhere, or to be more charitable, it’s someone pathologically indulging in bigotry. In this framework, the source of the bigotry isn’t the problem; the person being too extreme about it is.

fascism

I’m going to talk about fascism now in a more theoretical way. I think even if you’re on board with everything I’ve said up to this point, it’s still hard to watch someone say something completely absurd and not think there is something mentally wrong with them. Like, who the fuck actually believes that giving your kids bleach or horse heart de-wormer will cure covid? How can bigots keep making claims about jewish people or trans people that are easily proven false every single time? You have to be mentally ill in some way to ignore reality that hard, right? But I want to caution people against framing this as mental illness, even if it’s difficult to find another explanation.

Fascism is a product of history. What I mean by this is that fascism is a response to large social forces, and when fascist movements are successful, they reinforce a lot of those existing social forces. Fascism often takes the form of political ambitions, such as the desire to take over a democratic government, but it goes deeper than that. In The Authoritarian Personality, Adorno (one of the authors) makes the argument that fascism is a particular response people have to the contradictions of capitalism - those contradictions being that you are supposedly this free agent able to make your own choices, yet are constantly crushed under the weight of the ruling class. Human beings are told they are free and yet are constantly alienated from other people as a result of class conflict. The book explores this claim at multiple scales, down to the level of individual families all the way up to society as a whole. We know, for example, that children in abusive households sometimes become abusive people themselves. Not always, or even often, but they sometimes do. Abuse also causes a lot of other, non-abusive social and emotional problems for children who grow up in these environments, often following them into adulthood. This is a particularly horrific environment that people respond in different ways to, and it produces a wide range of issues that people have to grapple with for the rest of their lives. In the same way, harmful societal forces illicit different responses in people, and sometimes, that response is a turn towards fascism.

Adorno describes fascism as an ideology of irrationality. A fascist is someone who embraces the contradictions of capitalism and makes contradiction a core component of their belief system. Or rather, fascism is a belief system that fully accommodates contradiction because of its irrational character. Fascism is often difficult to describe precisely because of this irrationality - in order to make sense of it you need to place it in a rational context, which runs the risk of over-intellectualizing or rationalizing it. This even came up in the methodology section of the book. The researchers couldn’t go around asking people if they were racist or antisemitic, for example, because a bunch of people would say no, even if they were explicitly racist and antisemitic people. In several of the interviews the researchers did, fascistic people would assert that they were not racist and then, in the literal next sentence, would say something horribly racist. And they found that fascistic people would repeat this pattern for many areas of their lives - deny a behaviour, even a trivial one, and then do that exact behaviour a few minutes later. This contradiction is so deeply embedded that it makes investigating what fascists actually believe difficult.

However, to try to give a broad overview, fascism is a singular fixation with power. The way power is distributed in society is along in-group/out-group lines. If you are part of the in-group (white, Christian, able-bodied, cishet, etc) you are deserving of power; if you’re not, then you must be dominated or destroyed. In order to realize this goal of white supremacist power, any belief or behaviour that will further this goal is advantageous, regardless of how truthful it is. This is part of the reason why a lot of right wing conspiracies sound so ridiculous - truth is not a quality that is valuable to them because it could interfere with the pursuit of power. In this framework, Qanon people asserting that ivermectin will cure covid are not making a factual medical claim; what they are doing is saying that the medical establishment cannot be trusted, that a deadly disease killing millions of people can be stopped with an over the counter remedy. Because if covid isn’t real, or is as mild as a seasonal flu, then the current government in power is making illegitimate demands on people to socially distance and wear masks, and therefore the only moral response is to overthrow them and install someone who will stop making those demands. You have to view all right wing conspiratorial claims not as factual but as strategic; you need to evaluate their claims based on what the proposed solution to the problem they’re presenting you with will be. If they’re claiming trans people are grooming children or assaulting people in bathrooms, then the obvious policy response is to bar trans people from any space that contains children or public bathrooms (ie, all public spaces). If Jewish people have undue influence in government, the obvious response is to remove all Jewish people from positions of power. And these are short term solutions - if these minorities are so disgusting that you need to shut them out of public life, the only real solution is to get rid of them entirely. It doesn’t matter that these accusations are demonstrably false; they are “true” to a fascist because they further their political and ideological goals. They have to be true for their power to be realized, and so by virtue of that they are effectively true to a fascist. (This is also why disproving their claims with facts don’t work; they aren’t interested in the truth of any of their claims, because truth is not something they value in their vision of society).

And they don’t even need to be dyed in the wool explicit fascists to be saying this shit! A good portion of this discussion has been about hidden assumptions in discourse. I do things without realizing the full consequences of my behaviour sometimes. Sometimes I don’t even know I’m “doing” something at all because it’s so embedded and normalized in society that it feels natural. I try to catch myself as much as I can to make sure I’m not doing something harmful, but everyone does it. Fascists are just as capable of this. And like, racism and bigotry are part of normal everyday society. The dedicated well-read fascists who know what they’re doing and the shallow incurious racists who just want to be assholes both peddle the same shit and it does the same harm; doing it unintentionally doesn’t make you mentally ill, and being mentally ill doesn’t mean you’re being racist through some kind of medical accident. These people are enacting their political beliefs through their words and behaviour, whether they know the full scope of those beliefs or not, and you should not diminish that agency by arguing that they’re misguided mentally ill people.

It’s also part of the reason why they will deny charges of bigotry. They aren’t necessarily lying to themselves, but they are attempting to exclude types of discourse that would harm their political goals. I’m not racist because racism is bad and what I want isn’t bad. I’m not racist because racism is undue bigotry against racial minorities and mine is fully justified. You can’t trust what they say, but you can trust their intentions, and their intentions are bad.

This post is extremely long already so I’ll wrap it up here. When you see people making outlandish, false, ridiculous claims about a minority group, remember that these people are not expressing mental illness. They are expressing dangerous political views and need to be shut down for political reasons. The status of their mental health is not relevant to solving the problem of bigotry. Laying the blame at the feet of mental illness is an error of both scope and origin; bigotry does not come from illness, it comes from a desire for power, and that is the thing that needs to be stopped.

#book club #erm. hope this makes sense lol #absent citizens is a great book btw highly recommend it even if you are not canadian #it goes into detail about how disability discourse is linked with neoliberalism which I didn’t get into here #but neoliberalism is a huge component of this so. worth checking out

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