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xbomboi · 1 day

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misc. bribelle thoughts

prefacing this by saying bribelle is my favorite ship. actually might be one of my favorite all time ships considering whenever i catch 11:11 i make a tweet on my priv twitter saying “11:11 bribelle and rarijack” because i’m insane.

anywho…

i think it’s a lot easier to justify saying faybelle potentially has feelings for briar in a canon context because even aside from her diary, her behavior in epic winter can most definitely be read with flirtatious undertones, especially after witnessing the dream sequence

but i’m always trying to justify things to myself in accordance to canon without feeling ooc, because i’m the type of creative who would rather write my own original thing than make alterations to a pre-existing work. that’s just me.

and briar is trickier to do so with. in the show alone, she only actually verbally responds to faybelle once and it’s a line that also adds exposition. “but it’s forbidden!” girl come on throw faybelle a bone at least…

by epic winter, i’d say briar could potentially have had surface level attraction to faybelle, but it isn’t until having that dream and probably especially post-epic winter when she’d get time to actually reflect on it that she’d start to develop palpable feelings for her.

i’ve kinda noticed something about briar: she likes attention. i guess she’s kinda like faybelle in that respect.

briar grew up with neglectful parents. fill in the blanks. why wouldn’t she want attention when she lacks it properly from the two most important people in her life?

along this line of thinking, briar especially values explicit displays of affection, particularly from a potential romantic partner.

so, regrettably, let’s look at her relationship with hopper.

i.e. briar’s behavior in the webisode “Here Comes Cupid.”

when she first confronts hopper about his unconventional advances, she’s disinterested and borderline repulsed.

but after hearing him profess his love via the recording, she’s taken aback and actually grows endeared.

until this BAFOON fumbles the bag and does some really creepy shit by leaning into her personal space and calling her hot. understandably, this miffs briar and she once again loses interest.

(side note, too many people ignore how blatantly creepy hopper is to women, ESPECIALLY briar. he needs to be held accountable, not rewarded by getting the girl.)

even then, despite not necessarily returning his affections, she’s somewhat comfortable in the status quo that he devotes his attention to her. which is exactly why i think in bunny’s diary (bunny is wrong btw she doesn’t know a damn thing so idk why the one wiki that’s not the official wiki list hopper as briars crush when the source is bunny’s word like fuck all) bunny mentions observing briar appearing disappointed when ginger asks hopper to the dance and he accepts.

to briar, it’s like she’s losing one of the few things she’s familiar with, the few constants in her life. in this case, her only plausible option who she’d have reason to believe would accept. and we all know how briar is about losing things.

briar sorta settles into this state of fondness towards hopper’s affections, despite them being unrequited. because at least he gives a damn about her.

faybelle—at least, outside of her diary and up until epic winter—might as well be any villain; faybelle just wants to cause chaos for the sake of ruining somebody’s day. and i don’t think briar likes it that way.

i’d assume around the time of faybelle’s introduction to the series, briar’s stance would be one of upset towards faybelle, believing she doesn’t take their story as seriously as she(briar) does. that her role in sleeping beauty isn’t as important to her as being evil in general.

i have half the mind to say that this could potentially be read from briar’s behavior in faybelle’s diary.

first off, that underlining wasn’t added; the underlines are in the official print. meaning briar is putting emphasis on those words specifically. sure it’s a lesson to faybelle about not being an asshole, but also it reflects on briar in a way. like it could be her saying, “you’re supposed to be my villain, but you act like i’m no different to you than anyone else.”

now, this next part is obviously a surface-level gag about faybelle making a malicious act seem so thrilling, but if we close our eyes and pretend that we’re in a different world called I.D.G.A.F. dimension, we can now analyze this in a different light.

briar’s confused by faybelle’s verbal expression of almost-affection. it doesn’t help that she’s most definitely barely awake. but i’m willing to say her confusion is partially born out of actually having heard faybelle say such a thing. it’s gotta be surprising and hard to believe in that moment, because briar has every reason to think otherwise.

in the show, like i said, faybelle just does whatever the fuck. open a sweat shop? sure why not. assist her peer’s mom in attempting to turn the entire world into her own dictatorship? count her in. make a deal with the mafia? just a regular tuesday. but god forbid she focus on being the one to make the sleeping happen in sleeping beauty.

i think that irks briar. or at least make her generally act indifferent when faybelle comes waltzing around to do god knows what; if she won’t care, why should briar, right?

then there’s epic winter. or, as i like to call it in bribelle terms, “they finally fucking interacted”

when briar explains faybelle’s inclusion of herself to crystal, she simply says it’s her thing and cites the sleeping beauty story. like “hey crystal this is my villain btw, trust.”

later when briar’s yapping about the story, some may say it’s counterproductive in relation to briar’s arc that ashlynn brings up the miserable part of it only for briar to talk fondly of it, but i know briar personally, and have been filled in as to what the truth is.

briar dropped that attitude because faybelle was there. she started talking up the story, almost as a cue to faybelle, like “hey remember how you’re like a big part of my life’s purpose???”

faybelle butts in about it. and briar doesn’t get the chance to respond, but i think she was almost expecting faybelle NOT to gaf, so her doing so threw her off just a little. maybe she expected to hear something like “who cares?” instead.

then of course when they get to the castle briar’s little act is dropped and her deep fear of the sleeping beauty destiny is once again present. and of fucking COURSE that’s when faybelle decides to CARE ABOUT THEIR STORY.

listen to me, LISTEN. briar looks at faybelle BEFORE faybelle actually says “no, there’s another room far more important to our story. isn’t there, briar?” she looks at her BEFORE she actually talks. she was looking to see if she’d react, then when faybelle does speak she looks away, then she bumps her to get her attention so briar has to fight the adhd and lock in.

and faybelle just keeps instigating which honestly kinda takes briar out of her typical sulking over her destiny mood and more of like ‘what is your game here exactly’ mindset.

there’s so much to that look briar gives her. so many emotions in there.

after this they go up and faybelle taunts some more only for briar to almost actually prick her finger yada yada. and like i said, it’s a lot easier to understand faybelle’s pov. it’s very clear she doesn’t actually wanna go through with cursing briar, teasing and all. she makes as much obvious by her reaction alone when briar gets too close.

but once briar’s fine she’s like ‘yeah, okay, back to normal,’ meanwhile briar is kinda just done because faybelle is acting a fool. but she never shoves faybelle off of her unlike she did when hopper intruded on her boundaries huh briar why is that what’s that about briar still, briar has yet to have any indication from faybelle about how she actually feels in regards to their story and her role in it. or how it pertains to their relationship with each other. rather, faybelle doesn’t take it seriously much to briar’s chagrin.

then the dream sequence happens.

to me, this is the turning point.

it’s a stupid music video for an insert song, but goddamnit it confirmed darabella and even hunter got to be there with ashlynn so i’ll die standing on business.

this is what briar’s been waiting for from faybelle. that frenemy status is something i think briar wants to figure out which one to see faybelle as, depending on how she really wants to proceed with the story. and i’d say faybelle surprises her; hell, she even shows her a side of her rarely seen.

like with hopper, an outward display of affection such as this is something briar is drawn to. faybelle’s display towards briar in the dream sequence is something briar would be endeared by, as she goes out of her way to prevent her from experiencing the very thing she’s been dreading for so long. that’s gotta fit briar’s love language.

side note, i think it’s very very interesting to note that faybelle is the one to swoop in and save briar in this case, without any other characters present to show a significance in the ending of the story. i say this because hunter gets to be in ashlynn’s sequence and the bears are in blondie’s, despite none of them being in the tower asleep. all this is to say, if briar really did have feelings for hopper or really was gonna end up with him or some guy, they’d be there, right? but nope, just faybelle. I Understand.

after that we don’t really see them interact at all again, but there’s the general disdain for faybelle’s actions as a shared sentiment amongst the others. either way, by the end she shows remorse and seemingly ends on good terms with everyone, meaning i don’t see why briar wouldn’t be left thinking about the dream, seeing her in a whole new light. honestly briar would probably be kinda intrigued by the idea of the bad girl having a soft side for her. briar and i actually spoke about this the other day.

either way, this is briar learning that despite the general ignorance faybelle portrayed, she actually does care about her.

faybelle demonstrating, proving to briar that she is capable of showing affection and actually does care for her is what i think is enough for briar to begin to start falling. (which is kinda reflected in how i approached their relationship in fable fest.)

because briar knows there might actually be something there.

or maybe it’s a kid’s cartoon and one girl mean other one nice, idk.

#guess how many mental illnesses i have #2 digit number #that’s an exaggeration #point still stands #i cry when i think about bribelle #eah #ever after high #briar beauty #faybelle thorn #bribelle #briar x faybelle #briar and faybelle #ramble #duncontent #i’m half asleep so i pray i hope i don’t wake up going “who let me post this!”

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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 days

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Scouring a Q&A archive for realmslore, as I am wont to do, and seeing people being semi-officially (officially?) directed to Lords of Darkness when they ask about Realms-specific undead lore even in the 5e era is amusing, and also validating (I love that book. I love how creating tomb guardians/mummies works in the Realms: it's so fucked up. I love the Bhaalist mummy and his relationship problems. I want my Bhaalist to get mummified.)

But anyway the concept that that lore holds in 5e Toril is darkly hilarious to me for reasons, because you'd be applying this to BG3:

Greater and Lesser vampires: Toril does in fact have rare daylight walking vampires! They're created when a succubus kills you by kissing you (ie draining your life force and consuming your soul during make out sessions/sex) and then your corpse rises again as a soulless undead horror that can walk in sunlight. Other than the daywalking a greater vampire is exactly like a normal vampire.

And I'm just... You can get your soul eaten by a fiend in game: can you imagine Astarion's reaction if - after being dumb enough to get fucked to death by Haarlep I know they don't kill you in-game, humour me - you came back as a vampire able to walk in the sun right off the bat? Either he's going to be insanely envious (why do you get everything he wants through an act of terminal stupidity), or he's going to be extremely put out that he isn't special. "There are no vampires like me" Are you sure babe? Bet?

Also as far as Toril is concerned with undeath in its own setting: undeath is evil, as are all of it's sources and all acts of inflicting it upon somebody (except for Baelnorn), but the undead are people and a bit more complicated. Not necessarily terribly nice people, who are monsters and sometimes have to do horrible things due to their nature, but they have control of their actions do damage control and decide not to be total bastards. (Most are total bastards). There are folk stories and legends of protective ancestors and helpful undead, and some undead hunters are wont to let "sleeping undead lie" if they're not bothering anyone. Interestingly I also saw something today that some undead hunting is actually done by undead, who don't appreciate other, less pragmatic and/or morally inclined undead being more evil and destructive than they need to be ("‘nuisance’ undead") and risking encouraging hatred/fear of the undead and angry mobs amongst the living: do you mind, some of us are trying to unlive in relative peace here. How is a Lich supposed to study with clerics breaking down their door, you animals?? Different source again, but D&D's token "good" vampire is a Torilian native (and by "good" I mean Chaotic Neutral and messy, and currently being warped and tormented by the Dark Powers of Ravenloft who enjoy a good chew toy). Toril does have another "good" vampire in official material, but he's been cursed to be Lawful Good and would explicitly go back to being a monster if you lifted that curse, so methinks he doth not count.

#babbling #/astarion #Jander and Jonathon are both elves oddly #Why are all the potentially non-evil vampires on Toril elves

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g-kat423 · 2 days

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If Alcina being a lesbian is so important to you why does she have an ex husband in your fic

I’m going to assume this is a genuine question without malicious intent so I will provide a real answer.

This could actually apply to 2 of my fics, but I’m guessing you’re talking about Something Sweet since it’s the one that I update more frequently.

Gonna plop this under a read more since it’s gotten long

Alright, so, the reason for her having an ex husband has been stated throughout the fic. She felt she had to be closeted and to meet certain expectations set for her both by society and by her parents. Sure, people are more accepting now, not that there isn’t still bigotry or pressure to conform, but with the fic taking place in 2022(I started it in 2022 and only a few months have passed in fic time and while I never explicitly stated the year, that’s what everything is based off of, giving Alcina a 1978 birth year and the reader 2001) that means Alcina got married in 2008. Idk if you were around during that time, but homophobia was rampant, being gay was a punchline. It’s not something you would talk about, there’s no way to know if your friends would actually stay your friends and not spread vicious rumors about you. Marriage equality in most states, not a thing. Again, bigots still exist, but it’s generally not this life ruining thing for people to find out you’re queer. Alcina would have come of age in the 90’s which would make that even worse.

That aside, I tend to explore themes of coming out later and families not being being accepting because it’s all I know. I tend to process my trauma through my writing. That and I’m sure it’s no secret that I’ve taken heavy inspiration from Carol only with a sugar baby twist. I also wanted her to have younger, biological children since I felt that would be fitting of a 44 year old divorcee rather than having adopted adult children like she does in canon. Sure, they could have been adopted or older, but there needed to be a reason for her to stay with Kurt for the amount of time that she did. I needed her connected to Karl in someway too. Heisenberg was originally supposed to have a twin brother so I went off of that and now Alcina has her annoying ex brother-in-law(who actually isn’t so bad in this universe, but Alcina won’t hear of it)

As for The Fall of the House of Dimitrescu. I’m sure no one is asking, but in that case Alcina was weak from her hereditary blood disease and didn’t have the energy to be defiant the same way she was as a child. Her father had lost his wife and he had no desire to continue caring for Alcina so he set her up with somebody who she reluctantly went along with. In that case, Alcina wasn’t even aware of her attraction to women yet, she just didn’t understand why she didn’t feel a spark with her soon to be husband. She also assumed it was normal for sex to be an unpleasant “wifely duty.” Once she finally made the connection and had an affair with a woman, turns out she liked sex quite a bit lmao.

Idk, all this aside, I know I’m not the only one who has given Alcina a husband in some context yet still fully believes shes a lesbian. I also have plenty of fics where she’s never had one. The first multichapter fic I wrote she literally left her home and privileged life behind to struggle until she made it as musician rather than marry a man. I don’t think it’s a crime to explore other possibilities. I have so many different headcanons for Alcina and all are universe dependent whether that be modern AU, the canon compliant timeline where she never marries, the canon compliant timeline where she does, and all the other in between stuff that diverges from canon. She’s one of my favorite characters of all time and I love fleshing her out.

#ask #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #anon

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knyontop · 3 days

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I already requested something similar to somebody else but whatever- Could i have some creeps (maybe include Ben, Sally, Toby and Ej) with a new preteen proxy?? And the kid is obviously always tired/sleepy and somewhat depressed. Reader is also just really shy and nervous around people (ESPECIALLY PEOPLE OLDER THAN HER BECAUSE SHE OVERTHINKS AND DOESNT WANT TO MAKE A BAD IMPRESSION). And because of all this theyre really timid dont have any friends and just observes instead? (Whenever theyre alone they talk to themselves but nobody hopefully knows that <3) Theyre really intrested in others but theyre just scared and a loser. (also likes to keep things to themselves so hardly ever opens up) They only talk when being asked a question but when reader didnt understand them clearly they dont ask the other to repeat themselves but just stand like stupid literally the definition of awkward. Very isolant, overfriendly, nervous, silent and obedient. Will listen to you because they want to do a good impression. Oh youre hungry and want food? The kid will bring some snacks if you ask. (Theyre just a lonely scared kid who is trying to do their job correctly and fit in) sorry for yapping :c

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AWH DW ITS OKAY YOU CAN SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT AND MAKE IT PARAGRAPHS!!

Creepypasta x Child!reader

Ft: Ben drowned, Jeff the killer, sally willaims, eyeless jack, ticci toby, and our amazing, beautiful, handsome, reader.

Ben:

・as soon as he meets you he knows your an easy target for shit.

・he likes to fuck with your mind a lot.

・he sometimes feels bad about it because of how vulnerable you are, he has sadistic instincts and protective instincts about you.

・The more Ben hangs around you he starts to town down his mind games.

・he is practically your shadow.

・Ben also likes to teach you how to play games!

・Hes also starting to feel bad when he says thing like “What makes you think I care about you? Your so silly.” Because he sees how upset you get he then apologizes with a “Kid I didn’t mean it you dummy.” (Dw he means dummmy lovingly)

・he likes to think of you as his side kick.

・”Y/N, dont worry ‘bout jeff he dont mean it.”

EJ:

・when he first saw you, he knew you would be a tough case.

・sometimes he likes to spook you just a little bit.

・hes very curious about you even though your like an open book, he wants to know more about you.

・he feels bad for you because your a child, but he wont ever admit it.

・Jack sometimes lets you help him with small tasks.

・he has fatherly instincts towards you.. but also has thoughts about eating you because your like a helpless little lamb and hes the wolf. He likes his victims vulnerable.

・He does not understand his feelings about you see he pushes them to the back of his mind.

・”You want to help me? But your a child..”

・he looks down of you because hes older then you. It’s immature but he can’t control it.

toby:

・he sees himself in you and he doesn’t like thinking about the past so he tries to stay away from you.

・but it also makes him protective over you like everyone else.

・so he doesn’t hang around you, but, he protects you like his life.

・when he actually has moments where he hangs around you he starts to like you.

・like your the only person besides sally who treats him like a human.

・but that doesn’t mean he wont bully you a bit!

・Its more like teasing but like sometimes he takes it to far sometimes.

・his dark humor scares you.

・very clingy when he gets to know you.

・he asks to have sleepovers with you! (He watches you sleep)

・he takes up every opportunity to go on a mission with you.

・hes like obsessed with you at this point. (Platonically)

・he sees you as “his” Defenseless little sibling!

・”H-Hey there Y-Y-Y/N! Want to- to- go on a mission with m-me?” (He will force you if you say no)

Sally:

・Sally loves you so much!

・theres someone here age, and another girl!

・theres barely any girls!! ☹️

・loves hanging out with you and having tea partys and just everything!

・shes a sweetie<33

・she understands your anxiety around people who are older.

・she has that to.

・Sally even lets you babysit Mr. Charlie! (She will be mad at you for a bit if you hurt/lose him)

・just call her and shes there!!

・”Hey N/N!! Want to babysit Mr. Charlie?”

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NERVOUS ABOUT THIS AT FIRST BUT I LOVE IT!!

#ben drowned #platonic #platonic creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby #toby x reader #eyeless jack #sally williams #sally willaims x reader #eyeless jack x reader #toby x reader creepypasta #creepypasta platonic #creepypastaaaaaa #x reader #platonic x reader

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sunnywalnut · 3 days

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I miss when autistic rep was on accident. I feel like every time a neurotypical/allistic person tries to write somebody with autism on purpose, it just comes off as "he's a total jerk, but he's REALLY GOOD at what he does" instead of "this guy's facial expression doesn't change very much, but I promise you he's absolutely happy to help. Also talk to him about birds. He fucking loves birds."

And I don't mean "he loves birds" as in "this guy wears bird shirts 24/7 and corrects you if you accidentally call a pigeon a dove." No. I mean "he loves birds" as in "he's able to name the sound of the bird just by it's song and point to it and it's just sitting on the rooftop next to you" and if you ask questions he gets this little smile to his face and answers them all and even tells you about some drama about two researchers who were unsure of they could call two birds different species since they were so similar and then gives you the answer of they can, because their beaks are different and that means their diet is different or whatever.

Not every autistic dude in media has to be "UwU save me from the world and take care of me bc I'm just a smol beannn✨"

Sometimes they're just Chad from maintenance who seems to love his job a bit more than he should, but it's all good bc everything that's fixed works even better than it was before it was broken. He's not creepy or anything. But he WILL call you over if he sees you walk past in order to show off his latest repair and talk to you about what he did. Everyone loves Chad. They're happy that he's as dedicated to his job as he is. Plus it makes the office a lot more bearable to have him around because he always seems to wear this gigantic grin and talk with his hands.

You're absolutely able to have "cute" autistic characters. I have cute autistic characters.

I have a little elf girl that counts each individual strand of her hair when she's nervous and climbs trees. She loves baking, so much so that she will make everything gluten free, kosher, dairy free, vegan, whatever you need in order to make sure you're included. As soon as she steps into a garden, she's completely covered in dirt. And yes, she's extremely friendly and doesn't understand social cues. And sure. She has her boyfriend take care of things for her, like keeping her safe from creeps when she's in public, and shutting down scammers before she can pay them, but it's not because she's dumb. It's because he elected himself into that space. And he knows full well that if she decides to scurry off to whatever wonderful thing that has caught her eye, that she'll wander back to him when she's ready. She knows how to defend herself. And he trusts her. And she does things for him as well. Which is something I don't see in autistic/allistic relationships in media at all.

Like do y'all really think our partners are just our glorified babysitters???

We're not just there to sit still and look pretty.

We're there to be your emotional rock. We tend to have high empathy. We can listen to your problems and validate your emotions. And sure, we might give you some advice that seems a bit wonky at best, but anyone can do that. Not just autistic people.

Sometimes we take over financial decisions, for one reason or another. I had a partner that would always come to me for financial advice despite living on their own and having more than enough money to do what they wanted with, but they knew that I could budget better. I'm good at math. And no, not a "math wiz" all A's kind of good. But a "I can do big number addition/subtraction and sometimes multiplication within seconds in my head" which was also really helpful in my culinary class when my teacher would put me in charge of making sure we were on target with how many servings of food we had. Not every autistic person has to be leagues above the rest academic to be autistic. My allistic brother had straight A's for YEARS. Much longer than I did. I had A's and B's.

You can come to us if you need a hug. Or to cuddle. Or to body double. Or just to hang out. Some autistic people like touch. We crave it. I can guarantee you that if we were friends and you climbed up on the couch next to me and laid your head in my lap, I would let you. No questions asked. I'd even pet your hair. And I'd ask you about your day. I can't count how many times high fives have turned to hand holding with my friends because they needed a loving talking to about how great they are. Or a back rub when they're crying. Not all of us are going to stand there, staring down at you while you're curled up on the floor and be like "STATISTICALLY SPEAKING-" yeah no. And the people who DO that likely are trying to relay information that they know that they think will help you feel better. We're odd, but we're not heartless. Let me get down on your level. Sit with you. And then I'll talk to you about how tears are actually really healthy and it's good that you're able to cry. And also I'm proud of you and let's get you some water, okay?

We can take care of you too!!

I give all my friends hair care advice bc I've spent too much time watching hair stylist videos. I tell them to make sure they lotion after every shower when they complain about dry skin or body acne. I tell them to drink water after they cry. Or wash their face. Or alternate ways they can get around invisible barriers and still get what they need done. You know how many times I've had to sit down problem solve with my loved ones for over an HOUR bc their ADHD decided not to let them brush their teeth or take a shower? I have a whole ARSENAL of advice to give you. And yeah. If you're close enough where I can head over to your place, I WILL do your dishes(bc somehow they're less gross than mine). I WILL wash your hair for you, or fold your clothes or clear the counters of trash. Not because I think you're lazy or nothing. But because I see something that needs to be done, and I do it. Because I love you, it's simple, and hey, I'm here anyways, right?

Like shit. Every night I have a sleepover with my best friend, I do the dishes that were in her sink before I even came over while she starts on dinner. Because I love her. And that's my way of paying her back for picking me up. I clear all our trash, and the scraps of tea bags that she missed in the mornings. Because I love her. And it's simple enough I can do it myself. I chop the garlic as we cook together because we're working as a team. And yeah. After it's all over. We sit on the couch like a bunch of lazy dogs and watch TV and chat and do whatever. And sometimes. We don't do anything but just enjoy each other's company. Because as adults, we don't get a lot of time to just relax.

We all have our own strengths and weaknesses. And sure. Being friends with an autistic person isn't always sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes our behaviors or our tenancies can be stressful. Like sensory meltdowns, or our bluntness(which is honestly usually just us saying exactly what is true without sugar coating it. Like if you said the sky was purple I'd be like "nah it's blue rn" and people find that blunt and rude. But to me, that's just a fact. I'm not saying you're dumb. I'm just saying it's blue right now.) or sometimes, even when we get super hyper about our interests. I would know. I'm autistic myself. And I irritate myself.

But it seems like in media, the irritation is all people can see. Even in "supportive" families that I see in shows and such, everyone's always stressed all the time.

You're telling me ONE LITTLE CHILD is tearing this entire family apart? (*COUGH COUGH Young Sheldon COUGH*) Not only is that stupid, that's just inaccurate.

If you wanna be accurate, maybe don't have every autistic person you write be a "high functioning" male in a doctor's coat who's transphobic as fuck and his excuse being he's autistic.

If you know the bitch is outwardly transphobic, don't fucking put him in the room with trans people.

And also?

Autistic people are allowed to learn the difference between sex and gender. We're ALLOWED to learn about queer identities. And we're ALLOWED to be queer ourselves without being labeled as idiots who don't know any better.

I've YET to see a show about an outwardly queer autistic girl who is able to make awesome friends and overcome her challenges WITHOUT succumbing to being an asshole on purpose.

Except for The Owl House. And Luz isn't even canonically autistic. It's just speculated.

THAT is good autistic representation.

Not whatever the fuck "The Good Doctor" is supposed to be.

My Personal List Of Good Autism Rep Recs(non canon, sadly):

-Good Omens(not explicitly canon, but multiple characters behave in a way that could be labeled as autistic. Plus Neil Geiman, the writer himself is autistic)

-The Owl House(again. Not explicitly canon. But great. The whole show is about accepting yourself as you are and is kinda along the lines of Gravity Falls. In fact, she was in a relationship with Alex Hirsh, creator of Gravity Falls. And also she's bisexual with a CANONICALLY BISEXUAL LEAD!! Also is lovely for mental health allegories too)

-Gravity Falls (the whole Pines family just REEKS autism to me. Noncannon.)

-How To Train Your Dragon(Hiccup is autistic as hell and you can't convince me otherwise. Non canon)

-Adventure Time (some of the humor is dated, but enjoyable. Also Princess Bubblegum. Need I say more?)

-We Bare Bears (slice of lifey. Sometimes childish. Sweet as hell though. Grizz feels very autistic to me, but that could also be because I enjoy how huggable and easily excitable he is. Everyone loves him. He's loud, he can absolutely be obnoxious, but he loves his bros and tries his best to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. He also does his best to fix any problems he makes. Which in my book, makes him a good guy. Some people also claim Ice Bear is autistic. But personally, I feel like he just doesn't talk much. What do you guys think?)

#actually autistic #autism #autistic #autism representation

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mezmer · 4 months

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I just realized here in the early morning hours that in a straight couple, you are indubitably getting some kind of power struggle where both the man and the woman assume, maybe even subconsciously, that they’re respectively going to be the winners. You could say This is probably why 99% of non-marriage relationships end and 50% of all marriages end in straight folk. It isn’t that most couples HaTe EaCh OtHeR, it is that they have some competition going on in their minds that there exists no rules to.

#I could go on but it is 6 in the morning #in me and hims case #I am paranoid he wants me to forget things so he can paint himself an image of being my compassionate helper #somebody who makes a sacrifice for their lover to help them #as if that isn’t the norm and I’m not completely inept or disabled anyways #in my case I am competing with him in what I believe is a fight to be more genuine somehow I feel he is a liar because I can’t possibly be #in love with somebody who does some of the things he does #all of it is evil and if I said all of this to him he would stare at me #like I have lobsters crawling out of my ears #it’s too late comma we have a child comma and we must microdose psilocybin to find our common ground and fuck on it

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taeyungie · 7 months

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😺

#i haven't addressed yoongi's situation yet because i'm honestly still not hit by it i guess. like it didnt gwt to me yet #i dont think ill ever love anyone the same as i love him you know what i mean #he has been the first reason of my self development. like he literally raised me??? i learned from him how to be the person i am today #and its like im saying goodbye to a family member. the thing is i have never griefed anyone's absence like this #its like a part of my soul will be missing until he comes back #but at the same time i know what he would want for me. to move on and to become my own reason #he would want me to be kind to myself. to focus on myself and not miss him that much.#he would want that for all of us right #but i have a very hard time processing things. do you guys remeber the festa last year? when we found out theyll be going on hiatus #the reality of it snd the fact that it will be happening hit me onky after around 3 months.#thats when i first cried because i realized what it meant. ofc i knew but it didnt occur to the emotional part of my brain at that time #and i feel like im truly gonna fall apart when THIS hits me in 3 months lol #my life has never been worse and thats honestly the time when i need the reassurance the most #when i need the people i love and find comfort in the most.#but its just me and thats technically just my problem. but since i am talking about my view on this then thats okay i guess hahah anyway #i just hope he knows there are milions of ppl who love him as much as i do. and thats like extra love like forever & beyond type of shit #i honestly dont think other people ever truly fully understand how we feel towards them. especially when you really love somebody #because they have their own opinions about themselves. they debate whether they deserve some kind of treatment or not. we all do that right #and i just know he does that too. i just reslly want him to feel completely loved and cherished and appreciated.#i want him to see himself through our eyes. to surround himself with people who see him exactly the way we do.#to fall in love with somebody who will see him like we see him #nobody deserves better life than this man. and i hope that after our reunion he will live that life to the fullest 💓 i can't wait to see it #anyway. if somebody needs to talk about it or wants to get sadness out of your system - im here 💓#please keep your heads up and lets wait for him 💓#we have esch other and we will be okay 💓#sorry for typos i can barely see its 1am 🤓

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laniidae-passerine · 5 months

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Honestly I think Dean Highbottom has some shit to answer to as well. The mockery, the derision, the outright admittance that he was hoping Coriolanus would fail and the Snow family would continue to suffer. How someone who loathed the Games still treated a young man with cruelty because of the past, because of social divides that would be so easy to tear down. In the end, it wasn’t just Gaul who shaped Snow into the man he became. So bitter and hateful. So incapable of compassion and forgiveness. Just like his father. Just like his Dean.

#like yeah there were a lot of things questionable about Snow even before he was chosen as a mentor in the games #but like. damn. you didn’t even consider the idea he could be better than his father did you?#the way kindness could have unravelled some of the hate in Snow’s heart #listen to me tell you the horrible things your father did. listen to me tell you that you can be different. you are not the past.#the divides between us do not truly exist. look at the weapon in your hand. it is real. and it can do real damage #but if you never hate someone - if they never fool you into letting violence into your heart - they can never make you use it #it breaks my heart. how could you hate a ghost so much that you’d kill a child. I don’t know. but the Dean does. and so does Snow.#the cycles run and run until somebody stops. and burns some bread. and shares berries. and takes an arrow. and says no more. I love you #it is difficult. it could hurt me. it could be the very last thing I do. it may not even serve me well. but I love you. I love. always.#how pathetic hate makes you. how strong love makes you. like staring at the Dean and staring at characters like Haymitch #like two substance abusing men who know the system inside out. who are complicit. who are victims. both embittered and angry.#but one saw a child and decided to punish him for the past #and the other saw a child and decided - okay. it’s been 23 years. my heart hurts. I want to give in. I want to hate you. I want to not care.#I’m going to care anyway. I’m in so much pain. It’s killing me. I’m going to care anyway. about you both. it won’t be perfect. but I care.#and I’ll be here through hell. and I will fuck up. so fucking badly. because I’m still addicted and angry and god knows I have suffered.#god knows these hands are bloody and they always will be. but I will keep coming back. I will keep trying. I will still love.#and in the end I will write names in a book that belongs to you and I will find a little bit of peace in a house where the sun shines #and the geese make ridiculous noises in the yard. and love will have seen me through.#HAYMITCH YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS I LOVE YOU MY IMPERFECT DARLING #dean highbottom #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #haymitch abernathy #thg #abosas #suzanne collins #SHE WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

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aeide-thea · 1 year

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[witcherposting ahead—nb that this is all totally lighthearted and it's fine if you feel differently!]

anyway what i'd started to say before tumblr ate my post was that like. disclaimer that my approach to netflix witcher canon is that i fully reserve the right to cherrypick, because some of the changes they made were good but others were character assassination, and that obviously i get that if one isn't cherrypicking one does have to actually Grapple With Certain Things 🏔

but like. that said—the more 'Geralt Must Grovel for Weeks and Probably Scourge Himself, Look at What He Did to Poor Sad-Eyed Woobie Jaskier' fics i read the more i'm fucking grateful for the tiny handful where jaskier's just been like, yeah, i never bought that bullshit tbh, he was lashing out and he owes me an apology for sure but a single angry outburst does not in fact scupper an extremely well-established relationship of literally twenty years' standing in one fell swoop???

like i just. idk. imagine remembering that jaskier's a cheery irrepressible little shit and not actually as crushably low on self-esteem as all of us are. of course that would probably require *netflix* to have remembered that, so, you know, no actual shade to anyone who's been projecting that onto him! but just like. idk. they're obviously not siblings but they honestly do have that vibe in certain ways and it's just like. did you never say something overdramatic and shitty in the heat of a fight with yr sibling growing up and then after taking a bit of a breather just like. make a rueful face and apologize for yr respective roles in winding each other up and move tf on, without having, like, a whole extended OTT reparations process where you tell them repeatedly how perfect and sinless they are and how you know you're a miserable worm who doesn't remotely deserve their sunshiny presence in your life but would be so grateful if they could, possibly, somehow, see their way to forgiving you despite yr essential unworthiness—

#anyway. i think there are like. MAYBE like three of you reading this blog who give a shit abt this fandom‚ lol #so i'm mostly just talking out loud to myself here‚ which is fine‚ what's a perblog for if not that #but it's just like. yeah on the one hand you don't just get to yell at people without apologizing at all #on the other hand like. some relationships are strong and elastic enough that one (1) snip is not going to cut them #even a vicious one!#also like. jaskier DID handle that convo clumsily lbr. like. obviously geralt was not Justified but.#if i'd just had a vicious breakup and somebody came bumbling in making loud awkward small talk about it? jesus.#anyway. really ultimately this is just a 'have consumed much too much witcher fic and the Patterns are starting 2 irk me' thing #but it's just like. sometimes things are conflict between two imperfect people #and not a Good Woobie and a Sinful Meanie #anyway. time 2 go reread Sekrit Mutual's fic in which they actually keep in mind the fact that jaskier is a selfish gremlin #who despite himself really does love geralt and as a result is like. constantly torn between his nature and his urge to do right by geralt #but like. fundamentally he's a buffoon and a popinjay who yaps aggressively and then runs back behind geralt's legs #and joey batey leaning into his Soulful and Romantic side (that he does also have) doesn't actually erase that about him‚ nor should it!#anyway. this post is careening all over the place but i think it's just like. exactly the same weird terfish moral binary #that ppl have been talking abt with like. gender and kink and a whole range of things #where like. you always have Victims and Perpetrators #and so jaskier has to be like. the femme bottom victim which makes geralt the macho perpetrator totally undeserving of sympathy #and it's like. actually they're both imperfect people and neither one fits very well into their society's idea of what a man is #and what if we actually examined them as individuals rather than tropes and also remembered yennefer was fierce and interesting #and what if ciri weren't‚ like‚ a manhattan private school girl with her brows done while we were at it #getting a little overambitious with my wishlist there though i know

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actualtoad · 2 years

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today was such a day (negative, mostly)

#it’s my sisters birthday #she’s been really stressed because of my parents being so actively vehement at each other all week. she’s okay rn though #um #my friend teacher she/herred me like three four times while introducing me to somebody!!!!!!#and then???? my next hour teacher deadnamed me in front of the entire class because she doesn’t understand having multiple names in multiple #classes and yesterday she was bringing up how a different teacher had called me ari and i was like oh huh yeah okay i go by many names #like trying to be funny and vague about it but then today you know what she did? she called me ari-arthur-anya #she called me two school names and my FUCKING deadname because she doesn’t GET IT and im so FREAKING mad at her and she does NOT get a card #im so pissed im so mad at the two teachers that i thought were probably the most accepting teachers that i’ve ever KNOWN and now here they #BOTH of them on the same day one after another an hour apart!!!! im so pissed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#and i know that mr hidaka didn’t MEAN it he’s talked to me about gender and stuff like!!!! i know it’s not representative of all of him but #it just hurts really bad that people who i know and love who are SO important to my feeling even a little safe at school #it hurts really bad knowing that they don’t even think of me as myself. that mr h can just forget to use my pronouns makes me want to cry #im so tired of it being something that people have to remember to do. im so tired of this other everything being the default #i need a fucking beard or something i guess. give me some time please!!!! i want to be a teenage boy please!!!!!!!! im so tired!!!!#i had a good morning with mr hidaka mostly like. basically i skipped my first hour class i couldn’t do it today i didn’t want to be there #and i couldn’t do it. so i went to his room how i do. and i said can i stay here. and he said of course i could but i would get marked #absent from my first hour but as long as i was okay with that i could stay. and so i did and i was working on stuff. and then #another teacher showed up. and okay something you guys for sure don’t know about my friend teacher is that he’s a frisbee coach at my school #like he’s in charge of the ultimate frisbee team shdhdf. he’s really into it it’s not really a sport feeling thing but it seems like fun #so anyway the other teacher was like hey (hidaka first name) me and some guys from the team are gonna go throw some frisbees do you want to #and mr h was like. yeah sure!! and he gave me the option between i could stay if i wanted but i could come with too and i said i’d come with #but i cant do frisbee. so it turned out to be the kids from the team and the other coach were doing fancy stuff together and me and mr h #just played some catch and he showed me how to do it and it was really fun and nice and it was really good #so it sucked when then the other teacher was like. so who’s this lovely person anyway? (exact words he said)#and my friend teacher mr hidaka said oh she skipped her first hour so shes here with me #and that hurt my stupid feelings pretty bad!!!!!!! i didn’t say anything though #and then the rest of the day happened. and now im home #all i have left for the rest of the school year is just my chemistry final so im not doing homework tonight #im still making finishing his book into a high priority it’s higher than the project

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luveline · 6 months

Note

spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3

im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭

ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k

cw for sexual harassment

"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over.

"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?"

"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh.

"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?"

"Top of your thigh."

"Shit, really? Can you see my–"

"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs.

"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently.

"Do you want my jacket?"

"Don't cover it up, toots."

You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks.

"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction.

"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one.

Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse."

"We were just messing around," one says.

"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy."

"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."

His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down.

"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine."

Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?" His voice fries.

"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants."

Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–"

"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad."

"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you."

"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk.

"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here."

"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures."

"You shouldn't have to."

"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome."

"Right now?" he asks dryly.

"Are you handsome right now?"

"Are you really flirting with me right now?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning."

"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know.

You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?"

He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you."

"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?"

His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup."

"Just a small token," you say.

He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want."

"You sure?"

He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper.

He pulls you closer.

You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone.

"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today."

He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it."

"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so."

"Hotch is pretty pissed at us."

"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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wheresarizona · 20 days

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but I would die for you in secret

summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist - One Shot

The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.

To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.

Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.

So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.

Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.

If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.

You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.

There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.

It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.

Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.

That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.

It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.

Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.

Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.

The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.

The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.

And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.

It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.

For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”

“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.

There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.

“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.

You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.

“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.

“No-none,” you stammer.

His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”

His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.

His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.

Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”

Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.

Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.

“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”

The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”

“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.

“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”

He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.

It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.

He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.

The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.

You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”

His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”

You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.

Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.

“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.

“Yes.”

The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.

The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.

He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”

His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.

His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.

You’re so close; you’re just needing—

Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”

That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.

A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.

It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.

Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.

Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”

His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?

He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.

All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.

His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.

When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.

Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.

He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.

“What did you say?” you ask.

“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”

The question has your tight walls constricting around him.

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.

The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”

“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”

He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.

The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.

For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.

It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.

Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.

“Joel?” you break the silence.

“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.

“What are we?”

“Huh?”

“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”

His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.

“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.

You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”

His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”

“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”

“Well, there’s Ellie—”

“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”

“Yes.”

“So, you have feelings for me?”

“Of course.”

“Do you love me…?”

“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.

One word has your heart picking up in speed.

“I love you, too.”

His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”

A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.

“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”

His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”

Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”

He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.

This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.

“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”

His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.

“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”

“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”

He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”

Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.

“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”

“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”

His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”

Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”

“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.

“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”

“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.

You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”

“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.

“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”

“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”

“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”

You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.

“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.

“I do,” you reply.

“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.

“‘Cause no one else can?”

He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.

His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”

And something about that declaration thrills you.

“I’d like that.”

He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.

“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”

You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.

The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.

All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.

From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.

Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:

It was time for him to tell Ellie.

Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.

If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.

He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.

He hates that.

He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.

When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.

He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.

The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.

It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.

It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.

His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.

“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.

“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.

“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”

He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”

She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.

She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I asked you first.”

She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.

“I was at the same place you were.”

He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.

He meets her eyes. “And that is?”

She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”

“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”

“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.

“You done?”

“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”

His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”

“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”

“Were we really that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”

“What topic?”

“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”

He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”

She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”

“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”

His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”

“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”

“You’re what?!”

Masterlist - One Shot

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #wheresarizona writes #joel miller x you #Joel miller/yo

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