#and i mean i guess i do kinda find that appealing

[bloodsbane]

so i really liked this part in the snack/sorbet episode, and since i've been in a Think About Dunmeshi mood the last couple days, i've been trying to interrogate why this little moment caught my attention (besides the fact it's cute and appealing animation-wise - i especially like the movement of chilchuck pulling his head back up and gesturing with his hand afterwards)

i guess the short answer is it's a nice moment between chilchuck and laios. like, to me, it's an oddly... not vulnerable position, but maybe more open for chilchuck? it's a couple things: the POV shot emphasizes the fact that he has to tilt his head up and back to look at laios because of the height difference, and i know it's been shown (mostly in bonus material i think) that laios tries to be careful about how he interacts with chilchuck because chilchuck doesn't like feeling infantilized for his size (like laios not obviously bending/kneeling down to hug him, as an example). like, chilchuck could've still turned his head while looking up, or even walked backwards to look at laios, but he does this instead.

then there's the fact laios is gently pushing chilchuck forward. it's a small thing, but i know pushing can feel... well, pushy, maybe patronizing or rude in some cases, depending on the context and who's doing it, yknow what i mean? but chilchuck doesn't appear to mind. and this last part is probably mostly a me thing, but i think there's a certain amount of trust being demonstrated here, because chilchuck is 1) letting laios guide him, 2) trusting laios enough to not look where he's going for a second, which 3) idk about you but i find the act of walking forward while looking up mildly disorienting

i get this is probably mostly me looking into things a bit more than i need to! but still, i've always really liked the moments where chilchuck demonstrates that he does see laios as their team leader, and generally trusts laios well enough, even if he might prefer laios behave differently and sometimes decides he needs to be pushed to understand/confront certain things. their relationship dynamic is a particular one, kinda subtle, but there's a degree of respect and trust that i just enjoy seeing!

#banebabbles #do i need to make a lil meta tag for myself.... well #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi meta

[a-hazbin-reader]

HII

Could you do some hcs of alastor with wife!reader who ABSO(LUTE)LY adores dogs? (alastor hates the dog with his entire life)

I mean...he kinda has a good reason not to be a dog person...

😡

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor Vs Doggo 🐶 Cannibalism, Vox getting owned by dog

Description: ☝️⬆️

Look, Alastor loves you deeply and would do anything for you, absolutely anything

Except let you have a dog

Absolutely not, he won't have a dog running around in his hotel and creating problems

He can already see it

The dog using the hotel as it's personal bathroom, gnawing on his hooves and ruining all the furniture

Humping everything in sight!!

You can have anything else, you can have Niffty! She makes a good pet don't you think?

No

How about Husk? He's basically a cat

"Fuck you!"

You want a dog, you even have one picked out already

You what? When did you even have time to go look at dogs? He's been purposefully keeping you busy anytime you mention one

The bite marks all over your body are evidence of it

Totally doesn't believe you're actually bringing home a dog until you do, then he's spitting out his tea

"Y/N, darling, what is that?"

"A smoothie."

"You know what I mean."

"Oh this? Our new dog, isn't he cute?"

You can't have a dog in the hotel-

Charlie and everyone else already agreed to it, even Husk said yes just to piss off Alastor

So everyone is on your side and you'll have adequate help, Alastor won't hardly ever even notice the dog

Except he does notice the dog, like all the time

The damned beast is always trying to hop up next to him, only to be shoved off by Alastor

"No furry beasts on the furniture~ The hair is a nightmare to clean up. Disgusting really..."

Not Husk and Angel giving him dirty looks for that one

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to sit next to him, it simply settles for resting by his feet

At least it makes a decent footrest

Or the dog is always hogging your attention, sitting in your lap, laying with you in bed, following you around

How is a man supposed to sleep with his wife when there's some mutt in his spot???

You've caught Alastor glaring at your dog a few times, especially when you're giving him scratches and pets

He wants to be the one to hog your lap and be pampered by you, maybe you could even try giving him a belly rub or two

It certainly looks appealing

Alastor at least thinks he can get time alone with you outside of the hotel but nope, you insist on taking the dog with you

"He needs the fresh air and exercise, Alastor!"

But your husband needs some alone time with you! He's not being dramatic!

Or he's trying to enjoy his breakfast?? Guess who's paws are on the table, begging and slobbering over the idea of a bite

"Absolutely not, you can just forget abou-HEY!"

Looks like his breakfast now belongs to the dog

You definitely make him another breakfast and apologize over and over again

Kiss him and sit in his lap, then maybe he'll consider forgiving you~

Sometimes, when you're sleeping, Alastor and the dog will be locked into a staring match

"I don't like you."

Whine

Rosie tries to sell him on the idea of just maybe liking this one dog, even she's taken a liking to him apparently

Traitor

You make Alastor promise that he won't ever get rid of the dog, OR EAT HIM, OR HURT HIM

And he can't break a promise he made to his darling wife

But he hates this fucking dog with a passion so when the dog suddenly gets out one day? He's perfectly content to let him run off

Until he realizes how upset you would be that your beloved pooch is gone and that gives him pause

Fffffffffuck

Not him spending all day trying to find a dog he doesn't even like, asking everyone if they've seen him

Nope, no, sorry no, ect

Just when Alastor has just about given up and started to contemplate trying to replace the mutt, he hears a familiar yell

"IS THIS DOG FUCKING PISSING ON ME!?"

Vox

Following the sound, Alastor is greeted with the sight of your dog running circles around Vox, who's standing in a puddle with wet pants

For some reason, the delightful mutt has taken to terrorizing him, biting at his limbs only to jump just out of reach of Vox's claws

Maybe it's something he's picked up from Alastor, you certainly didn't teach the dog that

The sight is too funny for Alastor, who doesn't even try to stop the dog, only laughing maniacally

Maybe this mutt isn't so bad

Later, when he comes home with the dog, you notice they seem much fonder of each other

Alastor goes and picks him out a fancy new leash, he starts giving him table scraps and he even invites the dog to be his footrest

Quit putting your feet on my dog

Stop giving the dog fingers!!

You catch him giving the pup a few scratches here and there, almost in an absent-minded manner

He starts calling the dog by his name instead of calling him beast, mutt, hound, monstrosity, ect

He even gives the dog his own room at the hotel with his own fluffy doggy bed

Okay, that last part might just be him wanting his marital bed back

We love dogs in this house!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[melrodrigo]

Secrets - Cairo Sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: Cairo comes to you after she has her first big heartbreak, but finds something other than comfort.

Warnings: (teeny) underage drinking, Cairo has a lot of mood swings, it eventually ends happy!

A/n: Not sure if I hate this but a cairo fic as promised! enjoy <3

When Cairo told you about her crush on Mr.Miller, you were (rightfully) disgusted. He was at least twice her age, a teacher, and wasn’t even that hot.

You thought maybe it was something silly, a joke if you will, to humor you on a particularly boring school day.

But over the weeks, things changed. It was subtle, but not enough for your keen eye to miss. Something in Cairo’s eyes sparkled, a look you’ve never seen from her before.

She would gush about him after class, and during she would stare at him, blatantly, open with her intentions. It was hard for you to watch.

But the worst thing? He stared back.

Weeks of weird sexual tension and seeing them outside of school, you’d grown more and more sick at the thought that this could be real.

Something people needed to know about Cairo was that she was a dreamer. She might seem realistic on the surface, but secretly, deep deep down, she yearned for that fantasy love she was always writing about.

You could kinda understand the appeal, you guess. An older man, a writer. Still, that didn’t stop it from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

So when she came bursting through your door two weeks later sobbing, you hadn’t known that you would realize there might’ve been something else holding you back from being so supportive of her actions.

The minute you’d opened the door she came rushing into your arms. You wrapped her up, rubbed her back as she calmed down.

“Please don’t cry.” You told her, in a way that Cairo felt wasn’t ignorant but comforting. Like you cared so much about her if she cried it might tear your heart apart. The way you were looking at her in that moment, she couldn’t help herself from wondering if maybe you did care for her as more than friends.

You were certainly the character. Her attractive, sweet, considerate friend. The complete opposite from Winnie. More reserved and a poet at heart. Really, she’d never kissed a girl, but she definitely wouldn’t have a problem kissing you.

Before she knows it, or before she can stop herself, she’s tilting her face up and grabbing your hair towards her. The moment your lips touch it’s fire.

She catches the sight of your surprised face for a second before you close your eyes and surge forward, with more weight than she would’ve expected. A weight that’s not at all unwelcome.

The more the kiss escalates the more she feels like needs more. It’s primal. The pure lust she’s feeling.

Her hands tangle in your hair, yours in hers. She leans in to press her body against yours, desperately seeking more skin-on-skin contact.

You happily let her do so, mind foggy with lust and her and her and her.

“Cairo.” You groan into her mouth, unbelieving that this is really happening.

She gives you no indication that she hears it, only takes that opportunity to slip her tongue in, breathing heavily.

It feels so good, and her scent fills your nostrils. The smell you love so much, something of a mix of pinewood and cinnamon.

But there’s something else- a sour smell that’s so strong it almost burns.

You realize all at once what it is. Alcohol. How you didn’t notice it before on her breath was a wonder. It’s enough to break you out of your trance.

“Cairo.” You say, more forcefully this time, pulling away and pushing her down onto the side of your bed.

She whips her head around, confusion and hurt so clear on her face you feel yourself crumble a little.

“What?” She asks, eyes glazing over. There’s conviction in her tone. You know she gets like this, defensive, when she gets hurt. Your eyes widen at the realization of what you just did.

“Oh- no,no,no. I didn’t mean it like that.” You blubber, trying to fix things before she misunderstands. She stares at you hard, squinting slightly.

“You’re drunk Cairo, you don’t mean any of this.” You say, hoping she’ll come to her senses and agree with you.

Even though this is a dream come true, you don’t want to ruin your friendship for one night of bliss. Not to mention she’s drunk, a good deal so, and it would just leave you feeling dirty.

“I’m drunk but I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. What, you think just cuz i’m intoxicated I’ll fuck anyone?” She hisses, inching closer to you, menacing despite her small frame.

You gulp. “That’s not what I said.”

It comes out in a weak mumble. Cairo rolls her eyes. Her annoyance fires up something in you, and this time you speak stronger.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re drunk, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you want to now, how am I gonna know you won’t regret it later?” You say, watching as Cairo gets so close to you that you’re face to face.

“I’m not going to regret it.” She slurs, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling.

You resist, but she doesn’t care. Her grip tightens until she’s pulling slightly at your hair. You tell her to stop once but it falls on deaf ears.

“Cairo I’m serious. You’re hurting me.” You plead again, and the voice crack that leaves your lips seem to be the thing that brings her back to life. She blinks once, twice, the brown returning back to her doe eyes slowly but surely.

She retracts, pulling her hands back and looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” She says, bottom lip quivering. You stay silent, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n I’m really sorry.” She says again, eyes sorrowful.

The mood swings on this girl, you secretly think.

You take her hand in yours, and look into her eyes. You know she’s telling the truth, you know all her tells. The slight quiver of her eyebrow, the way she plays with the nape of her neck. She means her apology.

You sigh tiredly.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s just talk about this later when you’re sober, alright?” You suggest gently, watching her nod her head carefully.

“How about you sleep on my bed today hm? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want you going home in this state.” You prod, and when she agrees, you move her, softly like you’re handling something that might break at any moment. You settle her onto your bed and under the covers.

“Y/n?” She calls out when you’re fluffing your extra pillows to prepare for your bed on the floor, voice already sounding sleepy. You hum in response.

“Will you sleep next to me? I promise I won’t pull anything again.” And the way she says it, you know you could never be able to deny.

You wordlessly slip in beside her, suddenly rigid with nerves. The feelings you were feeling when she first came in were returning. Could it be that you liked Cairo?

The quiet atmosphere doesn’t help with your swimming thoughts. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep much next to her, you feel a little tingly all around.

A couple minutes pass by and when you’re sure you’ve heard Cairo start snoring, you try and step out the covers, desperate for some relief of your wildly beating heart.

An arm drapes around your body before you can begin to move, and you peer over to see Cairo with half lidded eyes, sleepily telling you not to go.

You had no choice now- how were you to leave? It was like waking up an adorable animal that fell asleep on you.

You scoot your body closer to her so she doesn’t have to reach for you so much, and try to relax.

Not five minutes go by before Cairo pokes your cheek and speaks again, amusement in her tone.

“Your heart is beating very fast.”

#cairo sweet x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet #millers girl

[rafeandonlyrafe]

how you get the girl

words: 900

warnings: mutual pining, brief mentions of sex

“hey, rafe.” you say, plopping down on the couch next to him, lucky to find him alone at the party.

“what’s up?” rafe asks, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“just wanted to ask you something.” you say, biting your lip.

“want to ask me to fuck you in the bathroom?” rafe smirks.

“no, uh-” you have an agreement with rafe. he likes you, or more like he likes to fuck you, so you’ve agreed to a friends with benefit type situation. “theres a new restaurant in town, i was wondering if you wanted to go with me tomorrow?”

you don’t expect rafe to say yes. it goes outside of your agreement that should be simple, but the feelings have over complicated it.

“oh.” rafe is taken aback back the question. “sure.” it’s not the answer you’re hoping for, but it’s a yes, “is it fancy? should i wear a suit?”

“no,” you shake your head and let out a little laugh, “i think just jeans and a nice shirt would be good. i’m just wearing a sundress.”

“a sundress?” that perks rafe up. 

you laugh, knowing how much he likes you in that style of dress.

“mhm.” you nod. “pick me up at 7 then?”

“oh, i have to drive?” rafe jokes, knowing while you have a drivers license, you almost never drive. you don’t have your own car, and whenever you and rafe hook up, he always picks you up and drives you back to your house.

you giggle, kissing rafe on the cheek. “i’m gonna head home, see you tomorrow though.”

you’re surprised that rafe doesn’t say anything about you not hooking up that night. he gives a playful slap on the ass as you walk away, sharing your sentiments about seeing you tomorrow. usually every time you’re at a party together you’ll hook up. you’re happy and satisfied immediately, of course, but after you are just left feeling empty inside, wishing you could be something more.

--

you spend hours getting ready, way more than you usually do for a night with rafe, hoping this time it really is different. your hair is curled perfectly, makeup applied without a flaw (at least there better not be, you washed it all off and reapplied twice because your foundation wasn’t sitting right), and your dress was picked out especially to appeal to rafe.

theres a knock on your apartment door and you hurry to answer it, taking a deep breath before swinging the door open.

“hey!” you try to act casual but you know the excitement on your face is evident.

“hi- wow.” rafes eyes widen. “you look gorgeous.”

“why thank you.”

“these… are for you.” he says it like it’s almost a question, holding up a bouquet of flowers. 

“you got me flowers?” you don’t mean to sound so rude, but you’re in shock.

“i… i asked sarah for dating advice.” rafe shrugs, “she said to get you flowers, and um, i guessed that you’d like peonies.”

“they’re my favorite.” you say honestly, taking the bouquet from him and giving them a sniff. “come in while i put them in a vase.”

you lead rafe in, heading towards your kitchen. “did you really ask sarah for advice?” you ask, going to get a vase down for a cabinet, but rafe stops you, getting it for you so you don’t have to reach so high and get on your tiptoes for it.

“i um… i’ve never really been on a serious date before.” rafe admits. “and i really like you.”

“you do?” you turn to face him, setting the vase down.

“i don’t just hook up with a girl i don’t like for a year.” rafe scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the countertop.

“i guess, but i kinda figured… nevermind.” you shake your head, picking up the vase and filling it under the sink.

“no, tell me.” rafe says, helping you unwrap the bouquet and place the individual peonies in the water.

“i just thought that’s all you were interested in me for, you know, hooking up.” 

“maybe at first, before i got to know you. to be honest, i was feeling… unsatisfied. oh- not, not with the sex.” rafe assures you. “ just with the whole arrangement.” rafe chuckles. “i guess i fell for you at some point.”

you turn towards him now that all the flowers are in the vase. “i can’t believe your saying this.” “why?” “you’re just so… you. you’re being all soft right now.”

rafe laughs, placing his hands on your waist and pulls you in close. “don’t tell anyone about that, by the way. can’t ruin my tough guy reputation.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” you laugh, giving rafe a peck on the lips. 

“ready to go to the restaurant?” rafe questions. “i don’t want my girl going hungry.”

it’s the first time that rafe has referred to you as his girl, and you know he doesn’t miss the blush on your face as he leads you out to his truck, helping you in the passenger seat.

“check your makeup.” rafe says as he gets into the drivers side.

“what?” you ask, wondering if something was wrong, like if your lipstick was smudged, or mascara was running. you fold down the visor to reveal not just the mirror, but your name in diamond letters along the bottom.

“rafe!” you scream, looking over at him, noting the smug look on his face.

“it’s not like anyone uses it but you.” he shrugs.

“i- i fucking love it, i don’t know what to say.” you lean over and give him a big kiss.

“you’re officially my passenger princess now.”

#obxweek23 #reupload! #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

[semisolidmind]

i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-

what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.

Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?

love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate

ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.

not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.

you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.

they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...

...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?

the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.

they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.

wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.

she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.

besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.

she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.

---

reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.

macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.

he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.

'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.

while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).

macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.

macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.

reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.

---

macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.

with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.

the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.

of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.

but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.

he just feels so...peaceful, with her.

the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.

and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.

---

sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.

during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.

he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.

macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.

macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.

the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.

this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.

and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.

…she let the monkey king in.

she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.

but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.

now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.

but she tries anyways.

“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”

macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.

“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.

“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."

reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...

she doesn’t have a choice.

reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.

with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.

he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.

---

reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.

reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.

she finds nothing.

"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.

reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—

"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.

"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"

reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.

she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.

"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."

---

wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).

reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.

she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #immortal peach au #i guess??? cause shes an immortal??? #this got waaay longer than expected #got tired and couldnt figure out how to end it #dialogue is hard

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (series) (PART NINE)

Word Count: 13.0k

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT   

A/N:

1. OVER 13,000 words. I did that. And I did it for YOU. But you can thank Linda and her latest review because its the reason I'm uploading tonight instead of tomorrow.

2. I love Bill & Frank. That is all.

3. Joel Miller is a giver. This is my HC and I will not be dissuaded.

4. NOW: This chapter contains some imagery that non-hornies might find ... intense. What I'm saying is there is smut, and my smut tends to be on the descriptive side. I have tried to tame it down for this M rating, but I kinda don't really know what the difference between M and E is. If smut really doesn't appeal to you (that's fine darlings! I ain't offended - skip to the next chapter when I update).

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maria brings you home later that week. She attempts to help you from the car as if you're an invalid but you wave her off with a grumble. "I'm fine."

"I guess if I was Joel you'd let me help, hmmm?" Maria says lightly.

You both move towards the house but this comment causes you to stumble before you right yourself. You dart a glance out the corner of your eye at her. She’s watching your face with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that I told you I would take you to the doctor's four separate times,” Maria reasons. “Joel Miller swoops in and immediately you're in the emergency room?"

"He forced me."

"I've known you since we were teenagers," Maria says with a roll of her eyes as you enter into your suite. "No one can force you to do anything."

"He was very insistent."

"You like him."

You want to say something more but you're stopped, your eyes wide as you enter into your domain.

Twinkling Christmas lights are hanging around your bed frame, the fireplace, your window. A small artificial tree is resting in the far corner decorated with red and gold baubles. The knitted sock with your name stitched on it is hanging off the fireplace mantle. 

It's all of your Christmas items decorating your place. And your entire place has been cleaned - even the windows look clearer. It looks so beautiful in here, the kind of beautiful you’ve only seen in cards and movies.

After you'd moved in here, the thought of decorating for holidays hadn't seemed too appealing. You thought the space was too small, that your ornaments and decorations would look out of place. But it makes your space seem so homey, inviting and warm.

"Did you do this, Mar’?" 

Maria is grinning widely at your reaction. She looks around the space satisfied with her handiwork. 

"Didn't want you coming back to a messy place after being in the hospital. I know how you feel about hospitals."

You blink back tears before you gather her into a tight hug.  For the millionth time that year alone you are just so thankful that you have her in your life. If nothing else goes well for you in life, at least you can always count on Maria.

"Thank you," you say through a lump in your throat. You walk over to the electric fireplace, wanting to warm the space up. It smells delicious in here like cinnamon and fresh peppermint.

"Frank and Bill helped," Maria adds as she straightens the stocking on the mantle. "I mentioned you didn't have any Christmas lights and Frank said Bill had tons so, they came over yesterday and helped string them up."

Your heart, already softened, thumps with affection. Imagining the men from next door coming to do that just for you makes you feel overwhelmed with gratitude. 

"That's so sweet," you say making a mental note to buy them a bottle of wine or something as thanks. As for Maria, you need to make sure her Christmas gift is perfect.

"Wasn't my idea about doing the Christmas stuff though," Maria adds with a glance over at you, gauging your reaction to the next sentence. "That was all Joel. Called me and said it'd probably cheer you up." 

You school your features into a sweet smile and look over to her. She's standing with her hands on her hips, a brow raised and her full lips curled.

"Bless him," you say with a tone of 'aw shucks' and go back to the fireplace. 

Before you can say anything more there's a rap at the door.  Frank and Bill are whispering loudly to one another as you both draw over to it. Bill is muttering about Frank's cholesterol and Frank is telling Bill to hush up. You and Maria exchange amused looks and giggles before you open the door.

Frank is holding a plate of some divine smelling baked good while Bill just stands looking awkwardly around, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Just the sight of them makes tears prickle your eyes.

"You two!" you say before throwing your arms around both their necks. Frank laughs, holding you with one arm while Bill just stand there and tolerates the embrace. 

"We heard you two coming in and wanted to make sure you're feeling better," Frank says after you pull back.

"Much."

"Thanks to Joel forcing her to go to the hospital," Maria says flashing a meaningful look to Frank that you don't see. You also don't see when he returns it with a subtle smile. Frank can see the way you’re avoiding both their eyes and decides to change the subject.

“We also wanted to tell you both that we’re throwing a Christmas party.”

“Holiday Party,” Bill corrects. “Christmas is nothing but a-“

“Whatever we’re calling it, it’s happening in two weeks so make sure you’re free,” Frank interrupts with a wide grin. "We want it to be a real good one so invite your friends. Maria, invite your man Tommy of course. Oh and invite that brother we've been hearing so much about, and his little girl."

Your stomach flips. Joel and Frank are actually going to meet one another? Frank is the only one who knows about that night. And you know he’s got his suspicions about the two of you.

“Of course!” Maria nods enthusiastically.

“It’ll be a nice one too,” Frank tells you both seriously. “Classy. No jeans and sweaters.”

His look at you lingers, knowing you’re not the best when it comes to dressing up for events. You give a lighthearted push to his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.”

They leave a short while later after giving you the dessert (homemade pecan pie!). You and Maria decide there’s no better time than the present to dig in and do so right there, standing in the kitchen with forks in hand.

“Hope Joel can make it to the party,” Maria says casually. So casually you don’t even know you’re being watched and led right back into a discussion you thought you’d avoided previously. You nod, your eyes on the dessert she’s holding between you.

“Mhmm.”

"You know if you did like him it would be okay, right?" Maria hedges, watching you take a bite of the dessert. "That me and Tommy would support it?"

This gives you a momentary pause before you remember exactly why you can't be with Joel. And while some if it is has to do with your best friend standing across from you, the large majority of it is Sarah. You can't do that to her. You can't come into her life just to leave when things don't work out with her dad. 

"I really don't, Maria," you insist, internally congratulating yourself with how confident you sound. "He's really nice and I really like being his friend. I adore Sarah. It's just not like that with us."

Maria looks around your suite, taking in the glowing lights that hang all around, the small tree with its colorful baubles. She takes stock of all of this before replying to you. 

"Does Joel know that?" 

///

Joel and Tommy are on one of the job sites and Joel is in a terrible fucking mood. Sarah is in the corner of the room, sniffling and reading one of her picture books.

“You okay babygirl?” Joel calls over to her. She responds with a big smile and nod before going back to her book. His little girl never complains, even when she’s green around the gills like she is today. According to Tess, Daniel’s also really sick, something going around at the daycare they both attend.

Sarah’s had the cold the last few days and that means Joel has gotten no sleep since then. Because you’re not around he also doesn’t have any reliable child care, so poor Sarah has been carted from site to site all day today because he and Tommy are under a strict deadline from Kathleen.

Despite Tommy living with Joel in his basement, he rarely sees his brother anymore. The younger Miller is constantly off with Maria or he’s talking about Maria or he’s thinking about her (Joel can tell by the far-off look he gets). And most of the time this doesn’t bother Joel.

Lately however? It fucking infuriates him.

Tommy has always gotten what he wants. Joel started this company from the ground up and Tommy had joined when it was already becoming successful. Tommy had spent most of his twenties fucking around while Joel bailed him out time and time again. Tommy got to find the perfect woman and fall in love. Tommy never truly works for anything.

This is in his mind when Tommy’s phone goes off in his pocket and Joel has no patience reserved for his brother.

“Leave it,” Joel growls, intent on finishing up quickly.

“It’s Maria, hey baby,” Tommy greets with a smile. He goes to light a cigarette which Joel promptly scowls at. Tommy frowns at his brother, pocketing the cigarette before going back to the conversation. “Uh huh, yeah. Just finishing up here.”

Joel can hear the chatter of Maria on the other end of the phone but he can’t decipher what she’s saying. He doesn’t care, he has to make sure that this-

“She’s home now? Good, I know you said she hated the hospital,” Tommy says, his hands going to measure the drywall even as he talks. Joel’s own hands still on the wood he’s been cutting, pausing as he realizes what Tommy’s saying.

You’re home.

Joel pretends not to listen as he prepares the drywall, but his head is tilted so he can catch what his younger brother is saying.

“Yeah, pneumonia’s brutal. Uh huh. Yeah, ‘course.”

When did you get home? Today? Should he go over?

Joel cannot think of anything else. He has not been able to get you out of his head and if he's honest with himself he's not trying. He likes you living in his thoughts. 

No. Stupid. He shouldn’t want you in his thoughts. You don’t want him.

Why would he go over to see you? He’s got a sick Sarah to think about. Plus what would be his excuse? No, he needs to give you space. You ran from him when he tried to touch you, and that was the clear indication that you two are meant to be friends.

Just friends.

There are worse things to be; Joel decides as he nails the drywall to the plank he and Tommy have raised, he just can’t think of any now. In fact, thoughts of just being your friend are putting him in a decidedly shitty mood.

He needs to stay away from you. He needs to ignore this flame that starts up when he’s near you. He needs to stop pursuing something that isn’t going to happen. He needs to stop thinking about you in the way you will never think of him.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy says, lowering the phone to his shoulder. “Enough nails!”

In a daze Joel looks to the drywall he’s hammered, frowning to see it dented in areas from over pounding. Tommy goes back to his phone, shaking his head at his suddenly distracted brother.

“Yeah he’s here, why?” Tommy glances over to Joel, listening before speaking over to him. “Joel, you wanna go to a Christmas party? You and Sarah? Maria’s neighbors invited all of us. Next Saturday.”

Joel frowns and shakes his head. He doesn’t feel like a party right now. He feels like going to sleep. Between the additional jobs Miller Construction has taken on and his sick daughter he can’t imagine doing anything other than sleeping for the next month.

And he knows that if it’s Maria’s neighbors throwing the party then you’ll be there. You’ll be there and he can’t see you right now. He needs a break. He needs a few weeks to just get his head on straight so he can stop thinking about you in a way that makes his pants grow tight.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Tommy says into the phone, his voice dropping. “But yeah ‘course I’ll come.”

“I wanna go to a party!” Sarah shouts from her corner of the room, her little voice raspy. “Daddy, please!”

Joel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.”

///

You keep replaying Maria’s words in your head.

“Does Joel know?”

No.  He doesn’t because it’s all a fucking lie.

You want Joel Miller more than you want most things in this world which includes than the ability to eat heaps of chocolate without gaining weight, and that’s saying something. 

But what you want doesn’t matter. It’s not about you.

You need to keep your distance from him. He’s not for you. He’s a lovely man with a lovely daughter. Their connection to you is strong precisely because you are not dating Joel. You can’t risk losing him. Losing him means losing Sarah.

You can’t lose them.

But still, that selfish desperate feeling of connection with him is what you crave. It pulses in your mind, your heart and you can’t stop yourself from calling him later that night. The phone buzzes and you wait, almost chickening out before he answers.

“’Lo?”

His voice is rough and sleepy sounding. You dart a look to your watch to see that it’s almost ten at night. Phone manners dictate that you’re impossibly rude calling him this late and you hold in a frustrated sound.

“Fuck. Were you asleep?”

You hear Joel clear his throat and you can imagine him sitting up on his sofa, his eyes sleepy. “Just napping.”

You don’t believe him, but you’re not going to say it. You’re standing in your kitchen but you walk over to the sofa in front of the fireplace, feeling antsy.

“Hey, so,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks flush. “I just wanted. . . Thank you for taking me to the doctors.”

“Of course,” Joel says as if there was never a choice in the matter. “Next time maybe you’ll listen to me before the emergency room is needed.”

You roll your eyes at his subtle dig but then you remember the initial purpose of your call.

“Also, the place looks great and uh, Maria said it was your idea? The lights and everything?”

“You seem like the type that likes to celebrate things,” Joel replies and you’re convinced you can hear the smile in his voice. “Thought it’d make you smile.”

Jesus, Joel. Stop making it impossible for me not to want you.

“Yeah well… I loved it.”

“I’m glad.”

He sounds glad. He really does and that makes your stomach flip.

“How’ve you been?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to punch a pillow. You sound so stilted, so awkward. You can hear the smile slide from his voice.

“Not great. Sarah caught a cold-“

From you.

You made Sarah sick.

You’ve given that sweet, tiny child pneumonia. Immediately your stomach drops.

“No! Please, tell me not from-“

“No, not from you,” Joel reassures you. “She’s in daycare and about six other kids have the same bug. Getting sick is just part of the deal there. Gonna keep her home the next little bit though. After seeing you in the hospital I’m a little paranoid ‘bout what’s going around.”

“Of course.” You think about her sweet little face. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay outta hospitals?”

You both laugh lightly at that and you feel your pulse slow. Hearing Joel laugh has a strange, soothing affect on you. It makes you close your eyes as you lean against the shelf on your wall, feeling warm all over.

“She wants to make sure she’s better for the party,” Joel adds almost shyly after a beat.  “The one your neighbors are throwin’?”

“I’m glad you're coming,” you answer honestly.

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” you say quickly. “It’s gonna be fun. Frank and Bill make the best food…”

You continue on like this, enthusing about the party. Joel interjects with his own ideas on what makes for a perfect party and before long an hour and a half has passed and you’ve talked about everything around the topic of parties and Christmas. You hear Joel try to stifle a yawn on the other end of the phone as he tells you about what he’s planning to get Sarah for Christmas and you smile.

“I better let you go. G’night Miller.”

“’Night. See ya at the party.”

///

You knock hurriedly on Frank’s door as you smooth down your hair.  Maria and Tommy have already arrived at the party because they are the kind of beautiful, shiny people that are on time for things while you are the kind of woman who stumbles into a party late but waving.

You’re weighted down with bags full of gifts for everyone.

You wait for Frank to open the door, pull you into a tight hug and welcome you in. You're surprised when instead it's Sarah pulling open the door. One hand is on the doorknob, the other in her father's hand. 

Universe, please give me a break.

You haven’t seen Joel since the hospital and right now he looks so good it should be illegal. Dark slacks and a deep green button up. He’s forgone the tie, leaving the first two buttons at his throat undone. His hair is brushed, and he's half crouched so he can hold Sarah's hand. He looks up as you enter, his eyes strangely guarded.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say softly before remembering yourself and looking down at Sarah.  "Hey bug, you look gorgeous as always. I must get the name of your stylist."

Sarah is dressed in a bright red velvet dress. Her hair is in its natural loose coils with tiny red bows at the temples. She looks like an absolute doll come to life. 

She smiles shyly; her dimpled cheek a mirror of her father's, before looking over your dress as you shrug off your coat. Frank had made it clear that this party was a fancy one. None of your jeans and sweaters.

So you'd bought an off the shoulder dark green dress that made you feel sophisticated and holiday theme appropriate. 

"You look like a princess," Sarah informs you with eyes that are filled with stars. 

You smile and murmur your thanks, flushing when you feel Joel's eyes on you. You can’t let your eyes to settle on him so you look past him to the sea of old and new faces gathered around the piano. Some old lady is playing something festive while a group of exuberant party-goers sing off-key.

You reach into one of the bags you’ve brought before producing a parcel with shiny purple wrapping. You hold it out to Sarah who takes it with an excited squeak. 

"No opening until Christmas," you insist. When you see her start to pout you hold back a grin, reaching into your bag again and producing a small wrapped item. “But you can open this one now.”

Joel watches as Sarah tears open the paper to reveal a chocolate reindeer in a foil package. She smiles giddily at the treat before holding it to her father and asking him to open it. He does so with a soft smile. Sarah takes a bite as you consider your next moves, wincing and then you reach into your bag and with a deep inhale shove a small parcel at Joel. 

"Same goes for you," you laugh breathily. "No opening until Christmas."

It’s nothing that great. Just a pick and a new strap for his guitars. Neither of which he has asked for. Neither of which he needs or probably even wants. He doesn’t even play them anymore.

It’s just that when you were shopping for Sarah earlier that week you’d passed a music shop. Something had given you pause and you walked in, listening to the gentle lull of the shop’s holiday music, letting your fingers trace the pearlescent picks until you’d found one the perfect shade of ochre that just felt like Joel when you saw it. 

The strap had been a last minute addition because giving Joel a single guitar pick seemed really stupid the more you thought about it. You’d picked a buttery feeling leather one the same color as his eyes.

“Thanks,” Joel says looking surprised and a little bit uncomfortable. “I didn’t expect a gift.”

You hadn’t expected him to get you anything so it’s not that which makes you uneasy. It’s that the sweet Joel you’ve gotten to know the last few weeks has been replaced by his quiet, withdrawn doppelganger.

You don’t know what else to say so you attempt to move past the two of them into the roar of the party when Sarah stops you with one tiny hand on yours.

"Mistletoe!" Sarah says through a mouthful of chocolate, pointing to the plant above your heads in the door frame. Joel looks stricken and you try to hold in your shock at the sight of it. 

"Jesus," Joel mutters. "Where did that come from?"

"Frank," Sarah cries enthusiastically.

You stare at Sarah in confusion at this. "Why-" 

"You have to kiss her, daddy," Sarah says clapping her tiny hands in delight and looking from Joel's face to yours expectantly. “You kiss people under mistletoe. Frank told me.”

No fucking way.

You don’t want to kiss Joel.

Scratch that, you desperately want to kiss Joel.

You desperately want to kiss him because his mouth looks so soft and you just know deep in your bones that he’d kiss so perfectly. You want to kiss him because just being in Joel's eye-line makes your body tingle. You want to kiss Joel because you really, really like him.

But Joel looks really, really uncomfortable at the thought of kissing you right now. More uncomfortable that you at this point and for some reason this makes you feel awful, even though you feel the same.

He’s also staring at you with this look you haven’t seen in so long from him. This dark pile of bricked up wall that insists you stay on your side. It makes you physically take a step back, suddenly unsure of whom it is you’re looking at.

"C'mere babygirl," Joel says bringing a squealing Sarah into his arms and pressing a peck to her cheek. 

You feel immense relief at this diversion, smiling over at Sarah and backing away from the offensive plant. Sarah is complaining to her dad that he was supposed to kiss you, but you sidle past them and go towards the party.

The music is gliding over the crowd of festive attendees. Everyone is dressed beautifully and not surprisingly Tommy and Maria are stunning. Tommy has left off the baseball cap and he’s clean shaven. He dresses similarly to his brother, but his shirt is a deep burgundy that matches Maria’s slinky dress perfectly.

It occurs to you belatedly that you and Joel have picked similar shades to wear this evening. You will yourself not to cringe over that fact.

“You look stunning,” you tell them both, holding Maria’s hands in yours. The three of you chat for a bit, amazed at the decorations and the food spread of this party. You idly wonder how Bill is handling all this attention and frivolity in his home.

“I don’t know how Bill is surviving all of this,” Maria giggles as if reading your mind.

Frank and Bill’s place is by no means small, but with the group of people it’s packed with and the decorations it feels cramped. You note that the tasteful decorations right out of a magazine.

A few kids a bit older than Sarah are at the gingerbread cookie decorating station (of course Frank thought of that), some are gathered around the piano, and some are watching a holiday movie in the other room.

Frank swoops in wearing the gaudiest green suit covered in candy canes that you’ve ever seen. Strangely enough he pulls it off. He presses a kiss to your cheek and says he’s so glad you came and dressed in something not covered in animal hair. He tells you to mingle before moving onto the couple who has entered after you.

Your eyes fall onto your other host and you hold back a laugh. Bill has been forced into slacks and a black sweater with a snowflake design. His hair has been brushed back and Frank forced him to trim his beard.

When you approach him you realize now how Bill is surviving all this chaos. He's absolutely tanked. His cheeks are red and he's smirking intermittently behind his wineglass.

“Enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” Bill says with a crisp tinge to the ‘s’.  “I love strangers in my home eating my food and touching my shit.”

There’s no malice there, only amusement. You watch as the party swells with more people of all ages, the music loud and the night beautiful. Seeing all these happy faces dressed so beautifully in the soft glow of winter decorations makes you feel cozy.

When Sarah enters into the room you take her by the hand and insist the two of you decorate a gingerbread cookie together. She is only too happy to do so, squealing in excitement and tugging you towards the messy table.

Joel watches the two of you and feels a pang in his chest.

Coming to this party was a terrible idea. How could spending more time with you make him want you less? Especially when you’re dressed like that? You’re kneeling beside the child’s table, squeezing icing onto Sarah’s cookie. Joel holds in a moan when you lean forward to place the sprinkles and his eyes are drawn to the swell of your breasts.

He needs to stop wanting you.

He needs to do something drastic.

You and Maria are nibbling on the cheese spread later that night when Joel approaches you, tapping you on the shoulder. You turn, surprised to see him looking at you agitated. He shifts from foot to foot slowly, his shoulders tensed.

Something’s wrong.

Maria seems to sense this too because she tells you both she needs to find Tommy even though you both know he’s over with Sarah and the other kids playing some reindeer ring toss game. You swallow your cracker, wincing as it scratches your throat going down.

“What’s up?”

"I can't accept this," Joel says shoving your gift back into your hand. You stare down at it, the small rectangular gift; a present you had wrapped twice because the first time you had decided it wasn’t good enough.

"Why not?"

"I just - I can't," Joel grumbles. 

You feel everything in your body go cold. What happened? What did you do wrong? You take the gift back, holding it in your palm and feeling humiliated.

“I don’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t be right to take it. I didn’t get you anything.”

"I didn’t expect a gift from you,” you insist, trying to hold in the tremor starting in your voice. “You're not gonna make Sarah give hers back too are you?"

"No. Course not."

"Then why-"

A loud cheer sounds from the other side of the room, drawing your attention over Joel’s shoulder because someone has convinced Bill to play the piano. 

Deciding that you don’t want to talk about this topic anymore with Joel, you move past him to stand near the crowd gathering at the piano. You watch fascinated as your usually reclusive neighbor taps a few of the ivory notes, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Everyone shut up. I’m going to play,” Bill announces his face pink and his hair going wild at the temples. Frank is coming to stand near you, his face open in wonder at the sight of his normally quiet husband commanding the room. Several voices pop up suggesting songs for Bill.

“Play Jingle Bells!”

“Away in a Manger!”

“The twelve days of Christmas!”

“None of that shit!” Bill insists with a scowl as he places his fingers on the keys. “I’m gonna play you all the song that made Frank fall in love with me.”

You hear Frank take a sharp intake of breath, his hand going to rest at his sternum as he watches Bill. You feel your mouth hitching into a smile as you watch your dear neighbor’s eyes fill with tears at the first notes played.

“Love will abide Take things in stride Sounds like good advice But there's no one at my side And time washes clean love's wounds unseen That's what someone told me But I don't know what it means”

Bill is by no means a professional singer but you can’t explain the spell cast when he sings. His voice normally harsh is more muted when he sings, soft and unsure of itself. It makes the song feel intimate, like it was made for them to sing and hear alone.

“Caught in my fears Blinking back the tears I can't say you hurt me When you never let me near And I never drew one response from you All the while you fell all over girls you never knew”

You’ve heard this song before you think. One that your Mom used to play when you were little. But you’ve never really listened to the lyrics and they’re heartbreaking. This is the song Frank fell for Bill over?

Maria is a few steps away from you, shooting you a surprised look. She was obviously not prepared for this side of her neighbor either. Bill continues, his fingers moving deftly over the piano keys in a way that is so graceful and at odds with how you view him.

“Wait for the day you'll go away Knowing that you warned me Of the price I'd have to pay And life's full of flaws Who knows the cause? Living in the memory of a love that never was”

You sneak a glance at Frank to see his eyes are wet with tears, some of which have slipped down his cheek. Yet he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the burly man who sings with abandon, his blue eyes shut lightly.

“'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long long time”.

Bill’s eyes open to land on Frank as the song concludes and it’s like the room collectively sighs in adoration. 

The applause is gentle but warm. You glance around to see a lot of misty eyes, Maria is dabbing the corner of her eyes with a napkin and Tommy is biting the inside of his lower lip so hard you think he might be drawing blood.

Joel is nowhere to be seen.

"Okay, you can all leave," Frank jokes to the room before making his way to Bill. 

The crowd laughs and you watch as Frank leans over the piano to press his lips to his husband's waiting ones. Bills eyes flutter shut as he returns the kiss, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile under his beard.

They pull back and the open adoration in both their gazes takes your breath away.

That’s love.

You're surprised to feel your own eyes burning at the sweet sight accompanied by a wave of melancholy that washes over you. It morphs into a selfish, clawing ugliness that makes you back away from the crowd and leave the room, needing to go somewhere quiet.

You need to be away from everyone.

You move into one of the rooms off the hall, quiet and dark and realize instantly that its Frank’s paining studio, a place you rarely venture into. Like Bill, Frank is a bit protective over his things, though he’d never admit it.

An easel with a half-painted portrait of Bill sits in the corner. A wall of well organized oil paint implements greets you as you enter into the space. The floor is wood and your heels click over it as you move to observe the large windows leading out into the dark of the night.

A plain grey sofa sits at the far wall and you collapse into it, letting your head hang. It’s not long before you’re cupping your face in your hands and crying softly.

This is the first Christmas without Paul. Your first Christmas not going home. And while you don't regret either of the decisions that lead you to these ends, you can't help but feel a little sad for yourself. 

Poorly paying job, no car, no real apartment to speak of. Single. Last guy you dated was a coke head. Obsessed with a guy you’re pretty sure currently hates you for reasons you aren’t even privy to. The list is looking pretty grim. 

Your gift for Joel is placed beside you, only adding to your misery. You don’t hear the half-opened door being pushed completely. You only hear the rough timbre of the last person you want to see right now.

“Are you okay’?”

You immediately stiffen, wiping at your face with your hands when Joel enters the room, closing the door behind him.  You don’t bother answering him, hoping that if you twist away from him he’ll get the message to leave.

The room is cloaked in semi-darkness, the only light coming from the glowing lights along the outside of the house. It bathes you and Joel in a softness that belies how prickly you’re currently feeling.

“Is this because of the gift thing?” Joel asks, looking guiltily between you and the present sitting next to you on the sofa.

“No,” you snap, embarrassed at being caught in such a state. “Not everything is about you, Joel.”

He turns to leave, realizing that coming in here was a terrible idea. For some reason something is bubbling within you, an overarching anger that makes you stumble up from the sofa and over to the door that Joel is attempting to open.

You push it closed, squeezing between he and it.

“What is your problem with me all of a sudden?” you demand, your eyes blazing as you look up at him.

“N-nothin’” Joel stammers, looking strangely wild-eyed.

“Then why are you acting so weird tonight?” you insist, not even realizing that you’re moving forward as Joel steps back to get away from you.

“I’m not-“

“You are so! Why won’t you accept my gift?” you snarl. “I’ve always accepted everything you’ve given me with thanks.”

“Not everything.” It jumps out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Your hands are at your sides in angry fists that loosen when he says this.

“What?”

“Gimme space,” Joel rasps out at you, his eyes travelling the entire circumference of your face as you stare up at him in confusion.

You don’t realize when you crowded Joel against the wall, but you have. You step back immediately before you shake your head in disgust, throwing yourself back onto the sofa. His present is there and just the sight of it makes your anger rise again.

“Just keep the fucking gift Joel,” you snap, throwing the parcel at his feet. “Stop acting childish.”

Joel had been about to duck out of the room, his large hand on the doorknob once more. But at the sound of the gift hitting the floor beside his feet and your guttural insult he stops abruptly.

You can almost hear the moment that he goes from concerned to furious.

“I’m acting childish?” Joel counters, throwing himself into a kneeling position on the sofa next to you. One of his wide hands is on the back of it, the other palm on the arm of the sofa that you’re now pressed back against. He’s caged you in and up this close you can see the vein at the side of his throat ticking angrily.

“You’re the one who ran away from me and then never returned my phone calls.”

The shame you feel is immediate. There it is, the truth laid bare. It makes you feel panicked and you realize that you and Joel have swapped emotions seamlessly. Because now you feel cornered and terrified and Joel looks absolutely incensed.

His dark eyes are boring into yours, his mouth inches from your face as he breathes, his warm breath buffeting your cheeks. You can see his teeth are clenched angrily.

“We already talked about this, Joel.”

“No.” Joel shakes his head sharply. “No, we didn’t. I tried to make it easy on us by not pushing it. But I’m done pretending that I don’t want you.”

Your eyes blow wide. Did you hear him right?

“Not as a friend, not as a babysitter,” Joel continues his tone harsh despite the sweetness of his words. “I want you for my own.”

“Joel,” you plead in a whisper.

Fuck. You want him so badly.

“I wanna take care of you,” Joel insists, his eyes morphing from furious to completely undone. “But I can’t do that if you won’t be honest with me. You ran from me that night and I wanna know why.”

You can’t keep looking at his face or into his eyes. It’s too intense. You close your eyes, wincing as you say the words you tried to hide. It’s too late to tell Joel the lie that you just want to be friends. It’s too late to pretend like he doesn’t do something to your insides. It’s all too late.

You have to be honest.

“I was scared,” you admit, your cheeks blazing. Joel’s eyebrows saddle as he looks down at you.

“Of me?”

“No,” you shake your head, tsk-ing that he would ever think that. “Of what it would mean.”

Joel seems to be calming because his jaw loosens and he nods, moving back from his looming over you.

“Sarah.”

“Yeah, Sarah.”

The two of you lapse into silence, unsure of what to say next. Joel has retreated now, just sitting next to you on the sofa in the quiet and you shift to a seated position, your eyes cracking open. Your heart still races though, and you’re unable to stop looking at him. Even now, flushed and defeated he’s striking.

“There is something here isn’t there?” Joel says gently, his imploring eyes turned on to you. “Something strong… I’m not imagining it?”

Your heart literally squeezes when he says that. You have to close your eyes again and steady your breathing because right now anything you say will be a stammering mess. He’s right there is something here, something strong. And it terrifies you. Not just because of Sarah.

"Yes there is," you finally answer, feeling the flush rise through your body. “You’re not imagining it.”

Joel’s eyes read relief at this and you feel a stab of guilt knowing that he’s carried around this confusion for so long.

“But still probably not a good idea,” you finish lamely.

Joel doesn’t reply, but you can see him absorbing this information. Joel’s eyes often give him away, but in the semi darkness you’re not quite sure what he’s thinking. You can’t get a read on if he’s upset and angry or just dejected and accepting.

You can hear the sound of the party raging outside, muffled from the closed door.

“I should get back,” Joel announces quietly, making a move to shove off the sofa and stand. He pauses when your hand flies to his wrist, your fingers pressing gently there. His dark eyes dart to your face, but your eyes are on his mouth.

You don't want him to leave. You want to stay in his space. You want to breathe the same air. You want him to touch you.

I’m done pretending that I don’t want you.

You want him so badly it dwarfs the fears and anxieties you’ve carried with you. This palpable need is so intense that it makes every other emotion seem insignificant.

You can't help it.  Joel Miller is just so beautiful and his words keep curling around your heart.

I want you for my own.

You don't even realize you've shifted forward and tilted against him until your palms land on his broad chest for purchase. You hear him take a shuddering inhale before your lips press firmly against his soft mouth. 

Immediately his hands are wrapping around you, holding you to him tightly. One hand moves to lie gently astride your neck, thumb resting on your jaw. The other is banding around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

The sensation of his lips shocks you, half because you never thought he'd return it so immediately.

The kiss is gentle and sweet and you wish he never had walked into this room because now that you know what it's like to kiss Joel Miller, nothing else will ever come close. 

This is the kiss to which all others will be compared.

Then its intensity picks up, and you feel yourself being pushed back to lie on the sofa. His hands are sliding along your body and yours are carding through his curls as he groans gently. Your thighs squeeze his midsection as he moves between them, his body heavy and warm atop yours. 

You crack your eyes open to see his staring down at you.

You hold in a whimper. He's just so delicious. Your mouth finds his again, your body arching against his. Your dress has ridden up and you can feel him there lengthening under his slacks, his clothed member pressing directly against your core.

Your eyes blow wide at this sensation and you pull back from his mouth,

Being here kissing him feels so impossibly right but so terrifyingly serious. Like a spotlight shone on you and all your insecurities you've ever had about the two of you together. Every concern you’ve ever had suddenly springs up, overwhelming you. It makes Joel search your face, seeing the anxiety overtaking your features. When the haze of lust is overtaken by a very unwelcome rationality, you feel your stomach hollowing in panic. 

It makes you want to run. 

"No," Joel insists gently, as if he can read your mind, his wide hand spanning over your sternum and holding you there. "You're not runnin’ again."

Joel wants to keep kissing you. From the feel of your full lip under his fingertip weeks ago to your mouth on his seconds ago, this is all he has thought about. Seeing you in that dress tonight, watching your face go from furious to completely lusty just now?  Having you hold him between your legs? It's heaven.

You look so good right now. Your hair is dishevelled and your mouth full and reddened from his ministrations. You look like you're ready to be fucked and Joel desperately wants to oblige but he can also see the wild look expanding in your eyes, like a skittering rabbit.

He can feel your heartbeat under his fingertips and he dips his mouth to yours for what he hopes is a reassuring kiss.

"We don't have to do anything more," he murmurs as he pulls his face back. "I'll stop touching you right now if you say the word. But you're not running again. Not from me." 

He's not going to move again until you do. 

You didn't really want to run from Joel Miller. Not now, not ever. It's just that wild fight or flight in your brain that insists you close off yourself to the potential hurt. Was it really Sarah this whole time that was holding you back? Or that secret part of you, the one that believes you’ll be abandoned?

You don’t know anymore.

"Joel," you start to say you should stop. That you’ve already gone too far. That this entire thing is a bad idea. Your hands fly to his broad shoulders because you're going to push him off of you. 

Except you don't. 

Your hands keep grazing up his shoulder and moving to wrap around his neck, pulling his face back down to meet yours. And now with this silent admission of desire, Joel unravels. His voice becomes tight, grainy and he murmurs what you think is: "So fucking beautiful."

You're not sure you heard him right, and if you did you don't know what to say to that. Your eyes are fixed on his full mouth. His lower lip is so full, so inviting you want to nibble on it. 

Then his mouth is on yours again and now you're clutching at him, trying to remain calm even as his tongue sweeps between the seam of your lips your thighs tremble around his midsection.

Where did he learn to kiss like this? If it was Michelle I’m sending her flowers.

It's not fair, you decide as he begins licking into your mouth desperately, one hand on the architecture of your jaw, the other spread wide against your lower back. It's not fair that one person should be so handsome, so strong and so good at kissing. 

"This is what I wanted to do that night," Joel rasps against your mouth.  You moan as his mouth moves to your jaw because you wanted him to do more that night. He’s got you pressed so tightly into the sofa you’re concerned you’re going become one with the cushions.

"Want you so fucking much," he murmurs. His mouth moves to skim along your jaw and you shiver as his wide palms travel along your body, brushing your tits through your dress. You arch as his thumbs brush over the peaks of your nipples through the dress.

Your arms are around his neck and you're clinging to him because you don’t want to let Joel go. Not now. Not ever. He's hovering over you, one forearm holding him up while his free hand goes to cup you through the fabric.  

"Christ," Joel moans, his head dropping to kiss along your bared clavicle. His hands are kneading your breasts through the flimsy fabric. A distant part of you is realizing what's going to happen if he keeps going. You’re going to let him fuck you right here on this sofa in the middle of a bustling party.

“Joel, I . . . “ you trail off because you don’t know exactly what you need, you just know it involves Joel and his touch.

"Need to -" Joel's murmur trails off. He makes a grunting noise low in his throat, pulling down the neckline of your dress with ease to expose your bra.

You don't even care if he rips the dress, you'll buy a new one.  But then you realize with a wince that he’s now revealed the cheap bra you always wear. A part of you internally screams at your poor choice of underclothes because in them you don't feel particularly alluring but Joel's eyes are almost black with desire.

He tugs down the dress and pushes you up and out of the cups of your bra, his eyes fixed on your bared chest in the near darkness. It causes your arms to go to your side, fixed there by the tight fabric. Joel takes his time, blowing gently on your nipple and sighing when it puckers further under the sensation.

"Fucking perfect," he murmurs before lowering his mouth to begin sucking on one hardened nipple as his fingers pluck and graze the other. The result is electric, like shots of fire going through your body, starting at your breasts. You grip the back of his neck for purchase the best you can, holding back the moan that threatens to escape you. 

You arch along the arm of the sofa as Joel's hips hold yours in place. He's grinding against you, the feel of his thick, warm member very apparent even through his slacks. 

"Joel," you sigh because that's all you can formulate in the moment. He makes a deep groaning noise before pulling off your nipple with a pop and moving his mouth back to yours. Your hands tangle in his tousled hair as you kiss him back fervently. Your bared chest rasps against the buttons on his shirt.

You love kissing Joel.

God, his mouth, his tongue. His hand is sliding to your throat while your hands are skimming the front of his shirt, your fingers itching to undo his buttons. You want to feel the warm skin of his torso. You want him in your mouth. His hands are going to curl around the waistband of your panties, his breathing erratic.

“Need it,” he moans softly in your ear. “Please let me taste you.”

You are boneless when he says those words. His voice is so low and velvety and despite the fact that he posed the question, it’s you who feels uncertain. His mouth is on yours again and he’s tugging at your panties.

He’s going to fuck you right here on this sofa in the middle of a party. With everything in your power you pull back from his seeking lips.  

"W-we should stop. Anyone could walk in."

He pulls back, his body aching against yours. You try to focus on his face but you feel like you're head is swimming. Joel glances at your mouth as if considering kissing you again. But instead he nods and brushes a hand against your cheek before pushing himself up and out from between your legs.

He leans back up and you follow suit, dragging your dress back up over your chest. Joel seems deflated at that. You can’t seem to make your brain work because Joel sitting there with his hair tousled from your hands and his mouth all swollen. You know you wanted to stop but right now you’re forgetting why. It seems like Joel’s handsome face is too impossible not to focus on.

"We need to talk," Joel murmurs. And you know what he means. If this is going to work you need to talk about this.  This is a huge step for both of you.  It shakes you from your lusty focus and you nod.

"Yeah," you agree. 

“Your place?”

“Sure.”

"I'm gonna tell Tommy to take Sarah home." 

"Okay."

“And you’re not gonna run?”

You glance up at Joel’s face when he says that, his voice tight and his eyes impossibly vulnerable. There is so much reflected in Joel Miller’s dark eyes, these wide open galaxies that pull you in. Right now they show hurt and concern and this deep, deep need.

Your hand comes to cup his bristled cheek and you hold in a sigh when he leans into your palm, his eyes falling shut. A look of peace has overtaken his usually stern features, smoothing them into the face of a man surrendered.

It makes it imperative to cup his other cheek and move your mouth over his, kissing him gently and reverently, as if you can transfer all your affection and care for him through the action before pulling back.

“I’m not gonna run.”

He smiles at you in a crooked way that makes your heart skip before he quickly stands and moves out the door of the studio, closing it softly behind him. 

What just fucking happened?

You sit there catching your breath for a moment before forcing yourself to a stand. Your entire body is shuddering, like you're getting over a fever. You make your way out of the room because you need more of Joel. You need his hands on your body and you need his tongue in your mouth and-

"Not your type, huh?"

You’re immediately startled when a voice reaches out to you. You glance over to see a very amused Frank looking at you from the top stairs of the basement. He's holding a new bottle of wine and looking decidedly too smug. 

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

You scowl at him harshly, about to say something when Joel reappears wearing his jacket and holding yours. Your face immediately morphs into a stupid, dazed sort of smile when he grins at you.

“Ready?”

You nod, pulling on your jacket and feeling your heart kick as he takes your hand in his, leading you to the front door.

You don’t even notice Frank holding in laughter before going to rejoin the party. 

You’re thankful that the rest of the party is in the main room, leaving you both to escape undetected.

As you walk the short distance to your place the ache between your legs is staggering. You feel giddy and anticipatory as he scissors his long legs across the grass, his eyes fixed on the darkness in front of you, navigating you both safely to your door.

He drops your hand only so you can pull out your keys to unlock your door. Why did you fucking lock it tonight of all nights?

Joel’s arms are crossed loosely as he leans against the door watching you fumble with your keys. For some reason you’re having trouble making your hand and brain move. Those soulful eyes of his dart from the lock to your face.

Cupid's bow couldn't have struck harder than Joel Miller's eyes in that moment. They're glazed with fear and guilt mixed desperately together and you see it mixed up with open lust when he speaks softly. 

"Do you still want-"

He doesn't even get the sentence out because you've launched yourself at him, your arms instinctively going to wrap around his neck. His mouth comes crashing into yours, the deep relief of your reciprocation clear in the way he holds you to him. 

He's got you pressed against your front door with his pelvis, his broad frame dwarfing you as you fumble with the knob at your spine. You kiss him with abandon, your hand continuing to scramble over the handle before you feel Joel pull back. 

You crack your eyes open to see him smirking down at you. (How have you never noticed how impossibly sexy he is when he does that?) He moves his right hand from the side of your neck to the knob, turning and pushing the door open. 

You're about to say something self deprecating about how you're normally an expert at door opening, but then Joel's hands are on either side of your jaw and his lips are on yours again and - fuck, you can't think straight, your mind is consumed with this beautiful man kissing you so well. 

Joel walks you backwards to your bed, kissing you the entire way as you both discard your jackets onto the floor. When the back of your legs hit the end of your bed Joel is gripping you by the waist, licking into your mouth with such need that your back arches. Your hands are on his shoulders, gripping there to keep from falling. 

"I've imagined this so many times," you sigh against his parted mouth. You don't have time to consider if you should have kept that to yourself because Joel's reaction to this confession is electric. 

He hits his knees so quickly it's dizzying and before you can think or say anything, Joel is hitching up your dress to bunch at your hips before kissing you there. It's obvious what he intends to do and despite everything in you telling you to stop him, that it's all going too fast, you can't. Instead you arch back, your hips dropping towards him. 

You stare down at him, your heart beating like mad as he curls his forefinger around the lace of your panties and looks up at you with a face that asks your silent permission. 

You nod without hesitation, your breathing becoming staccato-ed as you watch him pull your already soaked panties down your legs. You step out of them, your hand going to brush his cheek. Seeing Joel kneeling in front of you, his hair tousled and his mouth parted in wanting causes you to shudder all over.

He gently urges the crook of your left leg over his broad shoulder, opening you to him. He's so fucking seductive kneeling there in front of you, his eyes taking in your sex with the look of a man meeting his salvation.

His hands are trailing over your thighs, the back of your knees, your calves, as if he's trying to map your body by touch alone. You can just see the curls of his hair as he leans forward, inhaling deeply and groaning again, his lips trailing over the tops of your legs languidly. 

Did you ever think that you would go from yelling at Joel Miller to having his mouth between your legs? 

He's murmuring against the soft skin of your hip now, something deep and low. You want to ask him what he's saying but then you whine low in your throat as he brings a hand to your leg on his shoulder, holding you in place as he presses gentle kisses to your silken inner thigh. 

"Tell me to stop and I will," he says looking up at you from his place half-knelt on the floor. 

Then his mouth descends. 

Any reply dies in your mouth at the first swipe of Joel's tongue. 

"Jesus!"

You clap a hand over your mouth, suddenly aware that Maria might hear you upstairs if she didn’t go to Tommy’s. But Joel is gripping your hands, pulling them down and making you fist them through his hair. 

"Hold," he tells you plainly, urging your hands to tighten in his locks. You're powerless to deny this request as his mouth returns to your aching core. Your hands hold onto his curls for dear life as he begins to taste you.

Joel is so talented at this that you genuinely consider sending Maria a fruit basket along with the flowers. Within seconds he has you gripping his hair as you tilt back, your body trembling.

“So fucking good,” he says between licks and deep, open-mouthed kisses.

Your head tilts forward on your chest, looking down the length of your body and holding in a moan.  DaVinci's ‘Mona Lisa’. Michelangelo's ‘David’. Van Gogh's ‘Starry Night’. All beautiful works of art and yet to you nothing comes close to being as exquisite as the sight of Joel Miller moving between your legs. 

His eyes are shut languidly, his nose nuzzling your clit as he works his tongue between your folds. Jesus Christ he's a work of art. His tongue is teasing you, flicking lightly. With every passing moment you feel the sparks building within you and you start to feel the familiar lightheaded sensation.  

"I-I need to lie down," you gasp, your knee threatening to buckle. Joel nods, coming to a stand and easing you back onto the bed. He straddles you there, his body curled over you as he kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips and this makes you groan into his mouth. 

“Need to keep tastin’ you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. You whimper, nodding as he begins to push your dress up your abdomen again. 

He brings his body down the length of yours and off the bed. He stands there, looking down at you with your wild hair and full mouth and you suddenly feel so exposed. The dress is resting just over your hips and you go to cover your aching pussy. Joel frowns, batting your hands away.

“Don’t hide,” he says gruffly before surging towards you. You give a small sound of surprise as Joel tugs your ankles until you’re at the edge of the bed.

There he kneels again as if in prayer, his hands coming to coil around your thighs before placing them over his shoulders. You watch this moaning softly as Joel’s dark eyes dart up the length of your body.

You expect him to look away or at least close his eyes, but instead he fixes his gaze to you before moving his mouth against your core in silent worship. You can’t keep looking at him there, your thighs parted wide on his broad shoulders, his soft mouth pressing kisses to your cunt before his eyes flutter shut.  

“Joel,” you whimper, feeling impossibly selfish. He’s mapped most of your half naked body and he still has his fucking clothes on! “Let me touch you.”

Joel shakes his head slightly before his hands have found yours again, urging them to grip his hair. You acquiesce as his palms push your thighs open wider, so that his tongue can reach deeper.

“Wanna make you come first,” he grunts lazily. “Need you to come on my tongue.”

Joel Miller is a giver.

His voice is low and thick and the desire wraps itself around every syllable.

If Joel just stood there at the end of your bed saying deliciously filthy things like that, never even touching you, you are convinced you could just come from that alone.

You’re about to shakily say something when you see him palming himself through his slacks as he tastes you. His hand is wide and squeezes intermittently, his groans increasing as his mouth devours you. Is he getting off to getting you off?

That’ll do it.

"Joel!" His name tumbles from your lips as you crest, your hands tugging at his hair urging him deeper. He acquiesces readily, fucking you with his tongue and sending you into that sweet, blissful state of release watching you the entire time. 

You arch off the bed, your hands going from his hair to clutch the sheets next to you as you come, your body jerking against his mouth. You expect him to stop, to join you in the bed but his eyes have fallen closed and he’s still going.

"Fuck! Joel I-" you can't finish because Joel isn't stopping. 

“You can give me another,” he says flicking his tongue lightly.

He’s smiling dreamily, his eyes still closed as he continues to suck on your clit, and now his finger has come to slide into your sopping center. You’re making obscene noises, rutting against his palm as his tongue continues laving at your clit and another finger joins the first; curling in that sweet spot you can’t reach yourself. 

Your hips are thrusting shallowly, and you feel yourself tumbling into another orgasm, this one sharper and more localized. You come raggedly calling his name, your thighs trembling along his shoulders.

Only after you come down from this second high does he pull back with his damp mouth curved into a self satisfied grin. You know your eyes must betray their every thought because he climbs up the bed, his mouth slanting over yours.

He kisses you sweetly, his mouth full and warm before he lays himself next to you in the bed, watching as you pull the dress back down over your hips. You roll onto your side to face him, your heads both resting on the same pillow.

He can’t stop smiling at you. It’s a subtle one, one that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle slightly. The kind that makes your heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with sex. And yet, it sends your body into an internal frenzy and your reaching a hand across the space between you to land on his hips.

“We said we were going to talk,” Joel murmurs when your hands begin to untuck his shirt from his slacks.

“Yeah, you’re right. We did.”

You want to talk like you both agreed, but being in bed with Joel is making logical thought really difficult. Your hand is sliding down his hips, down to palm his heavy cock through his pants before squeezing gently. You watch in fascination as Joel's eyes shutter and how slowly he moves against you, extending the sensation before something in him stops him, his hips pulling from you. Your palm falls to the bedsheet between you.  

“So we should talk.”

You can’t help it. You want to see Joel’s face do that thing again. That little brow flick and neck bob. That unguarded way his eyebrows banded when you first squeezed. You find yourself completely taken with how Joel looks when he’s aroused. Your hands are moving back over his slacks and he’s watching it with a look of a man faced with an impossible decision.

“Maybe we can talk after?” you suggest lightly as your hand slides down his pelvis.

“A-after?” he asks in a low groan as your hand slides over the length of his cock, squeezing. You’re rewarded with another eyebrow band and deep swallow from Joel.

“Yeah,” you soothe, starting slide your palm to curve around the shaft the best you can through the fabric and rubbing gently. “After I make you come?”

Joel is fighting for his life, his eyes shut tightly. “We need-need to-“

“You could finish in my mouth if you want?”

Joel makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat before his head falls into the crook of your neck, his hips thrusting into your hand. You smile, feeling something bloom within you when you hear the ragged groans coming from Joel. This strong man who could ask you to do anything and you’d oblige readily and all he wants right now is for you to touch him through his pants.

But just as you’re really starting to enjoy yourself, just as you feel Joel’s fingers digging into your hip you feel Joel shake his head, extricating himself from you gently with a growled “No” while breathing heavily through his nose.

You lean back, a small smirk on your face that he returns. 

“You’re a fucking menace.”

You laugh breathily at that, observing with delight that his eyes can’t stop going to your mouth, your breasts, your eyes. He sees your own gaze resting on the vee of his legs, his hips arched away from your still wandering hands.

"I want to," Joel promises you, his finger going to tap your chin so you’ll look at him. "You have no idea how much I want to."

"Good, I think I have a condom," you attempt to shift over and roll towards your bedside table but Joel stills you, holding you by the waist and pulling you back to face him. That strange guarded look is back in his eyes and it makes your stomach jump.

It's so surreal to be laying here beside him. He's looking at you with such a tensing of his jaw you're concerned he's going to crack a tooth. Self consciousness, that insidious beast in the back of your mind makes you curl into yourself.

Did you do something wrong? Did he regret what just happened? 

"You changed your mind.”

"It's not that," Joel insists. "Never that.”

When he sees a flicker of doubt cross your features he groans and grabs you by the wrist. You say nothing as he brings your limp palm to the crotch of his slacks. There you can feel the thick warmth of his cock pulsing as your hand grazes him through the fabric. 

"Hasn’t this been proof enough all night?" 

“Still,” you say warily taking your hand back. “What’s wrong?”

"This'll change everything," he says in a voice halfway between hopeful and worried. You consider his words, your breathing choppy because he keeps staring at you with the kind of eyes that people write poems about, the kind that move mountains and lessen resolve. When you don’t immediately answer him, you can see the flash of indecision cross his features.

“We can stop it all right now,” Joel whispers as his eyes search your face. “We can stop and we can pretend it never happened. I can do that if that’s what you want. It’d be hard but I could.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

His answer is immediate and you feel a shuddering breath of relief leave you. It’s not what you want either. Joel has told you, has shown you how he feels. You need to say something that will make him understand.

“I want it to change, Joel,” you say truthfully. “I want you. Not just in bed. Not just as a friend.”

He’s nodding now, his eyes wide and innocent looking. As if he can’t believe what you’re saying but he’s so fucking happy to be hearing it. You realize that you’ve come this far, you need to say everything that’s been dancing in your mind.

"I want you Joel," you tell him softly, your pupils blown wide. “I want you.”

His reply is whispering your name against your mouth as he kisses you. As he presses his lips against yours, pulling you tightly around him you feel yourself surrender completely.  His touch make you feel something you never felt with Paul or James. Safe. He makes you feel safe.

"I think we’ve talked enough.”

The meaning is clear because your hand has come to rest on his belt buckle and your pupils now dominate your iris. You can almost hear whatever restraint was holding Joel back snap like a rubber band. 

"I-- f-fuck, okay," Joel nods sharply, and while you undo his belt buckle his hands are coming to unbutton his slacks and bring down his zipper. 

You're over-eager, your hand skimming under the band of his slacks and boxers to where his hardened shaft lays pulsing. When your hand wraps around it, sliding gently from base to tip his hips jump off the bed. 

“Fuck!

His eyes are slammed shut as his hips thrust into your hand. His teeth are clenched so tightly the dimple in his right cheek has popped out.

“Joel look at me,” you plead, needing his eyes on you. They open a crack, glittering stones shining out at you from a pinched face.

“Just relax,” you soothe, your hand gently stroking him. “We don’t need to rush.”

This seems to get through to him because Joel nods. You watch his jaw unclench, and his fingers release the death-grip they’ve had on your bed sheets. His hand moves to twist in your hair, holding there for purchase. His eyes open fully now, limpid and staring at you while he grunts and thrusts into your hand.

You can’t help but lean forwards, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving your lips to his ear.

“I need you in my mouth, Joel,” you whimper against the soft skin of his earlobe, relishing the shiver that runs through him at the sound of it. Joel is shockingly responsive to your touch, as if he’s gone so long without it.

“You don’t have to-“ he starts but you ignore him because you're desperate to taste him, to just drag your tongue over the swollen head of his cock.

You’re pulling down his slacks and boxers, groaning when his erect cock is freed. It throbs there on his belly, golden and thick with a rosy head that is begging for your tongue. Joel is so fucking gorgeous laying there, his dark eyes wide as your tongue trails over your lower lip. Your hair has drifted in front of your face but Joel’s wide palm comes to brush it back.

“Thanks,” you say huskily as your mouth curves into a smile. “I want you to be able to see everything.”

His cock twitches at that and he makes a choking sound in the back of his throat.

“Jesus.”

It’s a guttural sound, like you’ve ripped it from his chest. You love it. You love that you’re the reason the normally reserved Joel is rapidly unwinding.

A sinful thought breaks into your mind: could you get Joel to whimper for you? The thought of turning a man like Joel into a needful, whimpering mess under your tongue makes you teeter on the edge of orgasm by thought alone. You see his neck bob as he swallows thickly again, his eyes fixed on your face. Your eyes drift towards his cock.

You need him in your mouth, you need to taste him.

And you would have accomplished such a feat if Joel's cell phone hadn't suddenly gone off loudly in his pocket, startling you both.

The beep is loud and sharp and it sends you almost tumbling off the bed as the red-cheeked Joel digs into his pockets looking furious. With a trembling hand he pulls out the phone, reading the message that’s come through before swearing.

“Everything okay?”

You’ve crawled back up the length of him. For some reason you can tell that your night is about to be cut short.

"It's Tommy asking where I am."

You can see the indecision in his eyes and frown at the rapid softening of his cock. You watch with disappointment as he shifts his hips, pulling his clothes back on in a hurry.

"Stay," you insist, not caring that you sound plaintive. “Please stay?”

Joel looks momentarily flustered at the sound of your voice pitched low and begging. You can see him biting back a groan as he turns his gaze on you.

“Sarah’s had a nightmare. She’s asking for me.”

Immediately you sober, knowing that there is no way you’re going to ever make Joel pick between you and his daughter. That’s a battle you were born to lose. So instead you sigh, disappointed but understanding as he pulls on his jacket. You force a smile on your face and tell him you understand.

“Tell bug I said hello,” you offer with a smile.

Despite the fact that she’s a major cockblock in this moment, you still love the kid.

Joel looks over at your form in the bed, your eyes big and sad. You may be okay with him leaving but that doesn’t mean that you’re happy about it. To be fair Joel looks so fucking disappointed, maybe even more than you.

He stands beside the bed, knowing that if he stays a second longer he physically won’t be able to leave. You watch him pull on his jacket, willing yourself not to focus on how good he looks when he’s getting ready to leave you.

"How about breakfast tomorrow?" Joel concedes out of nowhere. “Just you and me so we can talk more about this?”

“Like a date?”

Joel’s answering grin causes something in your heart to gallop. He leans over, his palms pressing onto the bed so he can reach you to plant a full-mouthed kiss to your lips before pulling back.

“Exactly like a date.”

Delight blooms in you and you nod with a grin.

"Yeah, I’d love to.”

Joel stays leaning on the bed for several seconds, his eyes scanning your face. You would ask him what he’s doing but you’re doing exactly the same. You’re memorizing every line, every eyelash. You’ll hold those small fragments of him until you see him next.

Finally with resolve he pushes off the bed and goes to the door, pausing only to turn back and say in the most devastating of low tones:

“And then after breakfast I’d like to come back here and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

He closes the door to the sound of your nervous giggles.

///

It's finally happening. 

Joel's heart is pounding against his ribs so brutally that for a moment he considers if he's going into cardiac arrest. When he remains upright and alive minutes later, he continues walking up the path to your door. 

You want him.

You admitted it.

You said it.

He can still see it, the intensity in your gaze as you whispered those words: “I want you, Joel.”

He’s still having trouble believing it. Still having a hard time understanding how something went from being so complicated to being so simple. He knows you’re worried about the same things he is – how your relationship will affect Sarah if things go wrong.

Simple, they aren’t going to. He knows this in his gut; he knows that you are his. It has been so clear to him these past few months and he hates that you spent any time at all not seeing it like he did.

He knows he’s smiling like an idiot as he strolls up to your door, because having you in his arms last night had felt so right he never wants to let you go. Never.   

He turns his mind to more carnal aims, recalling your body’s response to his. He can’t stop thinking about the way your face looked when you came, the sweet way you tasted on his tongue, the gentle curve of your mouth when you looked at him from between his legs.

After putting Sarah to bed last night he’d thrown himself into his own bed with the sound of your moans and whimpers dancing through his brain like music.

“I need you in my mouth, Joel.”

“I want you to be able to see everything.”

“I want you, Joel.”

He had put off stroking himself no longer than thirty seconds.  

He could still smell you on his clothes. The perfume you'd worn, warm and tantalizing, had done nothing to stop the stiffening of his member. Had done nothing but fuel his already ardent desire.

Joel… Joel…Joel…

Just the sound of your mouth and tongue wrapping around those four simple letters had him fisting himself under the sheets, his body trembling with want. A few tugs, strokes and images of your head thrown back as he made you come on his tongue caused him to erupt in his hand, grunting and then gasping out your name. 

And when you'd asked him to stay? Your face flushed and your eyes bright? You’d been so beautiful that it actually pained him to look at you. That had been the hardest thing to walk away from. 

It's this image of you that he carries with him as he knocks on your door, his hands trembling slightly in anticipation. He hears you shuffling inside and suddenly hyperaware he internally berates himself for not bringing flowers or something to mark such a moment.

And then the door opens and instead of your smiling face greeting him, you’re wearing a face you've never worn before. This one is lifeless with eyes that seem devoid of emotion.

It stops him from pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply as he had planned to, as he had imagined the entire drive over this morning. Instead he just stares at you, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

Something is wrong.

When you speak to offer a very quiet hello, it's with a voice he's never heard from you. Flat and distant sounding. There are dark circles under your eyes that makeup can't conceal. You’re leaning against the door frame as if you can’t support your standing frame. Joel tilts his head, trying to capture your eyes with his.  

"Still on for breakfast?" Joel begins, feeling uneasy when you won't make eye contact with him.

He hadn't expected this reaction from you, this chilly indifference.

"I don't really have time for that," you say hollowly to his shoulder. "I'm heading out of town for a bit."

Heading out of town? Joel frowns not recalling you mention any of this. "When will you be back?"

"Couple of weeks," you answer tiredly, still not looking at his face. "Maybe longer. Who knows?"

Weeks? Maybe longer? What the fuck is going on? He takes a step towards you, reaching for you before something catches his eye. The suitcase next to the door, packed and ready to go. When he realizes you’ve had time to think about this, time enough to pack a bag he feels his heart begin to pound for completely different reasons.

A woman he cares for and a packed bag.

How cyclical. 

He steps back and feels his entire body shutting down. All at once he feels incredibly stupid for coming here. So incredibly pathetic for sharing everything with you last night. It’s as if someone has taken his chest and squeezed it painfully from the inside.

"Right," he says laughing humorlessly. "Right." 

He turns and stalks away from you without pausing. He hopes he’ll hear your snap out of it, that he’ll hear you call his name and you can chalk this up to a weird moment. But he doesn’t because you don’t.  Instead he hears your door click shut.

It’s only in the safety of his truck driving home that Joel allows a lingering tear to slip down his cheek. 

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal #smut smut smut #filth #dirty talk #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou #Dad!Joel Miller #angsty #angst #angst with a happy ending #eventual happy ending

[somestardeww]

Roommate!Denki x male reader >:D

b4: insinuation of smut, lazy denki followed by (kinda) proactive denki followed by provocative denki (in this whole sequence denki is just someone beautiful and cute who I really want to grab by the neck and-)

Roommate!Denki who is lazy, laying on the couch, trash all over the coffee table that was in the living room and his clothes on the ground. You curse at him, throwing your hands around and yelling at him.

Roommate!Denki who, for one of the firt times, says “I’m sorry. I’ll…I’ll pick everything up.” He then stood up, grabbing the trash and picking his stuff up, putting them in his room, leaving you shocked and confused.

"I'm impressed. You're actually doing it." you say, arms crossed as you watch him pick up his clothes.

"I just got tired of you yelling at me all the time. Figured I should start pulling my weight around here." Roommate!Denki mumbles, refusing to make eye contact.

After a moment, your expression softens seeing him really making an effort. Maybe there was hope for change after all. "Just try keeping it picked up from now on. And no more sleeping the day away on the couch, okay? It's bad for your back. And well...thanks for listening I guess. And for actually cleaning up."

Roommate!Denki who answears "You're welcome. I mean it, I'll try to do better from now on. We're roommates, so we should at least try to get along." and side smile to you, meaning every word.

Seeing him making an effort made something to you. Te tension beetween you both was obvious and strong, and was no surprise when you gave him a smirk, saying "You even look cute finally cleaning up your mess huh"

Roommate!Denki that blinks in surprise at the unexpected compliment, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "Oh yeah?" he shoots back, regaining his composure. "And I'm sure you love seeing me on my knees." A cocky grin pulls at his lips, always ready with a flirty retort.

You laugh, unfazed by his reply. "Don't get too full of yourself now pretty boy. I was just stating a fact." But you can't deny, there was a certain appeal about him taking initiative for once. "Keep this look up and who knows..." you say with a shrug, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air.

Roommate!Denki who smiles, his eyes gleaming with newfound motivation. "Oh I plan to. You ain't seen nothing yet." You step closer to Senki looking him up and down with a playful smirk "Oh yeah? And what exactly haven't I seen yet, pretty boy?" you say in a flirty tone.

Roommate!Denki that holds your gaze confidently, smiling that cocky grin you've grown to both like and hate. "Let's just say...there's more to me than being a lazy bum on the couch." He takes a step towards you so you're mere inches apart, his dark eyes staring intensely into yours. "Why don't you find out for yourself..." he murmurs lowly, his breath ghosting your lips.

You can feel the electricity between you, the tension that had always been there but was never acted on by obvious reasons. Your eyes flick down to his mouth before meeting his eyes again questioningly.

"Well?” Roommate!Denki whispers. “Are you gonna make a move, or are you all talk?" The challenge hangs in the air, invitation clear on both sides.

Roommate!Denki who were kinda suprised when you grip his waist tightly, pulling him against you so your bodies are conected and your noses nearly touch.

"You talk a big game, pretty boy..." you murmur, your breath mingling with his. Roommate!Denki inhales sharply at the sudden contact, eyes darkening with desire. One hand comes up to caress your cheek softly. "Then put your money where your mouth is," he challenges huskily.

A smirk tugs at your lips, unable to resist his provocation. Without hesitation, you crush your mouth to his in a deep kiss. Heanswears eagerly, kissing you back passionately as his arms wind around your neck. You step forward, backing him up until he hits the wall.

Roommate!Denki moans softly into your mouth, submitting completely as your body presses him into the hard surface. Weeks of pent up tension explodes between you in a frenzy of lust and greedily seeking mouths. When you finally part for air, Roommate!Denki is panting heavily, lips reddened and eyes hazy with want. "Well...was I all talk?" he breathes out challengingly.

"Not bad, pretty boy..." you murmur against his throat, your breath hot on his skin. "But you ain't seen nothing yet."

Roommate!Denki that lets out a soft gasp as your lips trail a scorching path down his neck. When you reach the base of his throat, you latch on firmly and suck, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest. His hands grasp desperately at your shoulders, clinging for purchase as you mark his skin possessively. All the pent up sexual tension floods out as you explore his body ruthlessly with your mouth.

"Fuck..." Roommate!Denki whispers harshly when you come up for air, utterly shattered.

His eyes beg for more as his lips seek yours out hungrily. You grant him another deep, searing kiss to silence his pleas before pulling away just enough to speak. "Bed. Now." you order gruffly, leaving no room for argument. Roommate!Denki nods eagerly, anticipation and desire written across his flushed face.

It's finally time to see what this pretty boy is really made of. And you plan to unravel him completely. "You're walking very slowly..." U say, and lift him by the waist, holding him while Roommate!Denki crosses his legs on your hips, clinging to you.

As you finally reach the bedroom, you gently lower Roommate!Denki onto the bed, his legs still locked around you. The moment is charged with electricity, and you can't help but smile down at him. "Now, let's see if you can handle more than just your words," you whisper, leaning down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, ready to explore every inch of him.

I USED DICIONARY IN THIS WHAT

WHY ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRT LANGUAGE WHYYYY

should i continue this? *girly pop gigles*

#denki comfort #denki smut #denki kaminari #bnha denki #mha denki #denki x male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader smut #top male reader #mha #i love him so much #. º✧ ⭑☆ star dew posting

[andyling]

WAIT FUCK GUYS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA FOR A COMIC SERIES THAT WILL APPEAL TO ME AND MAYBE SOME OTHER PEOPLE BUT LIKE DEFINITELY TO ME IF DONE CORRECTLY

So like, y’know how Tim and Damien are kinda having a custody battle for the Robin title right now because DC never really managed to successfully give Tim his own identity? Well maybe we can have a series focused on exactly that, Tim finding a new hero identity. 

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL FOLKS, BECAUSE DO YOU KNOW WHO ELSE NEEDS A NEW HERO IDENTITY?

KON EL FUCKING KENT

Do I ship Tim and Kon? Yes. Do I understand that Tim is in a relationship with Bernard right now? Yes. Do I know that DC would never let the poly relationship happen? Yes. 

But guess what, I don’t give a fuck. I’m desperate here. These two don’t need to smooch I just need them to talk to each other and be best friends and go on adventures and figure their shit out. I MISS THEM. THEIR RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC, EXCLUDING ANY ROMANCE, IS AMAZING AND I NEED MORE OF IT. 

Think about it, Kon and Tim know that Jon and Damien are going to take the mantles of “Superboy” and “Robin” and they have to learn to move on. They struggle to let go, they doubt whether they truly can make a name for themselves. So, they decide to leave Metropolis and Gotham. They separate themselves from the people that have defined their entire heroic lives. But both of them are afraid of being alone, so they go together. One last journey as Robin and Superboy. 

They travel the world together. They meet some familiar faces. 

Maybe they go visit Greta and Cissie and we get to see how their civilian lives are going. Perhaps the girls suggest that maybe the two need to let the hero life go. Maybe Tim and Kon even consider it, but they realize that being a hero is what they want to do. (AND THEY DON’T FIGURE IT OUT WHILE IN A FIGHT OR SOMETHING, NO THEY JUST FUCKING TALK. THEY BEAT SOME SHITHEAD UP AND THEN THEY TALK. WHY DID THEY BECOME HEROS? WHY DO THEY WANT TO KEEP BEING HEROS? GIVE THEM SOME FUCKING DEPTH DC I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD) 

Maybe they run into Anita. She’s found out that Slobo is alive and the three of them go to save him. (AND HE FINALLY GETS FUCKING RESCUED AFTER GETTING TRAPPED AS A CONCIOUS STATUE FOR SO FUCKING LONG FOR NO GODDAMN REASON I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WAS PUT IN THE FINALE FOR THE ORIGINAL YOUNG JUSTICE SERIES THAT LAST HALF OF THAT RUN SUCKED ASS AND EVEN IF YOU DON’T AGREE WITH ME ABOUT THAT WE SHOULD ALL AGREE THAT SLOBO DESERVED BETTER). There is a reunion and it’s sweet and happy and just a nice moment. 

Shenanigans ensure, blah blah blah. They meet more familiar faces, some friendlier than others. They meet new people that help them along their journey. They now fully understand what makes them different from other heros and how they want to put those skills to use. They know what kind of heros they want to be and are ready to pave a new path for themselves.

And at the end of it the two choose new names for themselves that are hopefully not stupid and are very cool and suits them. The two have a touching moment where they say just how much the other means to them. Then they hug, maybe kiss (sorry i’m delusional), and then go their separate ways. 

Tim returns to Gotham, returns to his family, and we get a nice little reunion between the bat family. He officially resigns as Robin and the first time his new hero identity is put into action is in Gotham with the rest of his family because no matter what, he’s still a bat. Tim, as a hero, does his thing and stops crime and keeps the city safe. However he also focuses his attention on the political and corporate corruption happening in not just Gotham city, but all around the world. He even uses his influence as Tim Drake-Wayne if it can help. Most people won’t know he’s the one digging up evidence and ensuring justice is served, but that’s okay. So long as people’s lives can be changed for the better, he’ll be happy. 

Kon returns to Metropolis and talks to Clark. They have a heart to heart conversation and Kon official gives up the title of Superboy. He then goes to Jon and Kon officially gives his mantle to him. Kon was the first Superboy and Jon will be a more than worthy successor. Unlike Tim, Kon doesn’t stay in his home city. He bounces around from place to place aiding whoever is need of his assistance, whether that be working with another hero to stop a villain or helping a small community recover from a devastating natural disaster. He may not have a home city like other heros, but he still has a home. That home is simply spread out all over the world. After all for Kon, home is wherever his friends are. 

We fast forward a few months. Tim and Kon meet up at the old Young Justice base. They joke about how much they hated each other when they first met, which leads into a serious conversation about much has changed. Despite everything, they both agree that they’ve changed for the better and will continue to keep improving themselves and their lives. And yet, even after all of that . . .

“Kon, we may have given up our old names, but we’re still a part of those legacies. No matter what the future has in store, there are some things that will never change. You’re my Superboy. Always will be.”

“And you’ll always be my Robin.” 

And the comic ends. 

#i blacked out for a second there- hey where did this essay come from? #did ya see that reference to a quote from the comics at the end there #i can't be a delusional shipper if its based on canon #i mean i still am delusional #and a timkon shipper #but like that ending quote is a reference to dc canon #i would make this a full fledged fanfic if i was productive enough #i don't trust dc comics with my boys but like i'll still hope #tim drake #kon el kent #conner kent #dc comics #young justice #yj 1998 #timkon #robin #superboy

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Ive been thinking a lot about Feysand UTM fanart lately and why it discomforts me the way it does. Like, i know a lot of people like to complain about it and shame feysand shippers for romantizing that part of the story and i get it, but I also understand that sometimes people have dub-con or even non-con fantasies and thats very normal, hell, I love reading dark romance stuff involving dubious or even no consent because I think it can be very hot. Well, as long as its not cishet. I think Ive talked about this before, but when I see dark romance where theres a submissive traditionally feminine fragile "girl" and a dominant dark dangerous man, i just see The Patriarchy but on a smaller scale and while I can understand why a lot of people do find that hot in some way, i just find it kinda repulsive, so its only hot to me if its gay pretty much. or if the woman is the dominant one but its so hard to find stories like that

Anyway, so thats my first reason for disliking that genre of Feysand fanart i guess, although its really more of a reason for my dislike of Feysand as a pairing in general. The second reason is that Feysand shipper as a whole often put themselves on a moral high ground because their ship is the one thats 'healthy' and 'feminist', so it really rubs me the wrong way to see those same people create art about the traumatic events that the female main character went through that does not center her trauma at all and in fact objectifies her. And like, there are definitely plenty of Feysand shippers who like it exactly because its fucked up and a typical dark romance couple (i mean just look at all the people who only ship acotar!feysand because its the only version of the ship thats genuinely dark and they like that) and Im guessing those are the people who usually draw romanticised UTM fanart, but it does still find appeal in the broader fandom space so I think my point still stands

And now the last reason: the original UTM scene is not written to be titillating at all. Like, I just said that I find dub-con/non-con stuff pretty hot so Ive read a lot of it, and there tends to be a very distinct difference between non-con fiction thats supposed to be hot and get you off and fiction about rape or SA that actually explores the topic in a serious manner, and the original UTM scene is very clearly a case of the latter, so I find it pretty discomforting when fans (and the books themselves tbh) retcon it into being hot instead when its like, thats clearly not what it was originally imo

#anti acotar #anti sjm #anti feysand

[prince-liest]

Hi! About your staticradio series (which is PHENOMENAL omg😍) - I know you said Vox is kinda falling in love while Al will remain aro. Which is awesome, we love to see rep! But I'm wondering if they will end up as QPPs (who fuck, lol)? Or it'll strictly be FWBs? Gah it's diffifult to describe it bc labels are so subjective and often too limiting, but I guess what I'm asking is whether they'll have an emotional relationship too, however it might look with their orientations? Will Al in particular have any soft feels for Vox & be fond of their unique bond? Even if Vox is in love with him when Al himself isn't? (I worry that would scare Al away😭) An intimate emotional closeness regardless of the specifics?

Thank you so much!! I've been enjoying writing it enormously so it always brings me a lot of joy that other folks are, too. >:D Just a heads up, this post has turned a little long because it got me talking about Alastor and the way he handles his feelings vs his ego in general.

First: I think the answer to this depends fully on how you personally define a queerplatonic partnership! I don't think Alastor would ever go for, like, a committed relationship with Vox in any form, but I also don't think that this would necessarily be a sad state of affairs for Vox, who I obviously write as poly as fuck with his toxic yaoi husband. Maybe it's because I'm aro af, but I feel like from Vox's end, "Yeah, I get to fuck around with the guy I'm obsessed with and he's not, like, nice, but I think I Stockholmed him into giving a shit about me!" is not actually a state of affairs he'd dislike! Especially since it's got that shiny "I'm special!" vibe in the sense that Nobody Else Gets To Get This Far With Alastor.

As for Alastor's side of things...

I think that so much of their dynamic dynamic isn't just set by Alastor being aroace, it's also set by him being a fucking sadist and a narcissist, HAHA. Like, he is very much in the middle of developing feelings about Vox, which (if my favorite interpretation of his little breakdown in the finale is correct) is also where his character arc is heading with regards to the hotel crew in canon, too, but his friendship-and-trust arc is slowburn as all hell and not entirely linear.

Part of the fun in writing Alastor is the process of qualifying all of his feelings with his sense of superiority in a way that is protective of his ego. He is freely and openly fond of people when that fondness doesn't expose any kind of emotional vulnerability in him. For example: He feels a condescending but genuine fondness for Niffty and Mimzy, whom he protects, and that's safe! He's quirky friends with Rosy, who is a benevolent semi-equal who uplifts his ego, and that's safe! He... may or may not have started caring enough about the hotel crew to have put himself at risk for them, and that is not only dangerous to his physical well-being but also massively humiliating, which is arguably worse to someone like Alastor.

He has SO many ego-prioritizing defense mechanisms and it's fun for me to pay attention to because I, too, am someone whose cardinal sin is probably pride. Anything is permissible only as long as it can be framed in a way that doesn't insult his ego.

Anyway, the point is: I don't think "soft feels and fondness for their unique bond" is on the list of ways that Alastor is able to find himself feeling about someone like Vox. The whole reason their whole situation in 666: Live on Air! started is thanks to Alastor's awareness and amusement at how obsessed Vox is with him. He sees himself as above Vox, and knowing that Vox is more emotionally invested than he is is part of the appeal. It's just gone from (derogatory) to (fond). (Which is, guess what? Safe!)

(It also means realizing that Vox is falling madly in love or whatever just nets a reaction somewhere in the region of, "Wait, is that significantly different from what you were already doing?", lol, because the only thing that's changed is the flavor of feeling, not the level of exposed emotional underbelly that he thinks Vox is showing him.)

TL;DR: He likes Vox like a cat likes a favorite mouse.

#ask #personal #Anonymous #my writing #radiostatic #staticradio #long post #meta #alastor #hazbin hotel #this is one of those things that I have trouble putting to words in meta-essay format rather than #“look just. here's a fic. it's like this. you get it??” format #so I'm not sure I did my thoughts justice but hopefully I got close #at any rate. THERE ARE INDEED FICS. IT'S LIKE THAT. >:))) #666 live on air

[kitchenisking]

December fic rec

Spoiled by SterekvsSteter - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 875, sterek)

Stiles is just barely underage and Derek refuses to touch him until his birthday, but Stiles knows all the right buttons to push to get what he wants.

It was a Challenge!! by Kalin - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 2,444, sterek)

Derek has a kink. Stiles finds out about said kink. Let's just say faerie godmothers kinda exist. SMUT!

if you gave me a chance (i would take it) by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 4,098, sterek)

Knowing that soulmates don’t always end with a happily ever after, Stiles keeps his mark covered. The universe can’t tell him who to love.

Derek’s soulmark turns a deep maroon as soon as he meets his new roommate—Stiles Stilinski. It’s really too bad that Stiles doesn’t believe in soulmates.

Compelled by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7,023, sterek)

“I'm sorry.” Stiles held a hand up to stop Deaton mid-sentence. “Could you just repeat that for me one more time?”

“It's a compulsion spell.” Deaton dutifully repeated. 

“Meaning what, exactly?” Stiles pressed, leaning heavily against the metal table beside where Derek had perched at Stiles' behest. 

“Meaning that Derek would feel compelled to do whatever the caster told him to do.” Deaton explained. “My guess, in this instance, is that she wanted to claim you and needed Derek's permission to do so.”

bad blood, black blood by thedevilyousay - (Rating: T, Words: 2,683, sterek)

“I object!”

Stiles stumbles through the doors at the back of the chapel, haphazardly flinging them open in his attempt to get through them faster. He feels rather than sees the whole room stop what they’re doing in order to turn and look at him. For a second that lasts entirely too long, he considers turning back around again to leave but ultimately decides he’s already come this far. Leaning heavily on the first pew he comes to, he tries again, wiping the blood off his face with the ruined sleeve of his hoodie and clearing his throat. 

“I object! To this marriage. I object.”

And I wish I could shout you out by DefNotForWork - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,862, sterek)

It was the first time Derek shut him up by kissing him. The first of many. And it was almost cute.

Or in which Derek keeps stopping Stiles from saying important things, and Stiles thinks it's because he just doesn't want to hear them.

Unneeded Lessons by RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,356, sterek)

Stiles is sneaky, but Derek will always be able to see through it. However this time it works well for his own needs.

Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 15,385, sterek)

Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late?

Scent Trials by To_fill_the_sea - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,870, sterek)

Stiles is am omega with a seemingly off-putting scent and was convinced he would be alone as no one found him remotely appealing. He finds out the head alpha of their territory, Derek Hale, is holding a scent trial to find a compatible omega. Stiles has to go along with it despite knowing he won;t be chosen. It would just be another rejection. But he can't even begin to predict how the day will go.

Stitched Up by SophieTrancy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,954, sterek)

Stiles Stilinski was very happy, working for the C.A.O. He was damn good at his job and he loved every second of it. But, maybe it was just his luck, he got shot. He got shot and found himself under house arrest for a whole month. But hey, this is Stiles. After one of the strongest heats of his life and long 14 days with nothing to do, he decided to leave his apartment. 

Derek Hale had been trying to put himself back together, after the fire. After years of not being able to shift back into his human form, Derek decided it was time to search for his mate. The mate he had to abbandon because of the loss of his pack. Derek still had a long way to go, to try and go back to being that same happy, joyful person he used to be and, maybe he never did go back to that, but at least he'd try. For Stiles. To be the Alpha he had never had the chance to be for his Omega.

But bumping into the boy in a restaurant in New York wasn't how Derek had planned to break him the news. Stiles had never known they were mates, growing up and leaving Beacon Hills without ever finding one. But, suddenly, there Derek was. And Stiles had no fucking clue what was going on.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

[starysky1289]

Rookie!Vanessa X Guitarist!Reader. Steady

“ where’s our next gig at Mathew? “

“ why, so you can tell your new cop girlfriend to come watch? “

You groaned, ever sense the previous concert, Mathew and your fellow band mates may as well off been living in your business about you and Vanessa. You two didn’t really talk after the concert, besides the texting and the…lovely photos she sent you. You’d still find yourself going back and looking at them every now and then.

You all were setting up to start practice, when the patrol car rolled up to your garage. Everyone Audibly groaned, as Mathew walked down to the car, Derek got out, Vanessa at his side.

“ we haven’t even played, and fucking karen already called you? What’s wrong now?? “

“ I’m sorry matt, but yall can’t practice here anymore. The only person who has any right to practice in the house is Y/N. I’m sorry guys, to many reports “

“ this is bullshit! “

Mathew stormed back into your garage, angrily packing his stuff. You sighed, putting your bass down as you walked down to the officers.

“ officers, are you sure we can’t like, appeal this? We don’t have anywhere else to practice, we don’t get paid enough to rent out a space. “

“ I’m sorry y/n. You can try and appeal, but that’d cost more than a practice space. I’d suggest looking around for people who’d let you practice in open apartments or something, not much else I can- “

“ Fuck you Derek! And fuck you ‘ Officer Vanessa ‘, fucking rookie Bitch. “

Mathew shouted at the officers as he stormed into his car, immediately driving off. You stood alone, your other bandmates packing up, talking amongst themselves, glaring at you. Like it was your fault just because you had conversations with Vanessa.

“ I’m..I’m so sorry y/n…I can help you look if you want- “

“ save it. I don’t need your excuses…”

You groaned, turning back and heading into your garage, packing up the bass and heading inside. You threw the case on your couch, making sure it didn’t fall off, before laying on your bed, screaming into your pillow. Stupid neighbor, stupid cops. You couldn’t stand them anymore.

*~*

It was late, you were still up, starring at the ceiling. You had to eat something, you hadn’t eaten all day. You got up, heading to the kitchen, as your phone buzzed. You picked it up, looking down at the text message.

Vanessa.

“ Hey, can we talk? Maybe I can come over or we can call? “

You sighed, you weren’t mad at her. You’re here just upset at everything else. You shot her back a quick text before going to make something to eat.

“ You can come over. I suppose we should talk. “

*~*

Vanessa had came, like she said she would. She wore a simply beige sweater and some black pants, her blonde hair still in its ponytail. You let her in, leading her to the living room, letting her sit on the open spot on the couch. Your guitar case was still on it, so you pulled it off and laid it on your lap, opening it and singing. Its yellow metal was cold on your fingers, as you ran your hand over the black stripes on its edge.

“ Mathew didn’t mean what he said to you. You can understand why we’re upset. We don’t have anywhere else to practice, and our next few shows won’t get us enough money to pay for a studio to practice in. “

“ I know he’s upset, and you are too. What about a family member..? Maybe they could- “

“ I have no more family. None that’ll support me. My parents are mad I dropped out of college and joined this band cause I didn’t wanna be a lawyer. I guess it’s kinda stupid on my end, but I, I couldn’t do it. “

Vanessa was gentle with you, hiding your hand on the bass, studying it with you. She didn’t want to be the first to speak, she knew you had a lot on your mind.

“ in all honesty, Mathew is a douchebag. I originally wanted to be a singer, I could be double trouble, bass and vocals? I’d sell out clubs, but he was persistent about him singing cause he was the ‘ leader ‘. So we all just keep quiet, even if he didn’t sing to well “

“ oh, thank god I’m not the only one who thought he sucked the other day. You thought, you played wonderfully, the solo you had was amazing. I bet your voice is just as good as your bass skills too. “

You chuckled, closing the case and putting it to the side. You looked around the room, before back at Vanessa, sighing.

“ about the other night. I’m sorry I’ve ghosted you…I-i never ment too. I was so flustered from your photos, and then my mate’s have found out I talked to you and are all up my ass about it….i just..I’m not good at being a communicator…”

“ y/n…im not mad at you. I knew you practiced today, I figured what’s her name Karen would call and file a complaint, and we’d come up. I didn’t know about the situation until Derek said it to Mathew. I was gonna talk to you then, if things didn’t get out of hand. Did I, go to far with the nudes-? “

You quickly shook your head, slightly squeezing her hand before smiling softly.

“ n-no you didn’t! I..I enjoyed them..quite a w-welcome surprise. “

She scooted closer to you, holding both your hands now, blushing as she struggled to get her words out.

“ do you wanna…see it in person~? “

Your heart skipped a beat, as quickly burried your face in your hands, akwardly chuckling. The last thing you expected was her offering something like that.

“ think of it as a apology…we could…if you want, do more- “

“ n-no! No I’m just..I-I’m not ready for that..I should take you out a few t-times before I deserve that..”

“ alright then. Do you..wanna see them then..? “

You poked your head out from your hands, and nodded silently. Vanessa chuckled, taking your hands and putting them on her lap. She slowly lifted her sweater and bra, almost teasingly pulling it up enough for her tits to pop out. You blushed again, but stayed frozen. She looked just as gorgeous as she did in the pictures, her skin practically glowing in the dimly lit house.

“ you wanna touch me y/n..?. “

“ y-yes…yes please…”

Vanessa took your hands and placed them on her chest, letting you gently squeeze them. Her skin was just as soft as you imagined, as you gently massaged them she’d let out little moans, that’d only make you blush darker.

“ y-your so..pretty…I-i…I’m s-sorry I-I was mean to y-you earlier, I-i..”.

“ shh…it’s alright honey…cmere…”

You gently let go of here, and she pulled you into a hug. You held onto her tightly, putting your head in the crook of her neck. You pulled down her sweater to try and warm her.

She pulled back, holding your face in her hands, and kissed you gently. You felt like you were going to explode from it, your heart was racing. Vanessa could see it in your face and chuckled.

“ if…you want, you guys can practice in my place…and you can pay me back by taking me to dinner~ “

“ r-really! I-I mean..you’d let us? “

“ yeah, I have a open bedroom, yall can practice in there. I wouldn’t mind having a little show either. “

You chuckled, smiling again. For the first time you felt so loved, so appreciated. You kissed her once again, standing up and leading her to the door.

“ well…give me a text..I’ll try and talk to the guys. Thank you Vanessa..thank you so much…”

“ of course y/n. I love you dear…”

You smiled, and hugged her tightly.

“ I love you too…”

Vanessa let go, and made her way to the car. She hopped in, waving to you before driving off. You stood, watching her leave, before heading back inside. Never once where you shown such care and respect for your art, you couldn’t let go of her.

#vanessa shelly #five nights at freddy's #vanessa shelly x reader #rookie!Vanessa #guitarist!reader

[psinana]

I'm sorry for not requesting a drawing with this space, but I just have to ask... what is the appeal of Clausten? I am not trying to be mean or anything, I legit am very curious.

I can kinda understand Nesscas, it's the result of fledgling mother fans from Smash going "these two would be cute together" (at least that's how I always took it, apologies if that seems rude), but Clausten feels kinda like... those same mother fans finding out about claus and ninten and going "gasp! leftover stripe boys" and mashing them together like... idk what a good term is for this.

Again; sorry for misusing this space, i kinda just want to understand this ship. Not dogging on you or others for enjoying it, just wanna understand it.

I suppose while I am here, I guess I could request a doodle of Lloyd. Maybe of him blabbing about Superman comic stuff to Ninten or what have you. Lloyd needs more appreciation.

Also sorry this may be a mess to read, it was just kinda stream of consciousness

Hi! No need to apologise, I think this is a very good question!

I understand that the ship, on a basic level, doesn’t really make much sense at all! It began as a crackship enjoyed by a small percentage of the mother community and slowly developed into what it is now— a ship with many enjoyers, but not many that know exactly why they enjoy it.

I want to preface this by saying, I do not speak for every person who enjoys Clausten. I am just one of many, and this is all my personal perspective. Thank you for enquiring about it, honestly, because I love speaking about them. So, here we go!

First and Foremost: It’s a crackship— so more than any other reason I can give, it’s just plain fun! These are two characters I love and adore with my whole heart, so it’s just fun to have them interact, and of course, it’s fun to view them as a potentially romantic pairing! Ninten is my favorite character of all time, and Claus is my favorite in Mother 3 specifically, so it’s like a personal wish fulfilment to draw them together.

It’s fun to not take strict canon all too seriously. I pull my silly guys from the source material and I mess around with them whichever way I desire B).

I definitely don’t think it’s entirely fair to view Clausten as, like, Nesscas leftovers either, lol. Ultimately these characters are all very different in terms of stories, how they’re written etc, and both ships have very different qualities that make them loveable in their own right! Liking ships like Clausten has alot to do with how you view these characters— What do you gather their personalities are, how compatible would they be, etc? And the way I characterize Ninten and Claus, atleast in my head, make them very compatible. (Ninten being adventurous, outgoing, snarky, and boyish, and Claus being similar— but more reserved, and more careful as a product of his experiences.)

And finally— I really think them as people— not my own view of their personalities, but judging based on canon events— that the two are very similar, and could find solice in their similar experiences. I think the characters are weirdly connected, in a way, for starters— Claus, if you think about it, is Porky’s second Giegue/Giygas. A new puppet, a new ace, a new strength that he takes away the humanity of.

Ninten, being directly related to Giegue, who I can imagine feels somewhat responsible for the corruption of Giegue alongside what comes after the events of Mother 1 , is also connected in some way to Porky, and then Claus. This is basically an extended way of me saying “Their stories are linked in the overarching tale that is the Mother series”.

Claus’s feelings towards Ninten would be complicated initially, or atleast I think so— for his inability to defeat Giegue weirdly, inadvertently caused a chain reaction that lead to the events of Mother 3. (Giegue lives —> Invades Eagleland —> Porky Gets corrupted —> Giegue is then defeated by Ness and Co by going to the past but Porky Escapes —> Porky goes to the future, Mother 3 time —> The Plot Of Mother 3 Happens You Get It). The two’s distant but important connection in the story of the games leads to some extremely interesting food for thought, or at least I think so. How would Claus view the situation? How would Ninten feel after finding out what happened to Claus? How would the two bond over this weird experienced they’re both tied in?

And that is made all the more interesting to me when possibly viewing it in a romantic lense, or atleast something that could become romantic. It’s complicated and messy and there’s so much history behind the two, it’s interesting to think not only about how they’d meet and how they’d feel about eachother, but how they would handle romantic feelings— how a relationship between two very troubled people could work and be okay, and help them mutually heal.

All this is to say, they’re tied in the story and I think putting the two in a romantic relationship is very interesting. Also, it’s just fun :’)

(This post is a TOTAL mess, it’s midnight and I should be sleeping, but I got too excited to write about them hahaha. Thank you so much for the question! Also, I’ll make my next post a big lloyd appreciation, I like to draw him. Thanks again! X))

#clausten #nanathinks #sorry if none of this made sense agaga >.>

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Facts About the TWST Boys You Might Not Know: Octavinelle

So, it's been a minute since I made the other ones, but by the time I'm making this, the Heartslabyul part has been out for 3 days, and it's already the most popular post I've ever made, which is kinda insane. 92 fucking notes. Where did all the people come from? No clue.

Tbh, I'm glad people enjoyed the post (or just liked because it's a thing people do where they just like posts they think are cool? Which I don't understand, but whatever.), but I make these posts for very selfish reasons, so it's not super important. I just chose to include this because I find it insane so many people interacted with one of my posts.

Anyway-

SKIP DOWN BELOW THE CUT IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ A BORING MESSAGE!

Azul

He knows how to play the piano, and was in a band with both Jade and Floyd

He can write with all 10 of his limbs in his octo form (I figure that's pretty well known, but I still like this fact)

He's into coin collecting

His last name references a color like his first name, but also has grotto in it, referencing the grotto where Ariel in The Little Mermaid kept her human findings (that sounds weird, but it's technically true)

Jade

His job when there is a new influx of Octavinelle students is to gain info on them to both appeal to them and blackmail them. The info includes: home countries, hobbies, tastes, least favorite foods, worst subjects, and a catalogue of the students' public, private, and secret Magicam accounts (I do not want to be an Octavinelle student, holy fuck)

The little earing he wears (Floyd also wears, so I'm gonna put this fact in his as well) is made from sturgeon scales, because before they entered middle school, a sturgeon challenged them to a fight, and in return for being beaten by the twins, the sturgeon had to give them some scales (I'm pretty sure they might have also just taken the scales and said the sturgeon gave the scales to them)

The sturgeon scales mentioned above are apparently lucky charms in the Coral Sea

Floyd

His name is actually Welsh, and means "grey" or "grey-haired" (very interesting, actually)

As we all know, he has a nickname for most of the TWST cast. (I actually made a post about these nicknames a while ago, but I'm not linking it because going through my posts for that would be waaayyy too much of a hassle)

He says he's neither the older nor younger twin brother of Jade (which.... like... does it really matter? And since they hatch from an egg (I'm assuming because I just looked it up and morays do lay eggs), wouldn't they have a chance to hatch at the same time?)

His skin is very beautiful and well-moisturized according to Vil (Is Jade not the same or...?)

Floyd is very interested in shoes (I'm sure we knew that though)

Oh shit, a good fact right here. Floyd can perfectly recall anything he has seen or heard as long as it's interesting to him. If it's boring, he'll forget it immediately. (I actually never knew this wtf)

I wish the other dorms got as much love as Heartslabyul, but I feel like that last Floyd fact will make up for that for now.

Anyways, I'll get Scarabia done when I get it done I guess.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #octavinelle #octavinelle twst #octavinelle disney twst #octavinelle twisted wonderland #octavinelle disney twisted wonderland

[textfromthelookout]

Did you hear of the news?

I have. :(

Everyone else has their tributes so, here, a summary of my experience with Dragon Ball.

I was in fourth grade art class. A kid had the February 2005 issue of Shonen Jump, back when Shonen Jump was still physically printed here. I recognized Atem on the front cover because the Blockbuster around the corner from our house had DVDs (I think they were DVDs and not VHSs then since I distinctly remember it having a menu and special features) of some of the later episodes of Duelist Kingdom and my brother and I watched them on repeat. So I was like oh, hey, what's this? They make books of that stuff? I don't remember the conversation but the kid ended up giving me that issue, and I took it home with me.

There were a LOT of significant, groundwork things happening in that issue, now that I think about it. We were just beginning to see Sanji truly in action against Pearl. The Dark Tournament was in it's early stages still with Roto fucking around and finding out against Kurama. Sakura shears off her hair in a move that rearranged sexualities the world over. The reason Atem was on the cover was because Yu-Gi-Oh Millennium World was just debuting its first and second chapter. Bleach wasn't even serialized yet. And Dragon Ball, of course, was also there, about a hundred and fifty chapters ahead of everybody else.

Keep in mind that this was my first experience with manga, period. So my very first experience with Dragon Ball opened on this:

and ended on this:

Yeah. Truth be told, at the time Yu Yu Hakusho piqued my interest more than Dragon Ball (a guy fighting with plants? how creative!) but I never did forget these chapters. I thought the art style was so different from the others.

At some point after this, probably between several months and a year and a half, the TV happened to be on one evening when Toonami was airing Dragon Ball Z. Oh hey, I said, I recognize that art, I know those characters. So I hung around and watched some of episode 281. Two things about watching that episode stick with absolute crystal clarity in my mind to this day. Firstly: Buu choking Vegeta out with his arm freaked me the FUCK out as a child. I could not tell you why I had a fear reaction to it but hey, there you go. The second is this:

Specifically I remember 'You died once. If anything happens to you now, you won't exist anymore. There'll be nothing I can do to bring you back.' Not precisely word for word over the years, but Schemmel's tone of voice on this particular lineread. If I had to guess I'd say it was because at that point in my life, uh, death was kinda permanent? So wait, what do you mean died ONCE. Doesn't that apply to everyone?

This still wasn't enough to get me super invested in it though, it just didn't seem like something that would appeal to me that much. So a couple years go by, I don't think about it all that much, and then of course, TFS hits the scene and drops DBZ Abridged. So you know. As a shithead middle schooler with a shithead sense of humor I thought it was the best damn thing since sliced bread. (My biggest character flaw is that I still think a lot of Season 1 is genuinely funny)

And that was really the extent of my interaction with the franchise for the next several years. Say what you will about DBZA but they did manage to put it all together such that someone who had a nonexistent concept of what the original context was could grok it with not a lot of effort. Some time in high school, I think I was around 15, I decided to bite the bullet and read all the manga, as much to increase the funny factor of DBZA as sheerly for the sake of being able to say I had. Stick it to the other weebs, y'know. Now they can't say I didn't know anything about good anime. This was unfortunately at a time when all that was available online were dirty poor-quality scans and questionable translations, but read it I did. I went 'yep, that sure is about what I expected', and proceeded to get on with my life. GT came and went, I looked up and saw Battle of Gods coming out and went 'oh hey that's still a thing huh', kinda was peripherally aware of all the divisiveness of Super as it was happening, didn't really pay it much attention, just stuck to DBZA and quite a lot of wiki-ing.

And then, this time of year about three years ago now, in the middle of conversation with @prophecydungeon, Dragon Ball somehow came up. Something to do with 'Even though I'm not hugely into DBZ's story or whatever Toriyama does have some great character designs' (yes I was referring to Vegeta and Future Trunks at the time, no i will not stop being predictable, yes i am a parody of myself). They eventually brought up the DBS Broly movie and said, and i quote: 'that was a solid 1.5h of unbelievably fun and wacky animation'. Having seen the Gogeta vs Broly part of it on twitter and been like 'damn that animation's kinda off the hook actually, good for them good for them', my response was to be like. Oh word? I've got a spare hour and a half to kill, sure, fuck it, why not, time to watch DBS Broly.

I think that movie was precision crafted to hit me in the hyperfixation, if we're being honest. Opening on a solid 20 minutes of Lore and Worldbuilding and then having most of the rest of the runtime being mindless slobberknocker fun by way of some of the hardest animation flexes ever? I was done for.

In summation. I have been aware of Dragon Ball for a lot of my life, in that its presence was pervasive and enduring as I grew up. I may have been late to the game of actually wholeheartedly enjoying it, but enjoy it I do. Dragon Ball is the roots of a vast tree of anime, and in reading it I began to understand why that is. I respect it for that, and I love it for that. My current fixation may have shifted, but as far as time devoted to one individual thing goes... it took me a year and a half to watch my way through all of the anime and read all of the manga. ALL of it. So there's something good in there, I'd say.

#rip to a legend #text from the mod #tangentially related: i am not actually dead #it's just that between school and my job and the pirate brainrot #(the previous four months of which was feverishly consumed with a 16k word project) #i have had neither time nor impetus to make dragon ball funnies #there is also the fact that my stupid autism brain is still fuming over the website changes #that have fucked up the Aesthetique of the text posts and made them much more annoying to get in a usable form #thus adding steps to what was a simple and comfortable process #and aforementioned idiot dumb brain has not stopped pitching a bitch fit over the inconvenience. #i know it's a stupid hangup. believe me i am fully aware. but there is so little i can do about it #so i am sorry about my long absence. i really truly am. #especially to the asks that have been chillin in my inbox for all this time now #it's just that they're interesting questions that deserve me giving 100% of my brainpower to them ya feel #i want to devote appropriate attention to these little funnies and not phone it in or half ass it LOL

[razorblade180]

“Courting”

Charlotte:Miss Furina!!! I have a very important question to ask, off the record of course.

Furina:A question? I don’t see why not.

Charlotte:Are you being courted by world renowned traveler, Aether!?

Furina:*red* C-Courted!? I wouldn’t exactly say-

The journalist whips out a polaroid photo of Furina with a warm smile on her face as she sits across from Aether during a late candle lit dinner.

Furina:Oh my god this came out so well. You can even see the- how did you have this!? Where were you!?

Charlotte:I was posed as a waitress!

Furina:….

Charlotte:…For a job! Not for you. Heavens no. By the way, I wouldn’t eat there again. Back to the topic at hand, good for you.! It’s a cute look. Your smile is brighter.

Furina:You just have good lighting.

Charlotte:Ha! Oh Furina…candle light is agonizing for photography.

Furina:Sounds like a hit a sore spot. Anyways, if you’re asking I assume you’re more or less aware of everything I am when it comes to Aether and romance.

Charlotte:Of course! I actually brought it up to him around our first time meeting. Had proof and everything so I can ask him “why an open relationship”

Furina:…You’re kinda scary at times.

Charlotte:If you’re not intense in my field then people try to circle around the truth. Like you were about to do until I showed the photo. You can keep that by the way. *fiddles with camera*

Furina:If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a question as well.

Charlotte:Ooo okay! I’m all ears!

Furina:You’ve known him longer, engaged with him more often, and seem interested from where I stand; yet I’m the one dat- is involved with him.

Charlotte:Do you have commitment issues?

Furina:Let me finish! What I’m getting at is why aren’t you two item. I’ve the comedically sized document about the dynamic. As it stands now…if I was close minded or acted selfishly…

Charlotte:Ah, I see. It’s interesting to see your mind at work, but unfortunately you’re overthinking things waaaay too much. This isn’t chess game or battle of wits. It would pretty low to treat others feelings like that without thought. Neither him or I would be able to stand ourselves to put a person filled with in a position where they either find new love or be forced to deal with the fact there’s someone else. Kinda defeats the point of an open relationship.

Furina:That’s…I see your point.

Charlotte:If you want Aether romantically all to yourself when it comes to Fontainian’s then by all means exercise that right. He’s still going to be one of my closest friends and partner in journalism! Though to be clear, this isn’t me conceding in any way. I do hope you enjoy my company as much as I love yours! Also… *pulls out photo*

It’s nothing particularly special. Just a really good picture of Aether in the middle of fishing without a care in the world.

Charlotte: Let’s be honest, he has a very nice face. Just ask Lyney! He thinks so too.

Furina:*red* I mean I guess it has its appeal.

Charlotte:You can keep that one too. Anyways, I gotta go before no more Aquabuses run. My latest story has gotten popular so you know…I’ll be back in the city in like three weeks? Hopefully? Eh, we’ll see.

Furina:What did you expose!?

Charlotte:It’ll be front page tomorrow! Read all about it! Bye! *runs off*

Furina thought she was pretty good at reading people, especially her audience. Right now she had no clue if the conversation just now was casual chatter, a weird bargain, or even pleasant congratulations with a side of flirting? She only knew what she’s known from the beginning. Charlotte is a really interesting, kind person who takes phenomenal photos.

Furina:…(I wonder if he knows that this photo was taken?)

xxxxx

Aether:I was fishing alone.

Furina:For the love of- how strong is that lens!? By the way…would you consider us…courting or something? *red*

Aether:

Aether: You literally made out with me a few days ago. Grabbed my scarf, and smooched my face. We spend time together consistently.

Furina:*nods slowly* You bring up a valid point.

Aether:A valid point!? *shows hickey*

Furina:Okay, several points! Wrap your scarf back up before someone sees!

Aether:Breaking news, crystal pure celebrity actually filters her murky mind.

Furina:I want my kisses back!

#genshin impact #gi aether #gi charlotte #gi furina