#I'm very very excited about this project I just really need to pull through

[omaano]

Instead of leaving a comment on a fic like a decent human being, I decided that it was a good idea to set myself up for an art project that is 50% landscape and fabric and colours I rarely-if-ever get to use oops X"D

On an unrelated note, did you know that @brightmouth 's Lessons in Idle Ecstasies is fucking great?? (All her writing is, really, I just have so much reading I need to catch up on, I've been too busy trying to figure out how to paint rocks and mountains and things I thought I knew how to paint ^^; )

#dincobb #cobb vanth #wip #marshmando #din x cobb #my art #landscape #I was thinking about posting this in the first place because well it's not much yet #like 1/4 of the whole thing if I can still count and my concept sketches are to be trusted but I'm so excited about this okay?? #this is all very new territory for me as an artist #and I picked a small scene but I LOVE dream sequences and it was RED okay? I have a thing for that #plus i didn't know if I don't share it now when would I because I have zero idea still about the panel that brings Din in #and I'm pulling the biggest blank there I ever had so.... WIP for now #I always do this decide to make some fanart before I leave a comment on my fave fics and then maybe deliver?? #ahem anyway I hope it's okay #I'm very very excited about this project I just really need to pull through #these are pics 2-4-5 I think in the current lineup #out of 12+1 but goddamnit Cobb is fighting me big time #the mandalorian #star wars #the mandalorian fanart #lessons in idle ecstasies

[tkingfisher]

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ A New Brother?!

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic (ft. my baby boy tyson) warning: i wanna say none but i dont trust myself, language probs author's note: okay okay so this one was the first winner!! the rest will follow in order with how many votes they got and such. but first LETS PUT A LITTLE RESPECT ON TYSONS NAME YALL THAT'S MY SON OF POSEIDON FR FR HES JUST A LITTLE GUY I CANT-

“dude! dude! dude!” y/n called as she ran from the big house toward percy, who was sitting on the steps outside of cabin three with annabeth, both of them looking up at her yells.

“bro! bro! bro!” percy called back with a laugh, sharing a look with annabeth, who shook her head at the two siblings as she went back to her architectural sketches for something.

“i’ve got news!” y/n cheers, standing before percy with her hands pulled up to her chest and an unbeatable smile on her lips. percy motioned for her to go on, looking at her suspiciously.

“my favorite brother will be joining us at camp for the next three days,” y/n announced, proudly, causing percy to jump up to his feet too.

“no way! what?” he cheered, the two of them soon jumping in a circle. annabeth laughed at them, getting joy from their joy. leo had walked over at some point, looking at the children of poseidon with concern. annabeth waved him over to sit next to her, giving them the perfect view of the excited teens.

“what did i miss?” leo questioned, unable to take his eyes off the pair but turning his head towards annabeth.

“tyson, their brother, is coming to stay at camp for a few days. they don’t see him very often because he works with the cyclops with their father, so they tend to get a bit excited,” annabeth explained with a shrug. leo nodded, having already been told about tyson by y/n. she loved to rave about him, proudly showing the picture of him she kept in her cabin at any needed moment.

“i call dibs on snack duty! you didn’t even get anything good last time,” y/n insisted, pointing at percy as they sat down next to their respective significant others, both a little out of breath and sweaty, but smiling nonetheless.

“whatever. tyson liked those pickle chips,” percy huffed, jokingly rolling his eyes.

“yeah, but i did not like the smell of your guys' breath,” y/n replied, scrunching her face up, which earned her a laugh.

“okay, okay, fair. so i'm on movie duty then?” percy questioned and y/n nodded.

“yes, cause tyson’s on fort duty, duh,” answered y/n before she spun in leo’s arms and looked up at him, who looked down at her with a raised brow and a smile

“hi, hey,” she rapidly shot out before pressing her lips against his and promptly pulling back.

“gross!” percy called, earning him an elbow against his rib from annabeth.

“please, i was tortured by you two for like five summers, i’ve earned my dues,” y/n replied, squinting at the two with a glare.

“fair enough.”

tyson showed up a few days later, a large dopey smile on his face as he waved the hippocampus that gave him a ride away. y/n and percy were, obviously, the first to greet him and get him settled in their cabin. most of the older campers knew tyson or at least knew of him, so they weren’t really too phased by the cyclops being at camp. it was the younger ones who took a little more time, but with how sweet tyson was it really wasn’t a problem. leo had gotten caught up in the forges, annabeth having asked him if he could roadtest something for her, which sent him down a rabbit hole of trying to figure it out.

“leo?!” y/n’s voice called through the forge, leo’s eyes moving from the twisted metal in front of him to the girl standing in the doorway of the forge, along with a bulkier and taller figure.

“hey, honey. give me a minute, yeah?” he called as both of his hands were occupied. he didn’t hear anything in response but he trusted that she was probably just showing tyson some of the new projects or something like that. after a bit, leo walked up, shoving his goggles up and dusting his hands off on his once white shirt.

“leo, this is tyson, my brother. tyson, this is leo, my boyfriend,” y/n introduced, gesturing between the two. leo held his hand out to the cyclops, smiling widely.

“hey, man, nice to meet you. y/ns, here, loves to rave about you,” mused leo before he was promptly pulled into a bone crushing huge.

“right, sorry, tyson’s a hugger,” y/n winced, forgetting to mention that to leo, who groaned as he was let go. he shot a look at the girl, who giggled quietly behind her hand.

“a new brother! very exciting, sister, and he can build things!” tyson cheered, happily nodding his head. leo blushed at the insinuation and y/n coughed, opening her mouth to correct him.

“oh, tyson, he’s not- we’re not- he’s just my boyfriend. when…when we get married, he’d be your brother,” y/n tried to explain, her voice catching on the word ‘when.’ then she shared a look with leo, which just solidified her ‘when’ and not ‘if.’

“oh,” tyson frowned, his eyebrows furrowing and leo had a feeling tears would be next.

“y/n mentioned you work in forges, right? come on, i’ll show you what i’m working on, could use some help,” leo redirected, easily, nodding his head back towards the forges. tyson’s eye lit up and he looked over at y/n for permission, but she was looking at leo with a melty and soft look in her eyes.

"sister?"

“hmm? oh, yeah, you’re good, tyson. just bring him back to percy and i before dinner, okay, lee?” y/n asked and leo gave her a salute, which tyson mimicked with a little laugh. y/n watched them go, her heart full of love and a blinding smile on her face.

right before dinner, percy and y/n were making their way towards the forge to pick up tyson, but tyson came running out of the forge in excitement, something clasped safety in his large hands. the siblings shared a look as leo trailed after him.

“percy! y/n! look!” he proudly cheered, stopping before the two and unfurling his hands to reveal a small metallic horse sculpture. he squealed in excitement on seeing it again.

“wow! super cool, tyson!” percy cheered, clapping the cyclops on the back.

“you make that yourself or did leo?” y/n jumped in, beaming a smile between her boyfriend and little brother.

"oh, all tyson. i only helped here and there," leo mused, holding his hands up with a wide smile and a wink to you and percy.

"yup. all me," tyson echoed, clearly having grown fond of leo in the past few hours.

"good job, buddy! wanna go show annie?" percy offered with a wide smirk, which had tyson nodding his head and following after his brother. you stayed behind with leo, watching your siblings go as leo wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder.

"thank you. for hanging out with him today," you whispered and you could feel leo shrug as he pressed a kiss to your shirt clad shoulder.

"course. he's a good guy and handy in the forges. being fireproof tends to be helpful," leo replied and you giggled, turning to make eye contact with him.

"and you'd know all about that, huh?" you taunted and leo rolled his eyes, releasing his hands from you, which just caused you to laugh harder.

"whatever. and to think, i made you a present!" huffed the son of hephaestus, turning his nose up at the girl.

"ooo, what'd ya make?" she questioned, poking at his side with her fingers.

"no. mean girlfriend's don't get gifts," added leo, trying to dodge the attack of her fingers the best he could.

"c'mon, don't be that way, pretty boy," you pouted, batting your eyes at him in a way that had leo instantly folding, reaching back into his tool belt with a tiny shake of his head.

"that's an abuse of power," he stated before presenting you with a metal lily, delicately sculpted and stretched out of metal. and you were instantly swooning, gently caressing it with your fingers before darting your wide eyes up to him.

"only the longest lasting flowers for my girl," leo added, winking with a smirk. you rolled your eyes but clutched the flower to your chest like it was your child.

"y/n! stop flirting and come help with the snacks!" percy called, giving you a pointed look and setting a hand against his hip like a mother. you huffed at him, sticking your tongue out before turning to leo and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"you're the sweetest boy, valdez," you whispered to the skin of his cheek before racing off, shouts that you'll make it to cabin three first, which sent both of your brothers barreling after you. leo watched this with a smile and a blush slowly rising to where your lips had been.

yeah, he was going to marry this girl. tyson'd throw a fit if he didn't. and he just couldn't have that, could he?

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

[punkshort]

weekend getaway

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: Joel whisks you away for a surprise Valentine's Day weekend.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, fingering, size kink (maybe? Idk it's mentioned), soft!joel, some very mild allusions to pregnancy, oral (m receiving), panty ripping, cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type couple so don't look at me

WC: 9.2K

Series Masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

tagging @morallyinept for your V-Day list consideration

"Any big plans for Valentine's Day?" your project supervisor, Kelly, asked over your Zoom call. You glanced at the clock on your wall - 4:30. Why did she always feel the need to ask questions and prolong a meeting right at the end of the day? And on a Friday, no less.

You anxiously jiggled your foot under your desk as you listened to the rest of the group detail their weekend plans with loved ones. When it was your turn, you tapped your spacebar to unmute.

"I'm going to dinner with my boyfriend and his daughter tonight," you said quickly, wanting the meeting to end so you could go get ready. As if on cue, you heard a key sliding into your front door and Joel stepped through, shooting you a cheesy grin. He was about to walk over and give you a kiss, but you held your hand up and discreetly pointed to your monitor, indicating you were still on a video call.

He nodded and instead went into your kitchen and opened up the fridge. You frowned when you realized he was still in jeans and a T-shirt.

"Why aren't you dressed? Where's Sarah?" you asked when he got a little closer, ignoring your co-worker who was rambling on about her weekend plans.

He just shrugged and winked before heading to your couch, not saying a word.

Your call went on for another fifteen minutes while you stared at the back of Joel's head as he flicked through the channels on your TV. What was going on?

"Are we not doing dinner tonight?" you asked as you slid your headset off and powered down your computer.

"We are, but it'll have to be on the road," he said casually, barely glancing backwards over the couch.

"The road?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side as you came over to stand next to the couch. He nodded and turned off the TV to finally look at you with a flicker of playfulness in his eyes.

"I'm takin' you away for the weekend," he said, grinning when your face lit up.

"What?" you exclaimed in disbelief. "I thought-"

"It was just to throw you off, I never made plans for dinner tonight. Tommy's watchin' Sarah all weekend, so it's just me and you," he said, pushing himself off the couch so he could wrap his arms around you. You tilted your chin up, brushing your lips over his softly as your arms snaked around his waist.

"I like the sound of that," you murmured, giving him another kiss and feeling his facial hair tickle your cheek when his lips turned up into a smirk.

"Better go pack a bag," he said, pulling away and tapping your ass, urging you towards your bedroom. You let out a squeak of excitement as you trotted into your room and grabbing a duffel bag, you began to pack your toiletries.

"Bring a dress," he said, leaning against your doorframe, watching you maneuver in and out of your bathroom, your hands filled.

"What kind of dress?" you asked.

"The red one. The one you wore to Sarah's recital."

"That one? But I have so many I haven't even worn yet," you said, scrunching your nose as you came back into the room, heading towards your closet.

"Yeah, but I really like that one," he said, coming up behind you, his hand finding a home on your hip as you shuffled through your clothes. You found it pushed to the back of your closet and pulled the dress out, showing it to him with your eyebrow raised and he nodded his approval.

"What else do you want me to wear?" you asked him.

"You know if it were up to me, it would be nothin'," he teased, and you giggled.

"Well, I hope you can make an exception, otherwise you're going to hate your Valentine's gift."

He groaned and felt himself stir below his waist when he realized what you meant.

"Hurry up and pack. We got a two hour drive and if you keep talkin' like that, we ain't gonna make it," he said, sauntering out of your bedroom, shaking his head.

You had been to Houston a few times in the past, but only ever with your family for shopping trips or to visit your aunt and uncle who lived out that way. But visiting the city with Joel felt like you were seeing it for the very first time. He always had a way of making something ordinary feel special.

Joel had booked two nights at The Houstonian Hotel, and when you first walked into the lobby, your jaw dropped. It was absolutely stunning and unlike any hotel you've ever stayed in before. The floors appeared to be all original hardwood, and the walls were designed to match: a dark paneling with a delicate wainscotting decorating the wood from floor to ceiling. Joel led you towards the front desk to check in, but your eyes were glued to the massive stone fireplace in the center of the room surrounded by cozy looking couches and chairs in front of the roaring fire. Your head tilted up to admire the exposed wooden beams and sparkling chandeliers when Joel got your attention.

"Did you want access to the gym or tennis court?" he asked again, pleased at how impressed you seemed to be with the hotel he chose.

"Huh? Oh, no thank you," you said, shaking your head and giving the man behind the front desk a smile.

"Joel, this place is incredible," you whispered, wrapping your hand around his bicep as you waited for the elevator. "You didn't have to go through so much trouble. I would have slept in your truck if it meant I got to spend time with you."

He grinned as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"Yeah, but my truck doesn't have a hot tub or enormous bathtub, and I intend on getting you in both before the weekend's through."

You felt your cheeks warm as you giggled, glancing up at the numbers above the door, eager to see your room.

"Oh my god, this place is so beautiful," you exclaimed when Joel swung open the door to your room and ushered you inside. The wallpaper was patterned with broad vertical stripes in a shimmery silver color that matched the comforter and sheets on the king sized bed in the middle of the room, with pink and red rose petals scattered across the fabric. Opposite the bed was a flat screen TV mounted to the wall with a small chest of drawers right below and a dozen perfect, red roses in a vase on top. You were about to hurry over to the window and check out the view when Joel flicked the lights on in the bathroom, catching your attention and making you gasp.

The room was huge. There was the enormous, freestanding bathtub Joel promised, right in front of a floor length tinted window. Next to the tub was a spacious shower encased in glass, and behind you were two sinks and a mirror almost as big as the wall.

"Wow," was all you could say, your eyes still taking in the room, noticing a pink orchid on the sink and fern in the corner for the first time.

"You like it?" he asked softly, watching you closely. You swiveled around to look at him, your eyes still wide with shock.

"I love it," you said, still a little breathless. He grinned and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you.

"Good. Wanted to make our first Valentine's Day special," he murmured before leaning down slightly to press his lips gently against yours.

"Well, you succeeded because I don't think I want to leave this room all weekend," you whispered, bringing your hands up to grip the sides of his head for another kiss.

"Don't tempt me. I'll cancel the dinner reservation I made for tomorrow without thinkin' twice," he said, grinning against your mouth as you continued to pepper his face with kisses.

"So you're saying we don't have any plans tonight?" you asked suggestively, dragging your mouth down his prickly jaw, biting at his skin lightly as you went. His grip around you tightened.

"Just thought we could relax, knew we'd be gettin' in kinda late," he murmured, his eyes sliding shut when your mouth made its way to his neck, never growing tired of the way you made him feel.

"I know a great way to relax," you replied, your fingers inching up his chest as you continued to suck and bite your way down the column of his throat. You could feel his exhale tickling the top of your head, his breath quickening as your hands dropped down under the hem of his shirt. "Why don't we take that bath you mentioned?"

"Yes," he whispered, eyes still closed and leaning into your touch.

"Tell you what," you sighed, your mouth barely leaving his skin. "You go check in with Sarah, and I'll get the tub ready."

"Okay," he said softly as if he were in a trance. Nobody has ever made him weak in the knees the way you do, and he loved it.

Leaving Joel in the bedroom to call Sarah, you turned the water on, dipping your fingers under the stream until you found the perfect temperature, then turned your attention to the amenities that were left on the sink. Picking up each little bottle, you read the descriptions until you found bubble bath. Twisting open the cap, you sniffed the pleasant floral scent before dumping it into the water and swirling it around, trying to encourage the bubbles to form. Once you thought there was enough water, you turned off the faucet, allowing you to hear the end of Joel's conversation in the next room. You thought you heard him asking Sarah about an action movie you assumed she and Tommy were watching as you stripped down and slipped into the water, leaning back against the side and closing your eyes with a heavy sigh. The warmth combined with the heavenly scent soothed your muscles almost immediately.

This was absolutely perfect. You were constantly amazed by the way Joel treated you, but this weekend might take the cake.

You heard a noise so you opened your eyes, then grinned when you found Joel leaning up against the doorframe, gazing at you from across the room.

"Sorry, I got started without you," you teased, and although the bubbles hid your body from the neck down, the way he looked at you made you feel like he could see everything.

"This's gotta be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, still standing in the doorway. Then his eyes lit up when an idea occurred to him. "Can I take a picture?"

"What?" you giggled, taken aback by his request.

"You can't see anythin'," he assured you, stepping into the room. "I just wanna remember you exactly the way you are, right now."

"Okay..." you agreed hesitantly, watching as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then looked up to give him a smile. He clicked his tongue and lowered the phone a bit so he could look at you.

"I want a real smile," he said, and you snorted.

"That is my real smile."

"Nah, that's your polite smile. I want the real thing," he told you. You gave him your polite smile again, but this time he kept his phone up, knowing how to draw out what he was looking for.

"I love you, baby."

You felt the warmth in your cheeks and your smile stretch wide across your face. Your eyes shyly dropped down to look at the water and then you heard the shutter click on his phone.

"That's the one," he said proudly, looking at it quickly before setting his phone on the sink.

"Good. Now get in here."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, and hastily undid his belt, watching greedily as he peeled off his clothes, one by one. You noticed with pride he was already having a reaction to you and he hadn't even seen you naked yet.

He stepped into the water with a hiss, then slipped his whole body underneath the bubbles, resting against the other end of the tub with a smile.

"Feels good," he mumbled.

"Not too girly?" you asked, scooting forward and scooping up some bubbles with your hands, then reached out to rub them into his beard, making him chuckle.

"Not at all," he said, still smiling as the bubbles you planted on his cheeks began to drip down into the water. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before he spread his legs under the water and beckoned you forward with his hands.

"C'mere."

You nimbly turned around so you were facing the same direction, then leaned back, resting flat against his chest. His hands squeezed your shoulders gently and then slid down your arms, dipping below the water. You hummed and rested the back of your head against his shoulder. His fingers danced across your skin underneath the bubbles, calloused palms dragging over your soft stomach slowly, and by now, the evidence of his arousal was pressing firmly into your lower back.

"You're so beautiful, d'you know that?" he whispered in your ear. His knees tucked underneath your legs, parting them and spreading them wide, holding them open underneath the water. Your pulse began to thrum faster when you realized what he was doing.

"Relax," he reminded you, feeling you tense up as his hand drifted further down. You exhaled shakily and closed your eyes, letting your muscles go lax as his hands massaged your hips, slowly making their way between your legs.

You gasped softly when two of his fingers found your clit. He began to draw slow, deliberate circles while his other hand snuck up and massaged your breast. His mouth left kisses all down the side of your neck as his fingers steadily worked just below the surface, building you up slowly in only the way he knew how.

"I love you," you whispered, eyes still closed but brows pinched and jaw slack as your breathing began to devolve into short pants. You were fairly certain you repeated it a number of times, I love you, I love you, but you were too lost, his fingers knowing what you needed better than your own ever could.

He might have said it back, you couldn't remember. His fingers picked up the pace between your legs while his other hand rolled your nipple expertly between his thumb and forefinger, and you found yourself gripping the side of the tub frantically as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, blinding you and making you see stars somehow at the same time.

"So pretty... that's my girl... love how you say my name when you come," he mumbled.

You didn't even realize you were saying it, but you believed him.

"Oh, my god," you gasped, finally opening your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. His fingers slowed, then stilled, then gently pulled away, causing you to shudder, even though you were surrounded by so much warmth.

Once you managed to come back down to earth, you turned your head to the side, your lips latching onto his. He immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue delving inside your mouth, licking past your teeth urgently. His hand rose up, the splashing of water the only sound in the room, and gently gripped your chin, index finger and thumb pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks, prying your mouth open so he could feast.

You dropped your hand below the bubbles, your tongues still dancing, the grip on your jaw still firm and wet. Lifting your hips so your fingers could search underneath, you lined his throbbing length against your opening before slowly easing down.

The kiss stalled, open mouths hovering over the other as you each focused intently on him entering you, and only when you finally were able to accommodate his size and take him all did you both sigh with relief.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he whined as his fingers released their grip on your jaw. Your head fell limply against his shoulder but still turned to the side so you could look at him. "How are- shit," he cursed, his hips slowing down when water splashed over the side of the tub. "How are you still so tight? Goddamn," he groaned.

Your arm snaked up out of the water, reaching behind you, hand getting lost in his curls and pulling him down for a sloppy kiss as his hips rocked into you steadily from behind. You had no idea how he did it, but every time with him felt like the first time, and it always took your breath away.

"'Cause you're so big," you whispered against his mouth, knowing that answer would spark something in him. And you were right. His eyes flashed excitedly at the compliment and his hips moved faster, making you moan.

"Yeah?" he pressed, urging you to continue as he panted against your cheek. "Biggest you've ever had?"

"Yes," you admitted quickly, nodding your head, mouth agape as he nudged against that spot inside you that always made you come undone. "Oh god, Joel," you whimpered, trying to stave off your orgasm, knowing it was coming too soon after your first one.

Your legs began to shake as his knees pinned them to the sides of the tub, keeping you spread wide open as he thrusted into you, water sloshing over the sides and splashing your faces, but neither of you cared.

"Need you to come," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm close, baby, need you to come. Can you- fuck, can you come for me?"

"Yeah," you whined, then gasped when his hand unexpectedly dove under the water to find your clit again. It took no time at all for him to draw another orgasm from you, this one much faster than the first, but somehow even more powerful. When you clenched around him and cried out his name, fingers slipping through his wet hair, he couldn't hold back any longer. Your body sagged against him as he thrusted slow, long strokes, groaning as he came deep inside you, pulling your hips against him roughly until his body stilled and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Shit," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into your hair. He began to soften inside you but he wasn't ready to move just yet. Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close against his chest until the water began to cool and he felt goosebumps prickle your skin.

"Let's get you to bed," he said, and you nodded sleepily.

He drained the tub and wrapped you in one of the two robes that hung on the back of the door, taking the other for himself before pulling the comforter back, disregarding the rose petals on the bed.

You slid underneath the soft, cool sheets, still wrapped in the fuzzy robe, completely uninterested in unpacking and finding pajamas. Joel curled up behind you, his arm snaking around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

As he felt your breath deepen and slow, he was confident that he had never been more content in his entire life than he was in that moment.

The next morning was lazy and slow. For once, neither of you felt compelled to start the day. There was no urgency about running errands or getting to work or keeping up with Sarah and her busy schedule. When you woke, after murmuring Happy Valentine's Day against each other's mouths between kisses, you sleepily discussed options for breakfast, both of you scrolling on your phones, scanning menus for nearby cafes before ultimately deciding on room service just so you could lounge in bed a bit longer.

Sitting perched on top of the crumpled comforter, rose petals still haphazardly scattered about, you put your trays in the middle of the bed, picking off of each other's plates and taking a quick picture of the heart shaped pancakes before devouring them. He reached forward to collect some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth with his thumb and you fed him a strawberry, giggling when he gently snagged your finger tip with his teeth to suck the juices that stained your skin.

"Give me a real smile," you teased him, holding your phone in front of your face and biting back a laugh at how silly he looked, still clad in the plush hotel robe, revealing a generous amount of his tanned chest, with a pile of rose petals balancing on top of his messy curls.

After you snapped a couple pictures, he lunged forward and yanked your phone from your grasp, rose petals fluttering down around you as you giggled. He pinned you into the bed and smothered you with kisses as you writhed underneath him, acting like you wanted to get away but you couldn't imagine anywhere else you'd rather be. Rolling off to the side, he held your phone up above your faces and started taking pictures: a blurry, off-centered one, one where you were both smiling and kissing, another where you gently sunk your teeth onto his earlobe and he pretended to be in pain.

You couldn't have imagined a more perfect way to wake up on Valentine's Day.

"What are we doing today?" you asked him as you pulled on your sneakers once you both finally relented and decided you should at least see the city a little bit before you had to leave tomorrow.

"There's some great museums, thought you'd like to pick one. There's always the zoo or the aquarium. Or we can just walk 'round-"

"Museum sounds perfect," you told him, standing up on your tiptoes to give him what was likely the millionth kiss in the past twelve hours.

"Then I got us reservations at some fancy Italian spot two blocks over," he said, squinting down at his phone while he walked, leading you to the elevator. "Here's all the museums downtown, pick the best one," he said, handing you his phone and pressing the button for the elevator.

"The best one?" you repeated with a laugh.

"Y'know what I mean," he smirked, stepping forward into the elevator and pushing the lobby button.

You decided on the science museum, thinking maybe you could find Sarah a cool souvenir while you were there. She had recently taken an interest in Ancient Egypt and you noticed they had an exhibition on the topic.

Although the museum was a ways away from your hotel and the air was frigid, you still chose to walk. Hand in hand, you strolled together down the street, admiring the tall buildings and bridges in the distance.

When you walked past a coffee shop, Joel ushered you both inside to warm up and get some hot drinks to hold before you reached the museum. When the barista asked what you wanted, Joel answered for you, telling him your favorite drink, rattling it off from memory as if it were his phone number, and you smiled.

You had each finished your drinks right before reaching the museum. Tossing your empty cup into a nearby garbage can, you dropped your hand to your side, fingers seeking his out of habit, always looking for a reason to touch him. As you watched him gaze up at the enormous dinosaur skeleton that greeted you in the front lobby, you wondered how on earth you got so lucky. With so many people in the world, how was it possible you found him? Was it fate? Destiny? But at the same time, you wondered why it took so long to find each other. You each could have saved yourselves so much pain with past lovers, but maybe you both needed to feel that pain in order to fully appreciate what you have now.

"Sarah's going to be so jealous she missed this," you murmured as you slowly strolled through an exhibition about space.

Joel tried to pay attention to the endless stars and galaxies above your heads, but the dim overhead lighting accentuating your perfect features kept drawing his gaze.

Your hands linked together loosely, he followed you around the dark room, watching as your eyes sparkled and the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile when you saw something especially beautiful. He glanced around the nearly empty exhibition before tugging on your hand, spinning you around in surprise and pulling you against his chest. His free hand came up to pinch your chin, tipping your face up to his and pressing his lips gently against yours.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know," you replied with a teasing grin.

He watched as you entered the Ancient Egypt exhibition, dropping his hand so you could pull out your phone and take pictures. You smiled down at the screen, your thumbs tapping away quickly, far quicker than he ever could, as you texted his daughter some pictures with a message that included the words we miss you, happy Valentine's Day, kiddo.

"Which one should we get her?" you asked him in the gift shop, turning around to hold up two books. He took his time examining each one while thinking about how sweet you always were with Sarah. She never told him outright, but he could tell she looked up to you, and while he and Tommy did their best to give Sarah everything she ever needed after her mom abandoned them, he always knew he couldn't give her everything, no matter how hard he tried. But seeing his daughter with you over the past few months, he could already tell you were giving her something she always craved: a strong, warm, maternal presence in her life.

"This one," he said finally, putting the other book back on the shelf.

"I hope you don't mind if I wait til after dinner to give you your gift," you told him, walking down the street together, one hand linked with his, the other gripping the plastic bag that carried Sarah's book.

He suddenly remembered what you alluded to while you were packing and he turned to you with great interest.

"Can I get a hint?"

You giggled, your cheeks beginning to warm even though the air was cold.

"It matches the dress you picked out for me."

He groaned, mentally trying to divert the rush of blood literally anywhere else other than between his legs.

When you got ready for dinner that evening, Joel leaving you to your own devices in the luxurious bathroom, you dug through your duffel bag, fingertips searching for the small, black bag you had hidden the bright red lingerie in. Double checking the door was locked, you pulled out the delicate material, rubbing the small roses that adorned the fabric between the pads of your fingers. Stripping down, you carefully tugged the underwear over each leg, your hips swaying side to side until the lace covered your lower half. You gave the string bikini strap a little snap before pulling the matching bra on, clasping it and adjusting the straps before looking in the mirror.

He would be able to see right through the lace, and the thought of his reaction thrilled you.

You slipped into the red dress he picked out and you checked your hair and makeup once more before putting on a pair of heels you hadn't worn in months that you knew would make your calves ache later, but it would be worth it.

Stepping out of the bathroom quietly, you managed to get a glimpse of him before he heard you as he was bent over the dresser, tilting his head slightly to check his hair in the mirror and you thought you'd never seen him look more handsome. He caught your eye in the reflection and smirked before turning around, dragging his gaze up and down your body appreciatively before stepping towards you and enveloping you in his arms.

"You look perfect," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at the side of your neck, and if it weren't for the lipstick you had just applied moments ago, you would have left your own bites on his skin.

"Just gotta put on my tie, then we can go," he said, pulling back, but you grabbed his hand.

"I like it better without," you told him, your fingers coming up to fix the collar of his crisp white dress shirt, then falling to undo the top two buttons, your finger nail scraping gently at the newly exposed skin before running your hands down his shoulders and picking off a small piece of lint from his black blazer.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk.

Before leaving the room, he pulled out his phone and flipped the camera so he could take a selfie, standing behind you with one arm around your waist, his chin nuzzled against your neck, he murmured I love you and once you flashed that real smile of yours, he quickly snapped the picture.

"This place is beautiful," you said, fairly certain you had said it at least three times now, but it was true. The lighting was dim, creating a soft, intimate atmosphere that invited hushed conversations and quick kisses amongst the candlelight.

"Glad you like it," Joel replied, his arm stretching across the white linen tablecloth, fingers tangling with yours next to your empty plates. Your waiter came by silently to scoop up the dirty dishes and refill your wine, but you had hardly noticed. The way the candlelight danced across his face kept you so entranced that you had to force yourself to look away or else you might find yourself sitting on his lap in front of the whole restaurant.

His thumb stroked your knuckles as you glanced around, trying to clear your head. It appeared the whole place was filled with couples just like you: happy and madly in love. You smiled to yourself when you saw an older couple feeding each other tiramisu, your eyes continuing to drift across the room until they stopped on a beautiful woman with warm, brown skin and hair who happened to be staring right at you. When your eyes met hers, she quickly looked away, turning her head back to her date.

"You know why I asked you to wear that dress?"

Joel's voice brought you back to the present. You turned back to him with a smile and shook your head.

"The night you wore that was the night I realized I was in love with you," he said, eyes dropping shyly to the table for a moment before meeting yours again.

"Sarah's recital?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Yep," he said, leaning forward a bit more. "Knew that night I was a goner."

You giggled and he smiled, about to tell you how much he loved your laugh, but you spoke first.

"For me, it was the afternoon I helped you wrap presents," you said, feeling your cheeks warm from both the wine and your admission. Your eyes flicked around the restaurant and found that same woman looking at you again, but this time she didn't look away. It was dark and difficult to see, but you thought she looked familiar.

"Ah, so sad, pathetic men do it for you?" he asked, raising a playful eyebrow, and you laughed.

"Maybe," you said, your eyes drifting over to the woman again, who was now involved in what appeared to be a serious conversation with her date.

"Don't make it obvious, but does that woman in the black dress look familiar to you? I can't place her and she keeps looking over here," you said, tilting your head to the side so he knew what direction to look. He sat back in his chair and let his gaze slowly and casually drag around the room before he stopped on the woman in question.

Joel didn't blink. He forgot how to breathe. His grip on your fingers tightened while his throat began to squeeze shut, unable to look away. It was like he was seeing a ghost, and in a way, he was.

"Joel?" he heard you say, but your voice sounded so far away.

"Uh," he stammered, unable to form any coherent sentence.

"Are you okay? You look pale," you said, sounding concerned, and he finally tore his eyes away so he could look at you.

"That's..." he paused and took a big sip of wine. "That's Sarah's mom."

"What?!" you whispered, eyes wide as you tried your hardest not to look at her again. Now you knew why she looked so familiar: you had seen an old picture of her and Joel on Facebook when you first started dating.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"I-I don't know," he said, letting go of your hand so he could rub his eyes. "Long time. Years. I had no idea she was even still in the damn state."

"Do you want to go? Maybe we should go," you said, lifting your arm to catch your waiter's attention, but he stopped you.

"No. We ain't leavin'. This is our night, I'm not gonna let her ruin it."

"She can't ruin it," you said, locking eyes with him. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her use her napkin and stand up, heading in your direction.

"Okay, she's coming over here."

"What?" he whispered, seized with panic.

"It's fine. You're fine, Joel," you said firmly. He nodded and swallowed, focusing on your voice to keep him grounded. When she approached your table, you looked up and forced a smile.

"Hi, I'm Char," she said with a smile of her own, reaching out her long, thin arm to shake your hand. Joel stiffened in his chair, his muscles feeling so tight it was starting to hurt.

"Hi," you replied, taking her hand and giving her your name before shifting your nervous smile in Joel's direction.

She looked at Joel as well, giving him an awkward wave and he tried to smile, he really did, but he felt frozen.

"Can we talk?" he thought he heard her ask. He shook his head, absolutely not, but your hand reached out for his and gave him a gentle squeeze, grounding him once again.

"It's okay, go ahead," you told him. His eyes shifted between the two of you, completely at a loss. You gave him a warm smile, a real smile, and nodded encouragingly.

"Five minutes," he said, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or his ex, but it didn't matter.

Begrudgingly, he stood, dropping his napkin on his chair and shooting you one more glance before he followed Char out of the dining room and into the more brightly lit hallway that led to the hostess stand and front door. She turned to look at him, mouth opening and closing, struggling to find the right words.

"You look good, Joel," she said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You too."

She chewed her lower lip and glanced around, and Joel could feel his patience already running thin.

"What do you want, Char?" he asked, wanting the question to come off angry but he just ended up sounding tired.

"I wanted to... I don't know. Apologize," she said, dragging her eyes back up to him. "I shouldn't have left you like that. It was wrong."

"Us," Joel corrected her, raising his eyebrows. "You left us."

"Yeah, of course," she said with a nod. "You know what I mean."

Joel bit his tongue and glanced down at his shoes, wishing nothing more than for this conversation to end so he could be with you again and forget this ever happened.

"You seem happy. Your girlfriend is pretty, how long have you been together?"

"Few months," he said, looking back up at Char once again. "I am happy. She makes me happy."

"Good. That's good..." she replied, trailing off and looking down at her hands. Splaying her fingers, she held them up, showing him her ring. "I'm married. That's my husband in there," she said, the word husband getting caught in her throat. "We're, uh... we're expecting," she added, dropping her hand to rest on her stomach. "Just found out a few weeks ago."

"Oh," Joel said, blinking in disbelief. "Congrats."

"Thanks," she said with a small smile. "How's work? How's Tommy?"

"How's-" he scoffed and rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, growing agitated. "How about how's Sarah? Your daughter?"

Char took a deep breath, falling silent.

"She's doin' great, by the way," Joel continued, his jaw clenching. "She's on the honor roll, got a real talent for the violin and she's already lookin' at colleges. She's kind and honest and smart-"

"Okay, Joel, message received," she replied, holding up her hands in defeat. "I'm not allowed to move on, but you are."

"She's your fuckin' kid, Char," Joel bit back. "You don't move on from your kid."

"That's not what I said, stop putting words in my mouth!"

"You didn't need to," he said, glancing down at her stomach briefly. "Do you ever even think 'bout her? On her birthday, does she cross your mind at all? Is your baby gonna know they got a sister?"

Char's eyes filled with tears as she looked away guiltily.

"Y'know, I think I'm done here," he said, his voice suddenly growing calmer. "Thank you," he said, catching her eye. "I'm glad we talked. Cleared up a lot of questions."

He turned away and headed back into the dining room, back to you. Back to the woman who, in only three months, had treated his daughter with more love than her own mother.

You saw him approaching your table and you straightened up in your seat, trying to read his face. He sat down and gave you a smile, then reached his arms across the table to take both your hands.

"Everything okay?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, everythin's great," he said, staring deep into your eyes, still smiling. You gave him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. "I mean it. That-" he nodded in the direction of the hallway, "nothin' to worry 'bout. Couldn't be happier," he said earnestly.

You examined him closely as a slow smile spread across your face.

"What? I swear," he said, grinning.

"I know," you replied. "Because that's your real smile."

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" you asked him as you stepped off the elevator. The two of you had stood your ground and stayed at the restaurant, ordering another bottle of wine and a dessert to share, each of you refusing to bring up the topic of Sarah's mom until now, when the alcohol was making your head swim and your lips loose.

"Mhm, I'm sure," he said, leaning against the doorframe, blinking a few times and trying to focus on opening the door. "Nothin' to say that I already didn't know. Besides," he pushed the door open and looked at you with a smirk, "I ended up with who I was meant to be with."

"Charmer," you teased, feeling your face flush as you walked into the room and flicked the light on. You had barely made it three steps into the room before his hands circled around you from behind, pulling you close against his chest. Dropping your purse on the nightstand, you leaned back into him with a sigh.

"Do you want to open your present now?"

You felt him smile against the back of your neck.

"Yes, please," he mumbled.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach as you stepped away. Turning around, you gave his chest a gentle shove and he instantly obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, still wearing that black suit that made him look way too good. Your palms dragged up his chest and underneath his blazer, fingers curling around his broad shoulders and down his back so the jacket slid down in a pool around his waist. He watched you, hardly moving an inch, his breath coming quicker the longer he waited, loving and hating the anticipation.

"I really like this suit on you," you murmured, nipping at his earlobe while your hands made their way down. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, you tugged with both hands, pulling the material free from his pants. "But I think you deserve to be a little more comfortable."

He nodded, the wine and his insatiable need for you making him docile and quiet. He watched in a daze, barely blinking, as you turned around and slowly unzipped your dress, glancing once over your shoulder with a playful smirk. A very selfish and cruel thought popped into his clouded mind as he watched you, one his sober mind never would have allowed through. Why couldn't he have had Sarah with you, instead? You're so beautiful and perfect and sweet, you never would have abandoned them. You would have been a great mother. So patient and giving. Then another insane thought occurred to him as your dress began to slide down your body.

You still could be a great mother. And he could make that happen.

His lips parted, the words on the tip of his tongue, but fortunately the logical part of his brain took over: stop, too soon, don't say that, you're drunk.

He swallowed the words down, his mind losing focus on that random, sudden urge and fixating instead on the red, lacy lingerie you had hidden under your dress all evening. He let out a pained whimper when you turned around and he realized he could see right through the material, your perfect breasts and warm slit available for his gaze to devour.

He must have forgotten to speak, although the thoughts in his head were so loud, he could have sworn you'd be able to hear them. You looked at him shyly and shifted your weight from foot to foot.

"Do you like it?"

He dragged his eyes up to your face, his jaw slack and the hardness between his legs becoming incredibly uncomfortable. How could you possibly think he wouldn't like it?

"I love it," he said, voice low and heated. "I love you."

You grinned and stepped forward, standing between his legs, your fingers slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt while his hands roamed up and down the backs of your thighs, still hypnotized by the lingerie you bought just for him. Nobody else got to see this.

His hands drifted up to your hips, calloused palms dragging over the delicate material, his fingers slipping underneath the straps on the sides and giving them a playful snap. He dropped his hands so his shirt could join his blazer, then quickly found your soft skin once again. It was a miracle he remembered to breathe as his hands made their way up your stomach to cup your breasts. He marveled at the way you responded to him: breath hitching in your throat, thighs squeezing together, lower lip pulling between your teeth.

You gave him another gentle shove on the chest, and he fell backwards with a grunt, fingers itching to touch you but you were just out of reach as you began to undo his belt, then the zipper on his pants before tugging them down to his ankles. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing while you pulled his pants all the way off.

His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt your hot exhale over the fly of his boxers, warming his aching length, making him twitch. When you pulled his waistband down and took him in your perfect mouth, he groaned so loud he had to remind himself there were other people in the hotel. You smirked up at him, watching his jaw tense as he tried not to lose control, and the mere thought of him coming undone like that because of you made your knees weak. You loved that feeling. You recklessly chased that feeling, eager to see more, hear more, feel more to the point where his fingers had got tangled in your hair, gripping and pulling a little rougher than he meant to as he gasped your name.

"Slow down," he whispered, his voice strained. "Baby, please-"

You released him with a pop, watching with fascination and excitement as his sweaty chest rose up and down rapidly, his eyes screwed shut, deeply focused.

"Sorry," you said, your tone implying anything but. He finally opened his eyes to look at you, kneeling on the floor between his legs, hair a mess, lipstick smudged and he had to resist the urge to ask for another picture. "Scoot up," you told him, and he obediently dragged his body backwards so his legs no longer bent over the edge of the mattress. You slowly crawled on top of him, leaving chaste kisses along his thighs, then hips, stomach and chest until you found his lips.

You moaned softly when your clothed heat dragged over his stiff length, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you rocked back and forth slowly, reveling in the sensation. You lifted yourself off of him, your hands reaching down to pull down your underwear when he stopped you.

"Leave it on," he said huskily, then his finger tucked underneath the band as he slowly traced the edge of your panties, his smooth fingernail gliding along your skin until he reached the apex of your thighs. He hooked another finger underneath the soaked fabric and he pulled them to the side, then glanced up at you.

The heat and hunger behind his stare sent a bolt of excitement through you. Unable to hold back any longer, you reached down and notched him at your opening, then slowly sank down, mouth open and brows pinched as your body stretched to accommodate him, then letting out a quiet ah when you were finally fully seated.

"So pretty," he murmured repeatedly, his eyes raking all over your body as you began to roll your hips, somehow only noticing now for the first time the little roses embroidered on the lingerie. His fingers dug into your sides, guiding your movements as he stared down at where you were connected and he thought this is true happiness.

Your hands fell forward onto his chest, pressing down for leverage as you picked up the pace, your eyes squeezing shut and your breath coming in fast little pants. Your arms pushed your breasts together and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to put his mouth on you. He craned his neck upward, his mouth latching over a clothed nipple and you cried out when his teeth grazed against the sensitive nub a little too hard.

The lace felt soft against his tongue but was beginning to irritate the base of his cock as the material tried to shift back into place. He laid flat once again and in a heated moment without thinking, he dipped the index and middle fingers of both hands into your panties and gave them a forceful tug. You gasped and stalled your movements when you looked down and watched him pull the destroyed underwear from between you with a grunt.

"I'll buy you new ones," he said, his hands returning to your hips, urging you to continue. You giggled and picked up where you left off.

"No need, they were yours to do with what you wanted," you said, biting down on your lip when he gave you an animalistic groan.

His hips began to buck up into you, matching you thrust for thrust as you both began to lose yourselves in one another.

"Joel," you whined, trying to warn him, trying to tell him it feels too good, I love you too much, this weekend was too perfect, but all you could manage to do was chant his name. It didn't matter, though, because he knew. He was thinking the same things and he wondered if anyone else in history had ever loved and understood someone the way he does with you. Surely not, because how on earth would anything ever get done if everybody got to experience a love like this?

"Keep goin'," he muttered, his teeth clenching as he felt his stomach tighten. You bounced up and down faster, a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest, making you glow.

"Ohmygod, Joel, I'm close," you rasped, eyes boring into his. He nodded, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly and slamming you down over and over until you gasped then let out a low moan, your legs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up while you rode out your climax.

"Fuck!" he yelled, spilling himself inside you moments later. His hips thrusted upwards, pushing himself as deep as he could until he slowed, then came to a stop with a small whimper.

You collapsed tiredly onto his chest, the lace from your bra rubbing against his skin while his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close.

"I got you," he mumbled into your hair, both of you panting for breath. After a moment, you pressed slow, languid kisses against his shoulder, trailing up his neck until you found his lips.

"Thank you for my present," he said, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You giggled and, with shaky legs, pushed yourself off him and rolled to the side, clawing weakly at the sheets that housekeeping tucked in way too tightly until you could slip underneath. He stood up with a groan and disappeared into the bathroom, only to return a minute later with a damp washcloth and two bottles of water.

"Here," he said, holding one out to you. "We drank a lot of wine, you're gonna have a real bad headache if you don't drink some water."

You took it and he pulled the sheets back to clean you up. As you unscrewed the cap and watched him, you couldn't keep the smile from your face.

"Sarah was so lucky to have you, you know," you said, taking a sip of water, and he looked up at you in surprise. "Because you're so caring and patient. You always look out for everyone. You're so understanding and easy going, especially after everything you've gone through. That must have been so hard," you said, furrowing your brow while playing with one of his curls. "And you did such a great job, Joel. You're a really, really good dad."

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued to look at you, watching you play mindlessly with his hair, having no idea how impactful your words just were and how badly he needed to hear that.

"Thank you," he whispered, and you smiled.

"Let's go to sleep," you said, yawning through the last word, but he insisted you drink the rest of your water before he turned out the lights and snuck into bed behind you, pulling you close.

Even though you weren't Sarah's mom, you were in their lives now, and that's all that mattered.

"Hey, wake up," Joel was saying in your ear. You frowned, then winced as the inevitable hangover set in in the form of a monster headache.

"Ouch," you whispered, your throat gravelly with sleep. He chuckled and nudged a cold water bottle against your arm, making you shudder.

"Here, this'll help. I got some ibuprofen on your nightstand and breakfast is on the way up."

Cracking an eye open, you forced yourself to slowly sit up against the headboard and looked around the room. Your clothes were still scattered over the floor but it appeared Joel had tried to at least move them out of the way a bit. He was sitting next to you, still shirtless, hair a mess and looking a little under the weather himself, but when you asked if his head hurt, he denied it.

"What time is it?" you mumbled, searching around for your phone before you realized you had left it in your purse, which was next to the medicine you had yet to take.

"Ten," he said, tapping your arm to draw your focus off your purse and back onto him. "Move in with me."

"What?" you sputtered in shock.

"Move in with me," he repeated, a smile stretching across his face. "I want you to live with me and Sarah."

"B-but Joel, I just signed a lease to an apartment like, a month ago," you stammered, looking back down at your purse and fishing out your phone.

"How long's the lease?"

"Six months," you said, plugging your phone into the charger before turning back to him.

"Okay, so five more months?" he asked, and you nodded slowly. "Then you'll move in with us?"

"W-what- where is this coming from? We talked about this on New Years-"

"Yeah, I know, but I woke up today and looked over at you and realized I wanna be able to wake up next to you every day, not just sometimes," he said, scooting closer across the bed so he could hold your hand.

You thought about it for a moment, completely taken aback and your head still pounding. When you opened your mouth to answer, a knock at the door interrupted you.

"That's breakfast, hang on," he said, holding up one finger to you as he shrugged on a robe and greeted the waiter. You swallowed the two pills he left for you and chugged the water as you thought about your answer in the brief minute you had alone.

"So?" he urged when he came back into the bedroom carrying a tray of food and coffee. He seemed to anticipate your hangover because it was mostly toast and jams with some scrambled eggs for protein and a little bit of fruit.

"Did you talk about it with Sarah first?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you, his gaze softening for a quick moment before reaching out to cradle your face in his hands. He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, trying to express how much it meant to him that you thought of Sarah so often before he pulled away.

"Not yet, but I got a feelin' she'll love it," he said with a grin before he handed you a plate with some toast. "She wanted you to move in when we were in New York, remember?"

"Yeah, but you should still talk to her about it," you insisted, taking a tentative bite of toast.

"I will," he promised, watching you eat slowly for a moment. "So, is that a yes?"

You felt your heart flutter as you nodded your head, giggling when he excitedly lunged forward for another kiss.

Once your hangover wore off, the two of you explored the city for a few hours, then made sure to check out the hot tub in the hotel like Joel had wanted before heading home, all the while the two of you wearing matching smiles plastered across your faces.

Your real smiles.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hallmark #valentines day #valentines day fic #joel miller valentines day

[zvdvdlvr]

Okay but hear me out Hotch's love language is acts of service. That man is a caregiver and maybe I'm projecting because I'm currently taking care of my own stitches but like if you were hurt in the field and got cut by a knife or something he would absolutely go out of his way to clean your wound and rebandage you as needed. Or like if you burnt your hand grabbing a hot pan or something while you guys were making dinner 🥲 he's just so soft

Yes. Absolutely. This is literally him.

Aaron’s always gonna blame himself, no matter if it really is his fault or not; so taking care of you in any way, shape, or form is always gonna be an opportunity Aaron will take.

Even if you aren’t dating Aaron still wants to help patch you up because thats just the kinda guy he is :))

im giggling thinking about being in a relationship woth Hotch and him sitting you down to rewrap a bandage, put vaseline or aquaphor on your stitches, or even putting ointment on a burn.

Boyfriend!Hotch fawning over tou after you burn yourself making dinner for you, him, and Jack!!!!!!! He would undoubtedly drop everything and run over after hearing you hiss in pain and cuss quietly (he admires how you try not to cuss in fromt of Jack). “Oh, honey,” he’d coo and pull you over to the sink. I NEED HIM TO CALL ME ‘HONEY’, YOUR HONOR.

Can you imagine him kissing the bandage too after you cracked a joke about him kissing Jack’s boo-boos?? 😥😥 i actually need him.

OKOKOKOK

imagine you just got cut by an unsub:

It wasn’t Hotch’s fault, no matter how much you tried to reassure him as the medics stitched up the admittedly deep cut on your thigh.

The unsub, you tried to reason with him, was just a hunter with very good aim and a warped mind. But Hotch wouldn’t have it. He literally wrapped your arm over his shoulder so he could walk you out to the medics, paced on the ground outside the ambulance, and refused to let you drive to the plane and hotel without him.

So that’s where you are now: opening your door for Hotch and Jack to enter your house.

“Hi, y/n!” Jack greeted, throwing himself out to hug y/n’s legs. You patted his back and ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey kiddo,” you greeted, trying to hide the wince on your face before Aaron saw.

But he did. “I, uh, told Jack you got hurt and he… decided he would throw a fit until he came to make sure you weren’t sad.”

That made you smile; yeah, Hotch, blamd it on Jack. “You’re the sweetest, Jackie-boy. No way any one could be sad around you,” you practically sang, picking the boy up. “Come in, Hotch. I see that first-aid kit you have.”

Hotch pretended not to see the way you favored your uninjured leg over the other when you set Jack on the couch, already knowing what movie he wanted to watch.

“Hey,” you said finally, “Jack’s watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier.” You took a seat at the table.

“He was excited about coming to see you,” Aaron admits. “He told me that you’re his favorite because you ‘like Captain America, always have candy, and make sure he’s never sad’, according to him.”

You laugh a little, but your heart is swollen up in your chest like a balloon. You’re Jack’s favorite? “So… tell me why you’re really here, Hotch.”

“Aaron.”

You pause, seeing Hotch’s eye contact falter. “What?”

“You can call me Aaron. We aren’t at the office, so I don’t see a problem in you calling me Aaron. And my son is on your couch, so…” He trails off, a smile pulling at his lips.

You think you can feel little a butterfly volcano erupt in your stomach. You’re hot boss is smiling at you. Inside your house. “So,” you start again, voice quieter this time, “why are you here, Aaron?” You want to scream. Hotch’s name on your tongue felt foreign but you really wanted to get used to calling him by his first name.

“I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself after getting,” he paused, thinking of the blood staining your pants when he first saw you, “cut up by the unsub.”

“If you want me to take my pants off, you just have to ask,” you scoffed, tugging down your sweatpants to reveal a bloodied bandage wrapped in gauze. Your shirt was oversized, falling to just above the end of the gauze. “I changed the wrap a couple hours ago, but I got bored and moved some stuff around and it probably started bleeding,” you explained, watching Aaron pull set your leg on the chair he was sitting in to rewrap your injury.

“Y-This is okay?” He asked, large hands hovering directly over your skin.

After nodding, you swallowed as you watched Aaron carefully unwrapped the thin gauze and inspected the dark red patterns staining the bandage.

He doesn’t say a word as he rips the bandage off, not saying a word when he feels your hand fly to his shoulder for support- something that makes him flush a little.

“Aaron, I can do it mysel-“

“Let me take care of you,” he interrupts, looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes that he does so well and you know you’d listen to him if he told you to rip your heart out of your chest and give it to him just because he’s got you wrapped around his pinkie.

“Okay.”

Despite the movie in the background, you both fall into silence; afraid to break the silence.

He had to admit, Aaron hadn’t felt so giddy in a while. Even here, on his knees in your home, Aaron found himself once again questioning if he wanted to make a move. He felt you squeeze his shoulder a little as he dabbed some cold ointment on the stitches but he wanted to feel your hands on him. Rewrapping the bandage would be the awkward part: having to get his hands very close to your sex.

“Do you want to do it?” Aaron asked.

“I think you should. I might mess it up or something,” you shrug, clearly lying. But Aaron wanted you to lie.

So carefully, gingerly, Aaron wrapped the guaze over the bandage, hands gliding over your thigh to make sure the thin material would stay.

“Done,” he announced. “Does it feel okay? Not too tight? Too loose?” He asked.

“Perfect.”

He looked up at you. “y/n?”

“I think… my thigh’s a little sore. You uh, might need to kiss my boo-boo to make sure I feel better.”

A sly smile grew on Aaron’s face while he watched your face turn red and you avoiding eye contact.

So Aaron leaned over and pressed his lips to the sterile gauze, kissing the material covering your skin.

The butterfly volcano had successfully self destructed, making every body part possible buzz at the sight of Aaron leaning over you.

#ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #jules writes 📓🖊 #kj.answers #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut

[uncpanda]

The Ties that Bind: Family Tree

AN: I'm baccckkkk Please enjoy this update. It takes place in season six

Master List

Warnings: None I think

“Hello Hotchners!” 

“Hi mommy!” 

“Hi angel.” They both smile at you from the table. You drop a kiss on the top of Jack’s head and he smiles up at you. 

Things had been significantly better since the farmer’s market incident. In the three weeks since, you and Aaron had gone to several sessions with Jack. His therapist was helping the three of you  come together as a blended family. Your own therapist and Aaron’s had also been brought in and caught up by Jack’s. 

You peck Aaron’s cheek and he catches your arm, and squints at you. “Proper kiss, please.” You barely resist smirking; instead, you roll your eyes and peck his lips. “That wasn’t a proper kiss.” 

“Jack is right there.” 

This time it’s Aaron who rolls his eyes. He wraps his arm around Jack’s head, so that his hand settles over the boy’s eyes. Jack giggles and you swoop down and kiss your boyfriend properly. 

“Happy?” 

He releases Jack, “With you? Always.” 

You slip your shoes off and notice what’s on the table, “What’s with all the pictures?” 

“I have to do a family tree. Here’s daddy and mama and grandpa and grandma and aunt Jess. I still need pictures of you and Uncle Spencer.” 

“I’m in the family tree?” 

Jack nods. 

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll get my photo boxes out.” Once Jack is focused on the pictures, you jerk your head towards the bedroom. Aaron follows after telling Jack he’ll be right back. 

He cracks the door to your bedroom. You turn on him, “How the hell are they still doing family trees? Families are complicated and . . . is Jack okay with this?”  

Aaron smiles, “Yes. He was very excited about the project, and Jess is bringing over more pictures of her brother and sister.  He wants to include you and Spencer.”

You let out a breath, “I swear he is the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.” 

Aaron smiles, “I’m pretty happy with him.” 

You start shirking out of your clothes and you can feel Aaron’s eyes on you. You shoot him a wink as you change out of your work clothes and into lounge pants and a t-shirt. You head to the closet next and pull out one of your picture boxes. It’s really just a decorated shoe box. One of three. It holds a lot of your loose pictures; the ones not in albums. 

You carry it out to the kitchen table and set it down in front of Jack and his eyes light up. You roll your eyes when he just dumps it out on the table. You start shifting through the pictures. 

“Who’s this?” 

“That is Bryan. My high school boyfriend who was extremely delusional.” 

Jack’s brow furrows in an uncanny imitation of Aaron, “Delusional?” 

“He wanted to get married right after high school. I moved to California instead.” 

Jack giggles, and Aaron asks, “What?” 

You clarify, “He wanted to get married right after highschool, his parents wanted to finish raising Spencer, and they wanted me to start popping out grandbabies.” 

“It sounds like the start of one of my cases.” 

Jack holds up a new photo and you wince, “Who’s this?” 

Aaron scowls, “That’s the bastard.” 

“Aaron! Language.” 

“We only use that word in relation to this one man. He hurt mommy’s feelings.” 

Jack’s face grows serious, “I don’t like him.” 

You pluck the picture out of Jack’s hands and stare at you and Joel. You look at both of your boys and rip it in half. You throw the part that has you back in the box and rip the part with Joel in half. 

“Happy?” 

Aaron lets out a huff, “Only if I get a punch in one day.” It’s muttered, and you nudge him. 

“Look at all of these of you and uncle Spencer.” 

“Yeah, it was mostly just the two of us.” 

“Here’s one of you and uncle Sean, daddy!” 

Your eyes go wide, “You have a brother?” 

This is the first time you’re hearing about a brother. Aaron hesitates, and then tells Jack, “Why don’t you take a break, buddy?” 

“Okay.” And just like that he’s gone to go play. 

There’s a moment of silence, “You have a brother?” 

He nods, “Sean. He’s thirteen years younger than me. We’re not close.” 

You nudge him with your shoulder, “I figured. Why did you never mention him?” 

He takes a breath, “I was ashamed. You and Spencer are so close. You gave up everything to raise him, and I . . . I pretty much abandoned Sean.” 

You poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “Aaron. You know more about my resentment towards my parents, and about my childhood than anyone. Even Spencer.” 

Aaron hesitates, “You know more than anyone else too. Even Haley didn’t know the extent of my dad. She just thought he yelled. Sean was not the subject of his anger, and apparently when I left for boarding school it mostly became verbal. But I still left him there.” 

“Your dad sent you away, Aaron. You didn’t have a choice.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek, “Still, I should have. . .” 

“It’s not the same.” Aaron pauses and you continue, “I’m not saying Sean was safe. Not with your father around, but he was okay. He had food. And Heat. And AC. And from what you say, everything he could wish for. That doesn’t excuse the mental turmoil he or you or your mom went through, but there was nothing you could have done. They wouldn’t have let you take him to college or anything like that. They certainly weren’t going to give you a say in raising him. Every situation is different.” 

He rubs his hands together, “I still feel guilty.” 

Quietly, you admit, “I still feel mad at my parents. Our parents screwed us, Aaron. We make the best of it. And when it comes to our own kids, we make it right. We stop what they did. We’re already doing it with Jack. He doesn’t have to worry about anything. He’s not scared of you or Haley or me.” You cover his hands with yours and squeeze, “We’re doing great if I do say so.” 

He smiles and tugs you towards him. You leave your chair for his lap and you kiss him. 

“Ewwww.” 

You and Aaron smile and turn to find Jack making a face. The two of you share a look and then you’re chasing after him. You catch him first, and then Aaron catches the two of you. Together the three of you gently fall onto the bed. Your happy little family.  

#aaron hotch #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch imagine #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds imagine #jack hotchner

[oceansssblue]

If you're still taking clone requests, I would LOVE to see something cute and domestic! A couple ideas I've been rotating in my head lately:

-Fives and reader messing around in the kitchen together, making dinner, dancing to stupid music and teasing each other's cooking skills, which inevitably ends in a huge mess (and dinner probably being forgotten about...)

-Wrecker getting sick and being forced into bed despite trying to keep working. It's totally against his will at first, but soon he starts to enjoy the chance to be soft and gentle. The reader finally convinces him to let them take care of him for once, assuring him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one

-Echo and the reader discussing starting a family, Echo expressing his doubts about what kind of father he would be and the reader reassuring him, telling him how much they love watching him with Omega and how good a father he'd be. The more they talk about it the more excited Echo gets at the idea

Hope these sparked something for you! Have a great day :)

Okay okay! Decided to do the two bottom ones as I've already done a kitchen fluffy one with fives and got a few for him requested as well (one of which I'll be working on next).

They're short, since I wanted to do both of then in the same post under the cut. Hope you like them, enjoy!

"BED REST"

TBB REQUESTS– WRECKER/GN READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: none

Somehow, inherently with being a big, strong person, Wrecker was used to helping people. Maybe it was just Wrecker's personality on itself; the way he felt truly happy when taking care of someone, being part of the solution to someone's problem. Wether it be physicall help or kind words, it made him feel warm.

What Wrecker wasn't used to, however, was to be taken care of. Well, he had a very close relationship with his brothers, and they always had an eye out for each other; but it wasn't like that. It didn't soothe any deeper emotional part of him. It was more of a... physical safety check of sorts. Tech had actually suggested to integrate a monthly therapy session to talk about their respective feelings years ago; but it hadn't ended up being a reality, lost instead in his never ending line of hypothetical ideas.

Maybe that's the reason why Wrecker doesn't say anything about the way he's feeling himself. Maybe that's the reason why he puts up a big smile on his face and sits through the presentation of your project as if he's not feeling downright awful. He's so kind and sweet even in his state you don't even notice it until you're actually home with him; and you see him pulling up an uncomfortable expression when he watches you take out some pasta from your fridge.

"Wrecker?" You look at him confused and slightly worried. "Are you feeling okay, honey?"

Wrecker tries to smile again; but his expresion falls and he quickly takes a hand to his stomach, putting slight preasure to it.

You frown and close the fridge, abandoning the tupper back inside of it and aproaching him closely. You carefully place your hand on his wide shoulder.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling ill?" You guess.

Wrecker hesitates.

"Oh, it's nothing" he quickly answers, even with his face twisting in pain. "Just my stomach being whinny".

You smile and caress his shoulder. Poor Wrecker, trying to ignore himself to push through your presentation and make you happy. You can't have him suffering.

"Why don't you go lay down on bed for a bit? I'll make you some tea and be right there" you suggest.

Wrecker frowns in disagreement.

"Oh, no, love, there's no need. I'm fine, really. I'll probably be as good as new in a pair of hours".

You're a little confused as by why he's so reluctant to admit he's not doing good and let you help. You try to soothe him with another caress and a smile; gentle expression on your face.

"And you can rest til you do" you insist, softly but firm, leaving no space for him to evade you.

Wrecker glances to the side.

"Oh, uh... Love..." he suddenly exhales deeply, as if surrendering, and adds in an embarassed tone "I just don't want you to feel like you need to fuss over me. I can take care of myself".

You blink slowly. Ah. You might be starting to see the problem. Maybe it's related with the fact that he's a soldier; always the hero, the saviour, and not the damsel in distress. Maybe it's just that he's Wrecker; always strong and efficient. Well...

"You don't have to be strong with me all the time" you whisper to him, closing up the distance between each others faces and nuzzling your nose with his, affectionately. "I know you can take care of yourself, Wreck, but I want to take care of you too".

Wrecker sighs, and you know you've almost got him convinced, so you continue.

"You always take such good care of me, love. I want to take care of you now. Wanna make you feel loved and safe. Let me, please?"

Wrecker melts and finally nods. You give him a little smile and direct him to your bedroom. Your boyfriend slowly lays in bed, with his back against the wall, watching you hesitantly; you give him a peck on the cheek before returning to the kitchen and quickly putting up together the best of your teas. You think it might help to settle Wrecker's stomach.

You go back to your bedroom with it in your hand; and you carefully pass it to Wrecker, who inmediately gives it an exploratory sip. He humms in aproval; and you find a spot besides him, both of your thighs pressed together.

You patiently wait til Wrecker has finished his tea and has left the empty cup on your nightstand. Then, you slowly direct the clone to scooch downwards and place his head on your lap. You caress his head, then his shoulders and chest; soothing patterns with the sole purpose to comfort him.

Wrecker melts. This was better than what he had thought of at first. He thought it might be uncomfortable, relinquishing control to some other person, being the one in need; but oh, this is great, with your soft hands and your tender words. He might grow to even like it.

Your hands squeeze a sore spot on his shoulder and he groans.

Yeah. He will.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"TO PLAN A FAMILY"

TBB REQUESTS – ECHO/F READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: Mentions of prosthetics and starting a family.

You first noticed it at the end of your first year dating Echo. The lingering glances, the way he seemed to grow lost in his thoughts, how he sighed deeply as if there was something pulling at his heart. You became observant throughout the first part of that second year together; and you reached your conclusion. It's always Hunter and Omega.

They're incredibly sweet, both of them. It's warming to see them interact together in their own special father and daughter relationship. Hunter's firm and always attentive; Omega in his teenager era trying to be more independent. Trying to show everyone she's capable, though you all know she is.

Inevitably, you start paying more attention to Echo's own interactions with the blond girl. For some reason, Omega has always saved a special spot on her heart for Echo; and since you returned with him to the Marauder after a last dangerous mission with Rex and the Rebellion, she has grown even closer to the man that holds your own heart.

It makes you melt, the way he takes care of her. How he teaches her and how he patiently waits for her to replicate his lesson; gentle hands redirecting her and a proud, small smile pulling on his lips when she achieves it. When things get hard, and Omega grows sad or restless, Echo talks her through it; voice soft but not masking reality, helping her understand and process that things can't always be as they want to, but that there's always a reason to keep trying. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you think on how many times this wonderful man has said those same words to himself.

"Echo" you whisper his name one night when you can't keep holding it in. He slowly turns in bed towards you and hums sleeply. You brace yourself for any possible reaction of his. "Do you ever want to have kids?"

At first, Echo seems to freeze. Then he blinks twice, as if he is trying to move on from the fact that you've actually asked him this question out loud; and then he sighs quietly.

"I don't know if I should, to start with" he answers, voice barely audible in the silence of your bedroom.

You frown, lost.

"Why not?"

Echo mirrors your position in front of him; laying on one side of his body with his prosthetic knees slightly bent and head resting on his left bycep.

His eyes move away from yours, glancing down in that reserved way of his that indicate he's feeling a mix of contradicting emotions. You know him well by now.

"We're not living the safest of lifes, cyare. What kind of father would I be if I had to dissapear to help Rex here and there, or put my son through a constant runaway? Besides... They just might get scared of me".

You know the last statement refers to his appearance –you haven't met him before, so you've always seen this shape of his hot as fuck–; and you gently clasp his shoulder with your hand.

"Don't say that" you answer, softly. "They won't. They won't care if you have methalic legs or arms or a headset. They'd love you just the same, just like I do. It's what good families do".

Echo stays silent, thoughtfull. He shimmies forward in bed so that you're touching now; one of your thighs quickly moving over his hip and snuggling together, noses touching and nuzzling slowly.

"Would you?" He finally asks you. "Have kids?"

Your heart beats steadily inside your chest. You can't lie to him.

"Yes" you whisper, hand moving to caress his cheek delicately. You sigh, wishful, and you confess "I love watching you with Omega. You've just got the perfect ammount of gentleness, firmness, patience and honesty. I can't help but imagine you crouching down to explain something to a little Echo as well".

You kiss him sweetly and whisper in front of his lips "You'd be a great father, riduur".

Echo makes a sound with the back of his throat, pulling you tigther towards him. You close your eyes in the embrace.

Echo pictures it in his mind. A smaller version of himself and you, a perfect mix, running around and asking innocent questions to the both of you. How you'd look with him in your arms and how much you'd both love him. It's so beautiful in his mind it suddenly hurts for it not to be real.

Echo hums and conceeds.

"We can talk thorugh it seriously tomorrow" he agrees, pulling a radiant hopeful smile on your face "But right now it's late, and we both need to sleep".

You nod enthusiastically. You know you won't be able to for at least another hour, too excited at the possibility of your recents dream becoming true; but you'll just close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat.

You give his lips a peck and glance downwards. You tap his prosthetics with your index.

"You gonna take this today, mesh'la?" You ask him casually.

Once thing you have learned is that Echo doesn't like his physical problems to be treated as if he were made of glass. He understands the empathy; but it makes him uncomfortable, sometimes. By now, after two years together, you've already perfectioned your ways; and the best one is to just be normal about it, not to avoid it or tone it down. Echo's dissabled, but not uncapable. There's an abism of a difference.

"Yeah" Echo answers, moving to search the joints and attachments to abandon his prosthetic legs to the side. "My hips hurt today".

You hum and patiently wait for him to pull them off, leaving them carefully on the floor, before he rolls back towards you and you instanctly welcome him back into your arms.

You kiss him again and yawn.

"We'll take a warm bath tomorrow and I'll give you a nice massage afterwards" you offer, growing sleepy.

Echo smiles.

"You're too good to me" he whispers, cuddling closer.

You hum in disagreement.

"I'm as good as you deserve".

That night, you both dream of your own little family.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taraaaa! Two in one love, u can't complain! Hahahaha. I hope you liked them, they ended up really fluffy and sweet on my opinion.

I'll be writing either a Fives or Tech request next, stay stunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here!

#wrecker tbb #echo tbb #echo x you #echo x reader #tbb wrecker #wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #tbb echo #bad batch echo #arc trooper echo #echo #clone trooper wrecker #wrecker bad batch #star wars #clones #fanfic #tbb #hunter tbb #tech tbb #clone wars #fics #omega tbb #fluff #one shot #comfort #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the clone wars #bad batch #hunter bad batch

[munsons-hellfire]

Debut | Pedro Pascal

SUMMARY: You met Pedro through Oscar, whom you had met on set on one of the films you had worked on together. Now in 2023 you and Pedro decide to make your relationship public at the premiere of the Last of Us, however not everyone is happy about the relationship.

PAIRINGS: Pedro Pascal x Reader

REQUESTED BY: Inhumasx (through Wattpad on Eye Of The Flames)

CONTENT WARNINGS: SFW, Age Gap ( Reader is 28, Pedro is 47 ), fluff, angst, SFW, mentions of anxiety, no use of y/n, established relationship

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I can not tell you how much I enjoyed writing this. It was so fun to get back to the roots of writing for celebrities. I was thinking of maybe doing a part 2 because I feel that the ending could be further explored. How would you feel about that?

WORD COUNT: 2.3K Words

PART 2

You had met your current boyfriend through Oscar Issac. A coworker and a good friend, the two of you worked together on a film that had gotten well enough praise that really boasted your acting career. However while Pedro's family and friends knew about his relationship with you the fans did not and neither did your parents. Correction: you had been hiding your relationship from your mom because you knew how she would act if she found out who you had been dating.

But you were thankful to have Pedro's side of his family and his friends supporting your relationship. You had met Pedro shortly after your 24th birthday. From then on the two of you were inseparable. By your 25th birthday you had officially started dating each other and had wanted to keep it as private as you could. When the both of you had been asked about your dating life you had made it very clear that you both were seeing someone but wanted to keep it as private as you could.

With the premiere of the Last of Us coming up, Pedro really wanted you to go with him, he also wanted to announce to the world that the two of you were together. And you didn't want to at first, afraid of what the repercussions would be when the world and your parents found out. But you know how excited Pedro was about this project and you wanted nothing more to support him like he had done for you even if it had been from afar. And the more you two talked about coming public with your relationship, the more it made you excited about your future with him.

So on the final day he had asked you to come to the Last of Us premiere you had said yes. But here you were sitting on the edge of your shared bed staring down at your shaky hands. You were trying the best you could to stay calm but you were filled with nerves. Pedro had noticed you hadn't moved from the spot on the bed after you had gotten into your dark blue dress, at the top flowers entangled with leaves and vines. The vines and leaves eventually moved down your dress stopping about an inch from the trim of the dress.

Half your hair had been pulled back into a small bun, while the rest had been curled and wrapped around your front and back. You had simplistic makeup on, and not too much of it. Your blue dress was adorned with black heels that tied at your ankles. Pedro walked up to you, sitting down next to you and grasping a hold of your hand. The warmth from his hand allowed you to finally feel some comfort.

"What's going on in that head of yours, baby?" Pedro questioned, a serious but concerning look resting on his face.

You turned slightly to look at the man you loved so much, a smile made its way to your lips and you could finally feel yourself calming down through his touch. "I'm just nervous, that's all." You whispered, as you stared down at your connected fingers.

Pedro leaned over to you and placed a kiss on your hair. "There's no need to be nervous, everything is going to be okay. We're going to have a fun night and not worry about what people will say, not tonight." You gave a nod of your head, feeling that if you talked your voice would betray you in some way. "We should get going now." Pedro stood up from the bed, pulling you with him.

Your smile grew brighter as the two of you walked out of your bedroom and headed for the front door. A car was waiting outside your apartment to take you to the premiere. After exiting the building the car door was opened and you entered first followed by Pedro. Once in the driver took off taking you to the premiere. The car pulled to a stop at the carpet, it was time. Pedro looked over at you and sent a soft smile, the smile of course reached his eyes.

When the door opened he was the first to step out of the back. He waved at the fans and the press, then turned back to the car and held his hand out to you. You took a quick breath in and exhaled it, reaching for Pedro's hand and gripping onto it tightly. but not tight enough that you were hurting him. You placed a smile to your lips once you could start to see the flashing cameras. Pedro pulled you close to him, his hand still connected to yours as you walked on the carpet.

You could feel your anxiety rising inside you, Pedro seemed to sense that he disconnected your hands and placed his on the skin of your back. In a calming motion he started to rub circles on your back knowing that it would help, and it did a lot actually. Then the questions started to fly out of the mouths of the press.

"Are you and Pedro together?"

"How long have you two been dating?"

"What are your future plans?"

You and Pedro knew that they would ask questions about your relationship, but you would ignore them. You would really only answer them, if Pedro was with you and the question had been directed towards you. You still didn't want anyone knowing too much about your life, you liked to keep things private especially when it came to your relationships. There was always a burning fear that once the public found out everything would come crashing down and that fear settled in the back of your head.

As you finished pictures you moved away from Pedro to allow him to get pictures of himself. Eventually the rest of the cast started to arrive as well as other celebrities who had come to the premiere. A reporter had called out to you, and you didn't want to ignore them so you walked over to them with your best smile.

"Hi, how are you doing?" You asked the reporter when you came to a stop.

"I'm doing great. You look lovely tonight." The reporter paused as you gave a nod and a soft thank you to the complaint. "I noticed that you arrived on the carpet with Pedro, is he the person you've been seeing?" You knew the question was coming and you were prepared to answer it. For a brief moment you looked over at Pedro, he was answering questions with a smile on his face.

"I am. We've been together for about 3 years now. I'm very happy with him, I love Pedro so much." Your face practically lit up when you started to talk about Pedro, even the reporter could see it. Sure enough fans who would watch the interview later seemed to notice just how much your face had lit up when talking about Pedro.

"How did you and Pedro meet?"

"I met Pedro through Oscar, who I had worked on a previous project with. Him and I started out as friends, we became inseparable and after my 25th birthday he asked me out and I couldn't say no to him. Well the rest is history as they say."

"Are there any future plans for marriage or kids?"

You felt your breath catch in your throat. You weren't prepared for the question, you didn't even think it would be asked tonight. Your eyes found Pedro's soft brown eyes. He was walking towards you and from the way your face had turned ghostly pale, it seemed you needed his help in a way. Pedro eventually joined your side wrapping his left arm around your back and resting his hand on the front of your stomach. He pulled you close to him.

"I was just asking if there were any future plans for marriage or kids?" The question ran through your head again, Pedro now knew why you had that ghostly look on your face. Neither of you had made it to that point in your relationship. But he knew if he was going to settle down it would be with you, only if you would want the same.

"That isn't something we've really discussed, we're just taking our relationship one day at a time." Pedro answered, recovering for you. You and Pedro thanked the interview and moved on down the carpet heading to the next portion which was pictures. You could hear them screaming your name along with Pedro's asking you for pictures with each other though you were sure they already got plenty of pictures of the two of you.

The next set of words that left some of the reporters' mouths seemed to throw you into a brick wall. They were asking why you had chosen to date Pedro, someone who you were clearly half his age. You should've expected those questions to come up and about at some point in the night. Most of the fans would be more than thrilled that you and Pedro were in a relationship with each other. But there were going to be others who deemed your relationship inappropriate because Pedro was 47 and you were 28.

You pushed through the pictures and ignored the questions that kept pouring in about you too. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin Pedro's night and his success with the show. You were here not to answer these questions, it wasn't your night it was his and you wanted to be the supportive girlfriend because this night was just as important to you as it was to Pedro. So you plastered a fake smile and pushed your way through the night.

When it was finally over and you were back in the car with Pedro, you didn't talk. You couldn't hide your emotions from Pedro, but he knew that it was probably better to talk about what had happened in the morning when the two of you had gotten some sleep. Arriving home you were quick to make it inside and change into some comfy clothes, that included a shirt that belonged to Pedro that was in your shared closet. After you had changed you heard your phone ringing from your bed.

You walked out of the bathroom, Pedro was standing at the door staring at your phone. Your father's face had popped up on the screen and now you weren't so sure that neither of you would get the sleep that you wanted tonight. With a heavy sigh you climbed onto the bed and grabbed a hold of your phone. As you sat down Pedro came and sat down next to you grasping a hold of your hand as you answered the phone and placed your father on speaker. You knew that Pedro wouldn't say anything but you still wanted him to listen.

"Hi, dad." You called out, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt Pedro grip your hand tightly in his hopes it would allow you to remain calm. As of right now Pedro was your anchor, he was keeping you from drifting off into the sea of your emotions that could cloud your mind for days on end.

"Hi, sweetheart. I saw you went to the Last of Us premiere with Pedro. How was it?" Your father asked. You felt some relief to the question that had been asked. He wasn't asking if you two were together because he already knew the answer to it, the only thing he truly wanted to know is if you were happy and safe with Pedro. He looked at you and watched the smile brighten up your face after your dad had asked the question.

"It was amazing, I was so lucky to be able to go with Pedro and see his success. I am so proud of him and everything he's done with the show so far." You looked at Pedro, he was smiling back at you, your words hitting him right where they needed too.

"How long have you two been together?" You weren't sure if you should answer the question given the fact that you didn't know if your mother was listening in on your conversation. She was always a snooper when it came to anything regarding your love life and there were just so many different ways that she would treat this news. She hated the idea of her child being with anyone that wasn't the same age. So you knew if she found out this would be hard for her to accept.

"About 4 years." You heard the gasp on the other end before your father even had a chance to respond to you. The phone was most likely ripped straight from his hands.

"4 years!" Your mother's voice ran through the speaker and the sudden fear that had been pushed down inside you made its rise inside you, you felt yourself become more anxious by the second. "You listen to me, you are going to break off this relationship and you are going to come back home. Clearly moving to Hollywood was not the right option for you."

"Mom, I'm 28. I'm not a teenager anymore you can't tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing with my life." Pedro knew all too well how your mother could act. It was one of the reasons why you had never taken Pedro to meet your parents. You felt that he would get along with your dad for sure, but your mother was just a different story altogether.

"If you do not come home by the end of this week, then you are no longer my child. You don't belong in that world."

The phone call ended before you had a chance to give a response to your mother or even finish your conversation with your father. When the line went dead the tears sprung from your eyes, you knew as well as Pedro did that this was going to be a long week.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us premiere #reader insert #celebrity #real person fiction

[foreverdolly]

baby fever | daddy!austin x mommy!reader

yet another request from my "three days of blurbs" event. i'm expanding this event in a very exciting way. so be on the lookout for that announcement.

request: just more daddy austin pls ! and then another person requested the same thing saying: how are daddy!Austin and mommy!reader doing? how is the baby?

requested by: anon and @stephthestallion

word count: 1.3k

warnings/notes: a whole year later and austin is sitting across from the same interviewer who officially broke the big news about the birth of his first child. austin's ready to gush some more about his little family. basically tooth rotting fluff. austin is the best dad and husband. basically part two to 'baby bliss'.

“Here we are, Austin.” The interviewer shuffled her question cards around in her hands, smiling down at her lap for a few moments as she readied herself. “Last week marked an entire year since our last interview.” The woman looked a tad bit older. She wasn’t decked out in bright colors and tight fitting clothes like the last time around, rather she looked well put together and business casual. The years had changed her, and for the better it would seem. 

It was hilarious to look back on last year's interview. He remembered how much he had been dreading it. How he had doubted the interviewers integrity and her ability to carry herself professionally. This time around he felt relaxed in his folding chair, his ring clad fingers gripping onto the wooden armrests so that he could pull himself up a little higher so that he could straighten out his broad shoulders.  He didn’t need to look at his manager to know that she was smiling. Todays interview felt light and carefree, and for once Austin didn’t feel nervous in the least to answer questions about his life. 

“One whole year, huh? Time flies by when you’re having fun. . . or something along those lines.” He flashed a smile before laughing at his own awkwardness. 

It was odd to think about how far he had come since the Elvis movie. He’d been a part of so many projects since then. It really had been his big break, and he was thankful for that. The blessings in his life had been immeasurable after the film. To say that time flew by would be an understatement. 

Taking care of business in a flash. 

He smiled fondly down at his boots, clearing his throat as he readied himself for more questioning. He was prepared today for the more personal direction that this interview would be sure to lean towards. Austin could be a very private man, but he had gotten the go ahead from his wife to discuss the smaller details of their life. Gushing over his son just so happened to be his favorite pastime. 

“A ton has happened in this last year for you. Awards, new movies, cameos in television shows, partnerships- through all of these personal triumphs for austin, do you still feel even slightly influenced by Elvis? Or was that just a necessary phase in your life that’s come and gone?” 

Austin straightened out his jacket, as he leaned an elbow on the armrest, shifting his weight from one hip to the other. The director style chair was horrifically uncomfortable and dug into his thighs. 

“I’m not Elvis, but I dedicated almost three years of my life to becoming him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake him and all of his mannerisms, if that’s what you're asking. He feels like less of a role that I played and more like a family member to me now. Like an older brother, or even a best friend. I’ve never truly loved someone that I’ve never met before, but that’s Elvis for me.” 

She nodded her head, shooting him a warm smile before switching to another card. 

“The interview that I did with you practically broke the internet. Still, to this day, it’s the video that has the most views on our channel.” 

Austin nervously chuckled, using his hand to gently pinch the soft skin of his bottom lip, shaking his head in disbelief. It was still crazy to think that he went from being a low paid actor who could only book romcom gigs to this. Gone were the days of playing the doting boyfriend in cheesy television shows. He still felt like he was dreaming when he was reminded of his influence. He mumbled a quick “that’s insane” before she continued. 

“You announced that your wife had her baby, so I was hoping that you’d fill us in a little. What’s going on in the Butler household? What’s new?” 

He had been prepared for the personal questions, as was his wife. 

“Y/N’s doing really great. She started up her own business about two months after Finn was born, and it’s just exploded for her. I’m incredibly proud of her. She was always into metal work, but seeing how her jewelry brand has taken off? I’m just in awe of her.” Austin could talk about his other half for hours. Y/n never ceased to amaze him. Everything she did just sparkled to him. He still had to pinch himself sometimes, just to make sure that he hadn’t dreamed her up. “Finn also just celebrated his first birthday, and that just absolutely blows my mind. I’d be lying if I said that the wife and I didn’t cry. He got so big and so fast. Too fast for my liking.” 

“Do you like being a dad? You used to be pretty inactive on your social media accounts, but you post about your family pretty consistently. From the outside looking in your life looks perfect. We’re all so happy for you.” 

“I love being a dad and I love being a husband. When you find the person that you want to spend your life with, it never feels like settling. I don’t miss the bachelor days at all.” Austin’s rings glimmered in the bright set lighting as he continued to talk with his hands. “If anything, I’m relieved that they’re over. It’s like I’m just now starting to live my life. These last few months have been incredibly busy, but with the holidays coming up I’m just happy to have a little break.” Thankfully he didn’t have any interviews or shoots booked for the two weeks leading up to Christmas. He was ready to give his little family his full and undivided attention. 

“Do you have some things planned for the holidays?” She asked, setting her cards down. It seemed like they were getting off topic, but the interviewer didn’t seem to mind. 

“Tons, actually. Y/n grew up with fake Christmas trees, so it’s become a Butler family tradition to go and get a real fur tree. Some of our family are going to be visiting, so our guest rooms will be occupied for the first time in a while. She’s been decorating the house nonstop. She’s always been crazy about celebrating, which I appreciate more than she knows. It’s special every year.”  

The interviewer asked a few more questions regarding his current projects, and he divulged all that he could. The small piece of paper was starting to feel heavy in his pocket, and he was beginning to get more and more nervous as the minutes ticked by. Him and his wife had been planning something special. 

One year later. 

Doing it this way felt right. 

“Well it was a pleasure, as always, to speak with you, Austin. Super quick, tell the people where they can find you and what you’re working on.” 

“I’m on instagram. I really only post about my projects and family, so I’m pretty boring. And,” He lifted up in the seat, shoving his hand into his back pocket so that he could pull out a piece of paper to flash at the camera- and his manager who stood behind it. “We’re currently working on baby number two.” 

He watched his manager’s jaw drop as she stared at the sonogram picture, quickly blinking away excited tears. There, in black and white, was a picture of their new baby. “R-Really?” She screamed out excitedly. 

“We’re having a valentines day baby. We wanted to keep it a surprise until now.” 

And after the cameras had been cut and he had been properly scolded by his suddenly emotional manager, Austin found himself eagerly hoping back into his car. 

And just like last year he sped home. Eager to get to his baby boy and his two bestest girls.

@knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

#dolly’s three days of blurbs #foreverdolly #austin butler one shot #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler fluff #daddy!austin butler #dad austin butler #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis baz luhrmann #tooth aching fluff #fluff #imagine #austin x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #reader insert

[dduane]

Hi there! I'm not sure if this is something you've talked about before in another post, but I just finished the first draft of my first novel, and I was wondering if you could talk about what your experience was like getting your first novel edited and published. I have this story that I'm excited about but no idea what to do with it now that I've reached "The End," do you have any advice on what my next step ought to be towards eventually getting it published? Thanks in advance!

First of all: thanks for asking. ...And now I have to warn you that I am possibly one of the worst possible people to ask about what their first novel's publication looked like... as it was completely atypical.

Not that that's going to stop me, mind you. (And you know what? I'm inserting a cut here, because this goes on a bit. Warning: contains [calculated] dissing by old friends, pulp non-fiction, unexpurgated language, unexpected awards nominations, and advice that's worth just what you're paying for it.)

What happened with me and my first book goes like this:...

In the late 1970s I was starting to burn out on psychiatric nursing, and was offered a job as assistant to the novelist and Star Trek ["The Trouble with Tribbles"] writer David Gerrold. I took it happily, as I was in a place in my life where I really needed some kind of change. The work with David was part-time; I also occasionally did special duty nursing shifts to help make ends meet.

Now during this period, I was writing for my own amusement (as I'd been doing all my life from about age eight onward). Right then I was working on a project I'd been tinkering with from my late high school years right through college, nursing school, and my first couple/few years of practice as an RN. This was the background worldbuilding for a vaguely Tolkienesque, somewhere-between-late-Medieval-and-early Renaissance fantasy scenario featuring a couple of moderately unusual magic systems, a sexually diverse culture, and a pair of "These Two Idiots"-style protagonists with complex interleaving problems.

While I was working for David, I had a lot of opportunity to observe, close up, what the life and workflow of a career writer looked like. Slowly, over a year or so, the realization crept up on me that what David was doing, I could do too. And it was at this point that I finally admitted to him that I thought I might want to write as well.

David's (as I later discovered, extremely calculated) eyeroll could probably have been seen from space. "Oy, not another one," he moaned. After which I went away from the abortive conversation pretty much resolved never to speak to him about this again... but also with a single thought filling my brain: You fucking supercilious sonofabitch, I'm going to show you that I'm not just another one.

...I'll never be able to thank him enough for that. Fury can be so motivating. :)

In the aftermath I got busy pulling together my background material with much more focused intent, and beating the most significant parts of it into something that started looking like a plot. It came together with surprising speed and unnerving insistence—one of the very few times in my career when a project, once begun, has simply flung me into the writing chair and insisted that it was the most important thing in my life and needed handling now. And when in the fullness of time David went on vacation, leaving me to house-sit at his place in LA, I immediately started using his very early computer to transcribe my novel's so-far-only-handwritten draft material.

I took what I thought was considerable care to cover my tracks... but not quite enough. On his return from vacation, when he was putting out the trash, David found some of my discarded draft pages, read them, and confronted me (with a certain amount of friendly teasing) about what had been going on. Then he said to me, "What I've seen of this thing doesn't look too bad. Let me see it when you're finished, and if it looks good enough, I'll ask one of my publishers if they want to take a look at it."

So that's what happened. I finished my first draft and a polish of it in about six weeks, and passed it to David. He read it and immediately handed it on to his editors at Dell, who were just starting a fantasy line for which they needed product. Two weeks later, they said they liked the novel and made an offer, which I accepted. Not a vast amount, but respectable enough. So there it was, my first sale: this book. Which then got me nominated two years running for the Astounding Award, and opened the door for the sale and publication of So You Want To Be A Wizard, as well as my earliest Star Trek work and my entry into the animation world.

I remember very little about the editing process, except that it was painless. What was not exactly painless was the book's cover, about which...well, the less said here the better. But the book came out to generally good reviews. So, with this series of events behind it, you can see why as regards first-publication stories, I'm a first-class outlier and should definitely not be counted. (Also to be avoided by new writers if at all possible: the experience of having half their strongly-selling first novel's initial print run pulped in the warehouse* because it was taking up room needed by a new book by a world-famous novelist.) (Whom I have long since forgiven, since it wasn't his fault, and...well, what can you do? Shit happens.)

...Anyway, that's more than enough about me. Now let's talk about you.

My first advice about what to do with the novel you've just finished? Stick it in a drawer (literally or figuratively speaking, whichever suits your case better) and don't look at it for at least a month. Two would be better. You can spend those two months thinking about your next moves... because you need to give those some consideration before you do anything else.

The question that you first need to answer is going to at least partially shape what you do next. And it's this:

Are you seriously considering making a career out of writing?

It's not that it can't be done! Of course it can. But it won't be easy... not at all. Anyone who tells you it will is either just outright lying through their teeth, or trying to sell you something. ...Or both.

Be honest with yourself as you consider this. If you aren't, you may be letting yourself in for considerable pain over a prolonged period... and I'd sooner you were spared that, if you can be. In particular, be clear about the difference between the statements "I want to write" and "I want to be a writer." Often enough people like the sound of the lifestyle and what they see as going with it—the signings, the book tours (physical or virtual), the interviews, the best-seller lists—without any real concept of the grueling, day-to-day, weekends-are-for-other-people, why-am-I-making-less-than-minimum-wage-most-of-the-time labor that underpins it.

If you simply want to write and be published—without the concept of a career necessarily being involved, or the lovely shimmering dreamlike vision of Giving Up The Day Job—you now have work pathways available to you that would've been unimaginable in the previous century. Self-publishing makes it possible for you to get your work in front of many, many eyes without necessarily having to submit yourself to the specific set of trials that go with achieving the initial stages of an intended career. Selfpubbing still has significant unique challenges of its own, of course, which have to be evaluated so that you can tell (as the commercials say) if they're right for you.

But if you're thinking of a career in what's usually being referred to these days as "traditional publishing", then you face a number of challenges that don't necessarily come with the self-publishing end of things. In particular: many publishing houses no longer consider manuscripts that come to them un-agented. So you're going to need to find an agent who's willing to represent your work... and this is a task that no longer looks anything like what it did when I found mine. (Or rather, when he found me, having been recommended to me by one of my editors. I've been with him for even longer than I've been with @petermorwood... and that's saying something. But this is yet another way in which my career's been wildly atypical.)

There is so much that could be said about this subject alone—the business of researching agencies to see which one seems like a good fit for you, the art of writing the perfect query letter to get their attention focused on a given book, and so much more—that I could hardly begin to even skim the surface of it here. There are whole websites devoted to shopping for agents, not to mention how to pitch yourself and your work to a given literary agency.

Let me leave this whole subject here for the moment. We can come back to it another time, because right now you need to be thinking this through. ...This I'll say, however. For the past six to nine months I've been pulling together links to various online resources that can be beneficial to new writers just getting started. These will be available as posts over at the FicFoundry.com site that I'm going to be bringing online before summer. I'm hoping to build that into kind of a compendium site or clearing house for online resources on this subject. We'll see how it goes.

Meanwhile, thanks for inquiring about this. You're standing at the first branching of what I'm hoping will be, for you at least, a fascinating variant of the Choose Your Own Adventure genre. :)

More on this later.

("Wait. Did she just call us idiots??")

*Now that we live in the era of just-in-time warehousing, this is something that fortunately doesn't happen much any more... as far as I know. But once upon a time, if somebody's new best-seller was going to the warehouse in its many thousands of copies, and your relatively-less-well-selling book was taking up space that could be used by the other author's "more valuable"/higher-priced titles, your books (5-10K of them, in my case) were simply thrown into a machine and turned into papery mush. And these go on your sales record as "unsold copies". (sigh) Some discussion of this phenomenon can be found over here.

#advice #writing advice #career stories

[getcardedtarot]

July 2023 Monthly PAC

Welcome back lovelies! This time I've prepared a monthly PAC reading for July. Settle in, relax, and let your intuition guide you as you choose which message you need to hear for the month ahead.

For my monthly readings, I like to go more in depth. In addition to tarot cards, I also pull Lenormand and Oracle cards. The Oracle cards I'm using for this reading are Woodland Wardens, a beautifully cozy deck.

As a disclaimer, my readings are for entertainment only. Your choices are your own.

Pile 1: Tarot: 5 of Cups, 7 of Cups, 6 of Swords, The Magician, 8 of Pentacles, King of Pentacles. Oracle: Deer and Oak, Hawk and Thistle. Lenormand: Bouquet, Sun

I'm feeling a lot of grief and sorrow from you. You're feeling as if you have no options, or the options you do have are all bad. Fortunately I do have good news about July. You need to remember who you are and what you have at your disposal. You're a powerful manifester and the feelings you've been having are an illusion. Look up from your sorrow and see what's still around you. Pick yourself up and dust yourself off. This is a time to take stock of the good things in your life. Take a walk, get lost in nature.

I'm feeling also that you have some sort of craft. There's something you do that you've been working on or should be working on. This is the path to success for you this month. Work diligently at it, protect yourself but also have a keen eye for opportunities to use this gift. The life you desire is at your fingertips but you're letting yourself get caught up in your feelings. Remember who you are and what you're capable of.

As the month goes on you will make the journey through grief, and come out the other side. Take time to heal and nurture yourself. This will give you the energy and motivation you need to manifest the life you desire.

Pile 2: Tarot: The Hierophant, The World, Ace of Swords, The Fool, 7 of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune. Oracle: Opossum and Peony, Frog and Lotus. Lenormand: Heart and Birds

Wow! This is going to be a big month for you! Big things are happening. I'm seeing that you've been sort of laying low, keeping your head down. I'm also seeing that you have something up your sleeve. Some project you've been working on perhaps. I'm seeing that you're very inspired and ready to start with this project, to really get things moving in a big way. You're about to come out of your shell! I'm seeing you take a leap of faith. You're nervous and excited about what this will bring. But the world is at your feet and luck is with you. Your hard work is about to pay off!

You're about to transform into a higher version of yourself. It's time to move on this project you have. Shed the skin of your old self and embrace this change, it will be fruitful. Get yourself ready and take the leap of faith!

Pile 3: Tarot: 8 of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, 6 of Cups, 4 of Pentacles, The Star. Oracle: Marten and Foxglove, Lizard and Pitcher Plant. Lenormand: Key and Snake.

You feel trapped in your past. You're keeping it so close even though it's keeping you stagnant and preventing you from moving on. You want so badly to be free, to move on, you just feel stuck and you're not sure how to get out. There is hope for you. Do something fun and maybe silly for yourself, don't worry about what anyone thinks about it. This should be something special for you. Something you enjoyed as a child maybe.

A new opportunity is going to present itself soon! A job or new financial venture, perhaps. Be spontaneous and go with it! This venture will be the key to beginning to move on.

#tarot #free tarot #tarot readings #free tarot readings #monthly tarot #tarot pick a card #pick a card #pick a card reading #pac #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading

[fkinavocado]

Just did 2,5 hours of garden work and I need DI to come and give me a massage 😭😭 my back is going to be KILLING me later I know it

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

extra / alternatively, read on wattpad

Spanking for good measure (word count: 700)

Harry peeked his head through the window giving you a stern look when you felt his eyes on you and looked up at him "Haven't you been there the whole afternoon?"

You sat back on your heels and brushed the hair out of your face with the back of your gloved hand "Yeah. I suppose I must have"

He pulled back the window curtain and you resumed your work tending to your new garden. You were determined to have this be a success although you knew little to nothing about gardening, but you were a quick learner. It was a passion project of yours that you'd gotten into very randomly, but you spent hours doing diligent research so you were fairly confident it would turn out fine. Hopefully.

You heard Harry head your way so you turned slightly to watch him approach you with a tall glass of what appeared to be lemonade. You realised you hadn't had a sip of water in literal hours and suddenly were feeling quite parched so when he handed it to you, you grabbed it with both hands and started gulping it down "Whoa. Slow down, darling; it's really cold, and you're really hot. Wouldn't want you coming down with laryngitis"

You looked up at him, he was standing tall over you with his hands at his hips, obstructing the sun and providing shade, although the sun had started going down and wasn't burning as harshly anymore "That's not how you get laryngitis"

He exhaled audibly through his nose "Ok, smarty pants. Come on, up you get" his words were lighthearted but his tone wasn't. He seemed quite annoyed with you, actually.

"I'm not done yet" you said after finishing off the glass and handing it back to him. He took your glass and held his other hand outstretched for you

"You've been sitting here all day in the sun, no water, no shade, not even a cap on your head. Have you even thought of putting on spf?"

"I... well, I didn't realise I'd--"

He wiggled his fingers impatiently "Yeah. I thought so. Let's go. The garden isn't going anywhere, It'll still be here tomorrow"

You furrowed your brows and reluctantly took his hand and he pulled you up like you weighed nothing, making you squeal. You lost your footing though, feeling quite lightheaded and he pressed you to his side protectively "I guess I... I might have overdone it a bit"

He slowly walked you to the house, his voice going softer "Should've checked on you. Got caught up with work in my office and didn't realise you'd stayed out there the whole day. What were you thinking, sweetheart? Hm? Come on let's get you on the sofa, I'll make us dinner"

"Not really hungry" you whined "Feeling kinda nauseous actually"

"You better not get sun poisoning or so help me god, Y/N…" his voice was back to being irritated "Honestly... you should know better" he had you sit on the sofa, placed the glass on the coffee table and helped you stretch out, sitting on the edge next to you and checking your forehead for signs of a fever

"Sorry, daddy" you pouted "Was excited and lost track of time... "

"You're like a child sometimes, I swear" he huffed "Bratty little thing" he added, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

You smiled at him and tried stretching a bit, trying to get more comfortable, groaning at how your muscles ached "Ugh, I certainly don't feel like a child. Feel like a bed ridden grandma, I'm sore all over"

"Serves you right" he smushed your cheeks together between his thumb and the rest of his fingers and pecked your pout "I'm cooking dinner and you're gonna eat, like a good girl. And then, if you finish your plate I'll run a bath for us and massage your back. How's that sound?"

You smiled, making him loosen his grip on your cheeks "Sounds like I might be in love with you"

"Hmph. Maybe a little spanking too for good measure then"

Daddy issues- Masterlist

A/N: got carried away 👀 also, sorry(not sorry) for the false advertising in the title mehehehe

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

#harry styles smut #daddy issues #daddy issues extra #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic rec #dilfrry #dadrry #dilf harry styles #daddy harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles prompt #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #harry styles blurb #daddyissuesblurb

[pagodazz]

VINVAN HCS!! that NO ONE ASKED FOR!!!

@freezingmcxn

THESE TWO ARE ABSOLUTELY MY EVERYTHING. like. Absolutely top two favorite characters. I know I talk about Vinnie and HABIT quite a bit but I assure you, I love Evan and Vinnie more.

These two are so perfect for each other and they fit so well, like a puzzle piece clicking together.

They're always gonna be together and there for each other in every single universe. in every single life. It's always gonna be them two. They'll always be the last two to remain.

Their souls are just intertwined together, and they'll always find each other.

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

While Vinnie was locked up in the apartment, Evan showed up, and he stayed there for a little while. Vinnie says that Evan stayed on the couch, but I know that is absolutely UNTRUE.

I think Vinnie let Evan inside, instantly checking him over for any wounds, more panicked than excited to see his friend. It would only be when Evan grabs his hands and makes him stop, that'd he finally remember to be relieved that it's Evan he's touching.

Evan would pull him into his arms, hugging him tighter than he EVER has before, pushing his face into his neck, breathing him in. Vinnie is the only thing he has left, the only real thing Evan has and he's so fucking thankful for that. Normally he wouldn't cry, but he's just so happy to see that vinnie is okay.

Vinnie would take a minute to hug back, his mind running too slow for it's own good. But once he had his arms around Evan he's squeezing him in his arms like a snake constricting it's prey.

They'd stand there for way too long, but once they pulled apart Evan would point to Vinnies septum piercing, and Vinnie would get embarrassed, because he knows he seems like the last person to get one, if you didn't know him right.

But Evan would just smile at him and tell him it looks good, that he looks good.

Evan would end up taking a hot shower, and probably end up having to wear some of Vinnie's clothes, and Vinnie would make them both dinner with whatever he had left.

Neither of them would bring up anything of the things they've gone through. It's not that they aren't AWARE. it's just that they both know this is going to be the only time they get to pretend that they have normal lives again.

Then after awhile, Vinnie would catch Evan up on everything, and then Vinnie would offer up the bed and Evan would shake his head and say he'd rather not be alone anymore, and Vinnie couldn't agree more. they would lay in bed holding each other, nothing any more than that happening, and Evan would have his head against Vinnie's chest, counting every beat until he falls asleep, meanwhile Vinnie has his hand in Evans hair, thinking about all his secrets that Evan doesn't know.

He could never tell Evan about the things he's done, he doesn't want Evan to stop loving him, he can't risk that. Evan is all he's ever needed.

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

Evan is cis(??? honestly his gender is. not binary but it's not exactly. non binary. HES SO WEIRD.) and bisexual.

Vinnie is FTM and gay/maybe also bi... (I get sad about him and Lexi sometimes) (also YES I'm projecting. I'm ALLOWED)

I think that Evan is alot more open and proud of himself than Vinnie is, he's not like obnoxious over his sexuality of course, but he isn't afraid of it.

Vinnie however gets really in his head over it, Probably having alot to do with his religious trauma (every iteration of Vinnie has it), He'll probably wonder if he's "man" enough, but Evan is always very quick to remind him just how "man" he thinks he Vinnie is.

I think that Evan would give Vinnie his T-shots and he would tell Vinnie to stop being a baby about it and Vinnie would just be gripping onto Evans arm until his knuckles turn white. Evan doesn't mind at all, if anything gives him the perfect opportunity to flex his arms so Vinnie can feel his muscles.

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

they YEARN for each other. they are a SLOW BURN GUYS!!!!!

It's only when they're left with just each other that they're forced to deal with their feelings for each other.

and I don't even think that they would talk about their feelings, they'd probably get really frustrated with each other, probably over Evan having yet another suicidal plan, and then Vinnie would just grab Evan and kiss him and the dam holding back their years of forgotten love would just immediately break. they wouldn't even have to say I love you, because this was already enough.

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

Evan is Vinnie's muse, he's always filming him and making sure he's the center of attention. Even through Vinnie's eyes Evan is this great hero, even when it's not Evan anymore, and it's HABIT. Vinnie still adores that vessel. Vinnie can play pretend.

Vinnie is Evans all. his everything. his only. his life. especially after he loses everything else. He NEEDS Vinnie, Vinnie has always been there, Vinnie has never lied, Vinnie never lead him astray (even tho that's all Vinnie did), Vinnie always took care of Evan, and Evan wants to do the same.

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

IM!!! NOT NORMAL!! OVER THEMMMM.

#everymanhybrid #slenderverse #emh #vinny everyman #vinnie everyman #evan myers #vinvan #hcs #my hcs #🐍 ⦻ #ethan rants 🐍 #Spotify

[bismuth-209]

what i want to play in Solo But Not Alone 4

So, there's a charity bundle on itch.io right now, Solo But Not Alone 4 is a bundle of 125 solo ttrpg-type games.

By ttrpg-type I mean that they aren't played on the computer, they usually have pdfs to download and then you need to bring the things like playing cards, tarot cards, dice and something to write with yourself (and very occasionally a jenga tower). They're usually rather focused on journaling.

If you want to know which games need which supplies, or what genres the games are, there's a handy dandy spreadsheet you can get here.

now, I've not really played any of the games yet, but there's ones I really want to play, and maybe I can make some of you excited enough to buy the bundle and support the charity Take This too. Take This is a non-profit to benefit mental health in the gaming community, but a little look on their website gives me the idea that their resources are useful broader as well, for example they have links to mental health resources for particular ethnic groups. It does seem pretty English-speaking country centric, but still a worthy charity to support I think.

without further ado! the games

Project ECCO is a game you play in a PLANNER. I've scrounged up an old planner I barely used and I'll be using it to play this game. It's a time travel game and you write your answers to the prompts on the pages of the planner you've "travelled" to. There's different ways to "travel through time" in the game, so you use dice, playing cards, tarot cards and a coin to determine what day you're writing on and what prompt you're fulfilling. I like the variety in methods, and i like that i'll be having limited space to write (although it's VERY little on the weekends. we'll see what i can manage on 3 lines)

If you want to play just this game you should definitely buy the bundle, it's usually 15 USD, while the bundle is just 10.

Corporate Onboarding is here mostly because of the formatting, I'll admit. But the formatting is so cool! It's AVAILABLE AS A POWERPOINT FILE. Also pdf, handy if you don't have the ms office suite. It fits on just 19 slides, but it claims that the average session is about an hour, which sounds about right. It doesn't have a lot of introspection far as I can tell, you need to find all your bosses to report to them without going over 5 warnings, and you have some stats for your character and all that.

Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop is another game worth getting the whole bundle for, normally 16 USD and it does seem worth that.

The game has such cool worldbuilding, you've got different towns and seasons and events throughout the year. I can see myself dedicating a whole notebook to this. And it's got a beautiful pdf (that's kind of formatted for print, but the print book's sold out). Also a fishing mini game you play by dealing a deck of cards.

5 act play is a game that gives you some guidance for the plotting of a play. It uses tarot, but also gives an alternative using dice and playing cards. It really USES tarot, you are expected to have a guidebook or look one up for the meanings of the cards and use them to inform characters and themes, but it does have tables for what you do with some of the cards. It's Shakespeare inspired, using examples from Much Ado and Romeo and Juliet to help you, and you're expected to write a tragedy or a comedy.

The Peace Engine is a game you use a jenga tower to play, which I don't currently have access to, but it looks incredible and I'm considering asking around if I can borrow one. You have to pull bricks from the tower when your scientist gains "burnout" and if your tower falls you fail. It has a complex system and it seems very cool.

Again a game more expensive on its own, so get it in the bundle!

Glyph is a sort of guide where you make sigils, it has a beautiful pdf as well. I like the method it provides. It recommends to be used for enrichment of other games, or just as a fun creative exercise

This bundle runs until the 9th of March 2024!

#solo but not alone 4 #itch.io #itch io charity bundle #game recommendations #game recs #solo ttrpg #solo journaling rpg #solo rpg #the peace engine #fox curio's floating bookshop #game sale #bis speaks #indie ttrpgs #indie games #indie rpg

[system-of-a-feather]

BTW we are basically seeing if we can sue our employer for wrongful termination down the line cause they fucked up and decided to pull a scummy move to save what would be at most $600 when we were already planning on resigning amicably

And like its not a huge deal if it goes through or not and Im not in it for the money or doing it for the money cause idc really since I was planning on resigning anyways and it just means I qualify for unemployment while I'm out of a job which makes up for it

I'm just doing it on principle and out of spite. Spite cause it was a personally scummy move. Principle cause on a political, economic, social level, I really don't like people pulling ableist and capitalist moves that undermines workers rights.

They literally did the worst look, worst play to someone who is going to be put out on medical disability for a month who is a workaholic and needs 40 projects to juggle and was raised by an S Tier Karen in the art of stressing capitalists out.

I got a month of a whole lotta nothing to do for a while and thus a whole lotta time to invest into a passive game of "Im reporting this to HR, The Union, Disability Advocacy Centers, and Low Income Legal Aid groups cause I literally wont have anything better to do and even with it Id still be bored."

Its honestly a really dumb play and I'm going to have fun seeking advice from lawyers and unions and what not to see the full level of which I can either demand compensation or just give them a hard time

And at the very least, make sure that HR knows about the toxic environment and gets on their ass to fix it cause I do feel bad that I left the one person who really supported me down there with one ally and three people I know talk shit about her constantly

Dear Boss,

You fucked up and fuck you in a professional legal manner.

Sincerely,

Worker and Disabled People's Rights

((Btw we actually took a chemistry professors job in our undergrad cause he was an ableist dickhead so its not our first rodeo complaining professionally to a californian university about injust behaviors and actions among their faculty and staff. That is still THE highlight of my undergraduate experience.)

Anyways, the XIV part of our brain whose whole function as a part is to shake shit up and destroy things that he sees as corrupt is so excited to have a project to do while we recover along side my TTRPG and Art stuff.

#alter: fei #alter: xiv #<- very heavy xiv dominance in this fused state #ableism #union #unions #lawsuit saga? #lawsuit saga #technically not but I like that tag

[moosemonstrous]

So much has built up in the last few days since I started writing this bit that there are parts I'll need to change, but I'm being very brave and not doing proper edits or it will never get posted 😂

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - Beastie Riders

(insert The Distance by All Good Things. Or Cake. Pick your favourite version!)

Robbie doesn't want to be having fun.

He's still beat from training earlier in the day - Brooks seems convinced he's found a way to cheat his systems and had him repeat every course, twice. The muscles in his legs still shake a little every time he stops moving for longer than a few seconds. That isn't much of an issue, though, because the music in the arena thrums through his body like the relay gel through suit circuitry. Between that, the UV lights revealing the intricate paint and tattoos over everyone's skin - there is a lot more exposed skin here than he's used to - and the sheer amount of people, he doesn't know what to pay attention to. He feels like a kid in a toy shop. He definitely can't afford anything on sale, but--

He's about to watch demons tear each other apart for sport. It shouldn't be exciting.

You don't unclench even for a second, huh.

It's much easier to ignore the voice in all this noise. Cho grins at him - or at least he hopes that's Cho, his face lit up in green strokes he can't follow for very long without getting a bit dizzy. His arms are glowing, too, even though he didn't put any paint on them - he didn't strike Robbie as someone who would get tattoos. Shows what he knows. Cho says something Robbie can't hear over the music and pulls him by the arm through the crowd, closer to the edge of the viewing platform. People who don't want to make way get elbowed aside. It's honestly a minor miracle nobody knocks his teeth out.

Cho has his phone out, and what looks like a bank app open. No, it's betting. There's an app to bet on the fight, because of course there is. Cho points to the edge of the square space below, still talking.

"I can't--" Robbie sighs, and lets himself be pulled down to a talk-into-ear level.

"I said we're really damn lucky!" Cho shouts. "It's Sister Grimm versus Ghost Rider!"

Robbie has no idea what either of those names mean, but judging by the numbers ticking up on the app, they're pretty popular. Racing never brought in this much money. It could be something to look into, when the whole jaeger business inevitably blows up in his face. Provided Robbie doesn't blow up right along with it, that is.

He listens out, but the voice either doesn't have a comment, or is too quiet to make out in the growing racket in the arena. Suddenly, all the lights go out, leaving only the glow of the tattoos and a single red beam pointing to the stage in the middle of the arena.

A projection of a tall man in a white suit appears to the general approval of the crowd. He speaks in Cantonese, so Robbie has no clue what he's actually saying, but he can pick it up from context - the fight is about to begin.

"That's Sister Grimm!" Cho elbows him to look to stage left, where a young Asian woman wearing mostly just paint strikes a pose to the beat of the music. She blows a kiss to the man in the white suit, who mimes fainting before picking up his mic to introduce the other fighter.

Some of Robbie’s unease returns at the sight of the Ghost Rider. He's wearing what seems to be a heavily modified drivesuit - it's covered in all manner of studs and spikes, the spinal clasp made to look like it's partially ripped out. What's visible of his skin is painted black to better contrast the skull-like tattoos across his face, like the bones are breaking through to the surface. He has enough metal in his face to build a tank out of, and when the cameras zoom in, Robbie spots a series of painful-looking subdermal implants along his cheekbones.

"He's big back home!" Cho tells him. "I didn't know he even left the continent!"

Wait a second. Not too quiet, then. Wait a goddamn second, it can't be--

Both riders step closer to the fighting pit. The crowd quiets down, and so does the music. The white suit dissolves into a cloud of sparkles. The riders' respective teams are a flurry of well-rehearsed chaos behind them, their gear looking nearly as complicated as anything on the LOCCENT bridge back at the base.

He hears the growl first. It's low, the reverberation standing up every hair on Robbie’s neck. Not quite like facing a Cat 4 - he doesn't think anything quite compares to having The Charger's head locked in the jaws of a monster the size of a skyscraper - but the primal fear it evokes is familiar. The dark shape slithering out from under Sister Grimm's stage reminds him of a bird stuck in an oil spill, its long arms connected to its body with leathery membranes. It drags itself to the middle of the ring and gives out a guttural roar.

The response to the call is instantaneous - the other demon rips into the pit like it was clawing at the gate to be let out and stands on two of it's six legs to scream. It's a chilingly human sound. It looks skeletal and thoroughly alien, like no animal Robbie has ever seen, and he can't tell whether the orange glow on it's hide is paint or something natural.

"He hasn't lost a fight in four years!" Cho yells into his ear. Robbie can believe that. As the demons circle each other in the ring, Sister Grimm looks determined, focused. Ghost Rider seems to barely be paying attention. His demon is similarly distracted, eyeing the crowd above it like it's planning out its dinner.

No, it's the fucking Corinthian Maneuver! The voice groans. He's even doing that stupid half-turn-- What are those idiots in the academy even teaching you?

Robbie really, really hates it when the voice says something he has no way of knowing about. Corinthian sounds vaguely biblical, though, so maybe it's--

Hydra. Hydra Corinthian. It used to run point on... The voice sighs like Robbie is it's single greatest disappointment. Never-fucking-mind, watch the fight.

Sister Grimm attacks first, the monster's claws swiping out with deadly speed, but despite the appearances Ghost Rider is ready - his demon dodges out of the way and up the wall, bouncing off it to land a heavy hit on its opponent's trunk. It doesn't follow up - it backs up and waits for the bird to right itself. At first, Robbie thinks it's some weird sort of sportsmanship, a way to prolong the fight. He's right on the latter, but it quickly becomes obvious sportsmanship has nothing to do with this fight.

Sister Grimm barely manages to get a hit in - Ghost Rider is too fast, slinking under the wing-like arms and taking nips out of the oily hide like he isn't even interested in making them count. He's playing with his food.

Robbie doesn't know how to feel about that. Logically, he recognises he's watching a mostly-illegal pit brawl in the shadiest part of the Bone Slums. It's probably rigged. He's probably the only person in the whole arena not to know how the fight will end, and the combined unfairness of it all starts to simmer low in his chest. When he looks at Cho, though, he's practically hanging over the railing of the platform to get a better view at where Sister Grimm just manages to snag a claw between Ghost Rider's bony ribs. He looks to Robbie with a huge grin on his face before pulling him down to shout: "They're using jaeger tactics! Can you imagine Ivanov's face if he hears about it?!"

And, well, that is a pretty good image to tuck away for the next time the Colonel has an opinion on The Charger's deployment position. Not that he ever will hear about it - not from Robbie, at the very least.

Down in the pit, Sister Grimm has Ghost Rider in a headlock. Both beasts are bleeding from shallow wounds, the black substance oozing out and down onto the concrete. Lesser demons don't excrete corruption like their larger counterparts, but the sight still makes him back away from the barrier.

Don't be a fucking baby, the voice chides. Even the nerd has more balls than you.

The nerd doesn't get sprayed with it on the regular, Robbie thinks sullenly.

Neither do you. Your pod is like a goddamn armored egg now, back in the day we had sea water coming through the vents--oooh, look at that!

Sister Grimm swiped the legs out from under the Ghost Rider with it's wing, and has the beast pinned. The bird creature's beak opens so wide it almost unhinges, and the other monster appears to have given up. Everyone seems to hold their breath at once, but when Robbie looks to its master, the man is smiling, his orange teeth-tattoos stretching with it in a very unsettling manner.

Just as the beak is about to snap shut on his beast's neck, its middle legs--pop out of sockets. The suddenly elongated limbs wrap around the bird's neck and twist, and Sister Grimm screams in agony as her demon drops down, dead. The crowd explodes, people all around Robbie yelling and stomping their feet as once again the music rises to it's previous levels.

"How--!" Robbie has to hold onto Cho's shirt before he topples over the barrier. "Did you see that?!"

Ghost Rider whoops, turning to high-five one of his techs while his beast heaves the corpse off of itself and runs a victorious lap around the ring. It scales its walls nearly to the barrier, snapping at the audience's outstretched hands.

Fucking show-off, the voice grumbles, and Robbie can't help but snort in laughter. Showing off seems well deserved at this point. The man in the white suit reappears on the Rider’s side of the stage, lifting up his arm in victory. He's saying something, but Cho is already dragging Robbie away and down the rickety stairs to pit level.

"Wait, where--?" Robbie doesn't have to resist very hard for Cho to have to pause in his attempted kidnapping. He looks over his shoulder, betrayed. "Where are you going?"

Cho nearly jumps up and down in place, impatient. "Are you kidding me we're going to have a look at that beastie if I have to break into it's paddock!" he exclaims and sprints off, and-- God damn it. This is exactly why Robbie has been reluctant to come.

#Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU #Is this anything or am I just desperate to not be writing this bit anymore 😂 #Also feel bad for making it Nico it will need to be changed later #Unless Robbie meets her at her day job later or something idk #robbie reyes #Amadeus Cho #Eli Morrow #Johnny Blaze #Hey Robbie I'm trying to write you having fun can you bloody cooperate