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awesumsaus · 4 months

Text

cave

wc: 6.5k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

part two of pretty when I cry

summary: Ever the man of his word, your boyfriend Joel finally fulfills your need to have him claim that secret little part of you.

a/n: welcome back besties. thank you so much to everyone that checked out part one, I seriously can’t believe the response it’s gotten. again please heed the warnings and skip of you don’t think this is for you. otherwise hope y’all enjoy my absolutely depraved writing

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, very needy/emotional reader, joel can pick reader up (I’m convinced this man could lift anyone), smut smut smut literal porn (ok a TINY bit of plot), established relationship, age gap (not really mentioned in this one), so much daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, tiny bit of degradation kink, whole lot of praise kink, joel tummy™️, spanking, unprotected pinv, oral (m receiving), plug use, ass eating (brief), anal sex, subspace, joel is still a consent king, fluffy aftercare (these bitches are in love)

It wasn’t until two weeks later that either of you brought it up. You’d been thinking about it, that morning, admittedly far too often. The way his fingers and tongue explored the very hidden spots of your body, pushed the limit of what you can and can’t handle. But you couldn’t ask him, couldn’t be the first one to bring it up. It was the game the two of you played, you being far too shy to voice this filthy little need, and Joel far too teasing to give it up without you asking.

But it was becoming unbearable, thoughts of him arising at the most inopportune times, whether that be when you were laying in bed at home, alone while Joel was working a double shift, or at work when there were millions of other tasks you should be focusing on, but all you could think about was your boyfriend finally claiming that secret little part of you.

And so tonight you’d decided to put an end to your suffering, devising your own little plan to set things in motion, one that you were comfortable with, and that you knew Joel wouldn’t object to.

The two of you were getting ready, having made plans to meet Joel’s brother for dinner at 7. It was already 6:30 by the time you finished your hair, still dressed in nothing but one of Joel’s t-shirts and a lacy thong. Usually, your lateness was just a result of you losing track of time, trying to tame flyaways, or pausing to belt out one of the songs that came up on your playlist. Little did Joel know that this time around you were stalling, working up the courage to present him with your latest purchase.

You glance over to the open vanity drawer, and a tinge of excitement spreads up your spine when you see it. A small thing, silver all except for the red heart-shaped jewel at the end of it. You reach for it, the metal cold against your fingertips, a contrast to the heat that spreads up your neck at the thought of what comes next.

Running your hands through your hair one last time, you exit the bathroom to see Joel, fully dressed and rummaging through one of his dresser drawers. The way the fabric of his dark green sweater stretches around his broad shoulders makes your stomach flip.

You pad over to him, hands held behind your back, clearing your throat and he turns. He immediately registers the hesitance in your movements. “I um- I got you something.” You look up at him through your lashes, putting on your most innocent guise.

“S’ that right?” He quirks an eyebrow, already holding back a smirk. His focus turns to his wrist, snapping in place the silver band of the watch you’d gifted him this past Christmas. It was a simple thing, nothing too fancy. You would’ve gotten him something nicer, something more high-end, but the year-end bonus you’d been hoping for never came. Still, Joel insisted that it was the greatest gift he’d ever been given, bullshit, but it still put a smile on your face whenever he wore it.

“You promise you won’t laugh?” His smirk widens.

“Why would I laugh?”

“Just promise!” You frown at him before giving his chest a little shove, but he’s quick to respond, grabbing your wrist and pulling, closing the space between you.

“Promise.” You say it softer this time, looking up at him, ignoring the way your thighs instinctively clench from how far you have to bend your neck just to meet his gaze.

“I promise.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, his expression softening. “I won’t laugh.”

And he doesn’t. In fact, his smirk falls completely when you reveal what’s in your free hand, extending your palm to him. He takes it from you, turning it over in his fingers, something darkens in his eyes.

“Dirty little girl,” he says under his breath, his attention still focused on the small metal plug in his hand. He turns away from you for only a moment to grab his phone from the dresser.

“What are you doing?”

“Textin’ Tommy that we’re gonna be late,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“No wait, I’ll be quick. I’m almost ready-“

“Uh-uh, baby.” He takes exacting steps towards you, forcing you to retreat backward, nearly falling over when your calves meet the edge of his bed. “Not goin’ anywhere yet.” He swiftly turns you, manhandling you against his chest, and dips his mouth to your ear. “Bend over.”

A shiver runs down your spine, yet you can’t ignore the heat continuing to spread across your face. “R-right now? Joel, are you serious?”

“You bet I am.” His hand comes down with a firm slap to your ass and you gasp, the arm he’s looped around your midsection keeping you from falling forward onto the bed. Wet drips from your core when he does the same to the other side. “Thought you were gonna get away with this, baby? F’ you’re gonna act like a fucking whore, I’m gonna treat you like one. Bend over.”

You shudder slightly at his words, but do as he says, slowly lowering your upper half, whining when he pushes you the last few inches, your brain already gone fuzzy from the roughness of his movements. A part of you expected this, knew that Joel wouldn’t accept your gift and just move on with the rest of the night. So it’s no surprise that when he pulls your thong to the side, your pussy is already glistening with slick.

“Jesus, baby,” he lets out a breath behind you, running his knuckles along your seam making you shiver. “Always so fucking wet, so ready f’ me.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you sigh against the mattress, rocking your lower half back, seeking friction.

Joel lets out a strangled grunt from behind you, one hand squeezing your ass cheek. It’s taking everything in him not to ruin you right then and there, but he restrains himself, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t make it out the front door if he gave in.

You suck in a breath when the cold metal presses against your cunt, slipping through your folds with ease, gathering slick. “Gonna be able to behave yourself at dinner, baby? Don’t want Tommy gettin’ suspicious.”

You whimper slightly as the tip presses into the cleft of your ass, squirming at the action and the almost belittling tone of his voice. “Don’t want him to know how much of a goddamn slut you are for me, huh?” He delivers another stinging slap just as the plug breaches your tight hole. “Answer me.”

“I-I’ll behave!” The words tumble from your mouth. “I’ll be good, daddy- p-promise.”

“I know, baby. Always such a good girl f’ me.” His words are so dizzying you don’t even realize that he’s fitted the plug completely inside of you until his knuckles graze your ass. It’s not what you had expected, not painful or uncomfortable in any way. It feels good, being this full, the slight stretch making your lower half shake with anticipation.

“That feel okay, pretty girl?” His voice softens the same way it always does when he’s checking in with you.

“Mhm,” you nod against the mattress, a content smile spread across your face.

“Good. Now go get dressed ‘fore Tommy starts askin’ questions.”

He plants one last slap on your bottom, softer than the others, but the way it reverberates across your skin and through the toy now deep inside you makes you gasp, your senses now on high alert. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

You make it through the better part of dinner without any slip-ups, just a regular evening with your boyfriend and his brother who you’ve come to befriend over your time knowing him.

You’re barely paying attention, focused on the story Tommy is telling when Joel curves a finger through the back loop of your jeans and pulls. You choke on your water at the sudden feeling, the seam of your jeans digging into you, pressing tightly against the toy you’d nearly forgotten about at this point. Something white-hot shoots up your spine and settles in your lower belly. Tommy pauses and shoots you a worried look as you cough unexpectedly, obviously unaware of Joel’s actions. You notice Joel holding back a smirk from the corner of your eye.

“Woah- hey, ya alright darlin’?” Tommy asks, looking to Joel who’s started patting your back softly, a forced expression of concern written across his features. It takes everything in you not to slap the look right off his face then and there.

“I’m fine, yeah- sorry.” You try to ignore the obvious blush spreading across your cheeks, still attempting to catch your breath while also fighting against the growing heat pulsing through your core.

“You sure, honey? You’re all flushed,” Joel says.

“Said I’m fine,” you almost snap at Joel, immediately regretting your tone when he shoots you a warning look, a brow raised as if daring you to continue.

“Sorry, Tommy.” You turn to the younger Miller, disregarding the way Joel’s palm has started kneading the flesh of your lower back, only making your head spin more. “Please go on. I’m alright.” He looks between the two of you a bit hesitantly for only a moment before continuing his story.

And suddenly it’s all you can think about, the feeling of the plug pressing into your most sensitive spots, the fullness of it all, only made worse by Joel’s continuous teasing, his seemingly harmless touching.

When you finally make it to Joel’s truck after bidding Tommy goodnight, you’re an absolute mess. Practically soaked through your panties, squirming against the leather of your seat. And Joel knows, revels in it, confirmed by the shit-eating grin he exhibits the entire ride home, while his hand softly grips the plushness of your thigh, only deepening your need.

You’re on him as soon as you pass the threshold of his front door, clawing at his chest, a rabid little thing. He appeases you almost instinctively, pushing you against the opposite wall and pinning your wrists by your head as he roughly presses his mouth to yours. You writhe against his grip, whimpering when he takes his free hand to angle your jaw upward, giving his tongue access to plunge deep into your mouth. You hook a leg around his waist, grinding against his thigh, and finally, a tiny ounce of your ache dissipates.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel removes himself from you, turning away and walking into the living room. He plops down on the couch, kicking his shoes off and leaning back against the cushions. The look on his face is maddening, cocky son of a bitch.

“C’mere,” he says from his seat on the couch, his legs spread wide. If you weren’t so painfully desperate you’d refuse him for being so smug, but luckily for Joel, you need him about as much as you need air to breathe in this moment.

You can’t help but eye the growing tightness in his jeans as you approach him, the sight making you a little dizzy in your movements. He stops you when you attempt to straddle him, placing a hand firmly on your lower belly, and looking up at you with a devilish smile. He toys with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. Off. It’s all the command you need before crossing your arms over your body and lifting the fabric from your torso.

Your shirt’s not even pulled over your head before his deft fingers are unbuttoning your pants and tugging them along with your panties down to your ankles. He leans forward, gripping your calf, and helps you step out of them, popping your shoes off in the process, and quickly tosses your clothes aside. His hand travels up your leg, sending goosebumps across your bare skin. A small yelp escapes your lips when he pulls you onto his lap by the back of your thigh, but you quickly melt into him as your knees sink into the couch on either side of him.

He runs his hands up and down your sides and you shiver. “So sensitive, baby,” he tsks. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks from your desperation. It was pathetic really, how much you need him in this moment, how much your body craved even his lightest touch. It was pathetic really, how much of your need now dripped onto his still-clothed crotch, soaking through the material.

His hands move to cup your tits, thumbing your already peaked nipples through the thin fabric before expertly unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You’re suddenly all too aware of how clothed Joel is, a stark contrast to your naked form, yet the image sends another wave of slick weeping from your core. You allow your head to fall forward onto his shoulder, mouthing at his sweater to muffle your cries, when he tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers.

“Sh, I know. I’ve got you, little one.” He continues his slow torment, smoothing his hands along your bare skin, his smirk growing with each of your whines and whimpers. You’re like putty in his hands, completely at his mercy, a plaything for him to do with what he pleases. Your breath hitches when his hands travel to your ass, two of his fingers pressing lightly against the now exposed plug, sending a jolt through your whole body.

He brings his mouth to your ear, nips at it, before whispering “You want me to fuck you here, baby?“ He says it like a secret, only for the two of you to ever hear. That’s when everything starts to ache, the feeling in your lower belly so warm and unfurling, that you fear you may start sobbing if he doesn’t end his teasing soon.

“Please, daddy.” You sniffle into the spot connecting his neck and shoulder. “Want it so bad, please.”

“Such good manners, baby.” One of his hands slides up your back to the nape of your neck where he grips you, pulling you back to meet his gaze. “M’ gonna give you what you want, sweet girl.” Your heart rate quickens, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“But not tonight.”

And just like that your heart sinks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at his sudden declination. You’d feel foolish for it, overly emotional if it wasn’t Joel’s lap you were sitting on. He knows how you get, how reactive you can be, especially when you have your heart set on something. You shake your head and lean away from him, your eyes casting down to your lap, shame beginning to bubble in your chest. You have the sudden urge to cover yourself, wrapping your arms around your chest, a little voice in the back of your head telling you that it’s your fault, that you’d done something wrong to make him deny you, deny himself, of this.

“Hey,” he says it so so softly. His hands run up and down your biceps, as if he’s attempting to pull your focus from the insecurities he knows are settling in your brain “I’m not doing this to punish you, understand?” You sniffle again, a tear threatens to fall from your lower lashes.

“Look at me,” he says sternly. You reluctantly meet his gaze. “Tell me you understand.”

You want to shake your head no, want to beg him to change his mind, whine and pout until he gives you what you want, but as much as you know Joel’s a man of his word, you also know he’s nearly impossible to sway once his mind is made up.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

He gives you a moment to collect yourself, thumbing your tears away and pulling you back against his chest. You unwrap your arms from yourself, instead latching them around Joel’s neck. “I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. Just gotta have some patience. Want this to be good for you.” He rubs your back soothingly, kissing your temple. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You can’t help the huff that escapes your lips at his words, because you like the hurt. Like being subject to his each and every desire, surrendered entirely to his control. Joel knows this, knew this from the first time you’d slipped and called him daddy while he fucked you into his kitchen counter, knew this when the next morning he caught you in his bathroom mirror, smiling at the finger-shaped bruises burgeoning across the flesh of your hips.

Joel knows you like the hurt, and part of him can’t deny how utterly irresistible he finds you when you beg him to push just a little further, to be a little rougher. But he also knows where to draw the line, never inflicting enough pain to outweigh the pleasure he brings you. He’s had experience with establishing this limit, but never in past relationships had he found anyone to be as persistent as you, as stubborn, as needy. And though it isn’t always obvious, he needs you just the same. It’s what frustrates him the most, not your neediness, but the way in which it clouds his judgement, makes him forget how fragile you can be. So he wouldn’t, not tonight, not until he’s certain you won’t break.

“Poor baby,” he coos when you grind down on his bulge, the rough fabric against your soft folds making you gasp. “I know you’re not used to being told no, huh?”

You let out a squeaking whine when you feel the rough skin of his hand cup the entirety of your sex. You instinctively buck into his touch.

“You want daddy to take care ‘a this for you?”

“Mhm, please,” nodding your head against his chest. You almost cry when the pad of his finger finds your clit, swiping two delicate circles before pulling away.

“Sh sh, I’ve got you, honey.” He lifts you slightly off his lap, a strangled sound erupting from your throat at the loss of contact, but he makes quick work with his zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his fully hardened cock, red and pulsing in his grip.

“Come sit on daddy’s cock, baby.” His eyes glass over as he pumps his length once, twice before urging you forward. He taps the wide tip against your clit a few times and you swear you could come just from that before he’s lining up with your entrance, coating himself with your slick.

He lets you go at your own pace, loosening his grip on your waist as you begin to sink down on him, inch by inch. He’d usually stretch you first, make you come around his fingers once or twice before letting you take him in his entirety. But not tonight, not with the steady flow of slick that’s been gushing from your heat all night.

You shudder once he’s fully sheathed inside you, your clit twitching against his pelvis. He lets you adjust, squirm a bit in his lap, before he’s bucking up into you, a bit of his own impatience beginning to show.

As much as you’ve needed Joel all night, you know his teasing has had its own effect on him. He’s been itching to be inside you since the moment you presented him with your little gift, it was all he could think about the entire evening, so it comes as no surprise that his movements quickly grow hurried. He fucks up into you at a frantic pace, meeting your little bounces with increasing force.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The combination of his cock pumping deep inside you and the toy sitting snug inside your asshole. It’s overwhelming, nerve endings you didn’t even know existed now buzzing within you. It’s only mere minutes before you’re clenching around him, right on the edge of release.

“Little cunt’s huggin’ me so tight, baby,” Joel pants, his movements stuttering.

“Daddy-“ you gasp, “m’ ngh m’ gonna cum.”

“Fuck- that’s it baby,” he babbles, his fingers move to messily rub your clit. “That’s it pretty girl. Want you to cum on my cock then I’ll fill you up, yeah? So fucking full, baby. C’mon, cum for daddy.”

Your entire body convulses against him as you reach your peak, strings of curses and incoherent sounds slipping between your lips. Everything turns white behind your eyes, every inch of your skin on fire. He only fucks you harder, rubs his fingers against your clit faster. You don’t even realize you’re on the cusp of a second orgasm until he’s pressing his free hand against the heart-shaped jewel still sticking out of your ass, hitting something deep inside of you. Then you’re crashing down once more, sobbing as your grip tightens around his neck, completely enraptured in the feeling as he fucks up into you.

“Good fuckin’ girl-“ a groan sounds from deep within his chest, a few more bucks of his hips before he cums, spilling into you with a slew of grunts and unintelligible praises. He only lets up once you’ve milked him dry, a combination of both your releases coating his length and further soaking his jeans.

Joel comes back to earth first after he’s caught his breath and carefully pulled out of you. He stands and rids himself of his damp clothes, now just as bare you are, before wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you from the couch.

Later, after you’re both showered and Joel makes you a cup of your favorite tea, the two of you lay in bed, your head resting against his chest, tracing a finger along the broad expanse of him. You’ve committed just about every mark and freckle to memory by now from this exact spot. His hand lazily runs up and down your spine, as you mull over where things will go from here.

A week. You talked him into a week. A week of doing exactly as he says, with no attempting to convince him otherwise. You’ll wear the plug when he tells you to, for as long as he tells you to. A week and then he’ll divulge that secret little part of you that he’s yet to claim.

Joel lasts till Thursday.

He’s done for the moment he arrives home from work to you sprawled across his bed, book in hand, with nothing on but a tight-fitting t-shirt and a barely-there thong. You knew what you were doing, knew it was exactly what Joel told you not to do, tempting him to go back on his word and cave. You notice his eyes darken the moment he enters the bedroom, his gaze falling to the red heart poking through the fabric of your panties. The same one he stuffed inside you before sending you off to work this morning, the one you were sorely reminded of every time you shifted too quickly in your desk chair.

“Hey baby,” you smile sweetly at him. You swear you hear him grumble as he makes his way to the closet, pulling his sweaty work shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. You mark your page and set your book aside before stretching out across the comforter like a cat in the sun. The muscles in Joel’s shoulders tense when a soft sigh slips from your lips.

You nearly skip over to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection before he has the chance to pull on a clean shirt. He lets out a heavy breath at the feeling of your small fingers splaying across his bare stomach.

“How was your day?” you ask, pressing against him more firmly, your head resting below his shoulder blades.

“Fine,” he responds, his tone suspecting. You feel his breath catch as you press small kisses to his spine.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today,” your voice goes softer, a hidden plea behind your words.

“S’ that right?” His severity wanes, an opening.

“Mhm,” you hum against him, dragging your blunt nails across his skin. “Need you so bad, Daddy.”

“‘M right here, baby.” He pretends to not know what you’re talking about, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops, acting like your fingers aren’t dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans. You know he can see right through you, has always seen right through you, his refusal to admit it in this moment only makes your need deepen.

“Please, Joel,” you whine softly, errant fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his boxers. “I almost started touching myself in the bathroom today.” Your cheeks flush red at the confession, a low groan escapes Joel’s throat. “Every time I felt it, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wish it was your co-“

You let out a small gasp when he snatches your wrist. He pauses, so still you begin to worry you’ve upset him, that you’ve pushed him too far. But then something shifts.

Fuck it. His mouth is on you in seconds, his tongue immediately gaining access as you melt into him. It’s dizzying, one of his hands grabbing you just below your jaw, the other squeezing your ass cheek roughly. Your knees buckle just as he’s turning you around and practically throwing you onto the bed. You don’t even have time to lift your head off the mattress before he’s yanking your panties over your ass and easing the plug out of your hole. He’s quick with it, your body shivering as the cool metal slides through you, leaving an empty feeling in its wake, but it doesn’t last for long as Joel licks a broad strip through your seam to your asshole. He presses his tongue there, gauging your reaction before he’s licking into you, spreading you with his hands. At first, you squirm away, the feeling of him eating at you like this entirely foreign. But then you're rocking back into him, completely lost in the rush of his mouth against your asshole. Sounds you never knew yourself capable of filling the room as his tongue repeatedly dives into the ring of muscle.

A strangled moan leaves your lips when he pauses, you crane your neck just in time to see a string of saliva drip from his mouth directly between your ass cheeks. He rubs it into you, pushing his thumb through the ring of muscle making you whimper.

“What d’you want?” His voice is low. His thumb starts pumping in and out of you, fast and unrelenting.

“Daddy,” you whine, burying your burning-hot cheeks into his pillow.

“Gonna need better than that,” he tsks, rutting his bulge into your heat. “Or else I’ll have t’ take care a’ this myself. Tie you up and make you watch.”

“Ngh, Daddy,” you moan, face burning impossibly warmer. His thumb slows, giving you a moment of reprieve to gather your thoughts.

“Want you t’ fuck my ass- wanna feel you.”

“Jesus-“ With his hand coming down to grip your neck, he suddenly pins you to the mattress, muttering a short stay before you feel his weight lift from the bed. You hear the sound of his zipper undoing and catch him fisting himself in the corner of your eye. Your thighs tremble with anticipation as he moves to the side of the bed, planting a knee by your shoulder. Then he’s towering over you, his weeping cock right at your eye line, your cheek still pushed against the mattress, ass in the air. He looks so powerful like this, so broad and so commanding, so when he tells you to open your mouth, you don’t even have to think twice.

“Gonna get daddy’s dick nice n’ wet, baby.” Saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to drip onto the bed when you stick your tongue out. “Then ‘m gonna wedge my cock in this tight little hole. How’s that sound?” You jolt forward when the pad of his index finger pushes into you.

“Please Daddy,” you whine. He removes his hand, immediately wrapping it around the back of your skull, his fingers tangled in your hair. His other hand grips the base of his length, tapping the red-flushed tip on your tongue a few times before pushing all the way into your mouth in one swift motion, your nose scratching against the coarse hairs at his pelvis. It had taken you months to work up to it, taking him in his entirety. The first time you blew him you’d barely been able to make it halfway down his cock before you were gagging, but not now. Now you take everything he gives you, like he’s molded your throat to the shape of him.

“This mouth-“ he’s cut off by his own moans, erupting from deep within his chest. “Fuckin’ heaven, baby.”

Tears quickly prick in the corners of your eyes as he continues his assault on your throat. A breathy moan slips from his mouth when you gag around his length after an especially forceful thrust of his hips.

His pace slows as he thumbs away your tears. “Daddy’s been so mean, huh little one? Makin’ you wait all this time.”

You whine around his dick, the vibrations making Joel’s breath catch in the back of his throat.

“You like when I’m mean though, don’t you? Like when daddy treats you like the little slut you are?” He delivers a harsh smack to your ass just as he pulls away from your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. He moves to open the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a bottle of lube before rounding the corner of the bed, towering over you from behind.

“Don’t need it,” you whine, head still foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Quiet little girl.” He softly swats your ass before you hear the disappointing sound of the bottle opening, followed by the cool sensation of the liquid hitting your exposed hole. He rubs it into you, letting out a satisfied hum when he presses his thumb into your asshole with ease. And then his cock is lining up with you, it’s so fucking big, so much bigger than the plug, a small part of you starts to worry it may not fit, may be too painful.

Like always, Joel senses your apprehension, running his large palm soothingly down your spine as he leans over you. You feel his warm breath hit your ear.

“You tell me if it’s too much, yeah baby?” He says it only slightly above a whisper. “M’ only gonna enjoy this if you do too.”

You nod against the sheets, immediately recognizing that the action won’t be enough for Joel. “Yes, Daddy.” You crane your neck to look at him, eyes hooded and dazed. Something flashes in his expression, beyond simple desire, a need suddenly so evident in his eyes that you’d sit up and kiss him until your lips were raw if he wasn’t pushing the tip of his thick cock inside you.

It’s so much. Even just the first inch is blinding, your vision going blurred and your senses entirely rapt with the feeling. The hurt is overwhelming, the stretch all-consuming, but it’s so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

He pushes in another inch and the pain dissipates, in its place a euphoric haze, where all you can feel is him, his weight driving you into the mattress, his hips rocking against your ass. You see stars once he’s fitted inside you, never having felt this full.

The noises Joel is making are almost pained, his cock throbbing from the tightness of your hole, all the restraint left in him keeping him from setting a brutal pace. No, instead he moves slow, focused intently on not blowing his load every time you squeeze around him, listening to your little moans and whimpers for any signs of unease.

“It’s a lot baby, I know,” he pants. “But you’re doin’ so good.” His praises have you reeling, furthering your dazed state. “Look so goddamn perfect takin’ all a’ me like this.”

You don’t even know what to say, all you know is that you need more, entirely lost in the feeling. You’re always insatiable, greedy, whenever it comes to Joel, and he knows, revels in the fact that he’s the one that gets to have you like this, makes you feel like this.

You’re not even sure what you’re saying at this point, what sounds are falling from your mouth, just that Joel takes it as a sign to pick up his pace. It brings you back to earth a bit, your lower belly going taught at the force of his body against your own.

You’re crying out against the mattress, small fingers twisting in the sheets, tears forming a wet spot beneath your chin.

“Fuck, baby c’mere.” He suddenly pulls out of you with a heady groan and wastes no time flipping you over. He’s pushing back inside you in seconds, resuming his vigorous pace.

“Wanna see you when I come in this perfect fuckin’ ass.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his words, your entire body going limp against the mattress as he uses you. When his thumb finds your clit you’re done for. The messy circles he makes send you hurtling right to the edge. With a near-scream, every part of your body goes taut for a moment before your release is shattering through every inch of your body, bursting from your core like shock waves.

“Fuck, fuck-“ he’s repeating over and over as his own climax hits him, but you can’t even hear him, can only feel him, his body thrusting into you, pushing you impossibly further into the mattress, his hands gripping the hinge of your hips, his warm release shooting deep inside you. It’s the only thing keeping you here, prevailing against the potent haze.

With one final grunt, he stills, his breathing ragged and sweat dripping from his forehead. You can barely move, still dazed as he pulls out of you slowly, the emptiness in its wake further graying your awareness of reality.

You lift a shaking hand, attempting to grab at whatever part of him you can reach. “Daddy-“

He leans forward, carefully caging you in his arms. “I’m here baby, you’re okay.”

“‘M okay,” you mumble sweetly. He brings one of his hands to your hair, gently running his fingers along your scalp in a way that makes your thoughts even more fuzzy. But the heaviness of his chest against your own keeps you there, keeps you present.

“You did so good f’ me, I’m so proud a’ you.” A tired smile spreads across your face at his words. He knows the effect they have on you, which is probably why he says it. But the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

“My pretty baby,” he kisses you softly, and you further melt into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent, musky and woody with something distinctly Joel. The two of you stay like this for a moment, your arms and legs wrapped around his large form, what little remains of your strength focused on keeping him in place, chest to chest, a comforting pressure.

“How do you feel, baby? You hurtin’ anywhere?” He says it against your neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there.

“Mm”, you hum, denying, still detached from your own body, not fully registering the slight tinges of hurt spreading throughout your lower half, completely consumed with the man in front of you, the smell of his sweat still glistening across his chest, the weight of his softened cock still pulsing and twitching against your thigh. He’s everywhere, everything in this moment.

He pulls away just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. “How ‘bout a bath yeah?” You hum in agreement, let him unwrap himself from your hold, and stand at the edge of the bed before he’s snaking an arm under your knees and back and lifting you. You instinctively curl your face into his neck, still wet with sweat but you don’t mind, nearly your whole body already covered in him.

He sets you down on the toilet seat before moving to turn the water on, making sure it’s warm enough before plugging the drain. You sway a bit in place, thankful when Joel wraps an arm around your back to steady you. Usually by now the haze will have lifted a bit, no longer in this headspace, yet still your brain is a bit fuzzy, your thoughts and senses dulled.

You look up at Joel when you feel his thick fingers card through your hair, unsure of when he’d gone to grab one of your hair elastics. As he gathers the strands together, you lean into him, your head resting just below his belly button, on the plush flesh of his tummy, smattered with course hairs trailing down to the base of his cock. You nuzzle into the spot, breathing him in, fully content in this moment. You feel the muscle tighten when you start to press small kisses to it. He firmly grips your now fully formed ponytail when your mouth wanders south, interrupting your descent, and you whine.

“Settle.” You let out a short huff of breath and bring your gaze to his, resting your chin on his stomach as he loosens his grip on your hair. He shakes his head at you, holding back a smile as he finishes tying your hair back.

He helps you step into the tub first, guiding you to sit, before he slots himself behind you with a grunt. He pulls you against him, arms wrapped around your tummy and chin resting on your shoulder. You giggle softly when the hairs of his mustache tickle behind your ear.

He lets you sit against him for a moment before he insists on cleaning you up, lathering his soap between his hands and smoothing it along your soft skin. You start to doze off from the feeling, Joel keeping you upright against his chest. Only after the water begins to cool and your fingertips have turned pruney, Joel helps you step out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel before you start to shiver. He kisses you then, soft and slow like he could stay like this with you forever. And you would, if he wasn’t ushering you back into the bedroom, telling you to get in bed and that he’d be right back.

He makes you drink a glass of water before taking his place behind you on the bed, his back to the headboard and the small bowl of your skull cradled against his chest. You slowly drift off to the steady beat of his heart.

I have so many ideas for these two so lmk if we want to see more ;]

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller fanfiction #part two

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afternoon-fireworks · 21 days

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“SAVING LOKI PRIME”:

A Complete Blueprint for Another 6 Episodes of Loki’s Post-S2 Storyline

POST I OF IV

Hello-hello! I know this tag is dying, but if you’re still closure-hunting or simply curious about how a Loki S3 could work, buckle up—I’m excited to announce we have a bountiful full-season outline to discuss that I’ve tried to model after the pre-existing canon as closely as possible, having studied this series as an undergrad screenwriter. When I was stumped with my own WIPs lately, I adopted the Loki S2 finale for a major drafting exercise. It’s been such a fun, special side project to do (although I’m not in any official writers’ room, nor claim to be for Mickey Mouse legal purposes), and I now rest it in your hands.

Feel free to skip to the images after the paragraphs if you’re not in the mood to slug through big text blocks to reach my main selling point here, but for extra tidbits on special thematic details and motivations behind episode structure, definitely stick around or revisit this section later!

Okay, down to business. My goal? To invent a logical back door out of the Yggdrasil Predicament, because while Loki’s major character arc for the MCU got beautifully resolved in S2 (glorious purpose), we all know his minor TV show arc remains tragically incomplete (a need for normal companionship). That’s 50% thematic damage, and with the tight corner the plot is written into, there is minimal room for further resolution. You can’t satisfy one arc without slashing the other in half. There aren’t many places to take Loki from this point without cheapening his sacrifice and overall development—which, you could argue, is either a genius move employed by the writers, or a downright frustrating one. Maybe a bit of both.

But a MCU installment with Mobius in the forefront? That’s our loophole. Maybe we revisit him sitting atop a jet ski he can’t afford because TVA retirees don’t have pension funds—somewhere to emphasize his (1) lack of purpose AND (2) lack of normal companionship. He has double the narrative incompletion/ambiguity, making him perfect for an advancement to main character status. Sure, he could wrap up his loose ends by settling down like his Sacred-Timeline-self did, manage to find a branch without Don on it, save enough to cash in on a jet ski, and take a childless vacation to Cleveland’s picturesque Edgewater Beach, but he is hundreds/thousands(?) of years old with a pressing conflict of abrupt access to human mortality, seeing as the TVA no longer halts his natural aging process. A century to him must feel like a decade, and a decade like a year. Midlife crisis material, am I right? He is going to die soon, and that’s slowly sinking in.

Furthermore, Loki may have spent centuries searching for alternative measures regarding himself and the Loom, but Mobius doesn’t know that. Even if he does remember the conversation his past self had with Loki in the Time Theater about “burdens”, depending on if that dead timeline ever got regenerated or if it’s a branched reality Mobius can’t recall, the fact remains that as far as he knows, Loki cut his search short and took the martyr route without a fair consultation first. Who’s not to say, then, that Mobius doesn’t glance up at the sky and declare,

“I’m not gonna leave you alone up there forever. I’m gonna get you down, even if it’s just for a minute.”

It’s the Savior archetype in motion—a classic—and not unlike Loki’s own archetype. This time around, however, Mobius will influence the Yggdrasil Predicament himself so that any thematic shift isn’t at the expense of Loki’s glorious purpose. Mobius’s glorious purpose, he believes, is using what few human years he has left to alleviate Loki’s burden. He knows Loki’s identity better than he knows his own, remember?

Diving deeper into themes, perhaps we can expect to see a sharp deviation from our initial expectations of these two. Loki comes to embody the stubborn force of selflessness, refusing accommodations, and Mobius gradually becomes the force of selfishness. Loki becomes Order, whereas Mobius, on his sometimes irrational quest to free him from his prison, becomes Chaos, unaware of the mental prison he has also trapped himself within. They each only get everything they want when they swap their primary characteristics and locate equal footing thereafter.

On that note, let’s take a peek at how another six episodes can take shape. “Episode 1: Changing of the Guard” and “Episode 2: Ageless Antiquity” are provided within this post, and you can find the other four uploaded to my page (all posted within a reasonable time frame of each other, because I know delays are a bane on memory and entertainment)! Oh, and since this season doesn’t follow a typical fic format so much as it does a disaster-bullet-point format, I’ve elected to keep it on Tumblr rather than on a fic website. Cheers, and happy reading!

- Lin

#loki #loki tv #loki show #mcu loki #marvel #marvel mcu #mobius #sylvie #loki series #loki season 2 #my writing

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seasaltcosmos · 11 months

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i know some of the fandom may be getting discouraged by the lack of news, but i just want to write this and tell y’all that even if we have yet to get that big “RISE OF THE TMNT RETURNS FOR SEASON 3,” we’re still on that path and our efforts HAVE bore fruit.

1. there’s been more and more attention surrounding rise. youtubers are watching it and talking about how good it is. (one guy in particular who made a really bad video on it admitted he knows it’s bad and said he’ll be making a new one in the future.) saberspark in particular- one of the BIGGEST cartoon youtubers- has admitted to rewatching the show 4 times because he thinks it’s that good. nick itself hasn’t been ignoring rise like i thought they would. they’ve actually given it just as much attention as 2012 and 03, which i have to give props for.

2. shredder’s revenge’s dlc confirmed that it’ll include alt color schemes based on other iterations of the turtles. and one of those schemes is the ones from rise. it isn’t the “weird different tmnt that no one watched” anymore, it’s getting attention even from an officially licensed, highly praised video game.

3. the comics are being rereleased next month in ONE big book. i’m not an expert on comic counterparts, but i don’t think nick or idw would’ve gone out of their way to rerelease a comic for a show “on pause” years later.

4. remember that little “meet n greet raph and leo” event at a london convention back in spring? you’d think for stuff like that, they would resort to the typical 1987 general brand representation designs. but nope, the costumes were specifically rise of the tmnt. an OFFICIAL event, using designs from an iteration considered “obscure and dead?” i can’t believe i haven’t seen more people bring that up tbh

5. there’s been a HUGE influx of rise merch in china. on top of the movie being released in theaters, they’ve also done cross promotion with snack brands, a nickelodeon (wanna say exhibit or park, i don’t remember) having a full display of them alongside other big nick icons, a new MOBILE GAME. and if there’s anything i’ve learned from “first lgbt disney chara” memes, western media companies LOVE china money.

6. again- NICKELODEON has noticed all of the attention on rise. i can’t confirm that it means they’re discussing more seasons right now as i type this, but it still means that all the work we’ve been doing has been worth it and there’s still a reason to keep fighting. the most attention they’ve usually given their short-lived series was an intro upload to youtube and maybe a couple clips. but they’re acknowledging rise as just as much a part of the franchise as their other “””more successful””” iterations, even if there’s no confirmation of more seasons yet.

we’re not at the end goal yet, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t accomplished anything. the show has been getting the attention it deserves. and we shouldn’t take all these little achievements for granted, because they’ll go a LONG way as long as we don’t give up. every art piece, every addition to the tags, every positive mention of the show gets more eyes on it. so don’t give up, keep fighting, don’t burn yourselves out, and let’s save rise of the tmnt! :D

#rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt season 3 #unpause rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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writersmorgue · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 6 - "you lied to me"

I may have shed a tear while writing this one.

This is a fantasy AU!! No teacher/student!!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 971

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As much as he tried to run away, Izuku had pulled him in like a magnet. They had fallen hard and fast for each other, faster than Shouta had in any of his lifetimes.

The time came to confess his truth, to finally break off their relationship and part ways. It would be easier this way, Shouta could let Izuku live on in his memory, young and vibrant as he was.

But Izuku always did love ruining Shouta’s plans.

“Shouta, it’s okay. I- I am too.”

He didn’t think he’d ever felt such a feeling before. Was it relief? Distress, maybe… Hope.

“Why… why didn’t you say anything?” He examined Izuku’s face, trying to wring out any deceit.

His lover shrugged, smiling. The barely-there crow's feet made an appearance as he nuzzled into Shouta’s hand.

“Probably for the same reason as you. I wanted to protect this. It wouldn’t work if one of us was mortal and the other…”

Shouta frowned, “I know most of the other immortals in the area, I can’t believe I never noticed you.” he swiped Izuku’s freckled cheek with his thumb.

“I’ve…” Izuku sighed, “I’ve had a tough life, Shouta. I’m just grateful that I now get to spend the rest of it with you.”

Eternity… he doesn’t say.

Truly, Shouta should’ve known it was too good to be true.

He let himself believe that it was possible, that the universe had finally granted him some sort of reprieve.

Maybe it was his desperation that led him to ignore the signs. Izuku’s aging, his spirit, his beauty.

Living for as long as Shouta had, you would lose your mind a little more with each passing decade. Cursed immortals like him don’t receive the blessing of death, but rather gradual insanity.

It was all good, all wrong.

Not two years later, it all came crashing down.

Izuku had begun looking tired and lethargic. His smile was strained and his movements painful. Shouta had insisted he go to the healer, ignoring the blaring alarm in his head that screamed this was wrong. He should be regenerating faster than his ailment could harm him.

“Shouta, don’t worry.” He brushed off every time he showed concern. “I’m fine, they can’t help.”

There was something he wasn’t telling him.

Weeks later, Izuku had awoken sometime in the night, and he hadn’t returned. After Shouta lay there unable to rest for some time, he threw the covers off of his bed and trudged into the dark of the house.

He found Izuku curled around the toilet, sitting in a pool of sweat and vomit.

Immediately he leaped into action, gathering the shivering man into his arms and lifting him. Izuku clung to his shoulders, whimpering at the movement.

He rushed them to the nearest healer, doing his best to keep Izuku conscious throughout the trip.

The old woman on duty took one look at Izuku and sighed, waving at Shouta to come through to the back.

They put him on an open cot, and Shouta immediately forewent the waiting bench, kneeling beside Izuku on the dirt.

“Shit, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on, Izuku. Please, I know you’re hiding something. Is your curse doing this to you? I don’t understand…”

“Love,” Izuku smiled, motioning for Shouta’s hand. He complied, holding the smaller hand in his own. Izuku’s body had always been small, almost dangerously so, but Shouta chalked it up to genetics. He never met Izuku’s family, assuming they’d passed decades or even centuries ago, like his own.

But now, with the moonlight pouring in through the window, illuminating Izuku’s translucent skin, he’s sure he had it all wrong.

He waited a moment, allowing Izuku to collect himself and breathe.

“There’s a letter… in my chest at home. I explain more…” He sighed, eyebrows quivering, “I can’t imagine I have much longer. I’ve already been lucky.”

“Izuku you’re…” acting as though you’re already dead. “You lied to me about being immortal,” Shouta finished, using all his power to stay strong until he got answers. But watching the tears swell in Izuku’s eyes nearly broke him.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, Shouta. It was never with malicious intent, please believe me.” He took a shuddering breath, “I never had long for this life.”

Shouta brought Izuku’s hand to his forehead, feeling the cool skin and pressing a kiss into his wrist.

Shouta would never be angry at him, and he needed Izuku to know, but he wouldn’t dare interrupt him now.

“I knew you were cursed when we met all those years ago. I knew I was dying then, too.” Izuku explains, nodding to the woman when she brought him another pillow to prop himself on. “As much as I knew it would hurt, I was selfish. I fell in love with you, and I knew you would leave if I was honest. I just…” He sobs, caressing Shouta’s face.

Shouta shakes his head, allowing his burning eyes to well, “Izuku you don’t need to justify yourself. I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together. If I’d have known… I would’ve spent every waking moment treasuring you.”

Izuku chuckled, “You couldn’t possibly make me feel more loved than I already have. My time with you was the happiest of my life. I’ve been alone for so many years, and though it was greedy, I didn’t want to feel that loneliness in death. I know you’ll always be with me, just like I’ll always be with you, Shouta.”

He pulled himself up onto Izuku’s cot and took the man into his arms.

“I love you more than anything, Izuku.” He murmurs, pressing kisses into Izuku’s crown.

“Not more than I love you,” Izuku whispers back.

He took his last breath with a sleepy smile on his face.

Forever young, just like Shouta.

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cranberrymoons · 9 months

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hi! i'm sage. I'm glad you're here! just a few things:

i'm 32 – if you are a minor, please do not follow/interact. the content on this blog is intended for adults, and I assume everyone here is 18+

this blog is multi-fandom but I'm deep in my stranger things era right now and rapidly spiraling down the firefighter rabbit hole. i'm also in the middle of an ill-advised supernatural rewatch and the brainrot is unfortunately here to stay ✊😔

you can find my fandom writing on ao3 here and under the 'my fic' tag on this blog and in the masterlist under the read more. reblogs of other peoples' fic are tagged as 'fic', and writing resources etc are tagged as 'writing'.

i think that's everything. love you!!!!!!

fic masterlist 🩷

here you come again (16,172 words, rated E, stommy)

Steve and Tommy haven't talked in nearly three years. After everything, maybe the best way forward is back.

for the rest of mine (644 words, rated M)

It happens on a Tuesday night, with the soft whirl of the dishwasher running in the kitchen and ESPN on low in the background and Chris’s homework left laying out on the coffee table when he went to bed about an hour ago.

heart in throat (am i dreaming?) (1,227 words, rated T)

I kissed someone, he imagines himself saying eventually, when he’s ready. I think I really like him. Just like that. No big announcement, no declaration, but just – just letting it sit there and breathe between them.

already standing on the ground (1,195 words, rated T)

Buck lets out a laugh, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. Laughing like he’s relieved, like he can’t quite believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “We were on a date.” And – Eddie blinks. “Oh.”

current wips

the seas be ours (steddie pirates au) (2 works, 10,943 words, rated E)

Eddie The Dread Pirate Munson captures the Harrington heir with the intent of ransoming him back to his family for an easy payout. He really could not have guessed what he was getting himself into.

back in the new york groove (26,823 words, rated E) summer 1999 | tumblr post | ch 6/? rockstar eddie/middle school teacher steve, soft dom steve

“Ha!” Eddie says, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. “I have a publicist. That automatically makes me cooler than you.” “Oh yeah? Well I have about eighty twelve year olds back in Santa Monica who think I’m the coolest guy on the planet.” (new york isn't home, but it's the next best thing) Steve and Eddie chaotically parenting their gen-z toddler in the late 90s (part of the future fic series)

future fic series (23 works, 64,995 words, rated G-E)

a love letter to the idea of home or, the happily-ever-after future in which Eddie is a rockstar and Steve is a middle school teacher and they have a bunch of kids and live by the ocean (rockstar eddie + middle school teacher steve)

a love to last past saturday night (3,550 words, rated T for now but will go up in later chapters) | ch 1/? coffee shop au

There’s a little cafe at the end of Steve’s block that he’s only ever been in once. It’s called Corroded Coffee and it’s dark in there and maybe a little pretentious, but not pretentious as in… people reading classic novels or having discussions about French Cinema. Pretentious in the sense that there’s an intimidating collection of vinyl records taking up half an entire wall and they use single origin arabica beans and the scary baristas look at you sideways if you order regular milk in your latte.

complete/one shots

so fondly today (8,267 words, rated E, complete) processing trauma, getting together | tumblr post

Eddie's hair is pulled up on top of his head, and there’s a piece of it falling down to frame his face, and Steve’s sleep-deprived brain sends a shock of want rushing through him. Want: he wants to touch? Wants to look? He’s looking. Wants to… something? He feels electricity crackle at the backs of his teeth and he blinks, wanting. Wanting so badly that something aches inside his chest. (it's been a few months since everything, and steve is beginning to realize some things about himself)

get it off your chest (7,415 words, rated E, complete) rough sex, spanking, read the ao3 tags! | tumblr post

“You think this is me taking you apart?” Eddie asks. He lets go of Steve’s hair and plants a hand in the center of his chest, then gives him a shove toward the bed. “That’s adorable, Steve. Seriously.” (or, steve and eddie have life-affirmingly good sex) aka my Consent Is Sexy manifesto

dressed up to the eyes (8,737 words, rated E, complete) rough sex, spanking, read the ao3 tags! | tumblr post

Steve almost didn’t come out tonight. It’s been a long day, and he kind of just wants to be at home in his sweatpants, curled up on the couch with takeout and an old movie, but – But he’d agreed to be social tonight – if nothing else, in Robin’s honor since she was supposed to have a date tonight but is trapped in bed with the flu – and so… here he is. Being social. Ish. Socialish. Steve and Eddie are strangers in a bar... or are they?

something so pretty (3,087 words, rated M, complete) | tumblr post

Eddie raises Steve's hand to brush a kiss over his knuckles, then catches him around the waist again, swaying them back and forth to the rhythm of a Bangles song coming from the radio. “I said you look pretty, and I meant it. Deal with it.” Steve feels a reluctant smile pull at the corners of his mouth. “Really?” (the girls paint steve's nails and it causes him to feel several enormous feelings)

can't start a fire (3,831 words, rated T, complete) | tumblr post

“Are you sure this is okay?” Steve asks in an undertone once everyone has arrived that first night. He looks genuinely nervous, which is… insane; he’s a bat-wielding, bat-biting jock who saved the world, and Eddie’s just – “I don’t think your friends like me very much.” Eddie feels the corners of his mouth draw down as he follows Steve’s eyeline to where the others are huddled in the corner talking amongst themselves. (steve doesn't need people taking care of him. except, maybe he kind of likes it when they do)

the sweetest thing (14,022 words, rated E, complete)

It had started out simple enough between them, Eddie making some off-hand comment about Steve not being able to hold out for a whole month and Steve, ever unable to back down from a challenge, rising to the bait. “Whatever,” he’d said, rolling his eyes. “A month? Please.” He could do a month. Easy. He just hadn't counted on Eddie being – well. Himself. eddie goads steve into a No Nut November challenge; he never said anything about taking it easy on him

misc. series:

kinktober 2023 (14 works, 39,566 words, rated T-E)

a collection of fics written for kinktober 2023 and eddie month 2023 prompts – works can also be found on tumblr under the "kinktober 2023" tag

steddie microfic (14 works, 5,644 words, rated G-E)

a collection of microfic written for the monthly steddiemicrofic challenges – works can also be found on tumblr under the "steddiemicrofic" tag

discord drabbles (9 works, 4,476 words, rated G-E)

a collection of drabbles/microfics written for daily discord prompts – works can also be found on tumblr under the "discord drabble" tag

steddie holiday drabbles (27 works, 20,670 words, rated T-E)

the 2023 fic advent calendar! a collection of fics between 300-1,000 words each, written for steddieholidaydrabbles' prompts and warm-up rounds – works can also be found on tumblr under the "steddieholidaydrabbles" tag

miscellaneous lol

kill of the night (1,067 words, rated T, complete) fandom: crazyhead | tumblr post

“Do you remember the Hell Ball?” Raquel frowns, setting down her own slice. “You mean the one a few days ago where I almost got murdered and turned into a portal for demons to enter our mortal coil and take over the planet?” “Yeah,” Amy says. “That one.” “Then yeah,” Raquel says. “Guess I remember it.”

#my fic #fic #writing

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harry-on-broadway · 2 years

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Hi friends! I can’t believe it has been almost one year since I posted my first piece of writing on here. In that time, I’ve made so many new friends and have loved getting to read all of the amazing Harry-related writing on this site. So, to celebrate, I’m putting together a fun little writing challenge.

The Rules:

1. Use a picture, GIF, or written prompt (or any combination of those) and write something about Harry! It can can be a quick concept, a drabble, or a full length fic. It can be a standalone story or a chapter in an existing series/universe. It can be fluff, smut, angst, whatever! The important thing is to just write!

2. When you’re done writing, make sure to tag me, as well as use the #HarryOnBroadwayFicChallenge tag so I can see it! I’m also going to make a big post with everyone’s writing when the challenge is over.

3. This will officially run from today, Oct. 16, to Nov. 30, but tbh we’re all busy and those dates are just rough guidelines. Feel free to participate anytime through the end of the year.

4. Have fun! This is all about spreading positivity and remembering that fandom is a space to have fun and be creative. 💕

Now for the prompts...

Picture Prompts

GIF Prompts

Dialogue Prompts:

1. “What’s this then?”

2. “You’ve caught me at a really bad time.”

3. “Say more, darling.”

4. “Well, this is new.”

5. “How are you feeling today? A little better, hmm?”

6. “Let me make you feel good.”

7. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

8. “Well, that’s not a very nice way of putting it. But yes, I suppose you’re right.”

9. “Is that my shirt?”

10. “Later you will definitely need to tell me where you learned this.”

11. “Believe me, my dear, no-one regrets this more than I do.”

12. “No. Hell, no. Absolutely not.”

13. “That’s a very … bold … thing to say.”

14. “I don’t actually like coffee.”

15. “Hey. Look at me.”

16. “Do you like that?”

17. “Hey! Yeah it’s me….guess what…I’m coming home.”

18. “Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

19. “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

20. “You left it here the last time.”

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out! I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with! 💕💕💕💕

#HarryOnBroadwayFicChallenge #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles ff #harry styles series #harry styles x ofc #harry fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic

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acrazybayernfan · 8 months

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Thanks to the lovely @chelleisamazing and to the not less lovely @miasanmuller and to my dear bestie @gxtzeizm for tagging me! 💖 I am super super late for this but for my defense I did a theater course during one week with no internet and after I passed an audition to enter a theater school and after that I was so tired that I didn't had the strength to do anything even that. I'm so sorry 🤦🏻‍♀️

bundesliga prediction time: answer the following questions about this bundesliga season

1. Top 5 Bundesliga Teams at the end of the season?

2. How far will Bayern get in the DFB Pokal?

3. How far will Bayern get in the Champions League?

4. Who will be Bayerns top goal scorer?

5. Biggest surprise? (could be anything)

6. Biggest disappointment? (could be anything)

Well surprise, surprise… I will go with… Bayern. Even if I wouldn’t want this to happen I would still answer that, and… guess what… I want it to happen : ). For the second place I think that there’s going to be a little surprise and that Leverkusen is going to be the second-best team of the season (Xabi I believe in you!). Then I struggled to choose between BVB and Leipzig for the third place but I will go with Leipzig, even if I like the players that Dortmund got this summer and even if I think that they have a good squad I suppose that the events from last year are going to affect them this season. So BVB in fourth and Union in fifth. I wanted to had a surprise team in my top five but I don’t know if Union can be considered as a surprise anymore (also that’s probably a bad guess because it’s quite rare for a team like that to keep having a successful season after a very successful season but let’s hope “finger cross”)

I hope that I’m not too optimistic but I want us to win it. We have been away from this trophy for way too long, and I carnally desire to in it again now.

A semi-final would be great but the team really have to improve for that or we need an easy draw ( < not going to happen). A quarter-final is probably more realistic.

Obviously, Harry Kane, not a very original answer but I can’t see it any other way. He seems to have fitted in the squad quite easily and even if later he struggles a little wish would be normal, I still think that he will have a too important lead to be caught up. But I want Sebastian Haller to be the second best striker of the season because he deserves that after what happened last season.

Bayern is going to win all the matches against Gladbach (yes I’m in full delulu mode)

I don’t want that to happen but I’m afraid that Florian Witz will have some difficulties this season, after such a terrible injury it can take a long time for a player to really come back to his best level.

I'm tagging @miasanmannschaft, @miasanmia44, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @uncoolfc, @leongolretzka (you have probably ll done this already but just in case... however feel free to ignore 😘)

#thank you so much for the tag <333 #it's such a nice thing to do at the start of a season #look at me being all delusional and full of hopes at the start of the year even if the team is a mess #fc bayern #bundesliga #bundesliga predictions #tag game

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oilan · 5 months

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Fic Meme

Tagged by @robertawickham ages ago.

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Worthwhile Endeavors (my new year's resolution is to finish this)

On Enjolras' left, Bahorel was regaling Courfeyrac with a story that had taken place several evenings before involving, apparently, a very pretty young woman who Bahorel had allowed to woo him back to her rooms. Across the table, Laigle cut into a conversation involving mesmerism to tease a blushing Prouvaire about a mademoiselle who had lately caught his eye. Grantaire, having reappeared at last, loudly interjected with ribald comments now and then. And Enjolras, looking around at the friends he so admired, felt strongly aware of the great gulf between all of them and himself.

2. La Saint-Sylvestre

Grinning triumphantly, Grantaire was poised to empty the remaining brandy into the punchbowl, but was interrupted by a portly young man standing nearby. “Pardon, you three. Someone has already-" “Pardon?” said Grantaire, rounding on him. “This fellow does not know true heroics when he sees it! Pardon, but do you wish to be the cause of this party’s demise? If not, do not stand in the way of its triumph!”

3. Les Âmes

The group turned to see Bahorel sitting side by side with Jean Prouvaire atop the ruin of the barricade. Bahorel was beaming at them. “It took you all long enough, but here you are! We have been waiting for you. Really, Enjolras, I can’t believe you had the audacity to fling my body into the Rue Mondetour like all the others! Do I not deserve a place of honor? You should have propped me up on the barricade here, carbine in hand. It might have given the national guard quite a fright!”

4. Expectations (Now I know exactly how Lucille feels here...)

In the center of the chaos, Lucille was sitting on a sofa, her hair disheveled and falling from where she had hastily pinned it, her dressing gown hanging off one shoulder as she tried unsuccessfully to nurse her new daughter. Enjolras averted his eyes, but Combeferre was moved with sympathy as he watched the baby struggle to push away from her, screaming all the while.

5. Tomorrow We Move Forward

With a muffled thunk two objects, carefully hidden inside of the hat, tipped over and fell against the bottom of the box. They were a pair of pistols, percussion cap, the metal mechanisms shining in the waning light. Attempting to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, Combeferre took one of the pistols in his hands and turned it over, examining the weapon carefully. It was brand new and superbly crafted.

6. La Beauté du Diable de l'Ésprit

“Ah, you made it! Jehan, let the fellow in, for God’s sake- you can gawp at each other later.” He clapped Courfeyrac on the shoulder. “I’m pleased to see you made it here. Courfeyrac, this is Jean Prouvaire- our host. Jehan, I found Courfeyrac at the Sorbonne today. A baby lawyer- fresh from his parents’ nest.”

7. A Regrettable Encounter

Combeferre did not reply, and merely continued to stare hard at his two friends, as if silently willing them to leave. His companion, who was only slightly less inebriated, looked uncomfortably from them to Combeferre and back again. “You know each other? Well, of course you many join us. The more the merrier after all—" and Combeferre looked even unhappier at that.

8. Step By Step

“Nevermind them. Do you know a song in triple time you might sing?” There was a sardonic glint in Combeferre’s eye. “Ranz des Vaches.” Enjolras gave a surprised laugh. “I- I suppose that might work.” “I’m not going to sing you any song involving cows.” Combeferre wrapped an arm around Enjolras’ waist and took his other hand, positioning himself for a second attempt. “I should hope you would give me more credit for romance than that.”

9. Despite All Rationality

Something clenched in Enjolras’ chest, but he chose not to respond, setting some bread and cheese on the nightstand instead. “You might eat something as well.” “Fine.” Combeferre looked as though he did not know whether to be dejected or vexed. “If you don’t want to hear about Dupuytren you- you could still just sit with me for a bit. We haven’t said a word to each other since-“

10. The Process of Healing

The pair spent the remainder of the day in the sitting room, ensconced in armchairs, Enjolras reading and Combeferre attempting to doze when he was not busy coughing or shivering with fever. He was too ill to even look much at the portrait above the fireplace, and more than once, he caught Enjolras’ drawn expression turned towards him. At this, he attempted to hide his discomfort, pretending he was not both chilled and hot, that every movement did not pain him.

Tagging @adamsvanrhijn @marschallin @oldbookist @baronmpontmercy @astarion-dekarios

#fic meme

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canonicallyobserving911 · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO4

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Buddie Fanfic Series: Their Firsts, At Last

Part 6 will be available soon.

I wasn’t tagged by anyone but I wanted to share a snippet from Part 6 of my series titled Their Firsts, At Last.

At the end of part 5, Buck and Eddie completed their first phase of couples therapy and now they’re about to share another first. It’s a major milestone in their relationship but there’s still one BIG conversation they must have before they share it.

I’m still working on this part and I’ll be editing it soon. I hope to have it posted by the end of the week.

66K Words; Currently 5 completed works ___________ Here’s a snippet from part 6. ___________

Buck joins him a few minutes later and he sits down on the chase lounge chair next to the one Eddie’s sitting on. It’s quiet as they spend several minutes looking at and listening to the ocean.

It’s dark and even though they can see each other, the only lights illuminating the beach are the ones from the houses close to the shore. Since it’s after midnight, the light shining from inside of the house they’re staying in, appears to be the only one on.

Eddie sips his beer, then turns his head and asks, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Of course not. Go ahead.”

He inhales then locks eyes with Buck. “Before I say this, I want to clarify that this is about us and no one else.”

Buck raises his eyebrows but he nods then waits for him to continue.

“Could you tell me why we still haven’t discussed a few things? I mean we’ve been to couples therapy and we agreed to talk about everything... including the things we haven’t talked about but if I’m honest…” He moves his hand around to motion at the beach house and their surroundings. “I felt blindsided when you told me about all of this so my question is… have I done something to make you feel like you can’t talk to me about everything?”

Buck’s not sure how to approach this subject but he decides the best course of action is to just be honest.

“Actually, um…” He trails off because he wants to choose his words carefully.

Eddie patiently waits for him to continue.

“Yes, you did say something that makes me… um, wonder if I can tell you some things.” He watches Eddie’s eyes widen but he continues.

“Do you remember the treasure hunt we participated in about two and a half years ago?”

Eddie slowly nods then says, “Yeah, I remember it”.

Buck moves uncomfortably on the chase lounge. “Well… that day when we were in the loft at work and the team was talking about it, you said, ‘Your girlfriend’s new story is probably not going to help with that.’ But when I said Taylor was my friend not my girlfriend, you made a face like you… didn’t believe me.”

“Oh!” Eddie replies as realization sets in because he definitely remembers it. He was being petty and he knows he was jealous but Buck ended up dating Taylor anyway, so he wasn’t wrong about his assumption regarding them being more than just friends. Even though he was dating Ana, he didn’t want Buck dating anyone and he understands he was being a hypocrite but he never wanted this. Them not talking is why they ended up having a huge argument which led to them going to couples therapy and he wants Buck to feel like he can talk to him about anything.

They quietly continue to sip their beers as they allow the words to settle around them.

After a minute or two, Eddie sips his beer, looks over at Buck then finally says, “I apologize if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me and that wasn’t my intention. I don’t ever want you to feel like that again so, if I ever say something or make a comment you don’t like, will you talk to me about it?”

Buck nods then echoes, “Yeah, I—I’ll do that.”

Eddie’s glad they discussed it but there’s still something else he wants to know and it’s been festering a lot longer than this part of the conversation they had Tuesday.

“So… is the comment I made about Taylor years ago the reason why you didn’t talk to me about the sperm donation?”

How will Buck respond to Eddie’s question about his sperm donation?

___________

Fic Summary: A multi-part fanfic series about the romantic “firsts” Buck and Eddie share as they journey through life in an established relationship and their lives as a couple will include some of Buck’s individual “firsts” too. It’s filled with the FANON love, romance, fluff and domesticity their relationship should have been allowed to experience in CANON. The second part of the series title was adapted from the song “At Last” by Etta James.

First Love Confession - 8.2K Words; Rated: General Audiences: Buck and Eddie share their first real and meaningful love confession.

First Date - 11.7K Words; Rated: General Audiences: Buck and Eddie go on their first date.

First Kiss - 12.7K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie share their first kiss.

First Argument - 14.7K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie have their first argument.

First Couples Therapy Session - 18.2K Words: Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie go to their first couples therapy sessions.

First ? - Part 6 will be available soon.

This series of FANON future speculation fanfics is being written on a continuous timeline that begins with the start of season 7 (if it were to start in September 2023). Each part ends at a specific point in Buck and Eddie’s relationship so the next part can begin with the ending of the previous part. Therefore, parts 1-4 should be read prior to reading part 5 and the series will continue in that manner until it’s complete.

Parts 1 - 5 are available on AO3.

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natashxromanovf · 2 years

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natashxromanovf's 1k followers writing challenge

hi my angels! i wanted to thank you for 1000 followers. that's huge. there's so many of you here that i could fill a small town! i am infinitely grateful for every single one of you. i have met great friends on here, the nicest people, so thank you. i love you all, you deserve all the kisses in the world xx

⍟ rules:

- please choose max. 4 prompts

- fandoms: HP; MCU; Outer Banks; Stranger Things; The Vampire Diaries; The Originals; Teen Wolf; Descendants; criminal minds; 911; 911: lone star; shadow and bone; shameless; shadowhunters

- there's no deadline, however the final date for entry is october 28th :)

- you can mix prompts (ex. choose one from angst, one from fluff etc.)

- no nsfw fics please!

- you have to tell me the prompts + character for which you want to do this via asks

- you must tag me @/natashxromanovf and use the tag #tajas1kfollowerswritingchallenge so we can make sure i see it!

- tag the warnings approprietly, and most importantly, have fun while doing it. don't force it if you don't feel like writing, i don't care if you post the fic in two years or if you don't post at all. my intention is for people to have fun <33

۞ fluff

1. “I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your apartment for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

2. “I refuse to stop irritating you until you give me attention.”

3. “You’re like... everything good that has ever happened rolled into one adorable package.”

4. “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

5. “Well, I am pretty irresistible.”

6. “Oh, you’ve started started stealing my socks now?”

7. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

8. “Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”

9. “You getting so flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

10. “I would like my good morning kiss now.”

11. “I love to hear your voice, even if you’re so far away.”

12. “There is no better way to start the day than seeing your face.”

13. “How come you always end up under my blanket?”

14. “Believe me, I will never be tired of you.”

15. "So, who..." "Not going to talk about that."

۞ angst

1. "I told you not to fall in love with me.”

2. “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.”

3. “This is not how family is supposed to feel like.”

4. "I didn't want it to come out like that. That's why I wanted to leave." "Without ever telling me?"

5. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “It’s ok. We’ll figure it out - together.”

6. "I love you, okay?! And I can't stay in your life when I'm just ruining it." "You can't just say that and don't wait for me to answer."

7. “You’re going to be okay. Just keep breathing. Please.”

8. “You’re supossed to be mad at me! Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

9. “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

10. “I don’t hold people close. It makes it easier for them to hurt you.”

11. “I had a nightmare. Can I stay with you?”

12. “Nobody has seen you in days.”

13. “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

14. “We found you crying. What happened?”

15. "How could you do this to me?" "You're so naive, it's almost adorable."

۞ misc + situation prompts

1. Person A gets a phone call from Person B around midnight, in which Person B is clearly panicked.

2. “What do you mean they’re my new partner? They tried to kill me last week!” “Sounds like your problem.”

3. “Did you just slap my ass?” “Actually, I firmly grasped it.” “Did you just quote Spongebob?”

4. Person A hasn’t been sleeping due to work, and they of course get sick. Despite person B’s wishes, person A continues to sneak out of bed and stay up late to get more work done, and person B is not happy.

5. “Didn’t you two used to hate each other?” “Yeah, but now we hold hands and shit!”

6. “Walk it off!” “I literally can’t walk.”

7. “Hold on... you’re bilingual?” “Yes?”

8. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

9. “Can I pet your dog?” “Do I know you?”

10. "You owe me." "I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your boy/girl-friend to get your parents off you're back."

11. Seeing videos of yourself and not recognizing the person you see, is a horrible feeling.

12. “How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”

13. “You said to be honest stop hitting me!!”

14. “Ew, that is so sappy, I might vomit.”

15. Seeing their lover getting hurt ignited a fire full of rage inside of them that nothing could’ve held them back.

uff, that was a long post. anyway, thank you again for all the support, i couldn't have made it without you. all prompts belong to @creativepromptsforwriting so make sure to check her blog out!

and now, for the end, i'm tagging some people who might be interested in this and/or would be so kind to boost :) i love you all, remember that <33

@pregnant-piggy @mirclealignr @velvetcloxds @cxoffeeaddict @arkofblake @jackys-stuff-blog @leossmoonn @sarahisslytherin @milkiane @cupids-crystals @sheraayasher @f4irydaydreams @fairydxll @griffxnnage @henqtic @kimoralov3 @serpentargo @melin-oe @of-apollo @annab-nana @sabstfu @rorybutnotgilmore @shadesofvelma @awritingtree @imabee-oralizard @mendesxruel @messers-moony @dunbarsjersey @spring-picnics @robinbuckleyluvr @just-a-smol-spoon @peggycartervariantbetty

#tajas1kfollowerswritingchallenge #taja talks #thank you!!!#harry potter #marvel #outer banks #stranger things #the vampire diaries #the originals #teen wolf #descendants #criminal minds #911 #911: lone star #shadow and bone #shameless #shadowhunters #mcu

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snowdice · 1 year

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 111]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53

Going to work on this story. It will probably not be too many rounds before I grab lunch. I might do some later tonight though too.

Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn��t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”

“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.

“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”

Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”

“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.

“What are the cliffs?”

“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”

He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”

Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.

“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.

“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.

“Great,” the king said. “”I’ll make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”

Chapter 55 (Logan)

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

#proofread stories #not writing

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