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cuubism · 5 months

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work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

#this is SO silly #hob is literally the most average guy and dream is salivating with lust and completely ferally obsessed with him #it's mutual tho dream is literally a gremlin and hob is like 😍 wow he's beautiful he's like an angel #and then they lived happily ever after #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #sex scene between these two would be funny as fuck i think hob would touch dream once and he would come instantly and maybe also faint

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asimmutableasgravity · 5 months

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big big marvey fic rec list

marvey is currently my most bookmarked ship, so trust me when i say i've been around the bend for marvey content. i have dug through a lot of it the past few months, so trust that these fics have been highly rated!

fics are loosely grouped, with the summary and my thoughts under the cut :3 no spoilers ofc bc i love you

MY PERSONAL FAVOURITES

A Specter-Ross Affair by @frivoloussuits (15k+, au)

“You ordered an ‘extra-hot, extra-wet cappuccino, single-origin, properly layered, to-go and ready five minutes ago to make up for your service speed or lack thereof.’” In which Mike is a barista, Rachel is a lawyer, and Harvey is paid excessive amounts of money to plan their joyous Christmas wedding.

"Love is just a particularly socially accepted form of fraud. It's a series of increasingly complex and fragile deceptions between two or more people, and, more alarmingly, between each participant and their own deluded subconscious."

i literally cannot recommend this fic enough. this might be my favourite read of the entire year, dead serious. this sounds fluffy but trust me, the pining and the angst go well like salt on a chocolate chip cookie: extremely decadent. everything about this fic goes insane and this should be your gateway drug into marvey, im so serious about this. READ IT. (weddingplanner!harvey)

of all the gin joints by @frivoloussuits (10k+, au)

Hanging around a neighborhood bar one night, Harvey befriends a guy named Mike after realizing they can both quote The Princess Bride on demand. In the law offices of Rand, Kaldor, Zane and Pearson, senior partner Harvey Specter takes on an unusual case, representing his managing partner's daughter as she divorces a Michael James Ross. Harvey sees no connection until it's far too late.

"They’re playing a virtuosic duet with inhuman ease, as if the intoxication has broken their boundaries and blurred them into a single entity."

this. obsessed with fics that really use the law in their plots, and this is a prime example. a lot of chemistry in this one that is described in a way that makes you jealous of the bond they share and there are still lines in this fic that i think about almost everyday but honestly, such a top-tier read. PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU LIKE SUFFERING ANF REALLY REALLY GOOD CHEMISTRY PLEASE

5U175 by Closer (26k, canon-adjacent)

Harvey sometimes moonlights as a Star Trek BNF. Mike might have an attitude problem on the internet. TiberiusGhost is strangely compelling, for a recluse who never goes to meetups, and Harvey's finding this kid Photohead vaguely familiar…

i know that the terminology in this one is hella old-school but trust me. as someone who doesnt read a lot of fandom fics, this fic has changed it all for me (also bc the author replied to my comment hehehe) stick with this fic because the way fandom weaves with the character development is absolutely delicious, i remember saying this in my og comment but this fic was written with love for fandom and you should definitely read it too!!! you'd absolutely love it! (also ben stans rise up ^^)

fics to sink your teeth into (20k+)

needs must by @melthemagpie (98k+, au)

When Grammy needs an upgrade in care, Mike knows that the usual one-off gig as a paid submissive won't be enough. He takes a job he's been refusing for a while - a long-term, full-time contract. He expects his client to be a sadistic asshole. He expects not to like it. He's wrong on both counts.

this is a fandom classic, every fic rec has this on the list (cw for dom/sub and prostitution, so if you're uncomfy please dont read) but i swear there are so many romantic moments in this one that make me swoon and the smut is very good, i usually tap out in long fics really quickly but this hooked me the whole way through twice. thats my ringing endorsement, READ THIS

Lobster and Other Catastrophes by @andthetardis (21k, canon-compliant)

After months of silence, Mike starts texting Harvey again out of the blue. Funny thing to do on his honeymoon, really.

BRO PLEASE. this was so good. angsty and pining-y enough even though it's mostly a text fic. text fics to me are more like comedic, but this one had substance and heart (and funny and enjoyable btw). pulls you in and really makes you want to stick it out and get to the beautiful ending <333 (harvey being soft is probably a category on its own :3)

The Game by @frivoloussuits (27k, hunger games au)

Harvey Specter and Donna Paulsen are efficient and elegant killers. They have trained since childhood, mentored personally by Jessica Pearson and marked for years as District 1's Tributes for the Hunger Games. Mike Ross is an orphan from District 12, a drug dealer, and an underage gambler. After years of scrutinizing the Hunger Games on TV to make savvy bets, he finds himself on the wrong side of the camera, now playing the odds just to survive. Harvey and Mike cannot, should not trust each other. Still, they strike a backroom deal.

"Because he’s clever and quick-thinking and he’s learned her main lesson well– don’t love anyone you wouldn’t be willing to see dead. Ideally, don’t love anyone at all."

I READ THIS WHEN I WAS REVISITING HUNGER GAMES AND OHHHHH THIS HAS THE ANGST. absolutely riveting. ths is the third fic im reccing from them bc i love frivoloussuits. i would die for them HHFSHFHKSDGDHFG i love the angst and the life-threatening situations that the hunger games provide and harvey as a career is correct. its just correct. everything here grips my soul

Disaster Stories by agatestones (22k, canon-compliant)

"Hold on," Mike asked, "you made Donna come into work in the middle of a blizzard?" "I don't make Donna do anything. Haven't you learned by now?" Harvey gave Mike a mean little smile, but under that was relief for anyone to see. "You, I can make come into the office in a blizzard."

reads like a novella to me, and it's really good!!! very episodic and you really feel like these are things that have happened in universe. its very slice of lifey and i reread it a lot as a comfort read, its like a big hug to me

Pizza and a Movie by Closer (30k+, au)

In an alternate universe, Harvey's still a lawyer but Mike's not a pot runner -- he's a deliveryman for Rollo's Pizza and Ribs, which happens to be Harvey's favorite pizza place. Once Harvey finds out his pizza guy is a genius, Mike's life takes a few turns he would not have expected...

i swear this is the most rom-commy fic marvey has to offer. i like aus that slap me in the face more with the alternate universe, but this is such a rom-com plot. fandom classic as well and it really reads like a hugh grant 90s movie and if thats not enough to pull you in idk what will tbh

Imprimatur by Closer (22k, au)

Mike was raised to believe Imprint was a life-changing event for those few lucky enough to experience it. Harvey was raised to believe it was a form of mental illness. When it actually happened, neither of them noticed.

this goes absolutely crazy. one of those fics where you read it and you almost want to throw your phone at the wall because the characters could make it so easy if they werent so stupid (but in a good way of course) but the way it was written, you feel the depth of the soulmate bond and why its so important (which a lot of soulmate aus forget to do loll) but goes down like an expensive and delicious dinner :)

afternoon reads (10k+)

Sony SRF-39FP by @frivoloussuits (11k+, canon-adjacent)

Anita Gibbs won’t settle for Mike, not when there are name partners within her reach. She offers only one deal– two years, no other charges against anyone else in the firm, as long as Harvey Specter turns himself in. And even as Donna and Jessica and Louis and Mike beg him not to, he jumps on the grenade. “Time to get busy living or get busy dying,” he remarks, and Mike gives a small chuckle. Then Harvey smirks, straightens his suit jacket, and strides into FCI Danbury.

“I can’t believe they’re trying to lock you in a box and forget about you,” Mike sighs as he leaves.

“Well, as long as you don’t forget me, I figure I’ll survive.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but forgetting’s never been my strong suit.

cw for depersonalization and desc of solitary confinement, very very heavy but the way mike is there throughout everything makes my heart twinge. i really dont know how to describe this fic at all but its really good. it makes me cry a lot. also made me start listening to jazz which- uh

Here at the end of all things by @tattooedsiren (10k, au)

When he arrives at the Pearson Hardman building the lights are dimmed and the floor is deserted. His feet carry him to Harvey's office even though he expects it to be empty. Because Harvey probably fled the city via helicopter or teleporter or sheer force of will. But when he approaches the office he can see that Harvey is there. He has moved the couch so that it now faces the floor to ceiling windows and Mike silently sits beside Harvey, joins him in looking down at the chaos engulfing the city below. [Apocalypse AU]

I LOVE APOCALYPSE FICS UP UP UP badass!harvey makes me bark, but im a really big fan of people who find happiness in the worst circumstances and this fic does it so so so well. reminds me a lot of tlou episode like 2? the one with the strawberries. please this is what i revisit when i miss marvey and i dont have a lot of time because the world and the characters are jsut so delicious!!!

quick reads (1k+)

This Love is Silent by kim47 (8k, canon-compliant)

She should have known. She had known, that something was off, at least. She knew he was hiding something. She just never imagined it could be this. Despite Harvey's warnings, Mike tells Rachel the truth about everything. She's shocked, naturally, and more than a little angry, but she agrees to keep his secret, and even to date him. So when they break up, Harvey goes into damage-control mode.

RACHEL!! HELLO RACHEL!! im always up for smart and discerning rachel (this shows up in of all the gin joints too btw!!!) this runs realistic to me because it shows that rachelxmike arent some hopelessly wrong for each other couple, they have good and bad times. this feels more real to me than other fics bc its not like the world conspires for marvey to be apart, its just life. i know this makes it sound so sad, and it is, but trust me: this is really really really good i love this so much

an archive of harvey specter's expressions by @frivoloussuits (2k, canon-compliant)

Five old expressions that Mike rediscovers in new contexts once he and Harvey are (finally) together, and one that he sees for the first time. Alternatively titled “An Ode to Gabriel Macht’s Face.”

this was written for me. this is literally me. writing fic because gabriel macht is too pretty, like this fic is literally for me. a lot of peering at him to get this fic as masterfully written as it is, and i thank you author everyday for it. to me, this reads like it's been written with love and care and true adoration (Truly, like Mike)

Coffee-Cart Client Privilege by @frivoloussuits (7k, au)

Mike runs a coffee cart. The coffee cart.

"Why not? They're too big and dense to be a snack." So are you, Mike thinks, and yet.

IM SORRY I KEEP RECCING FRIVOLOUS SUITS THEYRE MY FAVOURITE WRITER IN THIS FANDOM HFBKABFDKHFBHKDSA this has the hand-wavy logic the show has itself but mike's internal monologue in this one is one of the best ive ever read and the way mike's integrated in the offices is just so well-done ahhhh

Objection by yeah its frivoloussuits again i feel bad tagging them like 7 times (2k, canon-adjacent)

When Mike announces he’s leaving, Harvey plans to hide the jagged pieces of his broken heart deep inside, where no one will ever find them. His heart would like to object.

BIGG fan of physical hurt/comfort!!!! also big fan of people absolutely freaking out in the hospital in fics, it makes me bounce of the wall!! very short but the angst and love really hits you quick and leaves you on the floor gasping for air. very good (also cant prove this but im very sure this is a scrubs reference.t hanks)

Excerpts From The Gospel of Harvey Specter, edited by Michael "Forever Awesome" Ross, 2011, 1st Ed, by @rcmclachlan (7k, canon compliant)

Mike can totally read people. Well, most people. Some people. Or maybe just Harvey, who's pretty much an open book.

this one's really funny! it doesent follow direct prose and instead plays a lot with the setting its in (where mike's a documenter of harvey) and its just so funny and adorable. has a lot of heart too, it isn't just crack or anything but you really feel everything mike does as he writes all this, read this!!1

One More Sleepless Night by @sal_si_puedes (9k, au)

Soul Bonds are one-sided – there’s usually mutual affection, but only one party feels the crippling need to be together as often as possible. If separated at length from their love, that party becomes crushed by longing, panic, and sheer hopelessness, and so it is illegal to forcibly keep Soulmates apart. Some days, Harvey Specter hates the Bond that skews his judgement and weakens his resolve, and he fears what would happen if anyone in his world ever discovers he is so compromised. He certainly never planned to disclose the Bond for the first time in the middle of Anita Gibbs’ office, in a last-ditch attempt to invalidate the deal sending Mike to prison.

HSDGFHSDKGHRLKGHK THIS FIC. i love fics that use more than just prose to tell their stories (see above fic) and this does my favourite thing that soulmate aus do, which is where they integrate in-universe explanations for the phenomenon. the amount of work and dedication put into this fic makes it absolutely sing and was absolutely lovely!!

also pspspsps

golden like the daffodils by @mini-mart (2k, canon-compliant)

Poetry holds meaning, for anyone who reads it. It obscures and dances around the literal and metaphorical, because it’s imbued with so much of something that it overflows out of any definition. It can make someone mad, or lovesick, or aroused, and the reactions would be absolutely warranted. Mike is poetry, to Harvey. - Harvey Specter could be a good politician, as he believes in pragmatism over poetry. He won't let his progress fall apart, won't let someone knock it down. And then someone unceremoniously cracks open a suitcase at his feet. Or: Harvey, pretty boys and poetry.

yeah yeah i wrote this yeah yeah self promo smth smth

there's a lot more that isn't here but i'll probably write a new one when i go for a deep dive through the ship tags again :3

^^ ao3 etiqutte applies! if you like the fic, kudos and comment and bookmark!! show your love! happy reading marveys! my gift to u :3

#marvey #suits tv #suits #mike ross #harvey specter #marvey fic recs #marvey fic #ao3 #fic rec list #fic recs #tbr #fanfiction #103 #GUYS PLEASE READ THIS #mikexharvey

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phfenomena · 4 months

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❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.

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beardedjoel · 7 months

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pretty little wife | meet cute, part 1

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 8.3k words; you didn't feel like going out for your friends birthday that night, but it turned out fate had very different plans for you. or a flashback to the night joel and pretty wife met. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, relationship not established here like the other chapters, unprotected piv, public sex, rough sex, sub/dom relationship, dirty talk, pet names for reader, alcohol consumption a/n: this was getting super long and has been so much fun to write so i'm splitting it into two parts to also show their first date! i'm actually so obsessed with them its getting delusional and not even funny anymore but i digress

You hadn’t particularly wanted to go out tonight, but it was your friend Hanna’s birthday and her soft, doe-like eyes when she’d begged you to come had you giving in quickly. Sure, you had what felt like a million things to study for, homework piling up, but the more you thought about it, the better a night out sounded.

She’d picked a relatively nondescript dive bar as her venue of choice, saying that it had cheap drinks, and seeing as it was her 21st birthday, she wanted to get drunk for as little money as possible.

You and about ten other girls file into the bar, immediately having what feels like every set of eyes in the room on you all. You’d bet it’s not every day that an overdressed, loud group of young twenty-something’s walks into this place ready to get plastered.

You all crowd around a few tables, pushing them together, and Hanna spots a jukebox, excitedly gushing over the way she’s going to put on all of her favorite songs later and dance when she gets drunk enough.

After your first cocktail, you’re already having so much fun that you wonder why you even had any doubts about coming out tonight. You laugh hard at something one of your friends, Rachel, says and your face falls immediately as your attention catches on something across the room. Not something, but someone.

A man, who you’d guess is somewhere in his forties or fifties from the looks of it, is sitting with his own group. Even in the darkened shadows of the room, you’re mesmerized - he has a grumpy smile on his face as he chats with the person next to him. He runs a hand through grown out, dark curls and you can see the top half of his body above the bar top, muscled and broad and so inviting.

You force yourself to blink, about to look away, when you see his eyes catch on yours. You feel your heart sink, hoping he didn’t catch you staring so intently, but swear he gives you a little wink before turning back to his beer that he’s nursing in one hand. Your insides flutter at the gesture, hoping your delusional self didn’t just imagine him sending that wink your way.

You feel your stomach twist, and realize that despite how attractive you think he is, you’re typically way too shy to make the first move, so it’s unlikely much will come of this newfound attraction. You couldn’t help but continue to glance at him while you chat with your friends for the next hour, drinking in his mannerisms and ruggedly good looks, wishing you could hear what he was saying across this crowded, noisy room.

You’d never felt like this before upon simply seeing someone, and it made your brain buzz more than the alcohol was, a steady little humming in the back of your mind. In fact, you hadn’t had more than a cocktail at this point, and were actively trying to blame this crazy feeling you were having on anything other than the handsome stranger you just couldn’t seem to stop staring at.

You decide maybe another drink would help, so you break off from your friends to go up to the bar and order something.

You’re looking over the list of cocktails on a concerningly sticky laminated menu, scrunching your face up in disgust. You knew this place was divey, but their list of cocktails is downright depressing. Your first one hadn’t been very good, either, so you decide to change directions and order a beer instead.

You glance around the room as you wait to catch the busy bartender’s attention while they flit around, taking orders and making beverages. Your eyes widen a bit as they land on Handsome Stranger, who is now openly meeting your gaze without shame.

You try to avert your eyes out of pure embarrassment, but you keep yourself staring for a moment too long before nervously chewing your lip and gazing down at the bar, pretending to be overly interested in the menu again.

When you gather the courage to glance back up at where he was sitting, Handsome Stranger is gone, and you survey the area in a tiny panic, swinging your head to the side only to see him curving around the edge of the bar and walking straight towards you.

He’s coming over. Oh god.

He settles himself against the bar right next to you and clears his throat a little, cocking his head.

“Hi, there,” he says, and your jaw nearly drops at the husky, rasping accented voice that drips off his tongue like one of the sweetest sounds your ears have ever heard. You actively fight a shudder that wants to wrack your body, thinking of what that deep rumble would sound like against your neck, your lips, your everywhere.

You give him a nervous chuckle and swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Hey,” you reply, wishing you suddenly felt less shy under his dark, brooding gaze. You suddenly are overly aware of how loud the room is, a myriad of classic rock, pop, rap, and everything in between blaring through the speakers from the jukebox the entire night. The realization hits you that you two may have to get closer to hear each other coherently and your stomach twists a little in anticipation.

“Listen, I don’t usually do-“ he starts, but you can’t catch what he’s saying over the noise, so you scrunch your brows together and cup your ear in his direction.

“What’s that?” You feel like you practically yell the words to him, your cheeks heating as he starts to lean closer. His face is merely inches from yours now, his mouth angled towards your ear. You get a better look at his face now, his dark, wiry beard with a few graying patches, and some deeper set lines in his face surrounded by speckled, tan skin. He’s rugged and handsome and everything that turns you on personified. It’s actually insane, now that you think about it, to see someone so seemingly perfectly made for you looks-wise, let alone have them interested in talking to you.

“I said…” the man says, clearing his throat again. “I don’t usually do this kinda thing, but…” he trails off, studying your face for a few moments. You watch on intently, already enraptured by his words, not even able to form a follow up to prompt him to continue speaking.

“But you’re so damn beautiful I had to say somethin’ to ya before you snuck away,” he says. His voice hits deep in your core now that it’s closer, sending you belly swirling in a sickly addictive feeling, one that you already know will be hard to shake tonight. You blink hard, wondering if he’d managed to speak to the wrong girl, but he’s looking right into your eyes without an ounce of doubt hidden behind those dark irises.

“I… don’t know about that…” you mumble, but he cocks his head further, brows knitted together.

“Would never say somethin’ like that if I wasn’t telling the truth,” he replies a bit more seriously. You bite your lip and decide that maybe you do trust him - that this handsome, mystery man really does have eyes for you in a bar full of attractive women.

“Well, thank you,” you say, puffing your chest up a bit with a smile. “You’re not too bad looking yourself,” you add on, finally feeling a bit of your icy shyness melting away.

He chuckles lightly, rubbing a nervous hand behind his neck, leaving a red mark in its wake. “Would you have a drink with me?”

You lick your lips and then bite the bottom one, contemplating. You don’t fail to notice Joel’s eyes flick down to that exact spot, then to your throat where you swallow again.

“I’d like that.”

“Somewhere quieter?” he calls out towards your ear, and you nod enthusiastically. He orders you two drinks, shooting an eyebrow up when you request a beer as well, and leads you to a small, cozy booth off to the side where there at the least aren’t speakers directly over your heads.

“Now,” he rumbles out, folding his hands on top of the table “What’s a girl like you doin’ here?” he asks as you slide into the seat across from him and settle in.

You breathe an amused laugh through your nose. “My friends,” you say, motioning with a thumb over your shoulder in their direction, where they’re seemingly still having a great time together, a fit of giggles as they all sip their drinks. “One friend wanted the divey experience tonight for her birthday, I guess. Cheap drinks.”

Handsome Stranger’s eyes flick past you to your friends, and you see a flash of recognition as he processes Hanna’s extremely gaudy 21st birthday sash. You can see the gears turning, see him putting the pieces together as his lips part from the tight line they’d been settled in.

“Hmm,” he grumbles, eyes back on you and seeming to consider you for a moment, taking in your face and making you feel your body temperature suddenly rising. You want to tug on your collar, do something to alleviate it, but can’t give him the satisfaction.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, breaking completely under his stare. “I- I’ll be twenty two soon, so… I’m not…” you trail off, losing all conviction in whatever message you were trying to convey. Handsome Stranger has been too quiet, too guarded regarding this new information, and you feel your stomach turn nervously.

“Did I just mess this up?” you blurt out, your face betraying you completely and contorting into a worried expression. He gives you a tired sounding chuckle, running a hand through his beard then back around to his neck.

“No, darlin’, sorry. I - I don’t have a problem with it. Jus’ needed a second. You look… a bit older, so I was surprised, I guess.”

Your shoulders sag in relief - you hadn’t expected to be so devastated at the prospect of losing your new acquaintance’s attention so quickly, and only because of your age. You’d always been interested in older men, and had even been on a few dates with some, but nobody that pulled you in immediately like the stunningly gorgeous man sitting in front of you now.

You lower your eyes to your lap, wringing your hands together. “You don’t have to be nice, I understand if you’re not interested. I’ve ended up being too young for a lot of guys I’ve talked to.”

“You’re talkin’ to a lot of guys my age, are you?”

Your eyes shoot back up to him, finding a new confidence that he’s still flirting with you. You shrug casually, fluttering your lashes a bit as you smirk. “Maybe, maybe not.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. “I gotta say, I don’t think I like that.”

You lean forward on the table, folding your arms in front of you as you rest your forearms down to support yourself. You stare into his dark yet warm eyes and try your best to cock an intimidating eyebrow.

“And why is that?” you ask, upping your voice an octave, trying to sound more innocent.

Handsome Stranger takes a deep breath, sighing and mirroring you by leaning himself closer to you. You can inspect him even closer now, smell the beer on him and whatever that musky, manly scent is that he carries with him, something you can already tell will be addictive.

“‘Cause I want you all to myself.”

You stun at his words a little, knowing that your face is giving it away - your confident, fierce facade fading in an instant. You lick your lips nervously, his dark, desirous tone digging deep inside of you, lodging itself in your core and starting another pooling of arousal between your legs. You finally turn your lips up a little, meeting his gaze with a hard stare again while you put your chin in your hands.

“You’ve got me right here, don’t you?”

He seems to like that, breaking the intensity between you two with a small laugh, leaning back and taking a long sip of his beer.

“I’m Joel,” he says, and your smile widens as you consider the name on him, finding it suits him perfectly. It dawns on you that you’d been so absorbed in the conversation you didn’t even realize that you had no clue what his name was, that you may have even been content to fall in love with the man right here tonight and not even know his name.

You tell him your name in return and it gets a genuine grin out of him, like hearing it for the first time was an answer to a question he’d long been asking himself.

“You know, I could ask you the same thing - what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Don’t think I look like the kind of guy who spends his nights in a place like this?”

“I mean… sort of…” you say shyly, trying not to laugh nervously. “You come here a lot?”

Joel seems amused by the way he’s getting you to blush and stutter. “Sometimes, with some crew from work. But that‘s what I'd expect, not… someone like you, honey. Ain’t no place for someone like you.”

“Well,” you twist your lips to the side teasingly. “I’m here, whether you like it or not.”

“Or not?” Joel chuckles incredulously. “Think I made it clear I certainly like it.”

You just give him a smug smile and sip from your drink, trying not to make a sour face in front of Joel, who seems to actually be enjoying his beer quite a bit. You’ve never been a big fan of beer, but it’s at least better than those stomach churning cocktails.

“So, here with people from work… what do you do?”

“Contracting. Jus’ started my own company, actually. With my brother.” Joel tells you, and you give him an impressed raise of your eyebrows.

“That’s really cool. Very impressive that you’re the big boss.” You lean in again to show your interest and toss your hair over your shoulder.

Joel’s eyes flash a little darker. “Like hearin’ that name from you,” he chuckles, “Otherwise it’s been a lot of pressure to be the boss, I guess.”

“Is it going well, though?”

Joel nods with a little shrug. “S’okay. Pickin’ up now so we’re doin’ good.”

You give him an encouraging smile, trying to think of what to say next, feeling like a nervous mess around him, wanting him to think you’re interesting and worth his time, not just some young girl with nothing to offer.

“Now what about you? Assume you’re in school?” he asks.

You try not to roll your eyes at the sore subject and breathe out a sigh. “Yeah, I am. I just… I’m not really into it.”

Joel looks on curiously. “Uh-huh. Boring classes?”

“Not even that. I just don’t… like it. I’m so tired of having no clue what I’m doing. I thought about teaching, doing something like that, but I don’t know…” You let out a small sigh. “Sounds entitled or stupid maybe, but I just can’t find my passion there.” You feel your frustration coming out unfairly onto Joel, dropping your hands onto the table with an irritated thud.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Joel says, laying one of his hands on the table, offering it to you as he slides it over, resting it on top of yours. “Some people ain’t meant for school. I didn’t really have a choice to not go to college, but worked out alright for m’self, right?”

You nod with a thoughtful look, despite barely knowing much of anything about how things worked out for Joel, but you believe him. Or at the least, he sounded happy enough to be owning his own contracting company.

“Thanks,” you say simply, offering him a grateful smile.

Joel leans forward again on the table, not moving his hand from yours, and you feel hot all over. “‘Course. Now how ‘bout I help you find what you’re passionate about, hm?”

An hour and several more drinks later, you’ve moved over to Joel’s side of the booth at his insistence, where he pulled you nearly onto his lap, your thighs crossed over his as your ass is planted in the booth right next to him. A steady arm of his is wrapped around your back and pulling you close to him, stroking relaxed circles as you two chat. You feel perfectly content, buzzed from the alcohol and comfortable in Joel’s embrace, despite this being the first night you’ve even met him Something about him has put you at ease yet excited you, a consistent skittering of electricity across your skin where it connects to his.

You’ve discovered that you have more in common with a man in his mid forties than you might have thought. But along the way you’ve noted enough differences that you two have to keep the conversation balanced, having different interests and perspectives to add into the mix. Your banter has some kind of alluring pull with Joel, never stopping the beautiful flow of chatter and laughter you’ve found together until he leans in on a quieter moment, kissing your cheek and then moving to your neck. You feel your breath hitch at the warmth of his lips, your body stiffening yet going soft for him, breathing out shakily.

“Mm,” you whimper quietly, unsure if he can hear it over the noise of the room.

“Like it when I kiss you here, hm?” he rumbles, moving his lips to your ear where he ghosts his lips over your sensitive earlobe then back down to your neck.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to say, eyes fluttering as you lean further into him. He keeps kissing every sensitive little bit of skin on your neck, trailing down to your collarbone and inward. “Jesus…” you whimper as he suddenly sucks lightly on your neck, testing you.

“I gotta mark you, let everyone know…” he murmurs, sucking another spot not even inches away. You squirm, grinding your ass into the seat as you rub your legs together, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel. “You’re mine tonight.”

You feel your cunt clench around nothing, squeezing tightly and wishing some part of him was filling that void, letting you squeeze around it while he practically makes you come just by putting his lips to your neck.

“Mhm… yours…” you mumble, lolling your head back in the throes of your pleasure.

“Taste so good, sweetheart, bet you’re just as sweet everywhere else, too,” Joel says, his tongue flicking along where he’s just sucked harder, testing the waters.

You can only moan quietly, not even daring to think about the other people in the crowded bar who could be witness to your overly raunchy public display. In fact, you find that you barely care, not with the way Joel’s lips feel like heaven every time they touch you, the way he’s making little satisfied noises next to your ear as your body responds to him.

“Joel…” you moan wantonly, starting to go more limp in his hold as he continues teasing you. He slips a hand between your tightly squeezed together thighs, bringing his palm up to cup the outside of your jeans. You know he must feel how warm and damp you are, even through the few layers there - he’s thoroughly teased you to a point where you’re hurting, your cunt aching and pulsing for him, dripping and soaking your panties.

“Christ…” you hear Joel exhale, his breath catching for a moment in his throat. “Fuckin’ soaked for me. Someone needs to get taken care of, doesn’t she?”

You only nod as he palms you harder while he’s speaking, desperate and unable to even find the words. You’re completely undone, trying to come to terms with the fact that Joel is about to ruin any other man for you in just a few short moments together.

“C’mon, then, let’s go,” Joel announces, patting your thigh, urging you to move. You follow him, beckoning you out of your seat with him, grasping your hand as he leads you to the bathroom. Your skin tingles where he holds your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours, and your palms sweat as heat courses through you, settling and pooling deep between your legs.

You two burst through the door, saying a silent thank you that it’s just a single person restroom at this bar - no stalls, no other people to shoo out of the way. Joel slams the door behind you with built up aggression and you hear the lock click.

He’s on you before you can even register that it’s happening, pressing himself close and wrapping one of his large palms around the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. He pulls your head towards his eagerly, crashing his lips into you, not giving you an inch of space with the way he’s tugging your head closer.

You both ravenously clash teeth and tongues and lips until you’re practically breathless. One hand bunches on his shirt, clutching him to you, the other wrapped around his neck, burying itself in the dark hair that curls down. Your bodies draw together over and over, starting a steady grind on each other, barely even registering where one body begins and ends as you both chase pleasure using the other's body.

You moan quietly when you start to feel him against your steadily aching cunt, his erection warm and pressing against his jeans. Your hands shake a little with excitement as you reach in between your bodies to grab him outside the denim, and he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, finally pulling his lips away from yours. He looks down at your swollen, puffy lips, chin red underneath from his scratchy facial hair. He can’t take his eyes off of yours though, so bright and eager for him as your pupils blow out with desire.

“Don’t usually do this either, get random girls into the bathroom with me, swear,” he adds, and you laugh a little against his lips.

“I’m hearing a lot of that from you tonight,” you tease.

“Jus’ the effect a girl like you has on me,” he quips back, and you find your cheeks warming and flushing at his words. Despite having just met him not even a few hours ago, you find that you believe him, that you are someone special to him. This strange connection, this pull you feel towards him has you questioning many things, and especially the fact that you’re fully about to fuck someone in a public restroom - something you’d never have imagined yourself doing.

Until Joel.

He seems more in control now, leaning forward to pepper your face with kisses, catching the corners of your mouth and pulling away just before you can meet his lips again. You pout as he does it for the third time, moving his lips right underneath to your chin, soothing the irritated skin there from his beard hairs. He finally gives in, kissing you with an open mouth, lapping his tongue sensually against yours, while his hands slip down your back and to your ass. You nearly melt, the intense softness of the way his mouth is moving on yours is starting to make you dizzy. You lean closer for support and Joel catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger as soon as he pulls away from the kiss.

“Get on your knees f’me, hm?” he says, studying your expression to read your reaction to his request.

You only consider it for a moment, the hardness of the floor on your knees, the dirtiness of it all, but your body and mind both tug at you, your knees feeling a buzzing, like they need to go down and touch this cold, unrelenting floor for him. You’d never considered yourself a very dominant person in your past relationships, but you’d also never had anyone trying to dominate you.

Not like this, at least. Not with the tone he’s using, the way he’s looking at you like he knows you’ll do it for him, like he knows you want to listen to him. To be good for him.

Your knees bend, settling in front of him as you place your hands on his hips. You lick your lips absentmindedly, thinking about them settling around the cock you can see pressing against his pants. You feel a new flood of arousal at the thought, the way you’d never have considered doing something like this in the bathroom of a bar, but you like this side of you that Joel is bringing out.

“Fuck. Good girl,” he rasps, and you stop, your lips popping open at his words, like something in your brain suddenly clicked into place at what you heard.

“Can you s-say it again,” you ask quietly, reaching up slowly to his belt.

“What? Like being called a good girl, do you?” Joel’s smile curls into something sinister, and he tucks his fingers under your chin, making sure you’re looking up at him from where you kneel. “Jus’ happens I like to fuck good girls, so you’re in luck.”

You can only remind yourself to breathe as his words flood you, douse you in complete and utter arousal on every inch of your body, leaving you speechless. Your skin practically tingles as you wait for his next move, hands frozen on his belt.

“I’ll be good for you,” you whimper when he releases your chin, your head falling down a bit with the sudden loss of his support. Your hands get back to work, and Joel watches with satisfaction, a hand coming down to stroke the back of your head. You nearly find yourself purring like a cat, feeling a rumble of satisfaction deep inside of yourself at the gesture.

“Mm,” Joel says, his eyes narrowing down at you. “Much as I want your mouth on me, we’ve got our whole lives for you to suck my cock, pretty girl, and tonight… I need to fuck you. Like nothin’ I’ve ever needed before in my life.”

Before you can even reply his hands tug you up from the floor and you stumble into his arms, caught by the sheer size and strength of his entire body against you. He swings you as you crash into him, pressing you back against the sink counter. His hands expertly unbutton your black, skintight jeans, unzipping them and starting to shimmy them down over your ass, his lips still attached to yours.

“God damn it, makin’ it hard, ain’t you, with these tight little pants…” he murmurs, moving his full attention to pulling down your jeans, finally getting them to your ankles.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t like my jeans?” you ask innocently as you step out of them, and Joel takes in your black lace panties, wetting his lips at the sight. Joel just growls in response, a resounding yes, bumping you so that your ass hits the counter again.

“Up” A simple command, but you’re too lost in the moment, feeling every inch of his body burning into yours, so you hesitate. “Don’t make me ask again,” he snips, and you feel your insides twist, your cunt clench around nothing inside of your soaked panties at his commandeering tone. You stand on your tip toes and let him help hoist you onto the counter. He steps forward between your legs, his face now level with yours and his hips coming flush with you.

“Look at that… perfect fit,” he comments with a smirk, looking over the way your bodies are coming together, the way his cock will shortly have the perfect angle to slide into your tight hole.

You give him a little giggle. “Perfect…” you echo, smiling as you look between your legs and then back up to his face.

Joel’s thumbs dig under the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down with the help of you lifting your hips. He holds them up, inspecting the slick, shiny stain you’d left, taking up most of the underwear. He simply shakes his head, fingering the wetness and smirking before balling it up and stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Amused, you smile dazedly at him and reach out to grab at his arms, pulling him closer. Your fingers dig into his muscled biceps and you bite your lip at how absolutely fucking hot it feels.

“Look at that little pussy, doll, so pretty, ain’t it. Gonna be all mine,” Joel says, peering in between your legs as he works on his belt and zipper. When his cock springs free from his jeans you try to hold back your stunned gasp, but Joel notices it, the way your eyes widen as you breathe in sharply. He’s not just big, he’s thick, and while you have some experience, this is certainly new and uncharted territory for you.

“Hey,” Joel says, pulling you back to reality as he puts both hands on the sides of your face. “I know, but we can go slow if you need. Won’t be upset.”

You’re reeling with so many different thoughts - the rational part of your brain wanting to take Joel up on that offer, but the absolutely batshit crazy for him part of your brain doesn’t care one bit, only wanting him to take you, make you his.

You slowly shake your head, meeting his stare from under your brows. “Don’t…” You wet your lips, pouting them out for him. “Go slow. Fuck me like you mean it, like I know you want to.”

Joel completely breaks, shaking his head and his expression twists into something completely feral, part of him gone to that other side of him, the one you know that needs you just as badly as you need him.

“So fuckin’ obedient. Such a good girl.” You clench at his words, finding your body practically has an involuntary response to hearing his praise, drunk on it and desperate for more. He smirks, pressing himself close, both hands snaking around to the globes of your ass as they sit on the counter and squeezing. He delivers a swift slap to one of them before tugging hard, bringing you flush with his cock now resting at your entrance. You moan and gasp with the pain and pleasure of his palm smacking your flesh but give him a needy look as encouragement.

“Gonna take me like the dirty little slut you are, lettin’ me fuck you in this bathroom,” Joel growls out as he presses forward, the head of his cock bursting into your entrance with one swift push of his hips. You whimper and nod to answer him, completely distracted now.

You can feel yourself clench all over, just the thickness of his head is overwhelming, but he doesn’t stop, just slides into you inch by inch and you swallow hard and try not to tremble too much. You feel his head kissing deep inside of you, and your mind is swimming, wondering how you’re even taking so much of him right now.

“Good girl, that’s right, take it so good…” Joel mumbles, his eyes hazy and dreamy as he feels you tighten and contract around him. He gently kneads where he’s holding onto your ass to try to soothe you.

Your hold on his shoulders reaches a death grip as he starts to move inside of you, slowly at first. You find yourself appreciating that despite telling him to fuck you hard, he’s still being careful at first just in case. You buck your hips forward, pressing him just the tiniest bit deeper. Joel hums a little and chuckles at your insistence.

“That eager, are you?”

“I told you to fuck me like you want to,” you snip back, rolling your hips into his again.

Joel leans forward to bury his face against your neck, sighing. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, darlin’, makin’ me crazy.”

His lips flit down to your chest, where your low cut tank top is askew now, tits half falling out. He palms one of them before pulling your shirt down so that they’re both spilling out.

“Don’t keep these pretty things from me, wanna watch ‘em when I fuck you,” he says, and you smirk, seeing how worked up Joel already is over you. It makes you feel so good, so desired, so unlike any other man you’ve been with before.

He slides his cock into you a little faster, picking up speed with each thrust until you’re sure you can’t take it anymore. You know your face is contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain, unsure how your body is even accommodating his girth right now, feeling like you’re being split open, your insides completely full of him.

“My god, oh my god,” you mumble breathily, your brows knit in a concentrated look, trying to focus on the pleasure rather than the pain.

“Thas’ it, babydoll, you got this, focus on me,” Joel encourages you, and you try to relax your body, feeling yourself finally adjusting more to his size. “Good girl, take it so good, yeah.”

He looks down to where your bodies meet with a satisfied smile, seeing you stretch over and over as you take his cock repeatedly. He’s starting to hit a heavenly pace now that your body is molding to his, taking him like you were made for it as he starts to jackhammer into you. You moan his name quietly under your breath, holding back as you hear the drone of the muffled music outside the bathroom, reminding you that you’re in a public space.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Joel grunts out as he, “Be a good girl and be loud f’me. I can see you holdin’ back.”

“Feels so good… so big, Joel,” you moan out a little louder,

“Thas’ right, baby, my big cock fits perfectly in this tight little cunt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod eagerly, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, anchoring yourself to him while he pounds into you. You’re deliriously accepting all of it through the pain, the kind that’s nearly addicting because your body knows it’s good. You respond heartily to him, squelching, pornographic sounds reverberating in the bathroom as he pumps his length in and out of you.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ eager, so fuckin’ wet… c’mere,” Joel says suddenly, pulling out of you and yanking you by the hips off the counter where you land on shaky feet. He spins you and thrusts you against the counter, fumbling slightly as he grabs at your ass cheeks and spreads them apart. One hand slams onto your back as his cock slides between your legs and splits you open again, the sting of the stretch coming right back to you for a moment as you gasp. He pushes down, laying you flat onto the cold countertop, your bare tits pressed against it.

“Up a little, let me see those perfect tits, honey,” Joel says, a hand going to your hair to yank on it, making you arch your back enough to get your chest off of the linoleum. “That’s right, there we go, so fuckin’ pretty,” Joel says, keeping his hand buried in your scalp, your locks gripped tightly in his palm to continue keeping you right where he wants you. You feel your tits bouncing like he wanted, your nipples grazing against the countertop each time he thrusts you forward. The sensitive buds send wave after wave of arousal through you each time they contact the cool surface, and as he lifts your hips slightly you nearly choke as he hits something deep and pleasurable inside of you.

“Oh… oh… n-no it’s too much…” you mumble, feeling like your eyes could start to cross every time you feel him pressing near this part of you, so you flutter them shut.

“Uh-uh. Eyes open, wanna see you lookin’ in this mirror at how pretty y’look right now.” Joel yanks tenderly on your hair, not as hard this time, keeping your attention. You pop your eyes open, and look at yourself, heavy lidded, cloudy, hardly recognizing yourself or anything around you. Only able to feel the way Joel is impaling you with the strangest, most intense, pleasurable feeling you’ve ever had inside of yourself.

“Wh- wh- it feels so - o-oh my god, I c-can’t,” you cry out at the tail end of your sentence as Joel jolts his hips harder, flesh slapping against flesh repeatedly.

“S’okay, you’re takin’ it so good, doll, that’s jus’ your g-spot, baby, don’t worry,” Joel says soothingly, switching over to a protective mode for a moment when he can see the worry flash in your eyes.

Your mouth falls open and you let out a languid, fraught moan as he tilts your hips a little more, catching the spot on a new angle. If you were being honest, you’d never stimulated your g-spot before - not by yourself, and certainly not with any other men, and now you were wondering how you’d lived without doing it for so long. It felt like the sweetest build up of pleasure, filling a hole deep inside of yourself with warmth, starting to tingle all the way through your body to the tips of your limbs.

“Fuck… don’t stop, don’t stop, please,” you cry out, feeling your knees shake, supported by Joel as he presses against you and keeps a tight hold on your hips. “I’m - shit - I’m coming, Joel. Harder, please.”

“So,” Joel spits out with a thrust. “Fuckin.” Thrust. “Polite.” Thrust. “Pretty girl.” He ups his pace even more, something you weren’t sure was possible and you’re bouncing forward, the edge of the counter digging into your torso and head nearing the mirror as he gives you his all.

You explode, a scream of his name clawing out of your throat when the pressure snaps suddenly, sending you practically convulsing, limbs taut and shaking as you clench in spasms around him.

“Babygirl, she feels so tight, squeezin’ me like that,” Joel murmurs in a wavering voice, continuing his unrelenting pace. He wraps his hands underneath where you lean against the counter, cupping your tits and pulling you up as he leans down to meet your body - flesh against flesh, the sweat forming on your back soaking into his soft flannel shirt. You can feel the damp warmth of the fabric, like he’s been sweating through it this entire time, and it smells earthy and like sex already. You feel your orgasm reach a peak at the thought of leaving your scent on him tonight.

“J-joel, come inside me, fuck,” you cry out, meeting his gaze in the mirror with a heady look. For once, Joel follows a command instead of giving one, grunting with a final push of his hips, shooting his spend deep inside of you.

“D-dirty little cumslut, wantin’ me to fill you up, make you mine, mmm” Joel says with a groan, his hips bouncing a few more times while he rides down his high.

You can only nod, feeling fully fucked out and limp while he finishes using your spent cunt. You know it’s risky, that you should have thought more before tossing the idea of a condom aside in your mind, before asking a virtual stranger to pump his seed into you, but you truly don’t care. You only care about Joel, about giving to him what you knew he wanted. He didn’t even have to say it, but the way he fucked you, so rough and unrelenting, he wanted this, wanted to mark you in some way that would stick with you long after he pulls out. He wanted you to go home, find his cum leaking out of you onto your legs for the rest of the evening, be reminded of what he gave to you, how he ruined you.

You both stand in place, breathing heavily until Joel makes the first move, pulling himself out and tucking his cock back into his jeans. You feel raw, achy in the best way, and Joel notices your hesitation to move and wraps an arm around the front of you, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Good girl,” he whispers, biting the lobe and you shudder. “Good fuckin’ girl, y’know that? God…”

“I like being a good girl for you, Joel,” you say lazily, shutting your eyes as you lean back into him.

“Music to my ears, sweetheart. Now let's get you outta here, it’s late and you need some rest.”

Joel leads you out of the bathroom after you both adjust yourselves back to some semblance of normal, a hand on the small of your back as you enter the loud bar, seemingly much less crowded now than when you’d entered the bathroom.

You see your friends, still grouped together but with a few more young, attractive men in the mix, crowded around a tiny table. Your friend Georgia spots you, waving you over with a slightly tired, exasperated look on her face. She’s the assigned designated driver for the night, and you can see that she’s more than ready to start heading out. You peek at the time on your phone and it’s after one in the morning.

“Come on,” she mouths, beckoning you dramatically and you can see your friends gathering up their things, saying their goodbyes to their new male counterparts.

You turn to Joel with an anxious look, and he grasps one of your hands, squeezing tightly.

“Go on, then,” he says softly, “Don’t keep them waitin’.”

You nod with a disappointed smile, wondering if you should have offered to go home with him instead. But the fact that he didn’t ask has already gotten in your head, so you lean forward to kiss him goodbye instead. He gives you a hungry kiss, one you could easily fall right back into, drag him to the bathroom again and let him do everything he just did all over again.

He lets you go, nearly pushing you away with a small growl. You hurry over to your friends, who are shoving your purse and jacket back into your arms and ushering you away. You sneak one last glance back at Joel, standing with his hands in his pockets, wondering how your life could ever be the same after tonight.

You’re in a complete panic, only minutes from your house, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Please, Georgia, we have to go back, we have to - I don’t,” you feel around your bag for something that isn’t there, that you know isn’t there. A scrap of paper, a note, anything.

“Babe, you need to calm down and tell me what’s going on,” she replies, cool and collected as usual.

“Th- the guy. The one I was with. I didn’t get his phone number. Fuck, I don’t even know his last name. I -” A small sob escapes you, and you don’t know where all this emotion is coming from all of a sudden. It’s like when you’d been with Joel, you felt so calm, so even, and you hadn’t even had a chance to think about your emotional investment in what happened tonight.

“Shit. And you think he would have wanted you to have it?” Georgia asks.

You blink, looking over at her, stunned that you hadn’t even thought of whether he wanted to see you again or not. You two hadn’t had a chance to discuss it before you’d been dragged out of the bar, but you’d gotten the sense he was intoxicated by you just as you were him.

“I - think so? It seemed like maybe he would have. But now I’ll probably -” your voice cracks and shakes a little bit. “Never see him again.”

Georgia squeezes your shoulder softly, rubbing circles on it. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s going to be okay though, alright? You never know, the world has weird ways of working things out sometimes.”

You sigh, knowing the chances of that are slim, seeing as nothing that spectacular has ever happened to you before, and you don’t see why the universe would start now. “What if he’s still there, though? We could go back, please…”

“The bar closed twenty minutes ago, you know he’s not there anymore. I’m sorry,” she replies, giving your shoulder a final squeeze before putting both hands on the steering wheel and pulling up in front of your apartment. The last thing you want is to go up to your cramped space, shared with two roommates, nothing feeling truly yours. You want to scour the streets, walk around Austin until you find Joel again, until you can throw yourself in his arms and know you’re going to see him again and again and again. You can’t believe it took you losing him to realize just how much of a hold he has on you after those few short hours spent together.

You hug Georgia a teary goodbye and trudge up to your apartment, each step feeling heavy and painful, until you reach your bed and lay down, crying until you finally find it in you to get up and get ready for sleep.

You’ll be okay, just like Georgia said. You’re still drunk, and that’s it, that’s why you’re so emotional right now. Tomorrow you’ll just be happy you had incredible sex and can move on with your life. Surely, that’s exactly how it will go.

In the morning, you find the pit in your stomach hasn’t dissipated in the least, flashes of memories from last night torturing you as you try to function the next morning. You could barely sleep last night, the few drinks you had not even able to lull you into any kind of rest. You pace your room, thinking hard with a hot mug of coffee clutched between your hands.

You know now that you have to see him again, talk to him again, even if just to confirm whether or not it’s what he wants to do. Then you could have something definitive - closure, or a new, budding relationship with the man who absolutely fucking ruined you.

You stop dead in your tracks as an idea hits you, one that could potentially lead you back to Joel. Your heart pounds anxiously as you pray that the idea works, that there’s something there, not just delusional, hopeless hoping. You rush over to your phone and quickly dial Georgia’s number.

“Georgia!” you call out a bit too loudly, barely able to hear yourself over the rushing in your ears. “Hey,” you say more timidly.

She groans sleepily on the other end of the line, and it’s not until then that realize you’re up way too early for how late all of you stayed out last night.

“Shit, s-sorry, I know it’s early, but…”

“What, babe? What could possibly be this important?” she groans into the phone teasingly, and you feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment and shame that you woke her for something as silly as this, but you’re a woman possessed, on a mission to find Joel.

“I know, I know. I just couldn’t sleep. I feel like… he’s the one, or something. The guy from the bar. The connection was so crazy, and the sex, and I’m rambling now, god, sorry.” You take a breath, steadying your nerves. “My point is, you were sober last night. Joel said he was there with his work crew, so did you see anything? Any shirts or trucks or anything with a logo or a name for a construction type crew? Please,” you say, murmuring the last, begging word more to yourself or whatever higher power is in control of your current predicament.

You can hear the rustling of Georgia’s sheets on the other end and another sleepy sigh. “Let me think on it, okay? When I can wake up some more. I promise I’ll text you about it later.”

You two end the call and you start pacing again, your heart thundering in your chest, knowing every minute is going to be agony waiting to see what Georgia ends up texting you. The day drags on, hour by hour a wasted mess of a day, with your nerves too frayed to concentrate on much of anything - homework, studying, TV - none of it helps to distract you enough.

When your phone pings that afternoon you pounce on it, flopping down onto your bed with shaky hands, opening the notification from Georgia.

Miller Contracting.

Two words and you’re off to google after shooting her a thank you text with as many exclamation marks as you could slam out in the few seconds you wanted to spare before moving on in your search.

You find his business immediately, their shoddy little website that’s clearly was not made by any professional. It kind of makes you chuckle to think of Joel trying to make a website. The page features an uncomfortable looking photo of Joel and another man, who you can only assume is the brother he said he owns the business with. You immediately smile looking into his eyes, his hair looking a little more cropped and coiffed in this photo than it had last night. Underneath it, their phone number is listed, and your eyes widen, mouth going desert dry as you punch it into your phone.

You hesitate, your finger hovering over the send button, needing to be sure of what you’re even going to say. What if he doesn’t answer, or it’s his brother, or they even have a secretary or something? Your mind spins but you force yourself to dial the call, anyways, driven forward by an unseen force that you’re quietly grateful for as the line trills in your ear.

Ring. Steady breath. Ring. Another. Ring.

taglist: @aphterthoughtt@bbyanarchist@amy172@hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito@msmorningstaarr@kamcrazy123@madhere@huffle-punk@jupiter-soups

#your honor i love them!!!!!!!!#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #x reader

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beauty-and-passion · 3 months

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Lore Olympus: a golden mine of bad writing

As I said, one post wasn’t enough.

There is still a lot to say about this webcomic and in this post I would like to talk about how Zeus, Apollo and Kronos have been treated. Here I will focus on the first two acts only, because the third act is not over, as well as the story. And yes, that means I will write another post when this whole thing is over.

I wanted to focus on these three gods in particular because are treated in a way that baffles me and makes me question what did they ever do to Mrs. Smythe. Tell me, Rachel: was it something personal? Did they do something to your family? What happened?

But maybe you don’t understand my point, especially if you haven’t read the Greek myths at all and you think that these three are just “Unfaithful Guy”, “Rapist” and “Evil Villain Har Har Who Also Wants To Rape”. Seriously, what’s with this weird obsession with raping everyone and with sex? Did Mrs. Smythe ever see anything else in myths, besides sex?

So please, allow me to explain why their characterizations are wrong and boring - and no, not just from a mythological point of view.

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Zeus: the walking clichè

Making Zeus an asshole is understandable, even if utterly boring and clichè. Oh wow, he's an unfaithful husband and he's vain. Very original. Groundbreaking, I'd say. I’ve never read about him being unfaithful to his wife, not even once in all the 200 million retellings made during the history of mankind.

It's a shame because Zeus is much more than that. He's a mighty ruler with a strong sense of justice: in several myths, he punished the assholes for their wrongdoings. He's very clever and strong. He's also associated with xenia, the custom of offering protection to strangers, which means Zeus is also a protector of foreigners.

I mean, this information alone offers so many new perspectives about him! Just imagine if, instead of hanging around and doing nothing useful aside from being everyone’s favorite punching bag, Zeus fought against every corrupt system of the mortal realm, in order to protect the foreigners and the innocents. It would’ve been so cool to see a different side of him, instead of the same thing over and over again!

But nope, Zeus = unfaithful husband only. Let’s ignore all the other aspects of him, to focus on the one everyone focuses on. Let’s make him the umpteenth version of the same guy, instead of offering a new vision. This will surely make the story worth everyone’s time!

Rachel, this could’ve worked if I was 12 and had never read a retelling in my entire life. But since I’m more than twice that age, seeing Zeus as an unfaithful husband again doesn’t get my interest. And I’m sure this doesn’t only apply to me, but to everyone who already saw at least two retellings of him. Isn’t this story supposed to be new and original? Then why are we still picking from the same old clichè visions of these gods? Where is the writer’s personality and ability?

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Apollo: king of wasted potentials

I am absolutely, completely, 100% baffled at how Apollo has been treated in this story.

It's insulting to see the most beloved Greek god treated as a bidimensional piece of shit. Not only because he doesn't make any sense in the story (why is he here in the first place? Did Persephone and Apollo even interact in any myth?), but also because there are so many different possibilities for him, that seeing him being this is the biggest waste of potential I’ve ever seen.

A brief recap of who Apollo really is: Apollo is the embodiment of the sun. He is the god of arts and crafts. He's the most beautiful god, he embodies the concept of perfect Greek beauty. And he is associated with a lot of cool stuff, like medicine, truth and oracles. Also, like most of the other Greek gods, Apollo had many male and female lovers.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that, with all of this, your first idea about him is "yeah, let's make him a stupid rapist, so stupid to not realize that hey, maybe forcing a girl to sleep with you will not make her fall in love with you". Oh and let's not forget he randomly decided he wanted Zeus' throne just after the fertility plot point had been introduced Because Yes. And he’s running for president of Whatever-Land Because Yes. Also, he’s currently involved again in another evil plot Because… yeah, you got it.

It’s just so frustrating to see him being the biggest loser of all time, considering how much cooler he could’ve been. Just think about it: we could've had a bisexual musician, who does concerts with his band (the Muses) and has a shit ton of lovers. We could’ve had a heartbroken doctor, who does his best to save everyone because he has not been able to save his own son from death (Asclepius). We could've had a mysterious advisor who can see the future because of his foresight powers.

What did we get instead? A fucking rapist.

Apollo is nothing but wasted potential. He’s an insult to himself, the story, common sense, and the Greek culture. Of all the incredible things he could've been, he became the most insulting of them all. I really cannot bear to see this fucking idiot and his punching-bag face, pretending to be Apollo. He’s not Apollo.

But if there is a guy I can see less than him, then let me introduce you to…

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Kronos: Supreme Master of Wasted Potential

First of all: why is Kronos here? Why does this love story need Persephone to defeat a big bad guy? Just to show how cool and badass she is? Considering that their fight was a joke, it didn't work very well.

But okay, let's say we need a villain Because Yes. Kronos is still a huge waste of potential, probably the biggest waste of potential of the whole series until now. He could’ve been an interesting, multifaceted character, but he became a cartoonish supervillain har-har I want power.

Sigh.

But let’s take a step back and talk about the real, mythological Kronos. His story starts with his parents, Uranus and Gaia. The two had a lot of sons, including Titans (like Kronos) and Hecatonchires (monsters with fifty heads and one hundred arms). Disgusted by their monstrous nature or maybe just out of fear of being overthrown, Uranus chained his sons away into Gaia's womb (aka the Tartarus) so that they could never come out again.

Gaia suffered from this decision, so she devised a plan: she made a stone sickle, gathered her sons and tried to persuade them to castrate Uranus.

All of her sons were afraid of Uranus, Kronos was the only one brave enough to do it. And he was successful: he overthrew his father and became the new ruler of the universe, along with his wife/sister Rhea.

However, after becoming king, he didn't free all of his brothers as his mother wanted, but locked Hecatonchires and Cyclopes away once again. And so, Gaia told him that, one day, he would meet his father’s same fate and be overthrown by one of his own children.

Scared by these words, Kronos devised a plan: every time he had a new child, he took the baby from Rhea and swallowed them. Rhea was desperate and, in order to save her last son Zeus, she sought Gaia's help.

So Rhea gave birth to Zeus in a secret place, then handed Kronos a stone wrapped in clothes: he swallowed it, thinking that it was his son. This way, Zeus managed to escape the same fate as his siblings and was raised in secret, away from his father, until he was old enough to come back and fulfill his destiny.

And now, you may think Zeus overthrew his father with a sword and killed him and nah nah nah, myths are not that stupid and predictable. Zeus didn’t use violence to overthrow his father, but intelligence. He disguised himself to reach Kronos' court and, at the right time, he gave him a drink. That drink was an emetic (given by Gaia), that forced Kronos to throw up everything he swallowed, in reverse order: first the stone he thought was his last son, then Zeus' brothers and sisters.

After freeing his siblings, Zeus did what his father would've never done: he released the Hecatoncheires and the Cyclops to help him in the following battle against Kronos and the other Titans, a battle known as Titanomachy.

The war ended with the victory of the Olympians (i.e. Zeus and his siblings). Many Titans were confined in Tartarus, under the Hecatonchires' control, others were not imprisoned and kept appearing in other myths.

And Kronos? His fate differs depending on the myths. In some versions, he was imprisoned in Tartarus. But according to other, more interesting versions, Zeus forgave him after years, freed him and Kronos became king of the Elysian Fields: the famous earthly paradise reserved for the greatest Greek heroes.

Now. Just look at all of this beautiful, beautiful potential.

We have Gaia, a powerful goddess who overthrew two rulers of the universe, without moving a finger. A goddess strong and clever, but also a mother who wanted all of her children to be free - even the most hideous ones. She could’ve been a tragic figure, a master manipulator, or an evil schemer. Or all these things!

We have the Hecatonchires: fighters so powerful, to turn the tide of any battle. They could’ve been scary and intimidating, but also tragic monsters who just wanted to be accepted. They could’ve taught a beautiful lesson about the importance of accepting the ugly and giving everyone a chance to prove themselves.

Then we have Kronos. And Kronos had everything to be the greatest character.

Think about this concept: Kronos has always been afraid of Uranus, just like his brothers. He was just better at hiding his feelings. And that visceral fear is still inside him, it still haunts him after centuries, just like the memory of how he overthrew his father. And that fear takes the shape of paranoid thoughts about his father coming back to take the throne.

Kronos could’ve seen his father haunting him, but he could’ve also dissociated and seen himself as his father. In his altered state of mind, he could’ve been both the king and the one who overthrows him.

That could’ve made him a truly dangerous, unhinged character. A god who can’t see what’s real anymore, obsessed with the ghosts of his past. A god with nothing to lose and everything to gain. After all, if he kills his children again, the throne would be his once more. And, since he sees himself as himself and as his father at the same time, he would think that he is the "true king" coming back to take his throne.

That could’ve been awesome. Kronos could've been complex, desperate and multifaceted, a villain to pity and to be afraid of. A truly new, interesting version to know and love.

And do you have any idea how incredible Zeus could’ve been in this version? We could see him facing Kronos again, still as strong and determined as when he was young. And while everyone would expect him to kill Kronos, he would use his intelligence once again. He would prove to Kronos (and to everyone else) how intelligence is always superior to violence and how he's a good leader, despite his thousands of flaws.

Also, we could've seen Zeus talking to the defeated Kronos and making him the ruler of the Elysian Fields. We could've had a meaningful ending, in which Zeus understands Kronos' fears and shares his own.

I would’ve adored this, because according to the myth, Zeus was also supposed to be overthrown by a son! Hence why he swallowed Metis (his first wife) while she was pregnant.

The myth never truly clarifies who this supposed "son" is, but according to the different versions, Metis was pregnant not with a son, but with a daughter. A daughter who, one day, would be born, full grown, from Zeus' head. A daughter who would become Zeus' favorite child: Athena.

Honestly? I ADORE the idea that there was never a son to overthrow Zeus, but a daughter. And she would not overthrow his father by violence like her grandfather or by intelligence like her father, but by love. Athena doesn't need to take the throne from her father physically, she doesn't even need to sit on that throne: not when her father loves her more than anything else.

And I love the idea that Zeus is aware of that. He knows his daughter is his weakness. He knows that, if she asks, he will willingly give her that throne, because he loves her too much. And I would've loved to see him sharing these thoughts with the defeated Kronos. It could've been a beautiful moment, to see Zeus talking with the fatherly figure he always missed from his life. It could've led to a beautiful, meaningful ending for a dramatic story.

But can you see the problem here? This concept works for a story about Zeus, not about Hades and Persephone! These two have nothing to do with Kronos! Heck, even Rachel Smythe knows it, considering she had to pull a stupid plot point out of thin air, to explain why Kronos would give a damn about Persephone!

In case you were wondering: yes, the fertility-magical-power-battery-thing is bullshit. Gods don’t need a magical battery to be powerful. And no, fertility goddesses are not rare either: Aphrodite, Demeter, Hera, even Artemis are just a few of the fertility goddesses in Greek mythology. Kronos could’ve picked his favorite from a large pool, instead of becoming an absolute creep with Persephone in the stupidest fight of all time.

And speaking of that, two words on the supposed “fight”. First of all, apologies to all fights for being associated with this thing, because this was anything but a fight: it was a cartoonish conversation accompanied by the umpteenth sexualization of Persephone, who first appeared fully naked, then with a dress so stupid to defy the laws of physics and perspective.

And if you don’t believe me, please see it by yourself: this is how the dress was supposed to be, according to episode 75

This is how it ended up. Apparently, the Fates didn’t predict how huge Persephone’s boobs would be and the neckline didn’t grow accordingly: I feared to see one of them slipping out from it anytime during the “fight”

Also, please appreciate how Persephone is turned to the side, but the dress’ stupidly huge neckline is shown from the front, otherwise we would’ve seen her full naked boobs.

And that stupid neckline kept bothering me throughout the whole “fight”, because it kept changing size. Check the episodes and see it by yourself: sometimes it’s smaller, other times it’s wider and it keeps moving in impossible ways. It drove me insane.

But since we’re talking about drawings, please allow me a very brief parenthesis about them too.

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The drawings are a joke

I am not an artist. I can barely draw a straight line by hand. But I studied art history, perspective, proportions and colors, so I’m not completely clueless.

But you don’t need to be clueless, to notice how bad the drawings became. If you have two eyes and saw another human being in your life before, then you can notice by yourself how bad they are.

It’s not a secret that Lore Olympus’ art style changed over time. In the beginning, this comic was characterized by a lot of straight lines and geometric shapes, alternating and mixing with gentle curves. There were blur effects, colored outlines, a lot of details that gave an overall dreamy, ethereal vibe to every chapter (like the soft glow that accompanied the gods).

But as the story progressed, these elements disappeared. The geometric shapes gave way to an overall “softness” and roundness. The dreamy vibes and blur effects were replaced by sharper, clearer drawings. A distinct black outline now marks every character.

And speaking of characters, they were the ones who changed more. Lore Olympus always had funny, silly faces but the characters were also able to be serious and look natural. Now all we have are grotesque faces: the characters are a collection of caricatures and no one has a normal expression anymore. Check by yourself, by confronting a random episode of the third act with the first one: they’re two different worlds.

The disproportions were common too, since episode one. But at least they were somehow plausible, while now they’re completely absurd. It’s as if Mrs Smythe completely forgot what a human being looks like.

And this is pretty evident in how all characters became a rough draft of the two protagonists: all women got Persephone’s face, all men become buff and huge, with wide-ass shoulders and teeny tiny heads. This is particularly obvious at the end of season 2 / start of season 3, when we see some of the funniest images ever, like Hades with a tiny head and shoulders as wide as the entire USA

Or this hilariously bad image of Zeus with clown shoes and a head as big as his deformed hand.

No excuse can justify these drawings: no one is running after Mrs Smythe, nor forcing her to draw, and people are paying her real money to work on this webcomic. The least she can do is draw something that doesn’t look like a bad distortion of a human being.

Unless this isn’t her drawing, but her staff’s work. In that case, they are still paid to do their job, right? Or do they think this story is a joke and decide to show how much of a joke it is, by turning everyone into a grotesque caricature?

_______________________________

In conclusion

Lore Olympus is hilarious because of how bad the writing is. It’s a manual example of how not to write a climax for your story. It’s a perfect demonstration of how you can still fail, even with great characters with endless possibilities. It’s a list of all the mistakes you can make as an artist.

If you’re a writer or an artist in general, please check Lore Olympus and study it. Here you will find everything you should never do and all the mistakes you should never make.

As a writer myself, I appreciate Lore Olympus, because I need works that teach me what I shouldn’t do. Good teachers are useful, but bad ones are even more useful, because it’s thanks to them that I can learn and grow and make better stories. Lore Olympus might be a failure from an artistic and writing point of view, but it might also serve as a foundation, from which other people can develop better ideas.

Actually, it already did it! Do you want to read a better story, rose from the disappointing ashes of Lore Olympus? Then check Lore Rekindled and @genericpuff: you will find their work here on Tumblr. They planned everything ahead and it’s pretty clear by reading it. The characters make more sense, the events have a more logical explanation. And the art style is much, much better than the last Lore Olympus.

We will meet again for the third and (for now) final post about this series, a much-needed post about the protagonists of this story: Hades, Persephone and Demeter.

<- Previous post - Next post ->

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

TAGLIST:

@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24 @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue @cynicalandsarcastic @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire

@riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan @arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads

@dracayd-universe @starlightnyx @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing

@thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @coldbookworm @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist

#lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo criticism #lo critical #anti lo #greek gods #greek myth #zeus #apollo #kronos #lo zeus #lo apollo #lo kronos

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604to647 · 5 months

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Safest with You - Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner)

3.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You listen to a sign from the universe and it leads you to Din.

Warnings: Some pining and then more fluff 💕 although Reader is a bit of menace as she straight up ogles Din like a piece of meat 😂, brief mention of female masturbation, reader is described as shorter than Din, first use of pet name “Pretty Bird”.

A/N: The series is slow but sometimes falling in love be like that. I pinned a series masterlist, so you can always jump to the smutty one shots that happen later in the timeline when these two are in an established relationship if you need a fix. The fact that Din boxes is 100% attributed to @djarinsbeskar's Boxer!Din AU which was the very first Din fic AU I ever read on Tumblr and remains one of my favourites and one I revisit often; making Din a former boxer/owner of a boxing gym is my small but humble homage to Rachel's genius. Also from that same AU is this piece of art from one of my favourite artists, @kate-komics that I think about often also. Thank you both for the inspiration!

“He bought you books?!?”

“Well, technically, he bought us all books.”

The whole table laughs; your friends were delighted when you handed out the books, but they’re entralled at the background story that comes with.

“And he didn’t leave you his number or anything?”

“No! Told the cashier he didn’t want to want me to feel ‘obligated’.”

“It’s okay, babe. We’ll find him,” nods Katie, whipping out her phone.

Bea starts typing on her phone as well, “Right. He said his name is Din? How do you spell that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it short for something?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know. 40s? He’s greying,” you picture Din’s soft curls and bury your face in your hands, “it looks so fucking good on him.”

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know. Not downtown.”

“Well, what does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Babe. What do you know?”

“I know his coffee order is Ice Quad Expresso in a Venti cup with extra ice and six shots.”

“Ok, so we know he probably has a heart condition.”

Everyone bursts out laughing. Your friends have good reason to be so enthusiastic – it’s been ages since someone has caught your eye. You don’t date a lot, and that’s always been your preference. You have a picky temperament to begin with, but the truth is, you’re happy and at peace with the way your life is now after years of hard work. There simply hasn’t been room or a need for a partner, and your friends don’t push you to date (except Jen who always reminds you that there’s a guy at her firm she wants to set you up with, but even that’s more in good fun than anything). But right now, you look flushed and besotted over this stranger; positively smitten. They love it for you.

After a few minutes, no one has found anything on social media, any dating apps or Google – admittedly, there wasn’t much (anything?) to go on, but you’ve seen these girls work internet detective miracles before.

Oh well.

You sigh, “I need to get drunk and forget him. Or painfully obsess over every detail I can remember.”

And you all cheers to that.

---

Huh.

A week later on the Saturday, you’re out running errands, and you find yourself standing in front of your drycleaner which has unexpectedly closed. A handwritten sign in the window reads: “Emergency Closure. Reopening to be announced.”

The drycleaner’s is supposed to be your first stop of the day and you don’t really feel like carting your dirty clothes with you to run the rest of your errands. Moreover, you’ll need a few of the items in the coming weeks. You take out your phone to look up other drycleaners in the area when something in your mind clicks: Peli’s Drycleaning on 14th. You search it and see it actually exists, and has a pretty good rating to boot. But, it’s sort of out of your way, not really in the same area you’re in at all.

You shouldn’t go.

Should you go?

And what if you do? Do you… ask about Din? That’s weird.

But you’ve been thinking about him non-stop all week: daydreaming about his soft smile during your work commute, remembering the flex of his strong hand covering yours as you answer emails, getting lost in thoughts of his big brown eyes while out walking the dog. You flush at the memory of touching yourself in bed while recalling his deep and rich voice. Every attempt to forget your handsome Quad Ice over the past week has utterly failed.

Eff it. What are the chances that you unexpectedly need a new drycleaner, and it happens to be the only thing tangentially related to Din that you know? Maybe the universe is trying to help you out.

Before you can characteristically overthink it, you flag down a cab and give the driver the address you looked up; your heart pounds the entire ride over.

When you step into drycleaner’s, a little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival, and a short woman with a huge amount of curly dark hair appears from the back. You think she might be Peli, but you can’t be sure; she gives you a huge smile and gestures to take in your clothes. Finding her to be super friendly and chatty, the two of you make easy small talk as she neatly lists out your items by hand on her notepad. When she gets to the coffee stained skirt, she lets out a low whistle, “Oof. Been there, done that!” she quips. You decide this is probably the best opening you’ll get, “Actually, that coffee stain is probably why I’m here. Someone saw it and recommended your place.” Peli raises her eyebrow as you press on, “His name is Din, he said he’s a friend of the owner?”

This gets her attention; the woman stops what she’s doing and studies you with great interest. Her face breaks out into an impossibly wide smile and she exclaims loudly, “Din sent you, eh? And he said we were friends?” she lets out a deep belly laugh, “Babysat him when he was a kid, but yep we’re friends. Ha! Hi, I’m Peli!” She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “He said to mention his name and you would try harder not to lose my clothes,” you joke.

“That scamp!” chortles Peli, “Don’t worry! We’ll take good care of you! You know… because of Din.” She rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Of course. Because of Din,” you grin back, “So…does he send a lot of… people who need drycleaning, your way?”

“Nope! You’re the first! And honestly, now that I think about it, why hasn’t he been sending me more business?”

You figure it’s now or never, “Do you know where I could find him?”

If possible, Peli brightens even more at your question, “Oh yeah, for sure! At this time of day, he’ll be at his gym. It’s about 2 blocks that way,” she points in the direction for you, “can’t miss it! Big sign that says ‘Mando’s Gym’.”

Peli finishes taking down your information for the clothes and lets you know when everything can be ready. You give her an enthusiastic thanks; when opening the door to leave, you have a moment of hesitation, but looking back, you find Peli already pointing in the direction of the gym. You give her a smiling nod and head that way.

---

Peli was right. You can’t miss the sign; it sits atop of a standalone three story building that’s set further back on its lot. The front area of the lot looks like it might have once been a driveway of sorts, but is now used as a parking lot; a handful of parked cars lets you know the gym is fairly busy today. The front of the building has giant windows that look like garage doors and makes you think that the building might have once been a mechanic repair shop; from the little of what you can see inside, you think the gym occupies the first floor of the building and possibly the second. The big set of garage door windows are separated in the middle by an entry way that you walk through, slightly nervous. Once inside, you see a reception but currently no one behind the small desk; instead, you peek around the partition wall behind the desk and see that the space opens up to a clean, spacious room that has about 8-10 people working out on various machines and punching bags lining the walls, all leading to a larger group of people clustering near the boxing ring centered at the back of the room.

You’re making your way towards the back, scanning over the group looking for Din when you spot him, right in the middle of the ring. He’s got his gloved hands up, blocking part of his head, but you can still tell it’s him; when you hear him shouting encouraging words to his sparring partner, his familiar voice sends a shiver up your spine. He’s wearing a sweat drenched grey t-shirt and his hair is messy and wet from his work out, but he looks even better than you remember.

Actually, he looks fucking delicious. From this angle you can see the cut of his jawline and how it tightens as his grunts and pants. His arms are flexed from his forearms up to his biceps, and are so muscular they’re straining hard against his shirt sleeves. You must be straight up ogling him because you don’t even realize when Din notices you; you’re too busy looking at his legs and admiring how his thighs fill out his navy blue shorts so snugly. You only look up when those same legs start walking in your direction and come to a stop at the edge of the ring. Din is leaning towards you against the rope with a heart-stopping smile, “It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” you grin, repeating back his words to you from the bookstore.

Din thinks he must be dreaming, or maybe he’s been knocked in the head one too many times today. He had just paused the fight to show Jimmy the new combination again, when he looked over to see the prettiest sight. You, standing in his gym, soft and dainty, with a wide eye expression on your face. You’re looking in his direction, but when you don’t make eye contact with him immediately, Din allows himself the smug thought that you might be liking what you see and puffs his chest out a little before making his way over to you.

Now you’re looking at him with that same pretty smile that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last week, and he can’t wait to talk to you again, “Are you okay to wait for 5 minutes? We’re just finishing up this training session.”

You nod agreeably, “Sure, I can wait.” There’s a bench running along the right side of the ring where you take a seat to better enjoy the show. You’ve never seen boxing up close before, so you don’t know what to expect, but you find yourself mesmerized by everything Din is doing in the ring. All his movements are intentional and graceful; he’s in total control of every motion he makes: ducking, blocking, punching. His muscles are all flexed and his shirt stretches tight, barely containing them as if Din himself is an extension of the explosive power harnessed in his fists. The legs that you were drooling over earlier are quick and agile; it’s true you don’t know his age but his sparring partner looks to be in his mid-20s and Din is having no problem out maneuvering him.

As he circles the other fighter, you think you spy some ink on a flash of some exposed skin and the idea of exploring what’s underneath Din’s shirt has you swallowing hard. In short, you can’t take your eyes off of him.

The 5 minutes is action packed and over before you know it. In one continuous smooth motion, Din ducks under the rope, jumps down and grabs a fresh towel from a stack on the other end of the bench you’re sitting on before sliding over to sit next to you. He looks at you almost bashfully as he towels off his hair and wipes the sweat from his brow and neck. You think you could get used to seeing him like this: cheeks pink from exercise, bright eyes glued to yours and a grin so wide it reveals a deep dimple in his right cheek that you’re discovering for the first time. He’s taking your breath away and you haven’t even been back in his presence for more than 10 minutes.

“What brings you to this part of town today, pretty bird?”

If anyone else had bestowed a pet name on you so soon after having met, you would have immediately gotten the ick, but the endearment rolling off Din’s tongue sounds so natural and sweet, it has you melting, “Some handsome guy bought me a thick stack of books and then made it nearly impossible for me to thank him. Tracked him down to this gym.”

“Handsome guy, eh?”

“Yep. Real handsome. And sweet. You know anyone around here like that?” you tease.

Handsome. You think he’s handsome. Din thinks his heart is in danger of no longer fitting in his chest. He holds his hand up to his brow, as if to shield his eyes from the light, and mines looking around gym in an exaggerated manner, “Nope. Just a bunch of smelly, sweaty ruffians. Owner’s a handsome guy though, maybe you’re looking for him,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“You own this gym?”

“Sure do. Used to be my dad’s.”

“Well, he would be proud of you and what you’ve done here, Din. It looks great.” You mean it, and you look around the gym with a renewed sense of awe now that you know Din is the one responsible for its operations.

Din’s not sure how you knew the exact thing to say to make his heart swell, but he knows without a doubt that you’re being genuine and he is reminded again of your kind nature.

You look back to see Din looking at you with a soft expression and before you let yourself get lost in his eyes, you force yourself to pull it together, “Oh Din! I can’t believe I didn’t say this right away: Thank you!! Thank you for the books. It was so incredibly unexpected and sweet! My friends also say thank you – a few of the books you bought were for them.”

“You’re very welcome. Have you enjoyed the books?”

You’re warmed by how thoughtful Din is, and you let him know the books are turning out to be great and you and your friends can’t believe how long you’ll have to wait for the next instalment to come out.

“Do you have plans to read tonight, or would you happen to be free?”

Even though you had been hoping that Din would ask you out, your heart leaps into your throat now that it’s happening. “I think I should be! If I finish up this list of errands I’m supposed to get to today, that is. Giving Peli my drycleaning was only the first item,” you lament.

“Peli! Is that how you found me? Clever girl.”

You beam at Din’s praise. You realize you haven’t explained how you knew where he was, “As luck would have it, my regular drycleaner was unexpectedly closed. Nearly derailed my whole errand day until I remembered you mentioning you had a friend who ran a drycleaning business. Something else I need to thank you for.”

“I’m glad I could help. Well, if you have a bunch of errands you have to finish before you can go out with me tonight, I’m going to scoot you out of here right now so you don’t cancel. Scoot!” Din adds a silly shooing motion with his hands as he says this, so you know he’s not seriously trying to get rid of you. You giggle, but nod, eager to get on with your tasks so that your date with Din might come sooner.

Din asks you if you need a ride, but you tell him you’ll be fine and jokingly scoff, “Hey! I don’t want you putting off your work and then backing out either, mister.”

“Not a chance,” grins Din.

As you walk together towards the front of the gym, Din lets you know how much he’s been thinking about you, “I’m really glad you came to here today. I was about to camp out everyday at the coffeeshop in the morning and then that bookstore in the afternoon until I found you again.”

“Who would have looked after the gym if you did that?”

Din looks around at the gym; some of the boxers and staff that had been watching the two of you look away quickly and pretend to busy themselves to avoid being caught staring. “Shoot. This place probably would have burned down. Looks like you just saved the gym.”

You can’t help but giggle again and Din feels a growing sense of pride in being able to make you laugh. “How about tonight I take you out to dinner as a thank you?”

Giving him an incredulous look, you answer, “I should be taking you out to dinner to thank you.”

“I don’t think so, pretty bird.”

The pet name shoots straight to your core again.

Din stretches himself up to his full height and looks down at you with mock stern expression, cocking his eyebrow.

You can’t say you’re at all intimidated even though he towers over you; you’ve long since felt that Din’s company spelled safety. But to play along, you counter by looking up at him with your biggest pleading eyes. Din is instantly disarmed and knows in this moment that he will never be able to refuse you anything.

He suggests a compromise, “How about we go for dinner and fight about the check there?”

“Ok. But just so you know, I’m not used to losing,” you challenge playfully.

“Me neither.” Din tilts his head slightly to draw your attention to the wall you’re standing next to. It’s the other side of the divider wall you rounded when you came in, and you see that it’s covered with awards, certificates, and articles lauding Din’s boxing accomplishments.

Amazed, you skim over the honours and achievements, “This is you? Wow – you’re incredible Din! …9 times weight division champion? Oh man, now I don’t know if I can take you.”

“I bet you could,” from the look on Din’s face, you’re sure that the double meaning is meant as a tease, but you can’t help squirming a little.

Blushing, you relent, “Ok, you can pay for dinner. But I still have to thank you for the books.”

Din is finding your persistence on this point to be adorable, “Your ‘thanks’ is enough. No need to feel like you owe me; it was a gift.”

“I know. I just have an outrageous sense of reciprocity. I really do want to find a way to thank you somehow.” You reach up and put your hand on Din’s shoulder to hold yourself steady as you lift up onto your toes and kiss him on the cheek. Despite having just gone who knows how many rounds in the ring, he smells incredible and you can’t help but linger your lips on his cheek. You exhale softly and hold Din’s gaze as you slowly lower down to your normal height.

Din looks as affected as you feel, “Remind me to buy you some more books.”

Both of you laugh, now giddy about the prospect of seeing each other again in a few hours. You exchange numbers and Din promises to text you later with the address of the restaurant he’ll meet you at tonight.

Heading down the street, heart aflutter and fingers trembling with excitement, you take out your phone and text the group chat: I found him.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern au #no y/n

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frogyjones-writes · 8 months

Note

First off, came from your art blog (specifically all your LiS art) and I love it :))) Second, could you do a shy reader in a poly relationship with Chloe and Rachel? Headcannons or a 'First Meeting' story. Your choice!

A/N: Thank you sm for the compliment and being my first ever ask on this account, what a great prompt to start with!

- Hope you like these headcanons that I came up with 🧡🤍

Shy Reader Dating Chloe and Rachel -

Chloe and Rachel are some of the boldest, most outgoing people you've ever met. While they can be reluctant in their own ways just like you, you've always had more difficulty with social interaction and making big steps.

But that's no problem when you've got the two of them by your side. It's your turn to order and you're worried you'll mess up? They have no trouble ordering for you, they've practically memorized your favourites by now anyway!

When you started crushing on the two of them, you were too nervous to make the first move. While Chloe was a bit oblivious to your feelings, dealing with her own attraction to you, Rachel picked them up immediately. And she had no trouble at all convincing you join her and Chloe's relationship.

And so far it's been great!

They're always going out somewhere new in town, dragging you along with them to the junk yard, and stargazing in the trunck of Chloe's pick up, you undoubtedly curled up between them.

Being with them definitely pushes you out of your comfort zone at times, but even with their unreserved behavior, they never forget about you.

They'll never say no to stepping away and taking a break with you. Don't feel like going out at all that day? No worries, Rachel will put in a movie or Chloe will ask you to go against her in a round of combat video games.

Not to mention they're a bit obsessed with coddling you. You being shy is a bit cute, and they'll never not talk about it. Attention from other people isn't always the best, but from them it's just about all you could ask for.

The best part is they'll never put you down for your shy nature. They get it, they've had their moments, and you help them too in your own ways. It's good for them every now and then to not be out partying or getting into trouble and just take a day off to chill out with you.

#requests #answers #my headcanons #life is strange #rachel amber #lis #rachel amber x reader #chloe price #chloe price x reader

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incorrecttowerofgodquotes · 1 year

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How Season 3 Upped Tower of God’s Queer Undertones; or why Khun is definitely gay

KhunBam shipping is wide spread in the fandom. The amount of shipping ramped up due to the release of the anime, but it’s always been a long standing and popular ship, even compared to half-canon Bam pairings like Endorsi, Yuri, and Ehwa.

First off, is the direct connection of Bam and Khun’s relationship to Roen and Daniel’s, and Dowon and Cha’s, both canonically romantic ships. And looking at the three relationships, there’s a common theme of one side losing the other.

Daniel lost Roen due to White, and spent the next 600 hundred years searching for ways to bring her back. Cha lost Dowon when she was sealed away inside the wall, and Cha went on a rampage against Jahad’s forces before being sealed himself. Meanwhile, both Khun and Bam have experienced the same loss.

After believing Bam died on the Floor of Tests, Khun sought revenge for 7 whole years despite only knowing Bam for a few months. And when Khun enters a coma, Bam is so enraged that he immediately cuts off and threatens Rachel, who he had previously been decently cordial to. Bam also ends up changing his appearance in a way that is reminiscent of Khun’s.

During Season 3, a lot of focus is placed Khun’s relationship with Bam. Multiple characters call him out for being overprotective of him, and Khun’s very first words when waking up from his two-year coma were “Where am I? Where’s Bam?”

During the Wall of Peaceful of Coexistence, Khun and Bam end up exchanging some dialogue that could be taken as flirting when facing down a Ranker. (Which Rak directly calls out at flirting in the original Korean text)

Khun even winks to Bam in a playful manner, which wouldn’t mean much of anything if it was Endorsi or Yuri, but considering’s Khun’s personality, it’s pretty weird that he did so.

There’s also the very infamous hug scene between the two. Of course, since I’m not a straight man, I don’t have complete authority over whether this is a normal hug or not. (If anything I think men should be more intimate and open with each other than society says they should.) However the panel composition focuses on Khun tenderly patting his head while Bam somewhat snuggles into his chest. The scene feels very intimate, like the two are separated in their own world. It’s only after we get the scene break with White looking on (and licking his lips) that the viewer remembers that the two are in the middle of what was just a battlefield seconds ago.

However, this is where we’ll have to get to the darker parts of this relationship. Strictly speaking, Khun’s over dependence on Bam.

We got hints of this in Season 2, specifically in the conversation between Khun and Evan on the Hell Train. Khun states that Bam is his reason for continuing on. This connects to his talk with Rak in Season 1 where he stated that the reason why he’s going up the tower is in order to find his purpose, which he then receives from Bam’s reliance on him to help Rachel go up the tower.

Khun strikes me as a codependent person even though he tries to hide it. Bam is so important to him that he’ll intentionally put himself in harms way or follow Bam’s orders even if he doesn’t agree. While this was okay in the first two seasons, Khun’s obsession has started to taint the relationship. He directly helped White gain his power back without talking to Bam about it and lied about Arkraptor and Prince’s fates in order to keep Bam moving (but then again we don’t know what Wangnan said to him so he might have just gotten the wrong info.)

These actions seem to stem from Khun’s anxieties that Bam will eventually leave him one day. He even states he feels guilty leaving Bam alone for the two years he was in a coma despite the fact that the entire situation wasn’t his fault. While Khun shared some of these thoughts with Bam on the Hell Train, he hasn’t actually talked about it with Bam, leading to buildup of these feelings on inadequacy. It’s only a matter of time before he eventually fucks up majorly.

In a way, Khun and Bam’s relationship sorta mirrors Yasratcha and Wangwang’s. Both Wangwang and Bam have a special power and the ability to stand against the abusive powers that reign over them. Meanwhile Khun and Yasratcha just want to live a normal life with their loved one and will do anything to keep it that way.

Hopefully Khun will receive a wake up call before things get too bad, and he and Bam can have a proper conversation about each other’s wants and needs.

As of right now, Season 3 has ended with the two separated and dealing with different, but also similar, issues. Bam is being forced to marry a woman without either of their consent by Traumerei, who seeks to add him to his collection. Khun is being kept as a pet “cat” by Bellerir because of his looks, with specific mention of selling him out to rich men and women.

There’s a clear link between Bam and Khun’s situations, explicitly in a way that takes away their autonomy for a “romantic” purpose. I expect the two’s storylines to follow a similar path before eventually converging. And if SIU does want to make KhunBam canon, then the end of that arc would be the perfect place to do it (or even just have them realize their feelings I’m not asking for much.)

Also separate thing but Season 3’s overarching theme seems to be about abused groups fighting back against their oppressors, which is pretty gay.

Now for the non-KhunBam gay:

Yasratcha’s entire story is about the ultimate destruction of his relationship with Wangwang, leaving him bitter and spiteful due to his crush’s death but also attempting to protect his son’s. Yasratcha and Wangwang’s meeting as regulars is an alternate version of the “turn the corner and bump into your soulmate” that’s utilized (and parodied) in so many anime. Yasratcha enjoys his time with Wangwang so much that he makes his entire purpose to be with him. (And he says it in a very romantically charged way)

When Wangwang encounters Nennen, Yasratcha comments that Wangwang’s heart was stolen and that he was jealous of her ability to do so. He strikes up a somewhat antagonistic relationship with Nennen, continuously needling her and being weirdly interested in their sex life.

This eventually culminates in Yasratcha’s “betrayal” all so Wangwang can break free from his master and become reliant on Yasratcha again. When Wangwang is begging for Yasratcha to kill him, Yasratcha can’t bring himself to. Finally he enters a suicidal battle against the rest of the canine people hoping to eradicate them while also hoping to die himself, because he feels like he can’t live on without Wangwang.

White is another queer-coded character with his obsession of “corrupting” Bam and his daddy issues.

Finally there’s Traumerei. Even though we don’t know much, due to the large jacket, his comments on love, and “relationship” with Wangwang, we can assume he had a close relationship either V or Jahad. He may be an intentional foil to Yasratcha, losing his “friend” because of their interest in a woman.

Also even though it isn’t Season 3 content, Wangnan and Shibisu carry heavy bisexual energy with their casual flirting with Nia and Khun respectively.

TLDR: Tower of God is plagued with queer-coded twinks who have trouble forming healthy relationships and get too easily obsessed with talented men. They also all have abandonment issues

#I don’t know if KhunBam will be canon #but I do know Khun has a crush on Bam #and that’s all I really need #tower of god #tog

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foreversunshine-love · 4 months

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With Harry's update coming up in a few days I can't help but think about how miserable Harry still is and how much he STILL suffers from his family's hands. You can see in some of his daily studies how he yearns to be free, and some of these are cries for help which I think is heartbreaking because he doesn't really have anyone to talk to besides MC but EVEN THEN HE STILL DOESN'T COMPLETELY OPEN UP TO HER (hence their breakup).

Even as an adult he still has to follow his parents orders (attending family events as a representative, him & Rachel almost not being able to escape the family home, etc.) and I think the worse of it is his arranged marriage to Dr. Cheon who has been obsessed with him since she was 9 and probably told her parents to fix the marriage for them, of course her mother having connections to Yuhan corps (Harry's cousins family business) made this possible most likely 😒 But the sad part? I mean an arranged marriage is sad enough but it's that Harry would go with it had he never met MC (though he stated he would divorce her later on) meaning he still can't break away from his family's tight grip on him.

But here's the actual sad part: Harry's potential controlling & toxic marriage to Terry Cheon...

Were Harry to actually marry Terry, his life would be NO DIFFERENT than what it's like at the hands of his parents. Man literally gets absolutely no say in HIS FUTURE, kind of like he almost has no say right now, an absolute hell hole...

What's worse is if Harry actually has kids with that psychopath because they will just be reliving Harry's & Rachel's lives, and Harry will have to witness and relive a big traumatic part of his life.

But the one thing I can't help but think about is, whether Harry will break the chain for those kids?

He once told MC in a call he didn't plan on having kids but his daily study shows that if he did, he'll be somewhat supportive. I mean he wouldn't want them to go through what he & his sister did right? Even if he were to have kids with someone he doesn't love, I think he'll try to be a good father, something he never had, to those kids. One thing is for sure, those kids would have a hard time because of the "future" Terry has planned for them vs. Harry probably not wanting them to have a hard time.

It's depressing to think about what Harry's life could potentially lead to if he doesn't get away from his family and doesn't break his contract with Terry. 😔

I'm hoping we get to explore Harry preventing this, sending his family & Dr. Cheon to the curve, & becoming more comfortable with opening up to MC & possibly getting help for his depression. C'MON CHERITZ PLS GIVE MY MAN A BREAK ALREADY😭

#I'm in my Harry feels tonight #the ssum #the ssum harry #harry choi

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 1 year

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Say, even if you're only familiar with Gen 1, what Pokémon do you think the Animorphs would want to acquire if they could?

Marco: Would get a Magikarp, train it up well past level 20, and refuse to let it evolve. Would pull out this Magikarp every battle, and contentedly lose every battle, for the sheer joy of fucking with his opponents.

Cassie: Would become way too attached to her starter Bulbasaur, keeping her Venusaur on even well after its effectiveness had peaked. Would be offended at the mere suggestion of ever storing Zack (the Venusaur's name is Zack) in the PC, because they've been together so long.

Tobias: Would meticulously fill his entire Pokédex, indeed catching them all, including a month spent just acquiring an Abra. Would carefully evolve all of his Pokémon to their final forms, rotating evenly between them so none would feel left out. Would only ever win gym battles when required to do so in order to find more areas to get more Pokémon.

Rachel: Would build her Tauros-Jynx-Jolteon-Dodrio dream team, and would go around annihilating gym leaders. Has a slight problem with min-maxing, and gets defeated every time she forgets defensive attacks exist, but the battles are their own reward.

Ax: Would have no idea the game exists, but instead be an obsessive card collector. Somehow, from the four castoff cards Tobias gave him (a Ninetails and three Cubones), Ax has traded his way into a small fortune of Charizards, Alakazams, and Gyradoses. And so many Chanseys. Over 30 holographic Chanseys, and counting. He especially likes the sparkly cards, which is why all of his cards have sparkly backgrounds. Ax insists these were all legal trades, agreed to by all parties. Marco's pretty sure he should give up yeerk-fighting and go trade on Wall Street.

Jake: Would make a big show of not caring about pocket monster games — hello, there's a war on! Would have exactly one pack of 10 cards he keeps in the back of his desk. There's nothing special in there, unless you count Togepi. It's just that it was a gift from Tom.

#animorphs #pokémon #please note: i don't know ANYTHING about pokémon #these are all just my experiences when the game had its first boom at the turn of the millennium #each of these is based on a memory of a friend

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wheelsupin-azarathmetrionzinthos · 2 days

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JKEU MAJOR ARCANA ASSIGNMENTS

Josh

Major Arcana: Fool

Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit

Josh was the simplest tarot pick for me, because from his canon arc in Joust Because and then further in the JKEU, he’s always been about new beginnings and new possibilities. In Joust Because Josh is shown as someone who’s holding back his “secret” self, the side of him that for example “steals falcons”. The reversed Fool card is about holding back, and that’s a representation of the Josh we see before Joust Because but as we expand into the JKEU, we see it again, when Josh transitioned into the board game cafe/manager, he’s entering a new realm of possibilities and allowing his natural utter adaptableness to really shine. Josh is the Fool because he’s able to be whatever he needs to be for his friends. Josh is a jack of all trades, and also able to see the new chances in life.

Josh’s negative traits all come with the Reversed Fool, he holds back his negative feelings, he feels inadequate, and then he doesn’t talk about. Looking at your heart is my heart, and i’m learning to share Josh admits that he doesn’t talk about his feelings if he thinks they’ll upset others. They will always be held back.

Josh is endlessly creative and extremely chaotic, he sees the best in everyone, and everything which is why he’s the perfect Fool card.

(I also think he’s extremely Jacob Drawfee-coded)

Rachel

Major Arcana: Death

Endings, change, transformation, transition

Oh Rachel, oh death, oh my precious girl. Rachel (Pane Of) Glass, I think about you all the time. It feels very fitting that you are represented by my favourite tarot card. Rachel in Elevator Pitch is characterized by someone who’s undergone a Huge Change in her life, she’s moving from solitary to being part of a team, to being an underling to being in charge. The events of Elevator Pitch are her metaphorical death.

Moving into JKEU, Rachel’s entire life changed after an injury, another “death” for her, but this one pushed her into Reversed death, where she experienced stagnation, she retreated into herself, and she stagnated and lonely for almost a decade. She had to purge a lot of who she considered herself and do some internal transformation.

The Death Card is about changing and finding something different and it’s so beautiful, and misunderstood, just like Rachel.

Katrina

Major Arcana: Reversed Moon

Joy, enlightenment, resolution, deception revealed, relief

Going to be honest, Katrina was weirdly hard for me. I can think of metaphors for Katrina, notably Katrina as the ocean, and Katrina as a preserved rose but I remembered that I can reverse cards forward. So I believe that Katrina would be the Reversed Moon.

Katrina in Joust Because, is more of a supporting role for her? She’s a main character, but she is more of a representation a new different path for her new friend. Finding a new friend who just understood her, now that was the relief there. (Also like the deception revealed of a secret side)

Moving into the greater JKEU, Katrina who I love to death, will lie to herself, she’ll believe that her real self isn’t good enough, especially for Janice Wood. So instead she’ll find herself resorting to trickery and illusion, to maintain that she’s something she believes is more palatable, which is perfect for the Upright Moon,

Katrina experiences the most joy, when she gets to be herself and shed the illusion of the Upright Moon, she finds the joy in shedding all her inhibitions and being the truest version of herself.

Janice Wood

Major Arcana: Magician

Originality, self confidence, skill, a breakthrough, resourcefulness

I was pleasantly surprised to find that Janice was the Magician like it makes perfect sense, but the Magician is also one removed from the Fool in the order of the Major Arcana, and it made me think about the Josh and Janice parallels that I am obsessed with.

Back in Trade School Musical 2, we encounter a Janice who’s trying to be Jane Nobody, who doesn’t want to stand out, where she’s demonstrating the traits of the Reversed Magician, of insecurity and untapped talent. She doesn’t want to be herself. However, as she learns that people will still accept her, she regains her confidence and embraces the Upright Magician.

Moving into JKEU, where I will be borrowing heavily from Janice, she struggles when she loses her desire to create, to be a craftsperson, she gets so unsure of herself, and her place in life.

She loses her sense of self-confidence. Janice will also delay difficult conversations, and deny things to herself, so she doesn’t have to confront hard realities.

Janice Wood is a creative, sturdy, generous person, and she continues to create and be passionate about many many things, which makes her the Magician.

Hope you enjoyed this? PIBE has me by the throat. Let me know if you want more characters?

My tarot cards : Tarot of the Divine! They are very cool.

#play it by ear #pibe #pibe fanfic #carnivorous carpentry #glass falcon #jkeu #katrina falconthief #rachel paneofglass #janice wood #josh falconthief #is this interesting? to other people?#I hope so?#I thought too much about this #enjoy at least the pretty cards!

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streets-in-paradise · 6 months

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Reality Check - BarclayPierce ( Andy x Nica)

Warnings: Inspired on this post and the lovely contributions from the community it received.

Summary: After trying and failing to help for so long, Andy knows his words are bassically worthless in the trial. Still, there is something else he can do in order to help Nica in her well deserved revenge against Tiffany.

Showing his love for her so her abuser could get the chance of watching his feelings being required freely and consensually.

Notes: I'm not familiar with the usamerican law, so this may not be very believable. However, in a show where a possessed doll can see a doctor i guess i'm free to take some liberties.

Tags: @barclaysangel @series-thoughts @rogertaylorismyking

Even if his words meant nothing in a world that would never stop taking him as crazy, Andy promised to Nica that he was going to be there for her and he wasn't backing off from his promises. Only being pulled out by the guards could have stopped him from pridefully supporting her in the most important moment of her life after being free from possession and the old murder charges against her.

The day she would bring Tiffany's doom without having to spill a single drop of blood, letting the court serve the justice that she deserved. He knew she would have been happier doing it by herself, given that he was the onlyone who fully understood her thirst for fucked up vengeance. Things took a different turn far away from his area of expertise. They wouldn't be able to torture Tiffany together like they once hoped, but he was going to watch Nica testify against her maniacal kidnapper with the same satisfaction he would have had seeing her pick his trustable flamethrower.

The courthouse had mixed reactions to their arrival. Rachel and the kids seemed happy to find out Nica wouldn't have to go through the process alone, but the surprise inclussion shocked some others.

Her abuser didn't see it coming, she had a hard time trying to understand what was he doing there and precisely alongside the witness she cared to most about. The onlyone she wanted to see, who she expected to find without any company. Her troubled confussion was such that her eyes had followed untill he took seat as if she would be trying to figure him out.

The story he had to tell was as insane as hers and if he wasn't there to speak … What else would be left to think in the obsessive mind of Tiffany Valentine? The sweet smile he gave to Nica as she was heading to make her statements was suspicious enough to awake an irrational rage. Lack of context didn't allow her to understand the accurate emotional meaning for that sense of complicity between them, but one thing was clear to her.

He seemed so in love and she loathed it.

Concerned only in being Nica's emotional support, Andy ignored the effect his presence had on her agressor's obsession. He was aware of being the luckiest in the arch nemesis lottery, but never had much chance of witnessing Tiffany's level of delusion by himself. Most of his knowledge about that came from comments of her three main victims.

A chance presented itself and it made him feel sick.

The defense lawyer got her work completely screwed by her client just as she was cornering Nica regarding the motives for the confession that exonerated her.

" Because I love you!" Tiffany had cheerfully screamed to the woman testifying against her for the whole courtroom to hear, pretty much as if she expected thankfullness for it.

The delusion was strong, way beyond his understanding. Andy was shocked and pissed off in equal amounts. After kidnapping her, sexually assaulting her and dismembering her so she could keep her controlled one year more, the bitch would still call that love hoping Nica would love her back.

It was all she cared about, perfectly willing to fuck up her case just to keep insisting as if her victim could ever feel anything but hate for her. Nica wasn't even shying away from showing reasonable disgust and hatred, but Tiffany won't care for real about what she had to say unless it would serve to feed her fantasy.

That bitch needed a reality check, a wake up call she wouldn't easily ignore. Maybe then she would feel trully broken and finally hit rock bottom.

If she only knew of their flourishing feelings, of their late night talks and morning kisses … of how Nica had willingly choosen him. Him, of all people, a man frequently underestimated in his romantic potential even by Chucky himself. The good enough for no one, the loner whose call in life was chazing that doll till the end of days. Him, and not her, the fake movie star with a fabulous lifestyle and glamorous looks whose only desire in life was having her.

There was still a key role for him to play in the vengeance, he could help the cause with something better than torture weaponry or a bomb testimony. His genuine love for Nica, what could make him hold enough power to ruin Tiffany's day just by being himself. Measuring his demeanour to avoid a scandall required of subtle gestures if he didn't want to get kicked out of the courtroom, but he wanted to show he was trully proud of Nica's strenght to endure the questioning of the lawyer and facing the abuser that still had a false sense of ownership over her.

As soon as they were done with her, he focused in lovefully reflecting that strenght through some comfort.

" You did it amazing! Nica, i'm so fucking impressed. " He whispered at her. " I wished I could stand up and clap."

Still going through the conflictive emotions of the trial, she gave him a half smile.

" Let's hope you are not the onlyone. "

Andy caressed her cheek and Nica followed the movement of his hand with her head, showing clear enjoyment of his touch. A simple, sweet moment before focusing back on the trial, but enough to make Tiffany's blood boil.

From there she could only obssess wondering if her intuitive fears were truth, if all her hard work to keep her only resulted in having to watch her land on Andy's arms. The mere idea sent her over the edge of a mental breakdown, she had to be stopped by the judge from keep screaming at him over and over to take his hands off Nica.

" What are you going to do about it? Chop off my arms? " He fearlessly taunted her, purposedly using the dark style of Chucky that he knew so well. " I would like to see you try. "

A call for order stopped Nica from contributing to his mockery, having arrived late to the same conclussion. Tiffany could keep ignoring her open declarations of hate, but the image of her answering positively to someone else's caresses was going to haunt her more than the fear of going to prison.

Her man have learned a few of her lessons in psycological torture and Nica couldn't be prouder.

The best was saved for last, on the moment of the verdict. The worst day on that bitch's life that they were going to ruin even more. Driven by the impure joy found in the sentence to death, Andy pulled Nica in for a passionate, almost delirous kiss that he iniciated without caring for the context. As Tiffany was storming out bitching at her lawyer she stumbled with the scene and the disgusted shock overcame everything else.

For an instant, she even forgot of the lethal punishment awaiting her.

At that precise instant, Andy raised one hand to flip off while the other was still grabbing Nica, who smirked devilishly against his lips.

An hysterical cackle from a very surprised Rachel Fairchild crowned the insanity of the moment. If it wasn't for the police custody, the humilliation would have pushed Tiffany to jump over Andy seeking to strangle him the way she considered Chucky should have done many years before.

" I DID NOTHING TO YOU!!" She yelled instead, recriminating him as if her breakup with Chucky would be enough to automatically exonerate her from any guilts he could personally attribute her and must had released her from his his radar. " WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? ME!!! I KEPT HIM AWAY FROM YOU FOR OVER A DECADE, YOU DISGRACED LITTLE SHIT … AND THIS IS HOW YOU PAY ME?? TAKING NICA FROM ME?? WHY?"

Andy did the effort of looking unamused by her madness.

" Because I love her. " Was his simple reply, an ironical comeback twisting the same words he heard her say back when she interrupted the testimony. " … And i'm pretty sure she loves me back. "

They could tell by her far gone expression that she was trying to convince herself it was all lies.

" Of course i love you!" Nica followed, admitting a truth he knew while feeling ecstatic of killing her hope. " i'm crazy for him, thanks for setting us up!! Turns out I went from being the prisoner love doll of your sick dollhouse to have my own teddy bear. Wild, isn't it? Andy gives the best hugs, and i didn't even need to explain him about boundaries. He gets the consent part, so I indulge him. "

" See the bright side, Tiffany! At least you are gonna go knowing Nica is in better hands" Andy mocked her with ironical positivity. "… My hands, if the walls of my place could speak of the things we do whenever your children aren't there. They are staying with us, you know? Ohh right! Probably you don't know because they haven't visited you."

He smiled pridefully, then went to congrat Rachel and the kids, giving Nica her space to finish off her enemy. The things he overheard her say were so incredibly vile and deliciously hatefull that being impressed was not enough to describe how that made him feel.

Enamored, charmed, completely turned on, could be more accurate. ' … I'm going to roll this chair all over your fucking grave' was the last thing he got to listen, wishing he could have added that he would probably be standing in one knee proposing within the same action.

Tiffany was the one soon to be on death row, but Nica was going to be the death of him.

#andy barclay #nica pierce #tiffany valentine #andy x nica #barclaypierce

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