#they support a lot of gates that's all i'm saying

[1000punks]

bonding. ¹⁴//giving

MASTERLIST.

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. passionate smut! oral for everyone (as a treat)! little angst, little hurt, LOTS of comfort and catharsis.

word count: 3,523

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

header credit: i'm no graphic designer, but i made it!!

Their mouth was so hot around him that it burned. Astarion bit back the urge to whimper out in pleasure, instead gritting his teeth and redoubling his grip in their hair. Festé's tail coiled tightly around his ankle, twitching at the end and brushing against his calf. He glanced around, letting out his breath in a racking sigh as he pressed his palm against the door. They hadn't even let him take them to bed, for fuck's sake. Here they were, barely in the doorway of the bedroom, and…

"Sh- Shit," he moaned out softly, nearly banging his head back against the door. A forked tongue certainly had its benefits, he had to concede; and Festé's was capable of doing the unholy. "Fuck, don't stop…" he muttered before he could catch himself. They chuckled deep in their chest, pressing one palm flat to the door and moving more urgently on him. Their free hand slid up his thigh before clawing down gently. It sent his head spinning, and his hips began to twitch involuntarily, which only spurred the damn imp on. He tugged at their hair, and they pulled back, panting softly and looking up at him.

"What is it…?" Festé's voice was ragged, though their touch on his thigh was gentle. He didn't answer right away, instead reaching to tilt their head back by their chin. The elf watched as their eyes fell closed, a grin spreading across their face. Slowly, he guided them forward, and they swallowed him down once more.

"I don't know how you do that," he sighed, resting his head back against the door once more. "You take me apart so easily." The tiefling moaned softly below him, moving at the slower pace he set. Their tongue ghosted over the tip each time he pushed them back, and he was past the point of no return as it was. He curled in on himself, feeling his knees buckle, and gripped the doorframe for support when he started to shake. He bucked, feeling them choke in surprise before relaxing with a soft whine as he spilled over their tongue and down their throat. Astarion's own moan was a quiet, strangled thing, barely making it from his chest to his lips. Finally, he let go, sliding to the floor before them and breathing heavily.

"I can't say, maybe it's love," their voice was thick and husky; and their smile was blissful satisfaction when he glanced their way. He closed his eyes and managed an airless chuckle.

"You filthy little imp, I had a romantic encounter planned for us, and you ambushed me." He blinked his eyes open, reaching to pull them closer by the towel draped across their shoulders. They obliged, leaning in to peck over his neck.

"Nn… I think the candlelight and the rose petals in the bath were both nice touches." They paused, nibbling at his ear, and he twitched, still spent for the moment. "But somehow, I knew you would want to ravish me, so I had to beat you to it, didn't I?"

"Oh, you seduced your extremely willing husband, what a big win for you, darling," he retorted. They chuckled together, and he nosed at their neck, inhaling softly. 'Husband,' it had a certain ring to it. Before he could stop himself, he was running the tip of his tongue over their skin, and they pressed into it, expectant.

"If he's not careful, I may have to do it again," they murmured, tugging the towel away and baring their neck as they usually did.

"Always so willing, little love…" he breathed against their neck, moving one hand back into their hair. Suddenly, they were pulling away, standing up and smirking at him.

"You're right, maybe it's time to deny you." Festé pushed their fingers into his hair and scratched lightly over his scalp. It took no effort for him to lean closer, following their scent. It was hard to ignore before, but now… He brushed his lips over their stomach, followed momentarily by his tongue, looking up at them after a moment. Astarion's eyebrows furrowed as he lowered his head, pulling their leg up and daring to taste. It was less than a heartbeat of theirs before he was lost, licking over their clit fervently and letting his eyes flutter closed. Unconsciously, his fingers tightened around their thigh, nails biting into flesh too easily. Festé allowed him a moment before they pushed his head back. "Come to bed, Star."

He sighed harshly as they moved away; and it was only fair to rush them while their back was turned, wasn't it? Festé laughed as he wrestled them to the bed, and he joined in, chuckling softly as he took in the sight of them. "Gods, love, you torture me." He sat up, really studying them for a moment. The odd scars and blemishes that adorned their shoulders and chest. The long, faded scar just under their navel. Someone could easily miss it if they didn't know the whole story; but he traced his fingertips over it slowly, following the line with his eyes. The elf could tell Festé was watching him, but he didn't mind. Tonight, he wanted to take his time. To move based on feeling, not pure instinct. He lay on his stomach between their thighs, propping himself up on his elbow and tracing over the ridges on his imp's hips, noting how the 'v' they formed perfectly framed their groin. They were perfect. Astarion glanced up at them, entranced.

"What is it, love?" they whispered, cupping his cheek, letting him melt against their palm. The elf blinked slowly, forgetting how to breathe when their fingertips found his ears.

"Festé…" his head was down in an instant, trailing messy kisses over their scars, their hips, the insides of their thighs. He wanted to return but a fraction of pleasure he felt when they touched him this way. He let his tongue mould against the ridges of their hips, pushing their legs up to his shoulders. "Festé…" He wasn't sure if he was fully conscious anymore, and he didn't stop to take a breath before he dove in. It had them tensing, drawing in a sharp gasp where he hadn't.

"Star! Gods…" a soft chuckle broke from their lips, and he watched them, licking them over slowly. More, he thought, letting his tongue wander, paying no mind to the slick against his chin. Every movement was deliberate, but there was no finesse to speak of. He barely felt their fingers moving into his hair when he hitched their legs up higher, unblinking. Astarion sealed his lips around their clit for the briefest moment, noting how it made their back arch, before lapping slowly through their folds. Anything for his imp to cry out his name like that, again. Perhaps forever. Anything to make their hips rut just as they were in this moment. Was this ecstasy? He finally blinked, sleepily, when they looked down at him, transfixed as always with their burning gaze. "Star… Star…" the tiefling whimpered. It only drew him in further, flicking his tongue over their clit firmly, forcing them to chant his name like a prayer. It sounded so sweet from their lips. He had to give them more.

The elf smoothed his hands over their hips, and up their sides, pulling them that much closer; and finally he felt their grip tighten in his hair. It was the telltale sign they were about to break. He formed his lips around them again, enjoying the brief tension before a moan ripped from their chest. Festé's thighs went slack, falling open just for him; and finally, he allowed himself a breath, lapping through the slick, inhaling their scent and letting it wash over him. And he kept going, pushing them to the point of overstimulation while his fingers wandered, feather-light, over their belly.

"Star…" their breath caught as he continued through their tiny convulsions. "Star, love…" Fingertips massaged his ears once more; and this time, he was the one moaning out, eyebrows furrowing. Suddenly his own desire was crashing against his eardrums, roaring up his back, tightening and writhing in his middle. He felt the drag of his length against the sheets, and realized he'd been rutting against the bed to seek relief.

"I need you," his voice sounded worn as he brushed his lips over the inside of their thigh. Small. Pathetic. "I need you, Festé; I need…" They were already pulling him up, gently. Guiding him home.

"Shh… Hey, I'm here," their lips had found his neck, warm and grounding. Hands at his hip and on his length, moving slowly and forcing a gasp. It was so quick that he felt his fangs catch his bottom lip as he planted one hand above their shoulder. "Here, Star," they breathed against his ear, wrapping their legs around his hips when he pressed into them. The elf sank in, moving his free hand to cradle their head, letting out a huff from his nose. Astarion settled, not moving, on top of them while they dragged their fingers over his back. "You're safe, love." Their voice sent a shiver down his spine.

"I know," he slurred against their neck. He could feel the thrum of their body. The rush of their blood. The elf began to move as the first tears ran down his cheeks. He didn't even think, he didn't have to. It was blissful. Festé's hand splayed over his back, and Astarion lifted his head. It was blissful not having to hide anymore, not having to perform. They met his eyes and he watched them smile widely at him, instantly. His lips parted, transfixed once again; and their other hand came up, stroking over his cheek. They drew him down gently, kissing at the corner of his mouth, making his hips snap forward in surprise. He felt the rush of breath over his lips when they sighed out harshly, turning and swallowing it up when he licked into their mouth. Then he felt the desire writhing in his middle again. Festé kissed him back messily, and he moaned softly against their lips, hips falling into a slow rhythm with theirs. "Gods, I love you…" His voice came forth as a broken whimper, and for the first time, he didn't feel embarrassed. Astarion could be weak and broken in their arms. He didn't have to pretend.

"I love you, too," they whispered, brushing their nose against his, pressing their fingertips into his back. They chuckled suddenly. "We're in deep, aren't we? We're in trouble, we're in so deep." The imp sat up, pecking at his lips once more, making him smile and push them flat on their back. Tears were still running freely down his cheeks; and they seemed unfazed, as they usually were, continuing to pet over his back. He buried his face in their neck, grinding into them slowly and making their breath hitch. Their thighs tightened around his hips, and he fought the urge to bite them when he felt their tail graze the dip in his back. Festé gasped when he gripped the back of their neck, bringing his other hand down to pull their hips up roughly. Suddenly, he was holding them too tightly, moving too hard against them, forcing broken moans from their chest. Their fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close, but he fought it. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would give in and devour them; he was salivating already. It took all of his will, but he managed to bite the pillow next to the tiefling's head instead. It did nothing to soothe the desire, but he didn't want to make a bloody mess on their wedding night. After a moment, he let go, panting against his lover's ear.

Gods, if only he weren't a monster, he wouldn't have to worry about hurting them. But now, at least, he hoped they would stay. Stay… "…ausa tel'quiet… Salen Ar…" he gritted out between breaths. Stay with me, please, he repeated silently, resting his forehead to theirs. Festé looked bewildered, for once, shaking beneath him. Astarion realized he was shaking, too; and pressed his lips to theirs firmly, his pace unchanging as they tumbled over the edge together. The elf floated for a while, it seemed, in a comforting darkness, before coming back to himself. His face was buried in the imp's neck once again, and he was sobbing softly.

They had shifted slightly, and wrapped their arms over his back; and his own were clamped tightly around them. He shook his head, attempting to clear it before he made to sit up. Festé let him go, and Astarion reached up to wipe his eyes. "Are you all right?" Their voice was calm. He nodded slowly, face still in his hands. "Would you like me to keep holding you?" They asked, and he nodded again, sighing softly and resting back on top of them. He was waiting, but the embarrassment, the shame, didn't come. He felt… weightless. The only thing tethering him to earth was them, and he lifted his face from their shoulder to look at his imp. They glanced his way and smiled. "What is it, dearest?"

"I'm happy, darling," he whispered. He understood now. "Now I can see why you cried, that night in the cemetery." Astarion shifted, slipping his arms underneath them once more. "You were relieved, weren't you?" He watched as a blush crept over their cheeks, and they chuckled softly. The sound was glorious, and he bathed in it.

"Well, I suppose I was. I knew, I think, anyway… I knew a long time ago that I was, mm. Deeply moved by you, love. I wanted to be yours so badly." They looked away, worrying their lip with their teeth. "When you told me that you wanted me, I felt so…"

"Relieved," he breathed, nodding. He moved close, brushing their cheek with his nose, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He let his body relax, and Festé held him tight.

"Star…?" they whispered after what seemed like hours.

"Mm?" he mumbled against their chest. "What?"

"You didn't bite me, but it looked like you wanted to. Are you… Are you okay?" Astarion closed his eyes, turning his head and burying his face against their sternum, feeling suddenly sluggish.

"I didn't want you to spend your night with a monster for once," he answered, voice resigned. "Your wedding night, no less." He lifted, crawling over them slowly and tilting his head when he met their eyes. "After what you told me about… him," he cleared his throat, glancing away. "After you told me he took advantage of you for all of those years, I just wanted to give you something sweet. Something normal." He turned back, catching their gaze with his. "Relatively." The truth, he thought, was only getting easier to tell while in Festé's presence. Maybe that was their supernatural ability. "I didn't think it was right to ask of you; not after you told me someone took you for your very body, Festé. I was being protective, in my way. Can you blame me?"

"Well…" the tiefling chewed their lip as the elf leaned on one elbow. "No, I guess not. But Star, I married a vampire, not a mortal man." They reached up, carding through his hair. "My body and my blood are yours. I'm yours, and I want your hooks in me. I want all of you. Every single thing you have to offer, pure or monstrous." They laughed, almost to themself. "Take me, and all I have to give. It's given freely."

He considered it for a moment, resting his cheek against his fist. He knew better than to mistrust their reassurances by now. Astarion leaned down, guided by their hand as before, and inhaled deeply as the tip of his nose touched their neck. They were his, of course. But more importantly…

"I'm yours," he breathed, and felt their pulse stutter before the tiefling nodded. With a soft groan of relief, he pushed his fangs into the tempting throb of their neck. The elf brought his hand down to cup their cheek as gently as he could when their blood washed over his lips. He felt a surge of emotion: a warm, calm flame in his chest, crackling and spreading slowly. He closed his eyes in a matter of blinks, letting it flood his senses, panting quietly in tandem with Festé. Their hand rested at the back of his neck, and he hummed, pulling away. Astarion didn't want to take too much. The elf straightened up, and then his vision went blank before an odd scene unfurled before his eyes.

There was a pale man crouching before him, eyes widened in surprise. A rosy hand was slowly tracing down the side of his neck. Over a scar: two distinct puncture holes. His lips were stained scarlet, and parted in surprise. Then his vision went back to the eyes. The pupils were blown so wide they were nearly black, with the barest hint of a deeper crimson along the edge. Suddenly there was a twinge of panic; soft and quiet, and the hand rested against the man's cheek. Astarion felt the warmth of Festé's palm at the same time, and it shook him from his reverie.

"Star? Hey, are you all right?" They murmured, patting at his cheek gently. He blinked at them stupidly, and the tiefling's eyes narrowed.

"I didn't imagine… Wow," he rasped, finally. A wild grin spread across his face. "It worked. I don't know how, I didn't ask Shadowheart to… We couldn't even find the full spell." He paused, then repeated, "Wow." The tears were back in full force when he met Festé's eyes again, and he felt the panic twist into confusion. "I saw myself, love. For the first time in two centuries. Through your eyes." The realization hit their eyes at the same time Astarion felt it, then he laughed, mirroring their excitement when his imp shot up from the bed.

"Star! That's… Oh my gods, that's fantastic. Oh… Oh." Festé pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you, my love." The rush of emotion was so pure, and honest, that it caught the elf off-guard. He wrapped his arms around them, his warm, beautiful sun; and the two laughed and cried softly together.

Seconds or hours passed while their eyes ran dry, then Festé gently pulled him on top of themself as they lay back down. Astarion went willingly, laying cheek to chest with a heavy sigh. After a moment, they whispered, "Do you want to see more, love?" He noted the quiet resignation of their voice, mirrored in the back of his mind.

"Wait," he said. "It's not working for you, is it?" There was a weak tugging at the corner of his mind. It stopped when the imp shifted under him slowly.

"Well, no. It isn't." Embarrassment, and a note of shame. "It's all right. Maybe it will just take time." He looked up, and they smiled, laying their finger on the tip of his nose. "Do you want to see more?" they repeated. Then, "I can relive all of our greatest hits, if you like." A chuckle reverberated through their chest, then the flashes came. His own angry face, all those days ago in the dirt on the Sword Coast, a dagger glinting in the harsh sunlight. His look of panic as he crouched over their bedroll that first time. They lingered on the nights in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, talking and laughing quietly together until it was nearly dawn. He picked out the ways in which his features had begun to soften, the longer he was by their side. How Festé had never balked when he had gotten angry or upset. He spied his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks when they drew close, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Him, half-dressed and outlined in pale moonlight, his eyes twinkling. Last of all, his lopsided grin only hours before when he spotted his imp at the end of the aisle. He felt Festé swell with adoration at that, and squeezed them tightly.

"You've truly given me everything, darling. I can't repay you for all of your kindness." He tilted his head, frowning at them. They chuckled again.

"Oh, come now. Forty or fifty years of your deepest favour should do the trick." Astarion pushed up on his elbows, bending forward to kiss them deeply, yet another sob catching in his chest.

"You have it. Anything you want from me, for as long as we both draw breath." He sighed over their lips, before resuming his place on their chest. A flare and curl of heat seemed to tickle at his belly, and he stifled a laugh. "You little devil, you." And he was on their lips again, pulling their legs around his waist. They moved slowly and quietly into the dawn together, laughing and weeping joyfully into their new life.

author's notes:

first of all, thank you for your support and/or continued support for my writing, this fic, maybe my other fics too! you rock! you're a treasure! astarion voice you're a vision, darling!

A: " [Stay]...with me, my sun..."

some of you may ask: why now? why the mindlink "let me show you your beautiful vampire face" now? well festé figured out quickly that the tadpole was something borne of manipulation, and decided they were only going to use it on enemies. they would have felt icky about using those powers with Astarion, even if he said he was all for it. plus, get this: i wanted to! but ohhh... what's wrong with it, don't you wonder? why does it only work one way? hmm~~

next time: picks up a guitar On the road again... I can't wait to get on the road again...~

#.fic #fic: bonding. #otp: bloodfire #oc: festé #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion acunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #spawn!astarion x named!tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x oc #spawn!astarion x oc

[chirpsythismorning]

3 bands/musicians mentioned in this new Netflix description for Stranger Things.

The Clash - Should I Stay or Should I Go

Iconic. Played a huge role in s1-2 and will likely make a return in the final season.

Kate Bush - Running Up that Hill (A Deal With God)

Legendary. Played a huge role in s4 and is arguably one of the few tracks to be in the same league as Should I Stay or Should I Go (which is really saying something).

Cyndi Lauper - Time After Time

Umm. Played once in the series, during the snowball. Never again since. Out of ALL the artists they could've picked to mention from the Stranger Things soundtrack (Metallica, Journey? TOTO? THE POLICE??? EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE WAS LITERALLY USED IN S2 AND S4??), and yet they chose an artist, whose only had one song play on the show, all the way back in s2?

#stranger things #time after time #byler #time after time gate #idk time after time lyrics are really hmmmmm interesting ngl #they support a lot of gates that's all i'm saying #even blue meets yellow in the west like literally with the minute/hour hand references #anyways time after time coming back in s5 truthers unite

[meownotgood]

good morning... I woke up very sick 😭

#uuggghhhhh #I've been working so much and this is my first weekend off in a few weeks #and I was like I'm totally gonna play video games finally and do lots of stuff #and then I wake up today just feeling like death #my baldurs gate time.... I need my baldurs gate time............ #I took some medicine and it helped a bit but my throat is still so sore it hurts to talk #I'll probably spend the weekend sleeping 😔 #but I just wanted to say thank you for all the support on my fic #I'll respond to comments and asks when I'm able! 🫂

[gyuswhore]

Fifteen to Forever

"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it

WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist

[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33

It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me. 

But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone. 

There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside. 

Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building. 

You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years. 

Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.” 

By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you. 

Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends. 

You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day. 

“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”

You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong. 

They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey. 

He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise. 

“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung. 

“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”

“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects. 

“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.” 

You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too. 

You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand. 

You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time. 

There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own. 

It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday���s hockey game. 

If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight. 

He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something. 

“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say. 

He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?” 

“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward. 

“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you. 

“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile. 

“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.

“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.

“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.

“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”

It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing. 

“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”

“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”

You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating. 

“Wait!” 

You turn around at his voice. 

“I never got your name.”

Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.

Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.

He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours. 

His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled. 

He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out. 

“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.

“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.” 

He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek. 

You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off. 

With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to. 

Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before. 

He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both. 

Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).

It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do. 

With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye. 

“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.” 

He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore. 

He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time. 

“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered. 

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”

“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”

“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”

“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”

“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay. 

“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower. 

His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left. 

There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship. 

“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?” 

Slowly, but surely, he nods. 

“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.” 

In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home. 

Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again. 

As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade. 

There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet. 

But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. 

Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.

Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own. 

As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back. 

By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you. 

As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him. 

You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other. 

Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative. 

You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon. 

He let a couple tears slip. 

And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest. 

It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind. 

You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes. 

When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.

It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.

At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow. 

By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies. 

The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like. 

Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption. 

A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?” 

“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training. 

He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.” 

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day. 

And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other. 

Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for. 

The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed. 

You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year. 

You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have. 

“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.” 

You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile. 

“Oh, he’s here with me,” 

You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens. 

Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.  

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.

You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”

“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.” 

“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?” 

“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.” 

He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”

“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him. 

“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”

There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms. 

“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.” 

He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time. 

“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like. 

“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different. 

You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears. 

Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt. 

“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden. 

“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.” 

It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill. 

And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are. 

“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.

You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”

“Marry me.” 

It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all. 

“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”

You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights. 

That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away. 

“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups. 

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.” 

You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation. 

You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring. 

Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows. 

He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward. 

You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently. 

He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.

He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”

If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow. 

His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening. 

You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now. 

He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours. 

Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself. 

His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours. 

“You okay?” 

You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely. 

He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance. 

Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance. 

He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you. 

He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind. 

Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself. 

The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest. 

You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”

“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak. 

You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass. 

Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina. 

You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other. 

He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.” 

A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture. 

You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another. 

Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad. 

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other. 

You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain. 

Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say. 

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”

taglist (strikthru could not be tagged): @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seungcheol fluff #seuncheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungchel angst #scoups #svt #svt smut #em.writes

[cheriladycl01]

Winning Gold in Life - Lando Norris x BritishOlympicFigureSkating! Reader

Plot: You and Lando will try to coordinate his helmet designs to your figure skating outfit, so that you guys can match and win together.

Credits to off-t0-the-races for the GIF

"You looked amazing out there baby!" Lando grins picking you up and spinning you around as you got to the edge of the ice rink by the gate to leave.

You orange dress that had the Mclaren Logo all up the sheer see-through sleeves and on the back as if it were a tramp-stamp flowed around you hips as he spun you.

"Ah that was so nerve-racking having you watching me!" you exclaim, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. You both sat on the stands waiting for the results.

"Y/N, that was an fantastic performance. Think we have a chance for Gold!" your coach says coming over to you handing you your coat and gloves like she normally did after you'd been out on the ice.

"Thank you Maddie, I just hope it was enough!" you nod nervously. Lando rubs his hand up and down your legs in a comforting manor before pulling you into his hold.

"You did do well, no matter where you come... I'm going to be proud of you for just going out there today!" he whispers in your ear and tears start to build up in your eyeline. Some of you eyeliner and mascara had already started to melt off your face but Lando couldn't stand to see himself make it worse.

"Ohhhh, don't cry baby!" he laughs seeing your little pouty expression that he found adorable. You look at him is his thumbs wipe under your eyes trying to fix the black and brown makeup that had started to streak and make you loosely resemble a Panda.

As you waited for the results to come in, you anxiously bite your lips until you hear you name said by the Chinese commentator before the English one making you look at Lando and your trainer.

"Was that my name or am i tripping?" you ask looking between them and Lando has a huge grin on his face.

"That was your name baby, GOLD!" he exclaims and you crouch down into a sort of squat in shock. Tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N come on! Onto the ice!" you trainer grins and you take Lando's hand dragging him so he's as close to the barriers between the ice and the stadium seats as possible.

You see the camera on you and the other two medalists who you immediately pull into hugs, you'd gotten close to them since you guys landed here in Beijing.

You stake out to where the podium is and stand on the top place, getting help from someone to get up onto it. You smile at your flag, proud of what you've done for team GB.

The medal gets placed around you neck after the others and you get handed your flowers as you all stand listening to the British National Anthem, your hand on your heart and medal while you look up trying to keep the tears at bay.

You skate back and see Lando is filming your arrival making you make a silly face at the camera before showing your cold medal to him and the camera with a big cheesy grin on you face.

"Darling I'm so proud of you!" he smiles pulling you in for a hug and kisses your forehead as he takes a second to observe you.

"I love you so much, having you here for support was everything!" you admit, knowing you probably wouldn't have done as well if he wasn't here cheering you on.

"Well, now that you've got your first gold. I think it's time that I got my first win..." he smiles.

"Yeah? Will that be in Bahrain with your new matching lid" you grin at him and he nods.

"Need my good luck charm with me, if I'm going to win!"

And that was how you found yourself once again in the fuel scented paddock that you'd become accustomed too over the few years you'd been dating Lando for.

"Things have been looking promising babe! You guy's sandbagged hard!" you grin, knowing there was a lot more oophm to the car than what they'd let on in February's pre-season testing.

"Zac's orders. We'll be up there with Red Bull and Mercedes this year!" he grins and FP1 and FP2 proved that. He had a mega performance having the quickest time in the first and going third fastest in the second.

Sunday came around far to quickly for your liking and you were sat in the paddock in shorts and Lando's Mclaren Shirt for the warm weather Bahrain had brought. You even had to go to the merch stand to by yourself a McLaren hat because the darkness to you hair had started to burn the top of you head.

It was an embarrassing interaction, you asked for a Lando Norris McLaren hat but it was so busy and so loud they'd mistaken it for a Lewis Hamilton Mercedes hat so you were strolling through the paddock with that on your head.

"Ahhh, well if it isn't my biggest fan Y/N Y/L/N!" Lewis says catching you as he strides past on his scooter stopping to talk to you.

"They made a mistake at the merch shop. I didnt have the heart to correct them..." you chuckle and he laughs as well, he pulls out a pen starting to sign it while it was on your head.

"For my biggest fan" he laughs and you cant help but laugh as well. Only seconds later do the media catch on to the two athletes conversing and pull them up on it.

"Hey guys, how are we doing today!" one of the interviewers asks making you freeze a little like a deer in headlights.

"I'm doing great, just you know spending time with a fan!" Lewis jokes making the reporters laughs and turn to you.

"Yep, big fan of his work. Ppppft whose that Lando Norris guy in pole position. I don't know him..." you joke back knowing Lewis and Lando had the front row locked out.

"Y/N, all jokes aside it's great to see you back in the paddock now after all the training ... which clearly paid off congratulations" she smiles and you blush a little nod liking to brag or show off.

"Thank you, my team and I worked really hard. I obviously had the power of Mclaren and Lando on my side and I'm happy to have achieved Gold after my not so good attempt in 2018!" you cringe remembering when you were so much younger and naive that you hadn't performed as well, just missing out on a bronze medal.

"Well all the best to you and Lando!" she grins before keeping Lewis and letting you dash off back to McLaren.

2 hours later and you were anxuously biting your nails watching Lando catch up to the lead of the race after a slow pitstop and reclaim his P1.

It wasn't until the last lap, where DRS was enabled that he could overtake Charles and take back his P1 having an advantage on the final turn and straight for him to cross the finish line in P1.

His first F1 win.

You didn't have the most graceful reaction for a WAG, that was for sure but seeing Lando win after working so hard towards his goal, you couldn't contain your emotions.

You ran up to him, and you jumped on him not caring about the wetness of his suit from sweat and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as his gloved hands came down to support you holding just under your bum.

"You are amazing!" you cry pulling up his visor so you can see his own eyes that are full of tears.

You later watched on as he celebrated his podium with Charles and Lewis, and you saw the elated and happy expression on your face that you would do anything to keep on their permanently as your favourite thing about him was his smile.

That was your man... and he was forever your man.

y/user

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and pietra.pilao

y/user: Life recently! Winning Gold in all aspects of life ... McLaren Papaya inspired drip, and Lando getting a new lid for 2023 (I’m not allowed to show you guys till race weekend) <3

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landonorris: my gorgeous baby! I love you 🥰❤️

-> y/user: I love you more! Thank you for all your support recently 🫶🏼❤️

mclaren: when the drip is dripping 😦🤭🧡

-> y/user: always 🧡

fan1: it’s so cute how Lando and Y/N always match🥺

fan2: Y/N show us the lid we won’t snitch!

maxfewtrell: thank you for making it to the merch drop. We miss seeing you!

-> y/user: missing you too Max 🫶🏼

pietra.pilao: beautiful, gorgeous girl

-> y/user: no you 👆🏼☺️

-> pietra.pilao: let’s date ❤️

-> y/user: YES! Spa days for life 🫣🫶🏼

fan3: P and Y/N’s friendship is so funny 🥺🧡

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Back to training, without my mans 😭🫶🏼

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[veilkeeper]

thoughts on the astarion-halsin polymance

i know some people dont like the halsin polymance specifically if the PC's other partner is astarion but. i want to talk about it. because i think maybe a lot of people have come to conclusions without seeing the scenes in question for themselves. so let me give a different perspective.

disclaimers: *i know a lot of people ship/hc this polymance as a triad, but for the purposes of this post i'm talking specifically about the "hinge" dynamic we see in-game thx. **also i got the halsin romance trigger before completing astarion's personal quest, so this post is talking about that perspective, and all quotes are from those conversations. ***i respect people who dont play this route. you're allowed to play this game however you want. the purpose of this post is to discuss the canon, in-game text and how it supports the astarion-halsin polymance as a viable and healthy path for these relationships, with nuance and respect to astarion's personal issues. this is not meant to convert anyone, but it is meant to clarify and provide additional context that i feel is largely missing from a lot of discussions about how the polymance is "bad", unilaterally.

let's start with halsin, because i think he's the easier perspective to tease out here, given that he really leaves nothing to the imagination. he's incredibly earnest and open, and will happily describe his perspective on non-monogamy right out the gate. as he says...

The wolf mates for life, but the bear roams free and partners as its instinct dictates. I need to stay true to my nature, and you to yours.

now, to get ahead of potential backlash here... if you haven't spent a lot of time with halsin, particularly if you've never flirted with him, that line may imply that he's a "player". he is not. given the context of the PCs interactions with him up to this point (and how he treats the relationship after, if you confirm the romance), halsin is deeply devoted, and has really strong feelings for the PC. it's really sweet, i highly recommend romancing him, either as a polymance or solo.

what he's describing here is a perspective of cultural non-monogamy. that he believes his feelings are not diminished by having multiple relationships at the same time, and he expects that if the PC agrees to a relationship with him that they will respect his freedom to pursue others when/if such feelings arise, just as he will respect the PC's freedom to continue and/or pursue other relationships as well. it's a really succinct and frankly unexpectedly respectful negotiation of the terms of a polyam relationship.

and that respect is evident from the get go. if you've never seen this conversation, it basically opens with him saying "hey, i have these feelings about you, i was wondering if you maybe felt the same," and if the PC says that they do, he immediately acknowledges the existing relationship and tells the PC that they can't move forward without consent. and you cant; speaking to halsin again just has him ask the PC if they've spoken to their other partner yet. at every turn, halsin is incredibly respectful of the PCs other partner, he never diminishes that relationship, nor does he expect the PC to ever place him above that relationship. he even says:

Indeed, I am but one of your lovers. You and I should seek happiness, wherever it lies. You are all I want, but I will not hoard you to myself.

he makes it very clear from the get-go that he has no designs on the PC's other relationship and that he is more than happy to take whatever they want to give him.

which leads me to my overarching point: astarion is consenting to this dynamic specifically because the other person in question is halsin.

and we know this for a few reasons. first, because.... mechanically in game, he's the only person you can romance at the same time as astarion. while astarion mentions at various points that he is fine with "arrangements", generally speaking, every other potential romance partner results in a "you have to choose one of us" conversation. the reason astarion gives for why the PC has to choose varies, i believe, but since i don't have the dialogue on hand (i have been faithful as hell in my playthrough) i won't speculate about those conversations.

however, we also know that astarion is consenting to an arrangement with halsin specifically because of this line:

The druid is unique. He has a lot of experience with this type of arrangement. Thus, I'm sure it would be quite a harmless affair.

which is interesting, isn't it? hold onto this one, we'll circle back to it later. and then of course, the other line we need to discuss from astarion here is the famously controversial...

It's not because… you know… we haven't… in a while?

so this is where i get into the potentially controversial take that i have, because it's more nuanced than arguments i've seen on either side of the pro-/anti- polymance debate. but basically i think that astarion is... insecure. shocker, i know. but unlike some takes i've seen, i dont think this means he can't consent to a polyam relationship, i think it means that he has certain Conditions related to it, that he has decided have been met. and i think those conditions are as follows:

the PC's interest in halsin is not borne out of any deficiency of astarion's.

this is why he asks the famous question. he's insecure, and making sure that the PC's interest in halsin is not because astarion is failing to "satisfy" them, that it's not because he isn't enough. astarion has a lot of self-worth issues that he tries really hard to hide, and i think it would be easy for him to think that the PC starting another relationship could be a result of him being... insufficient.

for people who have never been in a polyam relationship, this is a thing. this is an important thing, and making sure all of your partners feel that they're valued and "enough" is an important part of navigating these relationships. astarion does the right thing here, by expressing his insecurity and asking for reassurance. and when the PC gives it to him, the relief is evident and he gives consent to the dynamic immediately. not because he's been coerced, but because he's been reassured.

PC: Gods, I don't want you to think that for a moment. Astarion: I know I was being foolish. But thank you for saying it.

the second condition is:

that he is still a priority

this is pretty self explanatory but since it's sort of the clincher for my whole argument here, i do have to say the quiet part out loud. i dont think what astarion wants or needs is to be the PC's only partner. he talks about "arrangements" on multiple occasions, i dont think he has a problem with sharing. what i do think he wants is to be the PC's primary partner. what he's consenting to, in my view, is hierarchical polyamory, to use the proper term. as in, the PC can fool around with whoever they want, even have feelings for other people, so long as they always come back to astarion. he needs to feel like he is secure and valued above others as he values them above others. he needs to feel like the PC isn't going anywhere.

and that's why he consents to an arrangement with halsin, but no one else. because all of the other romance options, the origin companions, would want to be equal with astarion, they would want non-hierarchical polyamory. halsin, on the other hand, is all about taking what can be given and having a more fluid understanding of relationships. he doesn't care if he's #1, he cares that the PC cares about him, right now. no formal definitions or obligations required.

that's what astarion means when he says "the druid is unique." that's what he means when he says "he has a lot of experience with this type of arrangement." that's what he means when he says it will be a "harmless affair." because he knows halsin is never going to try to take the PC away from him. he knows halsin isn't going to be a threat to him and his status with his partner. and that's why he's comfortable saying yes, even though he says no to every other possible arrangement.

it's not because he was coerced. it's not because he doesn't know how to say no. it's because he feels safe. and that's what we want.

some additional notes while i'm here...

on jealousy: a lot of people hc astarion as the jealous type, as perhaps a little possessive, and i am also one of those people. it makes sense; he's a guy who hasn't had anything in 200 years, and the PC is the first person he's cared about like this. i can definitely see him being a little possessive and prone to jealousy. but stepping outside of the realm of fiction, jealous/possessive feelings are often the result of insecurity and in real relationships should absolutely not be used as a tool to control the behaviour of another partner. and, crucially, jealous/possessive feelings are a thing to be talked about and worked through, not tip-toed around. the presence of those feelings does not automatically mean that a polyamorous relationship is impossible, it just means there's another thing to talk about, and by astarion consenting to the PC having another relationship, he's pretty clearly saying he's willing to talk through those feelings and work on them.

on the ability to consent: i know that astarion doesn't talk about his feelings enough. but i truly dont think that this is a case of astarion saying yes when he means no. astarion can say no, even in high pressure situations he wasn't expecting. he says no to the astral-touched tadpole (rather firmly, i might add), he says no to sleeping with the drow twins, etc. the scene that most people use as proof that astarion cannot consent happens in a much different emotional context, with a lot of direct coercion, and is followed by astarion taking back personal control and dumping the PC. that is not what happens in this scene, when astarion is consenting to a polyamorous relationship. there is no coercion (in fact the PC can explicitly say "i wouldn't even consider it if it bothered you", and astarion expected the conversation, so he would have been able to prepare his thoughts and feelings ahead of time. at no point does he say no or even imply he's not okay with an arrangement with halsin.

on timing: ive seen some people say that they would be more okay with the astarion-halsin polymance if all of this was not be happening right now. i agree with that. ideally, astarion would have more time to adjust to his relationship before it was opened up at all. but because this is a video game, everything is happening during the events of the game. and because this is a video game, the events of the game are high pressure and wild and everything is happening all at once. i don't blame people who elongate the timeline in fan content, or who turn down halsin because they think its "too soon." thats actually very explicitly something halsin says when he initially propositions the player - that he hopes it isn't "too soon." however, astarion still consents (see point above), and relationships barely ever have good timing. one could argue that even the solomance with astarion does not have good timing, when considering astarion's trauma and recovery. so. we make do. and i think it would be... a disservice? to what is (in my opinion) really good polyam writing to just say "actually it's all terrible and icky because there's a lot going on right now" and dismiss it out of hand.

.......................and i think that's everything. thank you for joining me on this very long (oops) deep dive into this. a double thank you for reading all the way through if you don't like the astarion-halsin polymance. i hope i gave you a different perspective, even if i didn't change your mind. love ya <3

#i am happy to have discussions on this post but let's be civil please! #astarion #halsin #halsinmance #halsin polymance #bg3 #bg3 meta #mine

[signoferoda]

FAVOURITE LOVE - HS

Summary: Harry’s daughter gets some valentines gifts from nursery

“Dad, why’s Vi carrying flowers?” Blake asked, his eyebrow raised as he looked at his youngest sibling walk out the nursery doors. She had a white dress on, small red hearts covering it, her hair in two pigtails.

Harry looked up, his eyes wide as he watched his daughter skip her way down to the nursery gates to meet her father and brother. “No clue, bud” he replies, waving at his daughter, whose arms were overflowing with all sorts of gift bags and flowers.

“Hi Daddy, hi Blakey!” She exclaimed, a smile on her face.

“Hi bug, what’s all this about?” Harry asked as he crouched down in front of his daughter, fixing her hair before leaning to kiss her cheek.

“It’s valentines” the little girl giggles, looking down at all her gifts

Blake blinks, his eyebrows furrowed, “valentines?”

“Yes, this one’s from Jake, this one’s from Landon and this one’s from Kate’s brother and this is from-”

“Boys gave you those?”

“Duh, Jake is a boy name Blakey” Novie rolled her eyes at her brother before turning to her father, who now supported an amused look on his face. “Isn’t that nice Daddy? They smell so good” she giggled, taking a big sniff of the flowers before shoving it in Harry’s face.

“Yeah they’re lovely” he replies, before taking the gifts off her and handing them to Blake to hold. He puts his arms out and his 5-year-old happily accepts, climbing onto her dad. “But, I’m your only Valentine baby” he pouts causing a soft giggle to escape Novie's mouth as he makes his way to the car.

“Silly daddy, are you jealous?” She looks back at Blake who’s still as confused as ever, and surprisingly a lot less dramatic than Harry, “are you jealous too Blakey?”

“No” Blake gruffs, “I'm mad, you’re only a baby Vivi”

“I'm not a baby” Novie gasped, scandalised that Blake would even mention that. “Daddy, mama is your Valentine. I need my own and now I got lots”

“Yeah, you and Mama are my Valentine bug,” Harry speaks, buckling Novie into her seat as Blake gets in the front. After buckling her in, Harry rounds the car and gets into the driver's seat. “Your brothers and I are all you need, you can have a valentine when you’re 36 ok?” Harry asked, putting his key into the ignition.

“Daddy, that’s not fair” Novie says, as she holds one of the teddys that was gifted to her. “Blake has a valentine, why can’t I?” Harry raises his eyebrow at the new piece of information.

Whilst, Blake narrows his eyes as he looks at his little sister, the little snitch he thinks. “I don’t have a valentine, Vi. Besides, you do have a valentine. All of us”

“Ok” Novie sighs and for a second Harry feels bad. “Daddy?”

“Yes, bug?” He asks as he finally pulls out of his parking spot and starts to drive off.

“I love you,” she says, “I love you too Blakey”

Blake shares a smile with Harry before the two tell Novie that they too, love her very much.

“You’re my favourite love Daddy” she smiles, “even if I get valentines from other boys and you Blakey are my second favourite love.”

“You’re my favourite love too Novie Bug” Harry smiles, his eyes softening, making a mental note to smother his daughter in kisses once they get out of the car. She was killing him, so perfect and cute.

“More than mama?” She asks from the back making Blake chuckle softly.

“Yes, even more than mama, bug” Harry speaks, looking through the rearview mirror to see Novie blowing him a kiss. He makes a kissing pout at her.

“Don’t fib Daddy, you love Mama so much more” she giggles.

“It's a different kind of love” he shrugs, “you’ll see when you’re 36” Harry replies as Blake chuckles.

“Now, let’s forget about those stinky boys, who wants ice cream?” Harry asks getting a chorus of me’s from his two kids.

#dad!harry styles #dad!harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry writing #harry styles writing #harry styles smut

[thedomesticanthropologist]

I present to you: at no point in the game is Astarion actually ready for a romantic relationship

Tav is the first person he drank from

The first person he has consensual sex with after 200 years

And he says to them: no one is like you. You're YOU

He genuinely believes that Tav is the *only* person who would be this way, even if it isn't true. He does fall in love with you, he does want you, but I present to you the idea that if things hadn't gone down EXACTLY as they had, Astarion NEVER would have initiated a partnership/romantic relationship for YEARS after escaping Cazador for good.

The man is coded for survival, for self-preservation, and is inherently selfish by nature. It is only because Tav gives selflessly and determinedly reinforces wanting to be with him that he caves in and allows it, but if you try to leave he's thrilled. This is for the best he says, you don't deserve this facade from me he says.

"I don't know how to be with someone even if I want to. I want this to be real but I don't know what real is. I need to not have sex right now"

In act 2, if you break up with him, he agrees with you. He thinks it's the right thing for you because hes not ready. He won't say this unless you initiate a break up but how could he possibly let go of the best thing that's happened to him in his entire undead life? He wouldn't toss out the treasure of you even if he didn't feel ready.

It really does take a patient, calm, supportive Tav to get him in the end, and he DOES want you, I'm not arguing that

I'm arguing that that man is not ready for a committed relationship, doesn't know what a healthy relationship looks like, and in an ideal situation if he thought he had time and options in his life and if he felt safe he would have focused 100% on himself first for a VERY long time.

The tadpoles, the adventure, the pressures of the battles, the fighting the revenge the ascension and the ritual he has to fight or succumb to the fact that the sunlight is gonna nerf him again- all of this contributes to the perfect scene where Tav gets him right "out the gate", first by being a mark and a target and then by simply *not breaking it off with him*

And yes he's in love to the best of his ability to know what love is at this point

And yes he wants you very much

But the man is going through the biggest whiplash of his life and I can say with confidence that he's not... *Ready*. And after all is said and done, Tav will have to continue to be patient with many things with him. There are still a lot of hurdles. He may be with them for a long time before he wakes up one day and realizes, really really realizes, that he's ready.

The power dynamics are off, they're imbalanced. How could he say no to a perfect mark that gives him everything ? Blood, sex, waits when sex is off the table, never breaks up with him never leaves no matter how he rails against them? He can't. He won't, and he doesn't want to, but that doesnt make him emotionally ready for what a genuine relationship is.

He has to learn it, with you, over time, but I don't think he'd jump into learning that and going for it and seeing it as worth it if the situation were in any way different

Without the perfect storm of events, I don't see Astarion jumping into "commited relationship" to be clear, I'm not saying that he isn't capable of feelings or doesn't want tav it's just

It doesn't *seem* to match his character or his struggles to me. For a man that is completely self serving, he accidentally catches feels and then doesn't have the strength to cut you loose even though his act 2 confession is practically him asking you to leave him. If you take the Araj route in particular, he VERY plainly lays his shitty behaviour on the table as if daring you to punish him for it... Or maybe just expecting.

In his spontaneous scene it's softer, it's I love you but I don't know how to do this. And still if you say "I don't think you're ready to be in a relationship" he immediately agrees. In act 3, if you've stuck to him the whole time like glue, he never wants to let you go. Again, I think this level of connection is impossibly rare and everything had to happen as it did to get you there, but the power balance is off still. He says partner, equal, and he wants that. And he WILL get there

But he not only has to struggle with his past, his issues, his trauma, he has to struggle with the power imabalance that you're his Savior. YOU defeated Cazador. YOU protected him in camp and didn't stake him on sight. YOU fed him from thinking creatures for the first time. YOU are one of "a very few select people" who have had sex with him and not been slaughtered immediately afterwards.

You're everything to him

And by the end of the game you already see him trying to shift that power imabalance because HE SEES IT. If you say you'll protect him he WINCES and disagrees, he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be below you, but he sees himself that way anyway. And to me, that's the sign that he wasn't ready, he still isn't ready,

But he will be, one day. And I think that makes it a better written romance than thousands I've read, because it's not perfect. There's grey areas. There's things that can make you uncomfortable. There's parts of it that aren't healthy and won't be for a while. Who knows how long until he feels like he's your equal? Until he feels like this relationship is something he ever would have chosen if things were different?

But he does choose you. He does. He wants you. He'd just never have gotten the chance to if it hadn't been "right place right time" imho

#its giving star crossed lovers #its giving grey area #its giving long term trauma #its giving good fucking writing #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion romance

[winter2468]

How good are they at drag? - Baldur's Gate Characters

Gale: Waterdeep canonically has its own drag subculture, so he'd know the most about it, and his time working on the somatic components of spells means he can vogue at the speed of lightning. But while the spirit and the hands may be willing, the knees are weak. A single death drop would kill this man. I feel that he'd play to his strengths because he knows his bad back and creaky knees can't keep up with anything too vigorous, so while he'd put together something fun and visually impressive, it isn't a very athletic routine.

Karlach: Oh, she'd have so much fun. She likes dancing and Samantha Beart played her as a little Gender, so you'd end up with a fun and happy drag king persona who's having such a good time.

Astarion: He's dexterous, theatrical, and a dab hand with a needle. The costume is flawless. The routine is daring. Not much makeup because he can't see himself in a mirror, but honestly he doesn't need it. He'd act like it's all just a pointless excercise, but he'd get competitive with it. After the performance he gets a lot of compliments and realises that he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would.

Lae'zel: Gith genders work differently, so I don't think she'd 'get' it. That being said, she'd make a very hot drag king, so she'd have a successful routine if she just got up on stage and threw knives at things, and not even in time to the music.

Wyll: Canonically a dancer - and a dancer with excellent stamina. Routine practiced to perfection. He could perform it in his sleep. Having so much fun. I think he'd pick out a great song to do the performance to, as well.

Shadowheart: I'm open to having my mind changed about this, but I don't think she'd be good at it. She'd have some fun though. Support bad drag!

Halsin: I'm sorry king but I've seen your dance moves at the afterparty.

Minthara: At first, she flat-out refuses. Why would she ever want to pretend to be a man? Minthara thinks men suck. But if you could talk her into it you'd actually end up with a very funny routine as she puts on the persona of a weak and scared drow man, fluttering about the stage.

Jaheira: I have no evidence for this, but I think she'd be good at it. Gets up on stage, acts like a grade A DILF for the duration of one song, gets off the stage, says it was fun later in a very matter-of-fact way. Embarrases her kids.

Minsc and Boo: Minsc tears off his wig midway through the performance, revealing Boo underneath.

#this is not a baldur's gate quote #baldurs gate #bg3 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #karlach #karlach cliffgate #astarion #astarion ancunin #lae'zel #wyll #wyll ravengard #blade of frontiers #shadowheart #halsin #halsin silverbough #minthara #nightwarden minthara #minthara baenre #jaheira #minsc and boo #minsc

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 2}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: It goes without saying that your first overnight patrol in years happens to be with Joel Miller. But the conversation doesn't flow easily like it normally does, with your haywire emotions and his unintentional eavesdropping...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, reader is a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, reader snaps at joel, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, three (3) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, protective joel, minor injuries, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i just really got caught up in these two after work yesterday. i hope this chapter reads as well as the first one, i'm super nervous bc i want to keep it soft, but i did say there was slight angst in this! love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You were minding your own business walking back from the mess hall when you caught wind of the conversation.

It was a hushed thing, between two people right outside of the turn for the main street. Two women standing close to each other. You had been passing them by when your ears caught your nickname. And then your real one.

“Olive? What kind of grown woman willingly goes by such a silly nickname.” One quiet voice uttered.

“Tommy Miller gave it to her, on account of the trees in her backyard. Surprised she even knows what to do with them.” Another one, both of them faintly familiar. While Jackson was small, only a few hundred people, it was easy to recognize them. They were the ones you often heard while helping out with the gardens, offering trade with the owners as you all shared the spoils of your own personal ones tended to in backyards.

You knew you were intent on pulling your own weight to support and protect the town. Having been grateful for stumbling across the safe haven it provided all those years ago now. Partaking in the patrol rotation and helping out with anything around the town. You had made a life here, one that you had always wanted to try and salvage from the wreckage of the world.

But that didn’t stop people from being people. Rumors and gossip spreading as quickly as the virus that forced the world into small communities like this one. You just happened to be the star in the most recent bout, it seems.

“Yeah, but she does bring them to the markets and trade, so she’s not all that daft.”

“She’s going on the overnight patrol. With Joel Miller.” A whispered reveal, as if it was a death sentence, something that couldn’t be spoken at a regular volume lest it manifest into something.

“Hopefully she doesn’t get-“

“He’s so much more capable, they already saddle him with her for two of his mornings shifts.”

“And now they’re putting her with him for one of the most important ones, what are they thinking.”

“She’s a dear, truly, but she’s going to lose it. Just like she did all those years ago.”

“If she’s the only one that comes back…”

“Marsha, hush, you can’t speak that way. He’s capable enough for the both of them.”

Oh, they weren’t just talking about mundane stuff. They were talking about that. Your chest tightened as you realized they didn’t have any faith in your skills, in the risks you took every time you went beyond the gates to ensure their safety.

Turning back the way you came, not able to face walking past the two women huddled close together and talking so casually about the things that kept you up at night and made sleep hard to come by. You walked straight into a broad chest smelling far too familiar. Smelling like Joel. A grunt that sounded way too baritone and way too close sprung into the evening air at the contact much like your wheezing gasp.

“Woah there, sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Large hands skimmed over your back, arms encasing you, and making you feel a little light-headed, righting your balance as you began to waver from the sudden contact. Oh no, not that honeyed drawl, not that voice, not that tender nickname, not him, not now.

Your composure was already slipping, and you didn’t think you could hold on to what little you had left if he were to ask you if you were alright. The need, the want to answer his questions always winning out.

But you couldn’t, not this time.

“I-I’m fine, just forgot- something.”

“Hey.” And you stopped trying to step back. His hands came up from around your arms where he had grabbed you, cradling your face and tilting you to look at him. His features were softened, the wrinkles beside his eyes and in his forehead creased as he looked you over, making sure you were okay. But you weren’t and you didn’t want him to know. Spurred on by the sound of two voices that had caused all this rounding onto the street, you ignored the fluttering of your heart, the way your breath had caught in your throat, the way he had been touching you and fled.

“See you to-tomorrow!” You managed to squeak out as you stepped away from him, avoiding looking at him directly, his arms falling back to his sides. You weren’t sure if he was trying to catch your eyes, not raising them past his chest as you walked around him. His gaze was heavy on you, following you as you took off down the street in a roundabout way to get back to the streets lined with houses.

“Tommy, please.” Your voice was small, an imitation of what it normally sounded like, and Joel stopped in his tracks. He had a bag of things for Maria, for his brother that he had wanted to drop off before retiring for the night. He tried to quiet his breathing, standing as still as a statue in the back part of the hallway of their house, your voice carrying in from the open sliding door that led out to the sunroom.

He had just run into you down by the shops, or more accurately you had run into him. Literally. His mind had blanked at the feel of your body against his own, the soft press of you up against his chest, the feel of your warm breath fanning over the skin of his neck. And not for the first time, he thought of how well you would fit into him. How well his body could wrap around yours.

He had noticed that while around town you were hesitant to let anyone so much as clap a hand over your shoulder. Aside from the children, whose hands you gladly held with kind smiles and whose arms you welcomed around your shoulders with laughter. Tommy and Maria being the only ones he had witnessed you embracing in quick hugs.

He was always so careful with you, not allowing for direct contact to linger. It always made his heart thunder in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, the casual touching. You never shied away from him, from the skimming of his fingers against your own or the more recent indulgences he had given into with the touch of his hand or the touch of his lips to minor injuries. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it delighted him to see the way your lashes fluttered and the feel of your breath hitching. He was a man after all, and he was one who was a fool for the jittery feelings you stirred in him. Even if he worried for them at the same time.

“Olive, you can’t let their words get to you.” His brother’s voice was calm, assuring you of the worries you shared with the man.

“But they’re right, Tommy!” Your voice rose to the highest volume Joel had ever heard and then wavered to nothing. More hiccups and sniffling sounding through the door. A particularly harsh hiccup sounded, startling him as he realized you were crying. Chest tight, Joel couldn’t even picture it. The thought of tears running down your upset face steeled his heart. He clenched his hands tight over the handle of the bag in his grip as he heard the shuffle of movement. He couldn’t see through the glass for the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze.

Joel was turning on his heel as your sniffles grew into sobs, moving as quietly as he could back through the house. He set the bag atop the kitchen counter and closed the front door behind him as gently as he could to not garner your or his brother’s attention. He had already heard more than he had meant to, the sound of your distressed voice beckoning him to you as he felt the need to console you. To make whatever it was better.

He knew you had been acting off earlier, just moments ago. From your wild eyes to the way you had been so distracted, the stutter to your voice.

But you were a private person, indulging him in his silly, earnest questions while out on patrol. But this?

This was something you definitely would not someone overhearing, and he respected that. He knew all too well the things people kept to themselves, things that were never exposed to the light of day, spoke of in front of others. And he didn’t want to betray the trust you seemed to have in him by hiding behind a curtain while you fell apart in front of someone who already knew of your struggles and ghosts.

He only hoped that one day…you would feel safe enough and comfortable enough with him to help you shoulder their weight. Because he knew not every patrol went smoothly, how could they, when the whole point of them was to keep up with any possible threats.

Once back in his own home, he found Ellie fast asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the modest television and a sketchbook dangling from her fingers. He removed his boots and then his coat, catching a whiff of the scent of you on his clothing. Light, slightly floral, sweet. You must’ve been tending to the garden he knew you kept in your yard earlier that day. Or baking something like you were apt to do.

With a sigh, he turned off the movie and closed the sketchbook to set it atop the table in front of the couch before moving into the kitchen. The slice of pie you had given him the other day was somehow still in the container you had fumbled for. Ellie must’ve known it was from you because she hadn’t said anything or tried to steal it. Knowing Joel liked to enjoy the treats you shared with him in the evenings with a cup of coffee.

So, he did, as he sat in his work room and began to sketch out some simple designs. He would fill your whole kitchen with whatever you wanted if it meant he would never have to encounter your tears again.

“They- they said I’m going to get him killed, that I shouldn’t even be on the no-normal patrol rotation.”

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Tommy tried to console you, taking in the situation and your words a best he could. But you had rushed through them, explaining in bits and pieces. You were emotionally charged, worked up, and nearly trembling. You thought you had worked through this, at least enough to be okay on the day-to-day front. But those two women, Marsha and her friend, had taken you back to the wave of everything as if it had just happened.

You were scared. Because they were right, you were dangerous. There was the very real possibility that you could cause harm to Joel, and you didn’t even want to begin to entertain thoughts like that. He…he was good and you didn’t want to be the cause of the man’s downfall. A promise to his brother to fill a spot on patrol spiraling into the current situation and it hadn’t even happened yet. It was supposed to, first thing in the morning.

“No, it’s not, Tommy. Everyone in town thinks I’m going to get him killed. That I got Aiden killed.” The name was foreign falling from your lips after not speaking it for so long. It was something you hadn’t been able to do since that patrol so many years ago now. “I ca-can’t stomach the thought of him getting injured because of me, because I’m not good enough to protect him. He does so much more for this town, he’s important. He deserves someone alongside him that will be a help not a hindrance.”

“You listen to me, and you hear me,” Tommy’s voice was firm, wide eyes focused and mouth a thin line as he spoke to you. Soft undercurrents of assurance in his tone. And you knew what he was about to say. It was always the same thing, the same sentiment, reassurance that it hadn’t been your fault. It had just been the circumstances, the world operating as it tended to do now. Unfairly. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault that those people found you. You cover your tracks well, hey, you do, okay?”

“I had been so focused on him, I didn’t, Tommy I didn’t hear them come up on us. Not their horses, not their footsteps, I didn’t even hear the gunshot until he was falling over.” Footsteps on the wooden floor thudding as you pacing back and forth, arms crossed over your chest and shaking your head in the way that you did when the thoughts got too overwhelming.

“But it wasn’t your fault. It was a messy situation, they happen. Hey, honey, they happen even to the best of us.” Tommy reached for you, standing from the chair he had taken beside you when you arrived in a flurry. Ushering you to the sun room at the back of the first floor, furthest away from the main bedroom upstairs. Maria had been in bed all day, not feeling well and had finally found the peace of sleep after an early dinner. His arms were wrapping around you and you allowed him to pull you into his chest, face pressing into his sweater.

“I should’ve been looking! I should have been more aware…”

“Shh, it’s okay, the patrol is going to go okay.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head and felt your hands tangle in the front of his clothing. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You, ah, you…been okay?” Joel tried to break the uncharacteristically tense silence in an easy move, with a relatively harmless question. He had been up all night, wondering and worrying about this being the first longer route with you. Not that he didn’t trust in your skills and ability, but that he didn’t trust in the secrecy around why you didn’t do the longer routes. Of the things he overheard in his brother’s house just last night. Tommy had claimed that if he was to know, it had to come from you. That it wasn’t the younger man’s story to tell and Joel was trying to respect that.

And if that hadn’t sent alarm bells to rumble low in his mind, then your behavior this morning would’ve.

You hadn’t been at your house when he went to pick you up, the windows dark and the door locked. He had knocked, thinking maybe you had overslept. He had found you at the stables, cursing at the clasps of the saddle that weren’t cooperating with your ministrations to secure them. The way that you jumped when he cleared his throat and greeted you, wide eyes settling on him and body tense as if having expected someone else. Someone you had to protect yourself against, if the hand flying to your holstered gun was any indication.

Definitely concerning.

The sound of twin sets of hooves the only sound for the last fifteen miles or so. You had been content, or as well as could be considering the circumstances, beside him. Wide-brimmed hat drawn low to shadow over most of your face, body on a constant swivel as you took in the new to you surroundings. The landscape covered in autumnal tones. It was beautiful, the warm reds, oranges, and yellows of the changing trees. But it was also deadly, threats hidden within the lush tree line, just over the rolling hills, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

“Been okay.” Was your short answer, not feeling like you knew how to hold a causal conversation anymore. Not since seeing the man’s craft had cropped up in his brother’s home and the way in which he had denied your part in the idea. That paired with the anxiety of being so far out from the settlement wasn’t sitting well. “You been okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Just busy, you know?”

“You hardly ever take a moment, see you and hear talk of you bouncing around so much. Everyone must really appreciate you willing to help. The skills you have, they mean so much. They allow us a better chance to not just survive, but to live.” You wished he could see it, the way children would stare transfixed as him and Tommy led a team of people through creating things the way that they did. From foundations to frames, tiling roofs and securing windows into place. It meant growth, the ability to rebuild, it meant anticipation of the future beyond just a few days. And he helped to provide that for the settlement with the use of his hands and the skills comprised in his head.

He only hummed in response, as if he was disbelieving of the sentiment behind your words.

And then, of course:

“Is…is there a reason why you don’t do the overnight routes?” It was a cautious one, though you could hear the undertones of concerns that coated his polite curiosity. And undercurrent of worry in his beautiful eyes that had turned amber in the sunlight you caught sight of with a quick glance when he had continued to speak.

But his question was ill timed, everything too raw in you to indulge in it at the moment.

“Joel, that’s none of your business.” You felt the easy smile fade from your face as you turned away from the man. You ignored the inclination to face him, feeling the weight of his eyes watch the way you squared your shoulders. Searching for signs of something you weren’t quite sure of. You were always willing to chat with him, about everyday stuff and the heavier stuff should one of you need to vent or rant. Never talking about it back inside the walls and surrounded by the people you went out to protect. But this?

You couldn’t. It was too much, and you know your voice had turned hard, sharp.

“Shit, I’m sorry- we just, normally you’re okay with my questions. I didn’t mean to overstep a line.”

“Well, you did. Just drop it, okay?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I get it, just, stop please.” Snapping the reigns, you clicked your tongue to get Lowry to pick up the pace of her hooves. Moving ahead, following the path that was slowly coming back to you as the event you tried to block cropped up in your mind piece by piece.

“Okay.”

It was easy, comfortable to be beside him even in uncharted territory and land new to you after so many years. Because despite the rough start to the day, having reached the proverbial fork in the road that would take you farther from Jackson you had been in so long, it was easy to feel like things might just be okay with him mounted on his own horse ahead of you.

Even despite his rather invasive question.

You felt bad for snapping at him, for being too caught up in your own mind to enjoy the time beside him.

He was always so busy around town, but out here on patrol; he was yours.

His attention not being pulled in endless directions of so many who looked to him for help and advice, for his opinion on something or other. He was so willing to take the time and fix, mend, build, repair, anything that people called on him for. He had just been trying to do the same here, now. Ensuring you were okay. Because you knew your behavior wasn’t normal. You had jumped when seeing him this morning in the stables. You hadn’t taken the offered thermos, not wanting the caffeine to make you even more jittery paired with your anxiety and nervousness. And it was silly because you knew he meant well.

He couldn’t have known the question was a landmine.

He couldn’t have known it was the one, seemingly simple question that you were unable to answer him.

He had fallen quiet since you asked him to drop it. And you felt bad. There was tension about him, in his broad shoulders and the grip of his hands on the reigns in front of him. His legs shifting more than normal as the muscles tensed and relaxed in a pattern you couldn’t quite make out. You had bothered him, with your sharp words. And you worried that you had broken some part of what this was.

“Hey, Joel?”

A huff.

“Did you finish all the coffee?”

“No, got your thermos right here.” He patted the bag attached to the saddle. You couldn’t have known he meant that it was truly your thermos. Always nestled between his own and Ellie’s, in the cabinet, in the drying rack next to the sink. Yours, and not just while on patrols.

“May I please have it?” Nerves alight, you chanced a glance. He had to have been lost in his own head, his eyes coming back to the present slowly as he cast them toward you.

“Only because you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” He leaned down to retrieve it, holding it out to you. You were careful not to brush your fingers against his own. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t been too comfortable with the casual touching that seemed to have grown in occurrence, even if he had called on you and pressed his lips to your wounded head. Undeserving of the attention he had deigned to give you, you didn’t want him to think you were doing it on purpose. Trying to impinge on his personal space in such an intimate way.

“You-your from Texas, right?” Of course you were stuttering, nervous to interact with him, to try and bridge the divide you had caused. But you still tried, not wanting to lose the dynamic you two shared, even if you had been in your head. Even if you had no intention of physical contact, you still yearned for the easy conversations you two shared.

“Right.”

“Did you see a big change between the seasons?”

He seemed to deflate, the tension in his body ebbing just as the quick beat of your heart did as he turned to look at you for the first time in hours. Calming, reacting to each other, softening in the wake of what had happened.

The village was just as you remembered, as the horses came up on a hill looking over it. It was small, a collection of long abandoned houses and businesses on the cusp of the national park that once boasted large crowds and endless visitors who came to enjoy the views. The mountains surrounding it were breathtaking, covered in the changes of the season. Looking for all the world a quaint little getaway.

Another hour and you found yourself working silently beside Joel to clear the buildings, searching for anything that could be of use for the town, for its inhabitants.

Another hour and you found yourself stood in the kitchen of a small house, rustling through the cabinets in search of whatever may be hidden within them. With a delighted hum, your fingers wrapped around the soft casing of canvas and you pulled it out from within the depths of the one you had crouched down to inspect. Joel’s jacket hushed as he turned to you at the sound, his eyes watching, ever vigilant and ready to strike sound something be wrong.

But nothing was wrong, you leaned back on your heels as you pulled the object out into the light of your flashlight. It was a canvas pouch, rolled up and secured with leather straps that had seemed to stand the test of time and decay.

“Oh my gosh, Joel!” You looked up at him with a pleased grin, teeth flashing at him as you did so. Giddy with the discovery. You set it down over your thighs and unfastened the straps, rolling out the canvas to reveal beautifully crafted handles nestled into small, slim pockets. His steps were quiet as he moved closer, shining his own flashlight onto the find. With nimble fingers you shut your own off and tucked it into the internal pocket of your dark green jacket, pulling one of the handles carefully from where it rested to reveal a sheathed chef’s knife.

The sheath was a little worse for wear, the plastic cover faded and brittle, but when you removed it, the blade proved to be in pristine condition if a little dull.

“Joel, these knives are so beautiful.” Your words were practically a purr as you checked the others to find them nearly perfect. The whole set. Each blade crafted beautifully with a wavy design of darker metal inlaid into a lighter one, the blunt side fading from dark to light. “These are classic Japanese crafted, perfectly balanced. A bit dull, but with some care and a good sharpening block they would be as good as new.”

“Oh, so you didn’t just dabble in the kitchen then.”

“Hmm?”

“You were a chef, weren’t you?”

“Oh, um, yes. But that doesn’t mean much these days, so I tend to downplay it.” You stood, the pouch rolled back up and secured.

“You let me go on about jarred tomato sauce and cereal.”

“I meant it when I said those were balanced meals, I swear!”

“Uh-huh, sure you did. Entertainin’ me, is what you were doin’.” He was delighting in the friendly banter, no true hurt or dismay in his words if the upturn of his lips on one side was an indication. The smirk allowed for that endearing dimple to appear in the pocket of his right cheek, much like his brother’s.

“Joel, no offense, but hush. Food is food.” You tried to make it seem like you hadn’t meant any harm, because you hadn’t. Food was food, back then and even more so now. It was a way to survive, important and so scarce a necessity these days. The abundance of it within the settlement still something that amazed you. The ingenuity of people to create and cultivate agriculture as a base function of humanity and community.

“I’d bet my left arm you didn’t used to think like that. Back when we had the choice between organic and fresh to mass produced and cheap.”

“Hey! Junk food was important too! You know how many times I had a family sized bag of chips for dinner?”

“No, sweetheart, how many?”

“At least twice a week.” Flicking your hand with two fingers raised up, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprung up from your chest. Fighting the wide smile threatening to break out on your face at the faux shock he displayed with a hand to his chest and a roll of his eyes.

“Which ones?” His brown eyes glittered in the shine of his flashlight, following your movement toward your bag left atop the couch.

“I was rather fond of sour cream and cheddar.” You could practically taste the tang of the sour cream on your tongue as you made room in your pack for the pouch of knives.

“I was a salt and vinegar man, myself.”

You just pinned him with a teasing look, one eyebrow raised up in question.

“That’s just gross, Joel.”

“And there she is, the food critic I knew you were.”

“Go to sleep, mister judgement. I’ll take the first watch.” You stuck your tongue out at him, waving him away with your hands as you settled on the couch and leaned back into the dusty cushions. His chuckle was the only response as he retreated to the only room in the house, the bed springs creaking as he settled into an equally dusty mattress.

You were already back in the saddle on Lowry and moving when it happened. Joel was adjusting the saddle on his own horse and hadn’t heard the shuffle of the leaves. The tree line was just a few yards away. And a trio of infected had just breached the end of it.

“Joel! On your six!” You shouted, reaching for your shotgun slung over your back. Joel was reaching for his own laid out atop the saddle when the horse whinnied, kicking her front legs out at the infected. He reached for the reigns, quickly trying to console the amped up horse when he was knocked to the ground. Your shot missed, his horse freaking out too much and you worried for Joel on the ground.

Your own horse began to fidget, but you calmed her with soft whispers and a quick pat to her neck.

Rolling away to avoid being trampled on, one of the Infected left caught sight of him at the movement.

You were too busy leaning heavily to the left to get a good aim at the other two as they began to tear into the throat of his horse, cutting off the distressed cries of the creature. Heavy body thudding to the ground, you fired two headshots before searching for Joel. But he was blocked from your view by the downed creature.

Careening your body over the side of your own horse until you were practically hanging from the side of it with your feet secure in the stirrups, you used gravity to aid you in getting a clear view. Your middle burned with the effort as you tried to get vision of the man fighting against the Infected that had him pinned to the ground. When you did, your mouth went dry. The claws of the Infected had managed to rake down one of his cheeks, blood bright. Breathing in, you aimed and fired.

The shrieking of the figure fell silent, and its body went limp.

Grunting, Joel shoved it off of him and scrambled back away from it with a heaving chest. He looked over his shoulder toward you, his eyes nearly black from the adrenaline, his plush lips parted as he tried to get enough air in his lungs. Eyes frantically looking him over, you could see the split in his lip from the distance.

Slinging the shotgun back over your shoulder, you dismounted and rushed to his side. Your hands reached everywhere they could as you tried to sus out any more injuries. The intention to keep them to yourself short lived and fruitless. Joel was just staring at you, no words coming from him, only the sound of his panting breath as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your back when you fell? Kiana didn’t step on you or kick you, did she?”

The questions flowed from you in quick succession, not giving the man a chance to answer any of them as you twisted to take a kerchief from your back pocket and began to dab at his cheek as lightly as you could. He let out a low hiss as the skin throbbed, but he let you do it anyway.

“I’m okay,” He finally croaked, sitting up completely when a few tears spilled from your lash line. One of his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing them away. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you did good.”

Through your tears, you worked at getting the blood cleared from his cheek, moving to focus on his split lip and the drops of blood that had trailed down his chin. He let you, his hand falling from your own face to your shoulder, anchoring him close. When you managed to wipe away what you could you sighed, blinking the tears from your eyes as best you could.

His eyes were so soft when you looked into them, watching. Your breath stalled for the barest of moments as you wondered if he would wear the same open expression right before a kiss. Heat flooded your face as you realized you had dug your other hand into the soft curls at the back of his head to help keep him steady and his eyes dilated at the sound. Your sore body protested as you leaned in impossibly closer, chest brushing against his.

The long travel had magnified the scent of him, cedar and sweat dizzying this close to him and it made you want to bury yourself in his arms. To burrow into him and just stay there, enjoying in the warmth and safety you felt when around him.

His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle press of your lips to the scratch on his cheek, tension leaking out of his own sore muscles at the feel. Nose brushing against his own, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to press your other hand to his chest and press him back to the ground, to straddle his thighs and show him how much he was beginning to mean to you. But that would be far too forward.

Heartbeat tittering, your eyes roved over his face, gauging his reaction to the uncharacteristic display. His face was so handsome, the trimmed scruff dusting his cheeks a mix of silver and gray complimenting the tan of his weathered skin decorated with sparse freckles, a patch vaguely resembling a heart low near his chin. And you fleetingly pressed your lips to it, unable to resist. The muscle in his jaw twitched at the pressure, but he didn’t move otherwise, eyes still closed shut.

Despite the journey from the day before and an overnight stay in an abandoned building, you still smelled faintly of the woody, floral scent. It was stronger due to the tense situation of a few moments ago, lingering in the sweat you had felt bead up along the back of your neck and the small of your back.

He seemed to breathe it in, his inhale catching in his throat when you couldn’t help the temptation of pressing your lips to where his bottom one was split in a chaste kiss, caught up in mingling of your scents and the effect he was having on you being so close.

“There,” You breathed against him, fingers clenching around the curls in your grip, surprised he hadn’t jerked away from the rather inappropriate move. His eyes remained shut, as you leaned back to look over the entirety of his face. You felt a nervous flutter of warmth low in your middle, mirroring the words he had whispered to you in your kitchen just a few days ago. “All better.”

Your body was alight with the feel of his body behind you. His chest bumping into your back on every jaunt of Lowry moving over the terrain. You hadn’t been able to look directly at him, keeping your eyes downcast in embarrassment as you had helped him up from where he had fallen. Your hands small in his as you had done so, but immediately dropping the contact once he had been back up on his feet.

It had been silent for a long pause, no words coming from either of you as he gathered what he could from the saddle of the downed horse and you adjusted your own belongings to make room. Lowry had been rather worked up, deservedly so at seeing her friend and own patrol partner taken out in such a gruesome way. The beginning of the journey back to Jackson started off on foot, you on one side of her and Joel on the other, guiding her back at her own pace.

But somewhere after the first couple of hours, you had begun to drag your feet. The adrenaline of the morning waning and leaving you utterly exhausted. That’s how you found yourself seated in the front of the saddle on your horse, Joel’s firm body behind you. His height, even while seated, allowed for every other breath to rustle the hair atop your head. The wide brimmed hat you donned while on patrol hanging from the front of the saddle so as to not bump him or obstruct his vision.

But he kept his hands to himself, save for when he gripped your hips when the horse tipped your combine gravity on the errant downslope of the route.

“Get some rest,” Joel’s words were a haze as you twisted to wave a parting at him. Safely back within the walls of the settlement and having completed the patrol write up. The loss of a horse something you were sure wouldn’t be overlooked, even in light of how it happened. You could’ve saved her, but had been too slow to find aim. But the only thing on your mind right now was a warm bath to wash away the day and then the comfort of your bed.

“You too, Joel.” You turned back to face forward, feet carrying you slowly even if the desire to be unconscious was a strong pull to pick up the pace toward your home.

“Hey, Olive?” Hesitant, the sound of your nickname was in his voice.

“Yes?” You pivoted once more, taking in the way he was looking at you. Concern in his dark eyes and softening his features. The feel of his lips sparking through you as you lingered on them. But you pushed it down, knowing it was one-sided and would always be so. He didn’t see you like that, couldn’t see you like that with all the attention he got from around town. So many other people to entertain and you were just another.

“You can always talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll always listen to what you have to say.”

“Yeah,” The denial of you suggesting the cutting board washed over you, deflating you even more so in the late afternoon. “But I wouldn’t want everyone to think we do talk. Seemed pretty keen on hiding it from your brother the other day.”

“That- that wasn’t why I said it was my idea.” His jaw jumped, the muscle clenching and unclenching, his hands mimicking the motion at his sides. A heavy sigh deflated his own chest. “I was…embarrassed because it was the first one I made. It-it wasn’t very good.”

“Joel, everything you make is well done.” You assured even as you turned from him and walked away.

“I’m so glad you came back okay from that long patrol, Joel. We would’ve missed your amazing hands.”

Joel tried his best to tune the woman out, Marsha liked to ramble to him when he called on her to fix things in her house. She was about his age, an appropriate age. Headed the gardens and yearly plantings, helped out in the mess hall, and tried to help Tommy keep up with the holidays in order to make the town feel a little more comforted. But today, her words felt weird. Like a backhanded comment to something he intended to figure out. Because it felt like it was about you rather than just a well-meaning sentiment.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Joel tried to keep his voice even, tempered. But he could feel tingles of anxiety come to life in his chest.

“Oh, I’m just saying, everyone was rather shocked that you got stuck with Olive for Teton. She hasn’t been on anything other than her two morning routines in, gosh, such a long time n-“ He surged up from where he had been underneath the sink. The steady beading of water from the cracked pipe measuring the tense passage of time as he stood to his full height. The wrench in his hand pressed into his stomach as he placed his hands on his hip and looked directly at the woman who had been hovering over him as he worked. She had been idly peaking potatoes on the counter beside the sink, making sure to stick close to him like she tended to do when he was in her home.

But she had fallen quiet at the direct attention, a flush visible on the tips of her ears and the swell of her cheeks.

“Did you say ‘stuck with Olive’? Because I can assure you, she’s capable enough to not be talked about that way.” His brow furrowed as his lips tugged downward in a frown, unsure where this woman got the gall to sling around talk of you like this. To him, of all people. He wasn’t completely daft, he knew the women around town fawned over him. Both the younger ones like yourself and those closer to his own age and beyond. But he ignored it, because he wasn’t here for that, his heart didn’t soften for just anyone. And the woman in front of him was bad mouthing the one it had without him even realizing.

“I just meant that- since she’s so much younger and doesn’t have as much experience as you-“

“Hold on, lemme stop you right there.” Joel held out a hand, the wrench acting as a barrier between their bodies. “Olive is more than capable of being my partner on patrol. It don’t matter what her experience is compared to my own. And I don’t like the insinuation of her not being anything other than a hardworking person who willingly puts her life on the line for this town.”

“She just- there was an incident a while ago-“

“I don’t care what happened a while ago, she’s good to me now.” Anger flared, tinging his eyes into the deep, dark tone of fresh brewed coffee. His grip around the wrench was pulling the muscles in his hand, causing an ache that was becoming far too familiar a sensation. But he kept his focus on the woman in front of him, the one who had felt like it was okay to talk about you in such a way in his company, to him.

He was always polite, always lending an ear to what the people of the town wanted to say, allowing for easy conversation most of the time, but this was something he wouldn’t allow and the tone of his voice had shifted. It was assertive and left no room for interpretation that he didn’t share the sentiment of the woman in front of him. And then he thought back to the other night before the route in question.

Tommy had been consoling you, telling you to ignore the things people were saying about you, the rumors that had cropped up once your name had been added next to his on the assignment sheet. This woman had apparently been the cause of your tears, the fuel to your already present insecurities flaring and making you close in on yourself. This woman had taken the teasing jokes, sweet laughter, soft smiles, and easy-going conversation typical of time spent with you and stolen it from him. Tainted the air so badly that you had been decidedly not yourself on the last patrol and so wound up that you had snapped at him.

“She’s done nothing to deserve the way you’re speaking about her, and I would like you to apologize.”

“Joel, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.” Her eyes shifted frantically over his face, realizing that she had offended him with her casual words. “I was saying that-“

“Not to me, to her.” He cut off her words with rough ones of his own. Past the point of caring about being polite and heeding everything the town needed his help with at the moment. All he cared about right now was you, and how you had been singled out as the most recent subject of town gossip. He tried to tamp it and he had gotten fairly good at keeping his frustrations to himself. Ellie being the recipient when she was particularly stubborn and bull headed, but she got that from him too. From traveling with him for as long as it had taken them, their entire journey now allowing for them to explore the softer and kinder parts of themselves within the safety of the settlement.

But right now? Joel felt like he was back outside of them, the need to protect and eradicate any perceived threat strong. Thrumming in him as he felt like what was his was being singled out and targeted.

“But-“

“We clear?”

Marsha squeaked out an affirmative, her hands wringing around each other over her middle. Without a glance toward the open cupboards beneath the sink, Joel gathered his toolbox laid open beside them and his flashlight.

“Need a new pipe, nothing else I can do at the moment. Tommy will be by before nightfall with a replacement.”

He didn’t bid her goodbye as he walked through the front of her house and out the front door. Leaving the shell-shocked woman standing in her kitchen with her heart beating rapidly in her chest at his rather uncharacteristic display of anger.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

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#dev writes #fic: by the grit of sandpaper #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #jackson! joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #carpenter joel miller #artisan joel miller #woodworking joel miller #angst #pining #mutual pining #hurt and comfort #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #ao3 #archive of our own

[eternalsa2z]

DM In Your DMs

You were introduced by your friend Nally. After plenty of teasing and toying and asking if you were sure you were ready to meet this model. Not just excited. Like busting out of your seat and bra ready.

You insisted that you were and the Instagram reveal didn't disappoint. She goes by the name 'Doll Mistress' and she is H - O - T HOT HOT HOT. She looked like a queen in her full glory, her gaze admiring her many worshipers as she gives them a brief glance at her perfection.

She def had a bit of a 'rich bitch' or 'ice queen' vibe, which normally doesn't match your sweet girly vibes. Even if her look still made you melt into a puddle. But that doesn't mean she can't rock a bit of a girl next door look. You know, if that girl was an heiress at the next mansion over in the gated community.

Still you couldn't help but be obsessed by this look. Her pony was clearly a fake extension and her faux fur boots were a bit much. But then again that fit her vibes, doesn't it? As if she was saying:

"I'm pretty. I'm plastic. I don't care who knows. Worship me"

Gawd what you wouldn't give to worship in front of Doll Mistress. You'd die if she slipped into your DMs. Or at least you died and went to heaven. Because one day, late in your timezone and early in hers, she sent you a message.

"Hello Kiki. I heard you were a pretty cute bimbo doll who's been having some stupid bullies say mean things. Why don't you let Doll Mistress take care of them...then we can go on a date"

You of course, through your bimbo babbling in sheer fangirling, manage to explain that while you love the support, you are a committed bimbo. Her next DM makes it clear that she's simply chuckling at your cuteness.

"Oh I know. I'm not looking for a relationship. Just a doll to play with"

True to her word, the homophobes and patriarchy pushers slowly disappear from your site. You also notice a corresponding uptick in extra girly, submissive bimbos talking up how pretty you are. It's great because you need the pep talk ahead of your first date...er, totally platonic meeting.

You spend forever picking out your outfit. You need to look perfect. Make a good impression for Mistress. You end up looking cute - but she shows up looking stunning, showing up to your date dressed in feminine finery. Making baby boy blue look as good as girly pink.

She has a beautiful floral adornment right around her throat. Perhaps it's a metaphor for her tight grasp on femininity. Or perhaps a future indication of how soon her ice queen grip will extend to a beautiful bimbo flower like yourself. You squeeze your legs together during the whole meal, imagining the second scenario.

She has you in her clutches from that day on. You're obsessed with her beautiful face and hair. Envious of her fashionable clothes. Above all else, in awe of her attitude and how she rocks her look to the fullest.

The next time you meet in person, your Doll Mistress casually drags a fur coat behind her, like the expensive treasured item is nothing to her.

God what you wouldn't give to be that coat…dragged around behind her…following in her footsteps. She's so incredible. You can't even say anything intelligent, just "OMG!" over and over again as she arrives. Her plush lips curl into a smile, a rare sighting worth more than her entire wardrobe.

"I'm glad you like my look, Kiki. You could be seeing a lot more of it. Come with me. Be my doll."

It's three months later. You and your wife have moved in with Doll Mistress. She spoils and pampers your wife, slowly turning her into a little plastic trophy, a mini-version of herself. You, on the other hand, are her pretty little doll. The one she brings everywhere, even stowing you away in a custom dollbox in her luggage when she travels on vacation. It's worth it to spend time with her and relax at the Bimbo Resort.

"Kiki? Mistress is out of her glass of BMBO. Won't you be a doll and scurry over to the cabana to get me a refill?"

"Yes Mistress! Of course Mistress! Anything you want!" you squeal excitedly, eager to be helpful.

"Good girl. If you return fast enough, I'll let you lotion up my back again" she purrs.

Quickly you bound away as fast as your high heels, wiggling butt, and jiggling bimbo titties will let you. Mistress has been so generous in turning you into her little bimbo pet. Serving her drinks is the least you can do for her!

Plus…the enticing thought of being allowed to touch her perfect plastic body…that's all the payment a doll like you needs. Just a bimbo doll serving her Doll Mistress.

#bimboification #f2f transformation #bitchification #trophy wives #bimbo resort #bmbo

[likeabxrdinflight]

I want to talk more about the way the characters have been adapted for the live action adaptation, because character writing is the thing I care about the most and as a psychologist it's probably the aspect of any story that I'm most invested in. I can get around pretty much any plot contrivance or weird maguffin or even shitty pacing if the characters of a story are engaging enough. This is my bread and butter, so to speak.

And I want to start with Iroh, because I think he is by far the best adapted character from the original. But I suspect I think this for different reasons than other people might, because the beloved Saint Iroh from the animated show this man is not.

See the thing with animated Iroh is that he's just...a bit too perfect. We know he's been complicit in the war in the past. We know he laid siege to Ba Sing Se, we know he had a complicated past. But we never really see it, we only barely hear about it, and more often than not there are other aspects of Iroh's past that serve to further deify him. He was a general in the war, but then he goes on to protect the last dragons and learn the true meaning of firebending. He led a 600-day siege and lost his son but he came out of that experience Enlightened, having journeyed to and from the spirit world. He joins up with the White Lotus (at some point) and becomes the wise old sage we know and love.

Except most of that is revealed in later seasons and is inconsistent with his actions alongside Zuko in season one. Season one animated Iroh is kind of a passive character, largely existing for comic relief and as a support to Zuko. But there's very little to suggest he's disloyal to the Fire Nation or their cause. He says it himself- "I'm no traitor, Zhao!" Now you can certainly interpret that line in several different ways, but I suppose that's the point- there's a lot left up to interpretation with animated Iroh. We get a sense of who he is in relation to Zuko, but his own development largely happens off-screen. And because to Zuko he's a wise, caring uncle and mentor, that's largely how we, the audience, see Iroh. We love him because Zuko loves him. And that's fine for what it is, and clearly it was effective- Uncle Iroh is almost universally beloved. But it does leave a lot of questions about him up in the air.

Live action Iroh is a very different character. This Iroh is a deeply broken man who was been profoundly impacted by the war and what he has lost because of it. I do not get the sense that the loss of Lu Ten has led to any spiritual enlightenment for this Iroh- there's no indication that he can see spirits, for example, or that he has ever traveled to the spirit world himself (he does still oppose the killing the moon thing, though.)

Right out the gate, we get the sense that this Iroh has lost faith in what the Fire Nation is trying to achieve with the war. He explains to Aang fairly early on what the Fire Nation's goal and perspective is, and can rattle off this dogma quite easily. But when questioned by Aang if these beliefs are also his beliefs, he dodges them rather un-deftly. So you know immediately that this Iroh doesn't really support the war. Later you see him somewhat bluntly telling Zuko that the throne may not be all it's cracked up to be, and he's fairly openly critical of Ozai in other moments. So you know from the jump that Iroh's not really on Team Fire Nation.

And yet this is also not a truly repentant man. When he is captured in Omashu, Iroh gets another brief scene with Aang while they are both imprisoned there (this is before Aang meets with Bumi). And in this scene, Aang tries to convince Iroh to help Zuko stop being The Bad Guy. And Iroh defends Zuko to Aang and stresses the point that it is not Zuko who owes him any great debt, but he who owes Zuko. Later, when he is confronted (and hit several times) by an Earth Kingdom soldier who lost his brother during the siege, Iroh does not apologize. He does not flinch at the man's accusations, nor does he deny them. He defends himself, albeit weakly, by stating he was a soldier, and it was a war. He has the audacity to accuse this soldier (somewhat obliquely) of having been made dishonorable by the effects of war. It's kinda messed up, honestly.

But then this man accuses Iroh of knowing nothing of loss. He leaves the shot, and we saw Iroh's face just crumble, and the scene cuts directly to Lu Ten's funeral, where Zuko chooses to sit with his uncle and support him through what must have been the darkest moment of his life. Back in the present, it is only later, after Zuko has come to rescue Iroh, that he speaks more honestly to the Earth Kingdom soldier- he shows mercy and states that they've all "seen enough death."

So what we have here is an Iroh who is deeply disenchanted by the war and does not support it or the goals of the Fire Nation, but who has continued to stand alongside Zuko and support him in his goals. We have a man who doesn't necessarily regret his actions as a soldier in the war but who very much does regret what those actions have cost. We see a man who is profoundly impacted by loss and grief and has become emotionally reliant on his nephew as a source of support. Not that he's parentifying Zuko or anything, he's very much not, but he is rather obviously channeling all the love he once felt for his son into Zuko instead. Zuko is his lifeline, he needs Zuko and you get the sense that without him, Iroh would truly fall apart. I mean the man is on the verge of tears more often than not when Zuko is in even the slightest bit of danger in a way that animated Iroh was not.

This is what I think is different here. Animated Iroh seemed to turn against the war because it was morally wrong, it had thrown the world out of balance, and imperialism is bad. Live action Iroh seems against the war because it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth the cost, or the death, or the grief. He couldn't see that until he lost Lu Ten, but now he sees it everywhere. I get the sense that this Iroh just wants it all to stop, and I'm not sure he cares how that happens.

The White Lotus is definitely hinted at, but I suspect that was his motivation for joining it. It's not about restoring balance to the world for this Iroh. It's about restoring peace, so that he won't have to lose Zuko like he lost Lu Ten. So that the death and destruction stops. So he can just live a quiet life and put the past behind him.

It's a different take. And it's not that he doesn't still have a lot of wisdom to him, that he's not still a gentle, caring person. But he's a much sadder person, and he's lost that sense of "enlightenment" that his animated counterpart had. There's a selfishness you can read into to this version of his character that's much more apparent than the animated version.

I think a lot of people are gonna hate this, because it's a darker take on a much loved character. But I love it. This Iroh is human, this Iroh is flawed, and this Iroh has a lot more growing left to do. And that's awesome. If we get to actually see more of a character arc for him too, if we get to see him also growing and changing alongside Zuko? Please. It's not like he needs a total redemption arc, per se, but if in his journey with Zuko throughout the Earth Kingdom we can see Iroh gain some of his fortitude back, we can see when he decides he needs to push Zuko down a certain path, to take a side in the war, to see that it's not just the death and destruction that makes it wrong? God there's so much potential with that.

Now, maybe this isn't what will happen with seasons two and three. Maybe they'll back track and try to make him more similar to the animated version. I don't know. But for now? Live action Iroh is fantastic, and Paul Sun-Hyung Lee is giving a hell of a performance. He's warm and tender when he needs to be, fierce when he has to, and just profoundly sad throughout it all. And I love him so much more for that.

I'll be controversial here and say it. So far, live action Iroh is a better character than animated Iroh.

#I never disliked animated Iroh to be clear but perfect can be boring #this Iroh is not perfect and that is so much more interesting to me #natla spoilers #natla #iroh

[absolutebl]

These Weeks in BL - This Is Very Late, Or Right on Time depending on where you sit on the temporal debate team

Sorry I got distracted by work. In my defense: I was paid.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 1 & 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 12 fin - Unfortunately, there was singing. But what can we do?

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth, with no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up. Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it still stands. This is a great show, a solid adaptation, and a pleasing take on the original yaoi. I personally like it better than the Japanese live action, but I think that’s because I just really like Thai BL and I LOVE TayNew. I doubted them for this and I shouldn’t have. They did a great job, as did the sides. I will say all the kissing was both present and better than any other iteration. As it should be. Definitely one for the rewatch rotation. 9/10 

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 1 of 8 (10?) - Damn it, I love it. And I don't want to. It’s more classic BL than I thought it would be, and far less Only Friends or Playboyy. (Thank fuck.) We got a big cast and a lot of tropes going down out the gate, including SMITTEN popular hot guy versus nerd with secret identity. (Incidentally, Khem did drop into rude / informal when arguing with his Aunt and defending his ma. Bratty boy.) The leads have good chemistry (First always does), and everyone is very pretty. The main boy reminds me of J-Min's role (and look) in Love Class 2. I am entertained. (And faintly wonder why this isn't a MosBank vehicle.)

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) eps 1-3 of 8- High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite a decade later when both of them have full time jobs (celebrity & doctor). Dr Ji is a familiar face (hi Dream it's been a LONG time) and everyone is way too old for high school, but I guess I prefer this to child actors?

I'm enjoying it, actually, the cast may be older but they're solid as a result and the chemistry is on point for a pulp. Whether our celebrity is on the DL or cheating or something else remains to be seen but he sure is smitten. The way he LOOKS at Ji = hawt.

Frankly? Celebrity/doctor is a good pairing and this is a solid Thai BL. I hope we have a nice angsty reason for the break-up and we're not in another Promise situation. I like the sides too. Carry on, little show, I'm disposed to be pleased with you.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 12 - I am enjoying it, actually. It’s incredibly silly. But I don’t really mind. STOP SINGING. 

1000 Years Old eps 3-4 of 12 - I love that these kids basically adopted a vampire pet. And one of them accidentally got a vampire boyfriend. This suddenly turned from a PNR into a family drama about domestic gays opening a food stall and I'm not mad about it. Nothing makes sense and I don't care because... rainbow umbrella!

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV grey) eps 1 of 10 - I don’t love it. I make no bones about the fact that a pining uke rarely works for me, especially if he’s younger (cute supportive besties not withstanding), the power dynamic isn’t good. I always like Kimmon, he’s a stiff actor but v pretty. (I shallow af.) Still it’s time he started acting his age… literally. Having to watch ads again as well… for this? Ooof. I'm not sure I'm strong enough.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 fin - It was very cute. I liked that there was uke instigated kisses. However I have some reservations on this one, much as I enjoyed it.

Adapted from Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team included Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (Old Fashion Cupcake). Essentially Perfect Propose was about finding hope in a person when all other hope is gone. This show focuses on apathy, and perforce is somewhat apathetic and un-engaging especially as the pacing was off (and with only 6 episodes? now) However, this is countered by great visuals, good archetypes, and a clean story of childhood sweethearts reuniting after loosing their way in life. I landed on 8/10 mostly for a demanding younger seme and some great kisses. 

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube) eps 2-3 of 11 - Oh it’s great. I love it. I’m still worried by how gritty and "Taiwanese short-esk" it feels, but wow does this hit all my favorite taboo tropes and buttons. I also adore the little found fam, they the cutest gay older bros ever. The younger one who wants so bad to grow up and take care of the older one and pushes himself because into self sacrifice that’s the only model of love he has. ARGH. BOYS. Why so much pain, just smooch already! Sheesh. It's on YouTube for some of us, here's the schedule.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) eps 6-7 of 10 - They remain questionably cute, and that is probably going to be my ultimate review of this show. Awe cameo! (Hi babies, hope the ghosts are leaving you alone.) The irony does not escape me that the person in the relationship with the most emotional acumen is, in fact, the robot and not the human. I'm sure that's meant to be deep.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - A tortured second chance romance featuring a reported and a successful celebrity(?) academic. The kid actors look nothing like their adult counterparts, but they do look much younger. So, okay. Ah the utter embarrassment of first love. Oh I like it a lot, so very messy Japanese emo. Sigh. Here we go again.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 8-9 of 10 - They are a cute couple. They both trying so hard and so confused and awkward and polite in trying to understand each other but TERRIBLE at communication. 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - I don’t know how I feel about this. But I do know it’s not my thing because it’s not BL. I’ll finish it because it’s short but… meh. 

It's done, ready to binge, but I have no time

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) - I will try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will watch eventually.

It's airing but...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - finished it's run and I won't be watching it. It's horror with BL elements and the ending, well, let's just say that's a "no thank you" from me.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… no. I'm not watching this. I dislike this franchise.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Takumi-kun (2023) movie version AKA Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa released on FOD 3/5/2024. The original project was a 6 ep series. Having seen all the previous iterations and read the (terrible) yaoi I admit to being intrigued. If anyone finds eng subbed please let me know with a link in comments or in a DM? For those intersted in this show, probably the world's first true BL franchise I chat all about it here.

Gossip

James Supamongkon has withdrawn from the series Love Upon A Time and the NetJames pair is no more. Net Siraphop will continue with the historical BL project alongside a new partner. Can I interest you in Tod Techit... almost as pretty, legs for days...

The Complete Chronology of the Assault Case Against GMMTV Actor Win Pawin

I'm merely directing your attention to these articles, I do not wish for discussion of this content on this blog. Please don't ask for further info, I don't know the answer, follow the link that's why it's there.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Still Coming

3/21 Two Worlds (Thai IQIYI) 10 eps - announced here. One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames staring MaxNat. I'm over them but Asia flipping loves this trope and I do adore MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, 12 years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Thai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram apparently alive. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha (played by Gun Thanawat who is Khom the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night).

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

How flipping adorable is this vampire with his big gay umbrella? SUCH A DORK and we got more vampire dorks coming.

Thailand has found its vampire line and it's awkward and geeky and quite cheerful. 'Bout what we expected, to be fair. It's a good look for them.

And vampires.

In other news...

That's your random moment of thirst, Lim Jimin shirtless AKA my Just B bias (I mean, I could talk about how good his extensions are and how I love a husky voice in Kpop but really, just LOOK at him). I'm very very very shallow, remember? Full vid is here.

Why am I mentioning Lim Jimin (aside from the obvious)? If Just B doesn't break soon, I could some of them transitioning to BL. Jimin in particular would be a win for us, obvs.

Also, can we talk about Bain (my bias wrecker) KILLING it on Build Up? I had no idea he was that good. Anygay, this has been your Kpop end note.

Seriously tho, is ANYONE else watching Build-Up?

(Last week - well, 2 weeks ago)

Streaming services are listed how I'm (usually watching) which is with a USA based IP

The tag bragade: @doorajar

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will. Easy peesy.

#thai bl #cherry magic th #cherry magic thailand #cherry magic #cherry magic review #taynew #live action yaoi #thai adaptation #to be continued the series #city of stars #thai bl pulp #japanese bl #perfect propose #perfect propose review #AntiReset #taiwanese bl #unknown the series #Although I Love You and You #Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka #just b #kpop #Lim Jimin #1000 Years Old #To Be Continued

[amysgiantbees]

I just find it strange that the developers chose to rewrite Wyll. I love new Wyll I think he's fantastic and I don't necessarily want the previous version. But I find it bizarre that there was somehow so much negative feedback about old Wyll that they risked completely rewriting him.

Now I love all the companions. This is not Dragon Age Orgins where I debate recruiting Ogrun every time. But I just find it strange that the reason given was Wyll's negative feedback when most of the other characters have been unpopular too. Like Lae'zel is infamously unlikable to a great many people.

People love to bully Gale and there's even lines in game that call him pathetic. The DEV's in the IGN interview even agreed that Gale killing himself can be a good ending, " I really liked Gale setting off the bomb with the brain, and actually that felt like the right ending to me.

AS: In many ways it is, yeah." Which feels problematic to say the least, like I get supporting player choices but suicide is never the "right" way to do things.

Or even I'm pretty sure I remember Neil Newbon talking about how he was sure a lot of players had killed Astarion permanently in their playthroughs.

Then there are people being absolute freaks on the internet about Halsin all because he's polyamorous.

Like these characters are wildly popular too but they certainly have their haters. So why did they lack such confidence with Wyll? The best source I could find on early access Wyll is this article https://gamerant.com/baldurs-gate-3-wyll-early-access-story-change-karlach-explained/. It says that this change was made to make his story stronger, make him more unique, and give him more complicated emotional ties. Unless he was really basic before they did not accomplish this. He has less content so his story lacks the depth the other's do. It's also inconsistent, with you being able to put him off being a duke by telling him he'll be too power hungry which he has never been. His emotional ties are rushed. He never really confronts his father, having the tadpole do most of the work and never hashing out his feelings beyond that he's fine.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. According to the article he was meant to have a dark side like Shadowheart "According to the panel, depending on whether players allow him to go through with killing Karlach, he will become a radically different companion instead of if she is recruited." Which would have been cool but if they didn't have enough time to do that maybe they should have tweaked what they had.

Plus, according to the article in early access he was "a straightforward hero who develops a violent side regarding his patron or goblins." This article too show's that his early approval matches current Wyll pretty well except for dealing with Aunty Ethel and more goblin hate https://fextralife.com/baldurs-gate-3-early-access-companions-guide-wyll/.

I just don't know I just find it so frustrating that it was the black main character they chose to tweak and ran out of time to complete his story and still haven't fixed it with a patch. And in the IGN interview the devs kind of sounded like there wouldn't be anymore patches and it's just frustrating. Wyll deserves just as much content as any one else.

#dnd #bg3 #balders gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 wyll #wyll #wyll ravengard #myanalysis #larian pls #larian critical #larian why #bg3 meta

[bg3fan]

My own pet

My first try at yandere, I hope it's decent, but I had a lot of fun writing this as a warning I'd but kidnapping and a bit of violence in here if I missed something please let me know but I think it's mild yandere in general.

"So that's how mortals treat their hero of baldrus gate?"

Raphael snickers as he walks around your little home on the outskirt.

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the paper in front of you, hoping that he'd stop mocking you about every little thing that doesn't come from him.

"Please leave me alone, Raphael. I'm content with what I have." You say annoyed.

But Raphael wouldn't be the devil you know if he'd just leave you alone.

Even before defeading the elder brain, his constant unannounced visits and scolding, pushed you to ultimately sign his contract.

Humming, he walks up behind you, putting his warm hands on your shoulders. His thumbs draw little circles, immediately soothing your tense muscles.

"Those peasants don't know your value. They shoved you in this claustopic place, forcing you to even work for them. Have they no shame?"

His hands suddenly hardend their grip and you fear that he might actually hurt you.

"But me, little mouse," his hands relax as one of them slide up to your jaw, and the other one wraps around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, "I'd treat you like the most priced treasure I own."

It's not the first time, the devil proclaimed that he'd like to have you as his little trophy by his side while he rules over the nine hells.

You can't help but feel hypnotic by his rich voice. Promising you a life with no hard work, a life where he'd give you everything you desired, a life where you could devote yourself to all of your hobbies which he would support and the only thing you need to do is be his little pet.

But there's a little voice in the back of your head, warning you not to get close to him. He is a devil. Even if he wants to be good, he'll hurt you one way or another, and these days, he's been visiting you more often, trying to make you ultimately submit to him.

Swallowing, you put your hands on his, squeezing them as you try to form a complete sentence but to no avail.

He lets go of you, steps back and turns your chair around so abruptly that you let out a little squeak to which he chuckles, obviously enjoying it.

You frown at him, gripping your armchair to steady yourself, the papers scattered on the floor.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't need you, and I never will. I'm happy with my life now." You don't want to give him the satisfaction, so you try to stay calm.

Raphaels expression is challenging and sly, he steps between your legs to look down on you which makes him seem so much larger than he actually is, even in his human form.

Putting both of his hands on your cheeks as he bends down towards your face, "Why don´t you come in my house of hope? I can give you everything you desire. What more must I offer for you to be by my side?" he whispers against your face, his eyes stare directly into yours.

Even though you defeaded the elder brain, broke the shadow curse and fought against the three chosen ones, you don´t doubt that Raphael wouldn´t be able to kill or even torture you, especially with the crown in his hands.

Again, you find yourself unable to form a proper sentence to which you try to squirm out of his grasp, afraid that he´ll lock you up just like he did with Hope.

From all the letters you've read in his house you can assume that she was in the same position as you are right now.

Your breath goes uncontrolled and you feel panic spreading inside your body, you´re suddenly aware that you´re all alone, no friends, no weapons and no armor.

You liked your time alone as you are more of an introvert, but you failed to sense the vulnerability that comes with it.

His borad shoulders blocking the view behind him, making it impossible to think of an escape plan.

The devil in disgues seems to notice your fear, and he can´t help but fuel it by showing his true form, chuckling as you try to push him away.

"GO AWAY!" You scream and try to scratch his face. He shoves you away when you manage to cut his cheek, and you knock over with the chair and hit your head hard.

Even though you feel dizzy, you try to get away from him and crawl away from him as your body is sent into a flight or fight mode.

As you reach the window, you hear a scoff and feel Raphael yanking you away from the door towards him by your ankle.

He pulls you under him, keeping you pinned against the floor while you scream for help, regretting the choice of rejecting Wyll's offer to stay with him and help him around the gate.

A hand stiffles your noise, and fat ugly tears roll down your cheeks and his hand. You're kicking and hitting, only hurting yourself against the hard wooden floor.

Raphael is tsking at your behavious, "How pathetic you are, I guess I can understand why they shoved you here in this hole, all alone with no one on your side" his hand on your back presses you down as if he wants to break your spine in half, his tail holding your legs together.

The warmth is unbearable and it feels like his hands are burning your skin. He snaps his fingers and suddenly you find yourself in his house of hope.

Finding yourself in an unfamiliar room, and as he lets go of you, he walks up the stairs to his throne. You turn around and sit up to see him up there with his legs spread, looking down on you "Don´t worry now, I´ll take care of you, and make sure that you're safe." he flashes you a wide grin.

You clutch at your shirt, trying to think of a way to inform your friends or a way to escape, but before you could even calm down, there are three debtors coming your way.

Immediately you try to run away but two tackle you down as you try to fight them off and you even manage to knock one out but it´s been too long since you´ve been doing anything physically and it shows because the other one holds your hands behind your back as the third one puts a collar around your neck.

Raphael´s laugh booms through his throne hall as the one carries you back only to throw you in front of the devil´s booted feet.

"If I were you, I wouldn´t try to leave this house or try to take it off. It´ll only hurt, little mouse." his voice sickly sweet.

Propping yourself on your fours, not accepting the fact that he would do something like this to you. But the second you try to remove the collar an unbearbale pain shoots through your body, as if thousand of nails are being pierced through your body and you can´t help but let a high-pitched scream out.

But the adrenaline in your body allows you to try again even if the pain is unbearable. He sits there relishing in your screams and counts the seconds when you will give up.

You fall to your side, letting your tears fall on the floor. Raphael shifts his head to the side, expecting more defiance from you, a bit disappointed that you gave up this fast.

You only stop because you feel yourself slipping out of consciousness. Looking up at the tall ceiling, you try to stay awake as your body tries to cope with the pain while you taste your own blood on your tongue.

Raphael allows you a moment to ground yourself again, even though he enjoys your suffering he doesn´t want you to kill yourself so quickly.

"Come here, pet," he orders after some time as he pets his thigh, signalling you that he wants you on his lap, and to his wonder, you still have the guts to deny him by turning your head away from him.

Suddenly, he pulls on an invisible leash and yanks your lying body towards him, and before your head hits the stairs, you lift yourself up on your fours.

He stops and raises his eyebrows questioningly, and you have to bite down on your tongue and swallow your pride as you slowly make your way to his lap.

As you lower yourself on his lap, he brings out a tissue to wipe your face clean, and you let him, too exhausted to fight the pain again.

He doesn´t recognize you. You who once stood tall and fought all sorts of monsters are now shaking and sobbing in this frail body. The thought making him smile because it was all his doing.

He puts his arm around your waist as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder. "I think you´ve punished yourself enough for scratching my cheek, dont you think?" You don´t answer. Instead, you try to grasp the fact that Raphael managed to trap you like this while catching your breath.

"There, there," he pets your head, "it´s OK now, I´ve got you," he coos in this sweet voice of his, "I´ll take care of you, little mouse" his wing comes over to cover you like a blanket.

You can´t help the way his warmth makes you sleepy and sluggish in his arms, and as your eyes close, you hear him promising to keep you for eternity.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #bg3 #raphael #bg3fan #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #yandere raphael

[ruexarchive]

"Do me a favour and never talk to her again, Got it?"

Possessive! Draken x gn! reader

Rating: 16+

summary: it only started when I guy took an interest in you, but Draken wasn't taking that shit...

warnings: fluff + cussing + sexual implications

"I'm telling you, girl, Kaito has been staring at you all week. You have to talk to him!" A good friend of mine, Kuki, we were walking towards the school gates. Finally living the hell we called school. Though I had told her I had a boyfriend she still wouldn't believe me because I never showed her a picture let alone said what his name was. But he was a very private person and he was a gang member. "come on you know I have a boyfriend, and I'm not interested." "yeah you keep saying that but I'm starting to think he doesn't exist.." "hey, y/n can we talk for a bit?" "holy crap!" Kaito scared the living shit out of me, I wasn't expecting him to jump out from behind me. "oh sorry for scaring you beautiful" "ohh shit he called you beautiful, his definitely into you" Kuki whispered in my ear But I wasn't focused on what she was saying, I was trying to find my voice and reply to him. "um no it's okay. what did you want to talk to me about?" Kaito led me away from Kuki to a more secluded area. "I was wondering if you wanted to watch this new movie that came out a few days ago on Saturday?" He was staring right at me. "oh, I'm not sure if-" I couldn't finish my sentence when I spotted my boyfriend. Shit what was he doing here, I told him to wait outside if he was going to pick me up. "hey baby, I've been waiting for what feels like hours." he walked right beside me and kissed me on my cheek. "oh sorry, I hadn't realised it'd been that long." I chuckled trying to ignore Kaito staring daggers into me. "And you are?" Kaito turned to Draken feeling a bit threatened by the dragon tattoo on the side of his head. He ignored him and leaned into my ear and whispered "who's this?" "He's in one of my classes" I whispered back to him "We're gonna be late for the meeting, we should go." This time he wasn't whispering. Kaito was getting visibly irritated by the fact he decided to ignore him completely. Ken grabbed my hand, leading me towards the parking lot "Hey wait!" kaito yelled as we walked away "Yeah?" I turned my head around to face him. "Saturday?" kaito looked pretty desperate "she can't she's busy. Do me a favour and never talk to her again, Got it?" He didn't even bother to turn to Kaito just kept walking his hand interlocked with mine. I had already turned my head away from Kaito by then.

"he has some nerve talking to you, much less asking you out on a date." Draken looked pretty pissed yet he had a huge smirk on his face, staring down at me. "what's that smirk for huh?" "wanna go to a motel after the meeting?" I knew exactly what he was implying but I decided to play dumb, it was much more fun that way. "I don't understand why do you wanna go to a motel?" He didn't even answer me, just gave me a look I wouldn't make out. I didn't say anything so I just turned to him and kissed him on the cheek But he grabbed my face and kissed me hard on the lips. His so fucking demanding... But fuck I love him. He grinned and signalled me to get onto his bike. I held onto him by the shoulders. He made a clicking noise with his tongue which showed a sign of disapproval, so I moved my hands down to his waist. He was holding back a little smile, trying to keep his tough persona.

Author's notes:

I just wanted to say thank you so much for the support on my latest posts.

#draken x you #draken x reader #draken x y/n #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #tokyo revengers #tr imagines #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev headcanons #draken