#she is such a huge part of why he is the way he is (affectionate) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling.

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.

Liam folds.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”

“You should’ve thought of that before.”

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”

“You can’t leave, where would you go?”

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.

And it seemed like you were no exception.

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”

“God, yes.”

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You sink to your knees immediately after that.

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”

“Get on with it then.”

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”

“Is this pussy mine?”

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.

“I think he left, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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beatrixpotteriamnot · 3 months ago

Text

Filthy rich. Part three

PAIRINGS: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/N: Basically, they are filthy rich, and Rafe is completely devoted to her.

Deuxmoi

liked by GossipGurllzz, and TopperT 8,322 others

Deuxmoi: Influencer Y/N Cameron has been spotted getting her nails done near her home on the Outer Banks. This is the first time since Bethany Johnson levied the allegations that she has been seen in public. Bethany Johnson, Y/N Cameron's former best friend, alleged that her husband had been having a long-term affair with Y/N. This had allegedly been going on for nearly five years. The former friends would often holiday together alongside their business mogul husbands and would post this to their many Instagram followers. But this all stopped 5 months ago, and now perhaps we know why. More information in our bio.

view 6,219 comments

user1: They always seem so in love?

User2: No way! what a bitch Y/N is

User3: Absolutely no way Y/N cheated, they are so solid.

Deuxmoi

liked by User1, and TopperT 9,972 others

Deuxmoi: Influencer Y/N Cameron and husband Rafe Cameron have been spotted getting dinner in the Outer Banks. They were holding hands and being clearly affectionate, according to bystanders. The pair appear to be putting on a strong front despite the media frenzy around their marriage and Y/N's alleged affair.

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user1: I hope they can work through this

TopperT: you need to seriously leave them alone. I've known Y/N for over 10 years, and she absolutely did not do this.

Rafe Cameron and yourusername

liked by TopperT, and SarCam 22,032 others

Rafe Cameron and yourusername: Our family is strong and always will be. The allegations are categorically untrue. We hope we can share more in the future, but for now, we shall be pursuing legal action.

view 3,936 comments

user1: I hope you guys can get through this!

yourusername: 💗

TopperT: much love

RafeCameron: Thank you, brother

KelceJ: Stay strong guys!

User3: Omg he broke his silence User2: and he's on their side, this is huge

Taglist: @cooper8224 @daddyrafeslittleslut @diasnohibng

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron blurb #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron smau

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bosinclairsgff · 11 months ago

Note

Could you write Bubba, Otis & Baby with a stoner s/on who gets super affectionate when smoking, preferably afab or gender neutral :3

I love your account <33

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Albert Shaw and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Mention of kidnap, Otis being Otis and cussing I think that’s all…

Thanks for requesting! Hope you enjoy this!

- Bubba loves when you smoke. He knows you guys are going to cuddle or you’ll play with his hair. I think he feels so safe and comfortable while you’re high. Maybe he also feels like he doesn’t have to hide himself as much? You know what I mean, like he understands you’re in an altered state of mind. Maybe not even remembering everything that happens while you smoke. Once you’ve hit that high you immediately cling to him. Holding his hand, laying on him or anything you can think of. He’d be nervous at first, not understanding what’s going on. But once you explain the best you can he’s all giddy about the attention.

- He’s high as fuck with you. You smoke…he smokes. Maybe he’s the one who go you into smoking? At first it annoyed him, how clingy you got. “Damn bitch can’t keep yer fucking hands off me.” He says cruelly. Some part of him cares for you though so he’d let you hold onto him as he works. Now that could mean you’re sitting under his desk cuddling his legs. Or you’re sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. Might end up with you being bent over his work table being absolutely fucked till you can’t walk. Who knows though.

- Baby is super affectionate towards you all the time. So she loves it when you get high. She knows that means a cuddling session is in her future. Begging you to play with her hair as she watches whatever movie is playing on the tv. “Aww sugar look at you.” She’d say giggling while you wrap your arms around her. Baby just loves you so much, in her sick way of loving that is.

- Al lets you out of the basement for a rare occasion. You see Max’s stash of weed laying out on the table. You can’t help yourself, you might die tomorrow why not get high one last time? At first he’s livid but you make it up to him by showering him with love. He’d be so uncomfortable at first just sitting up straight staring at you. You start rubbing his arm all while you have a huge stupid smile spread across your face. Slowly you build up confidence. By the end your in his lap cussing with him. He’s satisfied but you guys will be playing naughty girl later.

- Bo’s poison of choice is alcohol. He doesn’t care for weed. BUT he loves when you get high. He’ll use this as a way to get into your pants. After a long round of rough sex you’re clinging to him like there’s no tomorrow. Drawing stars on his chest with your finger tip. Cuddling as close as you can to him. You need him.

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temptingfatetakingnames · 2 years ago

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Dancing in the Dark Part 2

Part 1

Time was moving slowly and Eddie wanted to smash his head on the table. Women kept coming over to talk to Steve. They brought him drinks (that he politely refused), they eyed him up and down, they complimented him, they touched him. On the shoulder, shyly on his knees, they leaned into his space and smiled brightly at him. They all asked him to sing again. Please, please sing again. You were amazing, they said with their breathy, feminine voices. Eddie wanted to scratch their pretty smiles off their stupid pretty faces. Steve shook them all off with a smile and Eddie was honestly a little surprised that he wasn’t soaking up the attention more.

Nancy and Johnathan were on stage singing a Sonny and Cher duet that probably would have sounded a lot better a few beers ago. It was late though, and most of the crowd was drunk and having a good time, singing along with them. The latest woman to strike out with Steve slinked away after leaving a napkin with her phone number on it.

“I’m gunna get some air,” Steve said, getting up from the table. Eddie watched him make his way through the crowd until he couldn’t see him anymore. When he turned back around, he saw Robin staring at him, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused.

She jerked her head in the direction Steve went. “You should go after him.”

“Should I?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, go see if he’s okay,” she said slurring her words a little.

“Shouldn’t you go see if he’s okay? Miss Best Friend?”

Robin pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Miss Best Friend says you need to go,” she said and then gave him the most uncoordinated wink Eddie had ever seen his life. He looked through the crowd towards the door that Steve had disappeared out of. He knocked his knuckles on the table and stood. Robin gave him two thumbs up and a huge grin that he couldn’t help but snort at.

He made his way through the room, gently nudging people out of his way. When he got to the door he took a deep breath, pushed it open and stepped outside. Steve was leaning up against the side of the bar with a cigarette hanging loosely in his fingers. He was looking up at the sky, deep in thought, a small frown hovering on his lips. He looked beautiful and sad and Eddie felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

How had he missed it?

How fucking sad he looked sometimes?

“Hey man,” Eddie said as he walked over.

Steve looked at him and Eddie watched in real time as a mask came down over his face. He tilted his head to the side and a little half smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

It almost reached his eyes.

Almost.

If Eddie wasn’t looking closer now, he would have been fooled by it. It was well practiced, automatic, near perfect…and Eddie’s heart clenched again.

“Munson,” Steve said with a warm affectionate voice that Eddie didn’t feel he deserved. He held out his cigarette between two fingers and Eddie took it.

They traded it back and forth, quietly smoking.

“You should sing more often, you’re not as terrible as I was expecting you to be.”

“High praise coming from you,” Steve said and nudged Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

“Why don’t you?”

Steve shrugged and took another drag of the cigarette before answering. “I used to… with my mom. She loves Springsteen.”

It both was and wasn’t an answer. No parents. Big house. Eddie wondered when they stopped singing together. The silence stretched between them. Eddie fiddled with his rings, turning them around and around his fingers. He didn’t know how to talk about things like this – the big things. How do you ask your friend why he doesn’t sing with his mother anymore? How do you ask him why he sang Springsteen tonight if it hurt him?

“I was wondering what Robin was going to say earlier – what else you’ve been up to?” Eddie asked, choosing an easier question.

“Oh.” Steve seemed surprised. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Well, I figured out that I really want to work with kids. For my job? But I really screwed myself over with my grades so I’ve been talking to Hop about what I can do. He’s going to write me a reference letter and see if he can help get me into college next year. In the meantime, I’ve been volunteering at the public school. Basically, a camp counselor for an after-school program. I – I really like it. The kids are great. I’ve been teaching them basketball and swimming. There’s this one girl, Ashley – she’s so shy, but so sweet! Took me weeks just to get a smile out of her, but a couple days ago she hugged me and gave me cookies that she made with her mom –” Steve cut himself off before muttering, “sorry, I’m rambling…”

Another adorable blush started creeping over his cheekbones. Eddie couldn’t think of a time that Steve had talked so much at once. He usually just listened when they all got together, chiming in every now and then with a comment but never talking a whole lot. But then he tried to think about the last time he or the kids had asked him a question about what he was doing or thinking and – he couldn’t.

“It sounds great, man!” Eddie said around the lump in his throat. “Tell me more.”

Steve smiled. A real one this time, small and shy.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Eddie nodded… and Steve talked.

He had been volunteering since the spring. It was mostly younger kids whose parents weren’t home when school got out. Steve said that the program was pretty bare-bones and that the other counselors just let the kids do whatever they wanted in the school playground or gym but didn’t really plan any activities. Steve changed that by introducing sports and trips to the pool and lake as the weather warmed up.

The kids genuinely seemed to like him which surprised him but didn’t surprise Eddie at all. He told him more about Ashley. Her mom was on her own; her husband had passed away a few years ago. Steve didn’t say she was his favourite but Eddie could tell that she was. Something about how shy she was at the start and how she was slowly opening up to him really affected him. As he spoke, his smile got wider and he talked with his hands more and Eddie was captivated. He nodded along and let Steve talk for as long as he wanted, only asking the occasional follow-up question.

“I’m going to see if there’s a program I can volunteer with in the summer, too.”

“I’m sure there is,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve ducked his head to hide his face. After a moment, he looked up through his hair and said, “thanks.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For asking,” Steve said. “For listening.”

“I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

“How could you ask about something you didn’t know about?”

“I should have asked about you,” Eddie said quietly.

For a moment the mask slipped off Steve’s face and Eddie saw the same dark emotion in his eyes that he had seen earlier. But just as quickly it was gone – hidden behind his confident self-assured attitude and a smirk on his lips. Eddie was starting to see it for the armor it was.

“I’m not that interesting,” Steve said and leaned back against the wall of the bar, lifting his face up to the night sky. The words were regurgitated – someone had said them to him enough times that he had internalized them, consumed them until he thought they came from his own mind. Eddie had a lot of experience with that. There was a lot that they had in common, Eddie was realizing.

“I don’t want this to sound condescending or weird… or whatever, but –” Eddie paused and cleared his throat before continuing, “can I give you a hug?”

Steve looked over at him with surprise and opened his mouth, probably to say ‘no’ or ‘what the hell, Munson?’ but Eddie turned to him, arms spread wide and he closed it. The moment stretched and Eddie didn’t think he was going to hug him. He was just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face – probably trying to determine Eddie’s sincerity so he held his eyes, stepped a little closer and opened his arms wider.

Hug me, Big Boy.

Steve closed the distance between them slowly, like he thought Eddie might change his mind if he moved too quickly. He smiled at him gently and Steve sagged forward, resting his head on his shoulder. He let out a sigh when Eddie brought his arms up and held him tightly. After a moment, Steve gripped him back just as hard.

Now that the hug was initiated, Eddie had no idea what to do. Rub his back? Try to get him to talk? He had never been good with his own feelings, let alone someone else’s. But Steve was his friend… and he was hurting.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked as gently as he could.

Steve immediately tensed up but didn’t pull away. Eddie rubbed small circles into his back and looked at the sky. The stars shone brilliantly in the night; he could see why Steve kept looking up at them. They held on to each other silently. Steve was still tense in his arms, despite the circles, and Eddie was convinced that he wasn’t going to answer. Which was fine, maybe a quiet hug was what he needed. The circles didn’t seem to be helping so he stopped. He brought one of his hands up to Steve’s neck and slipped his fingers into the hair at his nape. It was soft. Steve shuddered at the motion and went limp in his arms.

“No,” he whispered.

“No,” he forced out and Eddie could tell from his voice that he was fighting back tears.

“No,” he sobbed and clutched at Eddie with desperation. His body shaking as the tears overwhelmed him.

Eddie made soft shushing noises and rocked them gently, his fingers still tangled in his hair. Tears pricked at his own eyes in the face of Steve’s turmoil. He wished they were somewhere else; somewhere warm and quiet where he could bundle Steve up and keep the world from hurting him… keep the world from hurting him more.

He felt small in his arms… fragile. Which was crazy because Steve was a protector. He had saved the world. He had saved Eddie – had dragged him out of hell despite his own injuries. But who protected him? Who asked him how he was doing? What he was feeling? Eddie was desperate to know why he sang Dancing in the Dark. When Robin forced him up on stage with whatever secret he didn’t want the rest of them to know he could have done any song he wanted. He chose Dancing in the Dark – and then sang the most heartbreaking version Edde had ever heard. Steve had put everything he was feeling into it; had practically screamed at them to see him.

“Talk to me, Steve,” he prodded softly. “Tell me anything, everything. I want to hear it. Talk to me, please.”

Sniffles and shaky breaths, but strong arms still clutched Eddie tightly.

“I – I don’t sleep…” Steve said so quietly Eddie had to strain to hear the words. “Everyone keeps saying it’s over but it doesn’t feel over. It’s been over before…and even when I do manage it, I have these awful dreams. Robin stays over when she can, and it helps… but she’s leaving and I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. And the kids are getting older and they don’t need me anymore. And I finally have a goal, something I want to do but what if I fucked myself over in high school and I end up stuck at Family Video forever? I don’t know what I’m doing Eddie, and I can’t sleep.”

Eddie was once again struck by how much they had in common. Nightmares and the fear that the Upside Down could come back at any moment? Check. Unfulfilled dreams and the fear of falling into an average boring life? Check. He didn’t know how to tell Steve that he understood, that he saw him. There was a song that came to mind, one of his favourites by Dio that always helped him when he felt lost and alone. Talking about feelings was hard, but singing? Eddie could do that. He could do that for Steve.

He started singing Rainbow in the Dark quietly, giving Steve something to lean into, to listen for. He softened it, like Steve had with Dancing in the Dark, turning it into a companion piece – a continuation, a parallel.

When there's lightning You know it always brings me down 'Cause it's free and I see that it's me Who's lost and never found

I cry out for magic I feel it dancing in the light It was cold, lost my hold To the shadows of the night

No sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark A rainbow in the dark

Do your demons, do they ever let you go? When you try to do they hide deep inside? Is it someone that you know?

There's no sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark Just a rainbow in the dark

Steve’s tears had stopped as Eddie sang. They were holding each other lighter now, softly standing close. Steve had leaned back so he could see Eddie’s face as he sang.

“It is over, Steve… truly over. We won and Vecna is dead. I know that won’t stop the nightmares – it hasn’t for me. Not yet. But it will eventually, when it keeps being over. I’ll come over when Robin is gone. We can help each other sleep, yeah? And the kids are always going to need you – maybe not in the ‘demon slaying, use my body as a shield’ way – but in the older brother who loves them way. I think you’re interesting, Steve. I think…” Eddie paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “I think you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. I want to know everything about you. I want to know why your mother stopped singing with you and why your house is always empty. I want to know why you sang Springsteen tonight. I want to know why you got so good at hiding what you’re really thinking and feeling. I want to know your favourite colour and your favourite food. I want to know about your dreams and your nightmares…I want to know it all.”

“Why?” Steve whispered.

He was close enough that Eddie could see the green flecks in his eyes. His face was blotchy and red from crying and his hair was a mess from Eddie’s fingers, and he had never looked more beautiful. They still had their arms around each other but they weren’t hugging anymore – it was more a loose embrace, and Eddie was viscerally aware of the difference. Steve wasn’t pulling away though, was holding his eyes like they held the secrets to the universe. It made him feel brave.

“Because I like you and I want to know you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiled brightly, warming Eddie with the glow. He looked down at the hand that Eddie had on his waist and grabbed it. And just like that Steve was holding his hand, and smiling at him and Eddie didn’t know what to do with the feelings fluttering in his chest. He thought he might be having a heart attack.

“I like you too, Eddie Munson.”

He was definitely having a heart attack. Eddie squeezed his hand and then moved forward a bit so he could rest his forehead on Steve’s. He huffed out a small laugh, unable to comprehend how they had got here.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get our friends and take them home, then I’m going to come over and we’re going to sleep and in the morning we’ll talk more. Sound good, sweetheart?” The term of endearment popped out of his mouth and Eddie blushed furiously.

But Steve smiled and said, “Sounds good, Eddie.”

Final Part

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I really wasn't planning on writing a part two of this ficlet so I didn't have a plan when I started. I hope you like it as much as the first part, it turned out much sadder than I thought it was going to. It's funny to me that even though Steve sang Dancing and Eddie sang Rainbow I think the songs work better the other way? Steve is the Rainbow and Eddie is Dancing - I guess that's why they sang them to each other <3

@newtstabber @warlordess @tillystealeaves @imfinereallyy @heartsong18 @saltyseagoat83 @aceofwands @djohawke @th30ra3k3n @lazy-duck @surreal-honeypot @awkwardgravity1 @yoriposts @alycatavatar @tearsonthemoon222 @roastingdragon @mightbeasleep @helpimstuckposting @goblintendencies

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Steve Harrington can sing #Dancing in the dark #Open mic night #steve x eddie

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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

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Pillow Fort—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Daryl was nowhere to be found during the day. Everyone was worried, considering the man never missed meetings, no matter how unimportant they were. However, your worries got soothed when you saw what he had been up to that day.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (bridge explosion doesn't happen.)

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 860.

A/n: Here's this. I don't know what this is but it's something. Hope y'all like it!

“I'll see you tomorrow for a check-up, Michonne.” You slung your bag over your shoulder as you addressed your newly pregnant friend, Michonne standing on the porch of her home with Rick by her side. “I think Siddiq's brining an ultrasound machine with him from the Hilltop. That would give us a relative idea of how far along you are.”

Michonne gave you a smile as she tenderly rubbed her flat stomach—that wouldn't stay flat for long—with one hand, her other hand tightly holding on to her husband's. “Thank you.” She stopped momentarily to share a look with Rick, before continuing. “Keep us updated once you find out why Daryl hasn't been seen all day?”

You nodded. “Of course.” You took a step back and sent them another smile. “Goodnight, guys. See you tomorrow.” With parting greetings, you turned around and made your way to your own home. The short walk soon came to an end when you walked up the steps and into your home, and instantly you could see something was up. The small chair that stood by the door was devoid of any cushioning, the pillows taken and not to be seen anywhere.

You frowned as you discarded of your bag by placing it on the floor, your jacket and shoes following suite. As you walked further into the home and into the living room, you could hear the voices of your husband and daughter fill the air, laughter soon being heard as well. As the living room came into view, you were met by quite the sight—seemingly every pillow and blanket you owned was being used to hold a rather impressive pillow fort upright. And sitting in the very fort in question was your husband and daughter, cuddled up together while Daryl was busy reading some book to her. A fond smile spread across your lips at the sight. Unwillingly, a small chuckle left you, catching your small family's attention.

Your three year old daughter perked up when she saw you, a huge smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Mama!” She excitedly exclaimed, but made no effort to run into your arms like she usually would, way too content in her father's arms. You couldn't blame her, though. Daryl was the best person to cuddle and you rarely wanted to leave his hold yourself.

You smiled and stepped forward. “Hi, baby.” Your eyes drifted to Daryl, meeting his fond gaze. “Hey, Dar. You two mind if I come in?” Hazel shook her head, scooting over in the makeshift bed to make room for you. You crawled into space and got comfortable beside Hazel, wrapping an arm around her and sharing a smile with Daryl. “I didn't mean to interrupt storytime. Please, continue.”

Daryl nodded and shifted his attention back down to the book. “As ya wish.” He cleared his throat and started reading again, his deep, soothing voice successfully lulling your daughter into slumber. In seemingly no time at all, Hazel was out like a light, leaving you and Daryl to yourselves. He placed the book down next to him and turned his attention back to you. “How was yer day, Peach?”

“Not as eventful as yours, I'm guessing,” you giggled, rubbing Hazel's head affectionately. “Is this what you've been up to all day?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Made 'er some breakfast this mornin' and she took great interest in makin' lil' forts with the small pillows. Decided to show her how to make the real deal.”

“Boring meetings be damned, right?”

Realization dawned on the archer's face, a look of guilt spreading across his face. “Shit, I forgot 'bout tha'. I promised Rick I'd be there and I got distracted. Fuck, I—”

“Babe, relax,” you chuckled, reaching over to grab one of his hands in yours. “Rick isn't mad. He was just worried because it isn't like you to miss a meeting. I bet he'll understand you wanting to spend the day with your daughter instead of discussing who stole Jeremy's tomatoes from his garden. It's okay. Besides.” You stopped to regard the fort for a moment, nodding in approval. “Once he sees this fort, I bet he'll be hella impressed. It's amazing craftsmanship, if I do say so myself.”

Daryl gave you a small smile. “Think Rick'll be jealous?”

You nodded. “Once he sees this, a fort-off is sure to commence.” You leaned over to share a soft, tender kiss with Daryl, pulling away soon after as to not disturb your little girl. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, Darlin'.”

Little did either of you know, not only would a fort-off begin, but the greatest gift-finding, playset-building competition would commence between the two found brothers. And you and Michonne didn't know whether to find it amusing or annoying.

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crescenthistory · 3 months ago

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tying up loose ends

pairing: maysilee donner x fem!reader

synopsis: maysilee strategically observes all of her fellow tributes, but one in particular has caught her eye – one that haymitch has proved unsuccessful in recruiting to the newcomers. maybe maysilee can help change that?

wc: 2.3k

cw: fem!reader, no use of y/n, maysilee pov (which includes affectionate haymitch bashing), hunger games typical themes, non-established relationship, yearning, flirtatious alliance, district 8!reader, brief maysilee missing her sister

note: this fic is genuinley just for lil old me because why haven't i been able to find even one fic for my girl? took matters into my own hands

part two; and put a bow on it

Maysilee sat on the bleachers, surrounded by the sweet youngins that had flocked to her, a tidal wave of emotions flooding through her. She chose to hone in on the smugness at having managed to befriend so many of her fellow tributes by doing what she did best – analysing opportunities and crafting something beautiful with the potential she’s presented with.

It was easier to focus on feeling chuffed at having defied Haymitch’s expectations of her than to have to sit with the weighing tragedy that this might be the last act of kindness these children are shown before their slaughter. It makes her put a little more care into every plaited string.

If only Merrilee could see me now. All our younger siblings.

Yet, she had never been one to sit still and look pretty. While her hands moved expertly and her lips moved on instinct – “we’ll all be matchy-matchy in the arena” – her eyes followed Haymitch.

He was on a mission to reel in the remaining undecided tributes, and Maysilee was scrutinising his approach. Around her, the youngins from Six, Seven and most of Eight were chattering, but there was one member of the latter unaccounted for.

She let her gaze trail ahead on Haymitch’s path, landing on the last District 8 tribute. The one she had not heard say a single word.

You stood on the opposite end of the tribute centre, flipping your way through a survival kit of some sorts that Maysilee could not quite make out at the distance. She could, however, see how your brows furrowed together when you focussed, fingertips tracing the table as you tried to memorise what you learned.

Her eyes tracked the movement.

To be frank, she had noticed you from the very start.

Most of the tributes were quiet to begin with, folding in on themselves, overwhelmed and scared. Not you. No, you were silent, not quiet. Wyatt hadn’t understood what she meant when she commented on it, but there was a huge difference to Maysilee.

You carried yourself in a way that demanded attention, keeping your mouth shut defiantly, not protectively. Your gaze never wavered, and neither did your energy. You met the Peacekeepers’ eyes every single time, chin held up high, and did the same to any tribute who paid too much attention to you.

Suffice to say, Maysilee’s eyes had caught yours many a time.

Now she observed how Haymitch walked up to you, putting on that sweet, uniting front of his. It made her want to scoff, all the while ignoring a blooming fraternal affection for his dramatics. It wouldn’t benefit her in the long run.

“Uhm, Maysilee? I don’t really know if mine is good for anything, but, uh, I was wondering–” Despite her preoccupations, Maysilee instantly lifted her gaze to Velo holding out a small bolt she had brought from home, presumably from one of her parents’ workplaces. Maysilee tried to make a point of remembering each of their names; faces weren’t enough for her.

“Everything’s good for something,” she replied breezily, unwinding some of the reinforced rope she had nabbed from one of the booths. “Just have to make the connection.”

Velo dared to smile a little, but cowered in on herself, as if trying to tuck the smile away from sight, lest it be taken or chastised. Maysilee reached out a perfectly manicured finger and lifted her chin.

“Chin up, always. Especially in the Games.”

The younger girl’s eyes widened as she nodded. Maysilee asked about the background of the bolt as she began to weave and plait, but in the corner of her eye she was trying to get a status update on Haymitch’s attempts with you.

Only to find you standing solitary again at your table, with Haymitch trailing back to the bleachers, metaphorical tail between his legs.

Sucker.

She engaged the increasingly brave kids around her as she finished fixing Velo’s bolt into the centerpiece of a thick – and stylish, might she add, at least by the Games’ measures – bracelet, waiting for Haymitch to appear.

She didn’t even look up at him as she said, “Struck out?”

Haymitch sat down on the step below her, turning his head over to smile and wave at the District 6 tributes before looking over at her with a less enthusiastic expression. “She’s unmovable.”

“Sounds like you shouldn’t be moving her, then.” Maysilee tied a perfect knot on the end of the bracelet and began to weave the end in, so that it wouldn’t come loose.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t make her move. Ask her to come. Show her another option.”

Haymitch deadpanned at her. “You really think I didn’t ask her, Miss Donner?”

She ignored him for a second as she turned to Velo, beckoning for her hand. Elegantly, she slipped the bracelet on, ensuring it fit. The grin she was given in return reassured her that it did.

“Thank you!” Velo breathed out, mesmerised.

“Don’t mention it.” Maysilee smiled at her but dropped it for Haymitch, raising an eyebrow. “Asking isn’t always asking, Mister Abernathy. You really ought to take a class in sophistication.”

He slid down where he sat, leaning his head on the step above, making Wellie give him a curious look over Velo’s shoulder. He sighed, as if he was terribly, awfully pained and only one of Lenore Dove’s ballads could help him.

“You try then, if you’re so much more sophisticated.” It was him partly admitting defeat, which Maysilee enjoyed.

She stood up, all but walking over him to descend the bleachers. “That’s not an if, Haymitch. Try not to ruin anything while I’m gone.”

Maysilee strutted away, before she risked him beginning to actually sing one of the aforementioned ballads that she could practically hear rolling out of his ears. Though, even just three steps away, none of her attention remained on Haymitch, nor her little crafting buddies.

No, she had a girl in her field of vision.

You had abandoned your former booth in favour of moving on to the knot-tying table – if that wasn’t some divine timing on Maysilee’s part, she wouldn’t know what was. Though, unlike earlier where she noticed your little focussed furrow, it was more than evident that your attention was now split.

Whether that was because you noticed Maysilee’s approach and found her walk equally as fascinating as she found your stature, she couldn’t quite tell. Unfortunately, it was probably just a weariness left behind by Haymitch making you watch your back.

You were forced to notice her at last as Maysilee neared the table, putting one finger on it and letting it drag across the surface as she slid up beside you. As she turned her head sideways to meet your eye, her thin braid fell out from behind her ear.

Your eye went straight to the braid, fixating it for a second before you trailed your gaze up to meet her eyes. Maysilee so wished she could decipher the look that swirled in your irises, but all she really knew was how her stomach was flipping at the prolonged eye contact.

She didn’t think you would speak. It was clear you didn’t waste your breath on anything to do with the games.

“Didn’t expect you to need any more practice with tying knots, Twelve.”

Well, Maysilee be damned. Her lips parted slightly at the sound of your voice, wanting to taste the acoustic waves as they enveloped her.

You lifted your eyebrow and glanced at her sideways before shifting your focus back to the sturdy rope in your hands and the catalogue laid before you.

Guess any pretense is up. Maysilee didn’t mind that much, turning her body fully sideways to lean against the table and watch you work. “I don’t. I’m here to weave in loose ends more than anything else.”

You hummed non-committedly. “By roping me into your little club?”

“By not dying before I’ve talked to the only person that has caught my attention here.” Or anywhere, she mentally added.

Never call Maysilee Donner timid.

The sound that escaped you wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was eerily similar enough for her breath to hitch. “Well, that’s an awfully intriguing tactic. Planning on killing your fellow tributes with compliments?”

“No, that’s what we have knives for.” She watched as you tied and untied the rope, always getting it a little wrong. You wouldn’t stop before you had it down perfectly. “Though, I’m hoping to use them as little as possible, you know. That’s why we’re doing the whole alliance thing.”

Your hands stilled a little at that and you spared her another quick glance. “I wish you the best of luck with that strategy.”

“What do you put in the word 'strategy'?” Maysilee asked then, before she could think of it. “Is it how to survive?”

You didn’t answer that at first – she couldn’t tell it was from a lack of desire to answer or not understanding the question. She continued. “One of my mentors, Mags, asked us on our first day what we wanted in the Games. She said that survival is the obvious answer, but far from the only one. It made me rethink how I approached everything, both the centre and the Games. What’s your strategy for?”

She could see your posture changing, softening a little as you tightened the knot. It was perfect. “I don’t want my last experience in this world to be someone breaking a promise to me. If I’m stabbed by your knife, I want the only thing to pierce my skin to be the metal. Not betrayal.”

Maysilee let out a soft breath at that. She took a small step closer to you. “I get that,” she said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “From what I’ve seen from the Newcomers, that is unlikely, but I get the wish. It’s a burning one. But have you looked at us over there?”

She looked over at the bleachers where tributes from various districts were leaning on each other’s shoulders, laughing and smiling. It was subdued but significant. She turned back to you to see your gaze fixated on the same spot. “To put your faith in allies opens you to the risk of betrayal. But it guarantees you companionship towards the end. I, for one, would rather die for a community than cling to the hope of surviving alone.”

You let out a soft huff, one that neither seemed to disagree or agree with her. “I didn’t take you for such a poet, Twelve. Sorry for underestimating you.”

Maysilee smiled and dared nudge her shoe against yours gently. “My name is Maysilee. I already know yours.”

“I knew yours too,” you admit, almost a bit abashedly. “Resorting to Twelve was easier, though.”

“Nothing here is easy.”

At that you properly turned your head to look at her. It made the corner of her lip curl up to have your attention, to claim it all by herself. You put the rope down and brazed your hands on the table. “Do you think you will survive, Maysilee?”

It was a question she hadn’t expected. She didn’t know if it was a test or a curiosity, but she felt compelled to answer honestly. “No. I would be a terrible victor.”

That saw the corner of your own lips threatening to mirror hers. “I think that’s the best kind of victor there is, don’t you?”

“One they don’t want, that’s for sure. Anything they don't want pleases me. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you will survive?”

You picked the rope back up and handed it to her, your hand between you like an open invitation. “I know I won’t.” The sparkle in your eye didn’t match the horror of your words.

“Then we could always not survive together. Be just as terrible tributes as we would be victors.” She put her hand on the extended rope, but cradled it as she wrapped her fingers around your hand beneath.

An odd warmth spread through her chest as you accepted her touch, your eyes flickering all over her face, analysing. “If what you wanted to do before you died is talk to me, then I guess we’re both ready.”

Maysilee read between her lines and found her smile automatically widened before she could think better of it. She squeezed your hand and took the rope from you at last.

“Care to talk to me a bit more while I show you a couple of knots that aren’t in that catalogue? Just to make us both extra ready?” The look she shot you as she turned to face the table was nothing short of flirtatious. Though, perhaps mostly fond.

“I suppose that wouldn’t kill me,” you mused, the aloof tone in your voice beautifully transparently put on. “I hear you’re supposed to keep your allies happy.”

Maysilee was grateful to be sophisticated enough not to celebrate her little achievement right there and then. She took her time teaching you three knots you both knew you certainly would have no use for in the arena, relishing in hearing the rarity that is your voice as she learned just how deeply her intrigue for you went.

When she briefly glanced up towards the bleachers, she saw Haymitch giving her a small gesture that clearly read “how on earth did you do that?” She had to hold back a snort as she only winked at him before turning her attention back on you.

It sure helps when your motivations run deeper than an alliance.

part two; and put a bow on it

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denial-permanente · 1 year ago

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I love your page and that the two of you share so much of your lifestyle on here. I’m not sure if this is a statement or a question. I’ve read your answers about realistic feeling of this strap on you have and the technique of warming it up first. I just can’t wrap my head around your preference for it compared to the real thing. There has to be some give and take here like, it doesn’t feel as good but Tom’s technique with it is better than the real thing? Something along those lines. Stamina maybe? Either way thank you both for sharing so freely and so often!

😅 Oh boy, this is a hard one for some people... both women and men... to understand.

A lot of, women say that they don't like the feel of dildos, that they are unnatural, or they feel off, or they're too cold, or they just don't like the idea. I was kind of like that myself, and honestly I never even thought about using them with my husband. He was... very satisfying in bed and I honestly didn't feel the need to bring anything else in.

So, when my husband discovered the Vixskin company, he researched them carefully and bought a model that had a size and shape that was very close to his own. There was something about the feel of it that felt more normal to me. It wasn't quite him, but it felt okay and it was attached to him... so it was him close to me, his smell, his muscles, his arms holding me. I decided that I could live with it.

But here is the important part. After a while his wearing it began to feel totally normal. Just like having him locked all the time felt totally normal. I loved him being horny and affectionate all the time, I loved having all the control over our love life, and I loved how passionate he was making love to me while wearing the Tex.

When I missed feeling him come inside me I would unlock him... but those times became less and less often. We often went for months at a time without me wanting to unlock him... which meant that his wearing the Tex felt more and more natural to me.

Eventually he figured out the trick of warming it up before we made love, and that made things go from feeling natural to feeling... better. Like, I don't know why he didn't think of it sooner, it's so simple. But because I could feel the heat inside me it made our lovemaking more intense.

And now here the part that you men always ask about: unless your wife is a porn star, do not assume that she really wants a foot long monster inside her.

After 4 years of using only the Tex my husband asked if I wanted to try something bigger. While I honestly did not feel the need to I went along out of curiosity. We ended up with the Ranger X for several reasons. One is that it was supposed to have been made with a different process that made it more lifelike. Another is that when looking at the dimensions it was only a little bit bigger... maybe an inch longer and a half inch thicker. But when we first opened the package that little bit bigger on the website looked huge!

I have written before about what it was like getting used to it. But to the point of the question, I found that it made my husband feel the same to me but different... and in a good way.

Remember... when we make love I am feeling my husband holding me close, whispering in my ear, his weight on top of me, his hot cage pressing into my ass. All of those things are him... how he feels and smells and sounds. And because he is totally focused on me, he moves the way I want him to move to give me pleasure depending on my mood.

I guess what you were looking for was for me to say "I love the Ranger, but I miss my husband because..." except that there really isn't anything because I don't think of it that way. I do not think of him as wearing a strapon... I just think of it as doing what was very natural for us... just with something that feels even better than the Tex.

#chastity question #foxing

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thewalrusespublicist · 7 months ago

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Hi! What are your thoughts on Paul's relationship Jane Asher? It seems very not affectionate, and even that Paul didn't care about it at all, Jane a little bit more than him but also not really? So a PR relationship? But if yes, why? It's pretty bizarre to me when I look at it . What do you think?

Hi anon!,

I think there’s a bit of a misconception about their relationship that lingers because neither of them have talked about it and it ended terribly (iconic break-up though Jane just amazing). Linda's illness meant that Jane was also airbrushed from MYFN out of respect for her (Peter Cox keeping a copy of Jane's cookbook to pull out and set Linda off about her own autobiography is both worrying and hilarious). All of that makes it seem like she was a blip.

The reality was that Paul and Jane were sweethearts who were deeply loving and affectionate. There's been a lot of really good compilation of quotes and lovely images which I'll link here and here. In short though, Paul lived with the Asher's for years, took time to spend on just her, alludes to missing her on Sgt Pepper and were remarked on as being a lovely couple by people like Ray Connolly, Cynthia and Patrick Stewart weirdly. I can't remember where I saw it but there was this article after Paul was with Linda where he's says something like 'Jane and I are still in love with each other like you are with exes but hey ho!' (I remember it clearly because it was a huge WHAT moment, please if anyone has it I'd be so grateful.) When they split Paul spent weeks crying on Alistair Taylor's shoulder about how he'd lost his 'closest friend', the one he told everything to and he could be himself around. Jane loved him for him and showed him a whole new world and scene. She was a huge part of his life, to the point he dedicated part of 'Eye of the Storm' decades later to her.

So if they were this big love story, why did they split? Well aside from the tinnnyy little cheating issue, they just weren't suited at that life-stage. They met when she was 17 and he'd just turned 21 and broke up when she was 22 and he was 26. People change a lot as they get older and suddenly life plans get in the way. Jane didn’t want children then and wanted her own career whilst Paul is one of the most instinctively paternal, baby-crazy men I’ve ever heard of and had at the time a view of a ‘traditional’ wife that stayed at home with the children. Those two alone are deal-breakers for any relationship. In the Hunter Davies bio it seems they are trying to work the career thing out but there is no way on gods green earth that Paul would give up on the prospect of children.

Then there were the other problems. According to Ray Connolly, Jane didn't like Paul’s drug taking, the affairs, his preoccupation with the Beatles and that he seemed closer to John than her and prioritised their relationship over her (💀). Jane quite fairly wanted to be number one and Paul did try to prioritise her with weeks alone after India in Scotland. However at the end of the day Paul was too enmeshed with the Beatles and especially John to give her that starring position.

So yeah, Jane played a really important part in Paul's life in the 60s, they had a deep and cherished relationship but ultimately they wanted different things and really no one could come between Paul and John ... except themselves.

(Also ngl if you wrote 'we can work it out' about me I would have throttled you Jane has some patience goood god.)

#the situation with jane actually kind of lends some weight to the idea that John and Paul's relationship was incompatible #with developing a deep relationship with a spouse #as they were each other's number one #justice for Jane Asher from the songs alone Paul sounds intolerable #I don't care he's serenading you from your window at midnight #beat him with the guitar #the beatles #submarine postbox #ask #paul #Jane #ask me anything

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00nox00 · 8 days ago

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Would it be okay to have an NSFW alphabet of Captain

I've been asked to do this for a while, but I haven't been very creative enough to do it. I'm not very motivated tonight either, but I'll do my best. I hope you enjoy it. ♡

NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS!! ✖️✖️

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A- aftercare: The captain will be much more affectionate, hugging and kissing MC. If the protagonist doesn't fall asleep, the captain will take her to take a bath or fetch water, whichever MC prefers.

B- Bareback: He completely refuses to use a condom, he wants to feel every part of you, to have your walls squeeze his entire cock and the condom just gets in the way.

C- Cock ring: He uses the rings to maintain his erection, so that Mc can have fun and use his penis until he gets tired.

D- domination: One thing he likes is watching you tease and play with him during sex. Seeing you on top of him makes you look really beautiful with that mocking smile. Do whatever you want to him, he won't put up any resistance.

E- Edging: He likes to delay your orgasm, or for you to delay his. Make him beg for release!

F- fetish: He has a huge blood fetish, loves when MC is on her period, and finds her mood swings adorable. He'll make you feel better by licking your entire crotch.

G- G-spot: Once he finds your g-spot he will hit it several times until you cum again and again.

H- Hair: He grabs your hair every time you suck his tits or his fat cock.

I- Impact Play: Hitting him makes him hard even if it was an accidental hit. If you're stressed because you had a bad day, he'll gladly let you hit him.

J- Jizz: He doesn't like to see his sperm wasted, it all has to be inside MC.

K- Knife play: There isn't much to explain here, he just likes to see you cut him with the knife every time he misbehaves.

L- Licking: loves watching you choke on his huge cock and the vibration you cause every time you moan with it in your mouth.

M- masturbation: When it's a tiring day, both of them masturbate each other.

N- Nipple torture: That you lick, press and suck his nipples excites him a lot, he has sensitive nipples.

O- orgasm: Every time she has an orgasm she bites Mc, and if she weren't there he would end up biting his own hand.

P- photographs: When C-99 has missions far away and can't take MC with him, he makes sure to send her pictures of his erect penis.

Q- Queening: When MC sits on his face, it drives him crazy, he'll serve you whenever you want.

R- role play: Once I tried this with MC, I ended up loving this method, no matter what role he plays, he will try to do his best to satisfy you.

S- safe word: He would make sure they have a safe word since he knows that sometimes he is a little rough when he is in need.

T- ties: When you tie him up he loves to see your face, he knows perfectly well that you are eager to play with his body.

U- Uniform fetish: He knows he looks great in the uniform, he also knows that MC loves it, which is why he sometimes doesn't take it off to have sex.

V- voyeur: He often likes to watch MC masturbate, which he also takes as an exercise in self-control.

W- whipper: Yes, that's right, the captain enjoys the pain that MC causes him (only physical pain, not emotional pain).

X- X-dresser: This was mostly out of curiosity about how you would react. The captain ends up dressing in a maid outfit (he saw it on the internet and everyone seemed to like it). If you like it, he'll do it more often.

Y- Yearning: He simply loves and yearns for MC, every part of her, in fact, he is completely devoted to MC.

Z- Zygote fetish: He likes to fantasize about getting you pregnant every time you have sex.

#art #drawing #oc #original character #stalker yandere #visual novel #yandere stories #stalker bf #stalker x reader #yandere #smut #novela visual #renpy visual novel #your boyfriend game #yandere game #yandere obsession #your boyfriend #yandere scenarios

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unrav3l · 3 months ago

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okay so. my take on Majima/Goromi/the gender queer subtext of his character.

i've met with an opinion that 80's Goromi wouldn't take place because Majima's use of drag is simply comedic and provocative. i do agree that if he wanted to pull off a drag perfomrance or even simply crossdress he could do it without making it look as campy as the Goromi we meet does. however.

i'm sure as hell that there are a lot of interpretations around Majima's sexuality and gender, i personally see him just as a queer person, open to any interpretations BUT the trans aspect is growing on me A LOT. when i say trans i dont mean full ftm/mtf transition as tbh i dont really care (yet. give me some time i'll get to it) if he's an amab or afab im looking more to the gender queer aspect of the character, the man we are given on screen.

Majima has a lot of connections to both feminity and transness. his connections to womanhood being often reflected in the way he has to put on constant act and role to please others or all the times he was forced into submission. Majima learns a lot how to manipulate others handing them the leash but still being the one to lead. it's also something that i think women tend to do - giving men the feeling of power when they're actually the ones to control the situation. he's relationships with girls in Sunshine shows that he often judges the relationship between women and men from the outer perspective, like he doesn't really consider himself in any of the sides (but i guess it also depends on the answers the player chooses). of course there's also the Hannya motive, the embodient of unfiltred female rage he has carved onto his skin. he sympathizes with women a lot more than he does with men and we see that a lot.

possible take on his transness comes from the complete isolation and all the facades he puts on. a huge part of Majima's character is the way he creates his image through his body. i've spoken before about the snakeskin jacket being possible active choice to immedietly let others know he's one wild bastard but we also know that the jacket is a symbol of the mad dog, the perfectly created dehumanising persona. he let's other see what he wants them to see, he doesn't really expresses himself. we see in PYIH that he's not fond of the unnecessarily scary image and "manly man" others take him for. he's funky, he's both rough and gentle, he's queer. in this very game we can see how his body language shifted, how the way he walks changed when he's put out of that hyper manly society. goro's steps are less wide, he sways a bit, his entire walk, whole movement is more smooth.

so like. we see that it is somewhere inside of him and only when he doesn't remember he's been hiding it it actually shows. therefore what if Goromi is actually mockery of his own feelings? what if he takes drag as another way to make himself invalid, unserious and wry?

don't want to sound stereotypical but feminity is often associeted with compassion and emotions, the very things majima's facade seems to completely block out of the way. he's a man of contrast and duality, thats why i think the she side of Majima's character is actually all the repressed emotions. it's as when he's a man of Tojo he's not allowed to feel. this might be another thing leading us to why Kiryu has such a strong hold on him. cause Kazuma is affectionate, he's a caring parental figure AND the empitome of masculanity. Majima didn't have a chance to become like that probably because of the events in 1985. they peeled it off him. the hole created someone he didn't know, turned him into someone he was never supposed to be.

there goes the shaved look in PYIH being called cabaret manager make up implying there's more to it than simple lack of facial hair. something. something about fresh out of torture Majima using make up, using gender expression as the only connection to any of the feelings and emotions he had pre-hole. and something about Majima leaving it all behind after y0, after the events starting his entire negative development and mad dog persona. then again, kiwami Goromi as mockery of his trauma and dehumanisation of his true self. then again im going crazy because of him. the contrast he puts to Kiryu, the way he wants to show Kazuma this somewhat humiliating to masculanity creation that Goromi is and Kazzy being just... wow Majima i didn't know you had that in you. Kiryu is chill, he doesn't judge, he doesn't think it makes him any less of who he is. and going back to what i said at the beggining, i think that Majima could turn into the most gorgeous woman and would feel comfortable with that BUT. kiwami is imo the peak of his self destructive behavior. and i think Goromi could be read in that aspect.

i guess what i'm trying to say is i see his gender queerness as something that's very personal to him, as a bridge to all the repressed stuff he doesn't let anyone see. in the aspects of sexuality he's still very queer coded even as the mad dog but if it goes for his gender and feminine side i truly belive it touches something much more emotional and intimate.

#majima's character fucked the chemistry in my brain in a ways i didn't know were possible #im so so normal about him #don't even get me started on his sexuality cause this one is a hell of a ride #i will die before anything makes me shut up about him #majima goro #yakuza #rgg

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loopy777 · 6 months ago

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What do you think about the take that maiko was written to show that they were dysfunctional and shouldn't be together but the writers made them endgame in the last minute to tidy things up?

I think it's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard. But you were probably expecting that. XD

Let's prove it mathematically. Toph is a main protagonist. Toph has a romance teased with Sokka that doesn't go anywhere. Toph also gets a lesser romantic tease with Zuko. Toph doesn't get an endgame romance. If the storytellers cared about pairing people off for "tidiness," then how could they leave one of the main protagonists single after establishing two different crushes for her? If Zuko needs a romance for "tidiness," why wasn't he paired with Toph? QED.

But that's not as much fun as talking about Maiko. So let's trace the arc and see if it actually looks like a dysfunctional dynamic turned into a positive romance at the last minute.

The only place where Maiko seems even a little dysfunction in The Beach; otherwise, they're almost always getting along and being affectionate with each other and Zuko is always smiling in Mai's presence unless he's thinking about his father or Azula is present and actively trying to ruin their fun. And The Beach portrays the root of their problems being Zuko's self-loathing, not any problem with each other. Sure, Zuko talks about Mai being a "big blah," but he also insults Ty Lee there for walking on her hands, so I think he's just cranky and picking on the girls' most obvious characteristics because he's a bully and misogynist. Once he admits to being angry at himself, he's able to get along with everyone again, especially with Mai and including some characteristically physical affection.

So if the intention was for them to be dysfunctional, that's a huge writing failure. It's not present in the story, which is especially odd if that was the real intention and the Happily Ever After was a last-minute whim. We can't even say that Mai was a bad influence on Zuko, as she literally never influences him in any way at any point in their relationship -- except for one, which will discuss in a moment -- merely supporting whatever it is he thinks he wants at any given second.

And that one moment of influence Mai has? She's part of the group encouraging Zuko to be honest with himself about the source of his anger. And I'm having a hard time figuring out how that's toxic.

As I like to say, if someone is arguing that some other ship would have been written better than Maiko, then no, it wouldn't have been. It would have been written by the same people who are terrible romance storytellers no matter what ship we're talking about. But by all means, if militant Zutarians want their ship written by the geniuses behind Makorra and/or Gene Yang, I think their cluelessness is self-evident and it would be impolite to point out how stupid they are.

Anyway, back to the other half of the allegations, that Maiko happened by accident at the last minute to make things "tidy" even though everyone's story arcs were planned in advance of the season's production.

(I swear, some of these fans act like high-quality animation is the same thing as a low-budget live-action scifi show filmed in chronological order by a cast of drug-addicted actors trapped in Toronto. )

The ending of The Boiling Rock where Mai saves Zuko is a load-bearing plot point. The entire second half of that two-parter is made to build up to it, with scenes between Mai and Zuko showing their continued affection for each other and eroding Mai's commitment to the Fire Nation. Then she betrays the Fire Nation, accomplishing her switch to being a Good Guy, and she gets the confrontation with Azula which starts off the absolutely critical Azula Loses Control character arc which directly leads to her defeat.

And that arc is present in all Azula's appearances after Mai's betrayal. She can't stand on her own when she orders Mai and Ty Lee locked up, the first sign of her waning sense of control. Her voice is raw and emotional when she attacks Zuko at the Western Air Temple, and there's the way she has to unpin her hair to save her own life in a series where the hairdos are highly symbolic. Then in the finale, she explodes at Ozai, her godlike father figure, about her treatment. Before her fight with Zuko, spends an entire episode being paranoid and hallucinatory. All of that is caused by Mai.

If Mai wasn't meant to become a Good Guy, where does Azula's arc come from? If Azula wasn't meant to fall apart like that, where else is her character supposed to be properly explored? Was the entire tone of Zuko's confrontation with his sister supposed to be completely different, and not a contrast in their states of mind that conclusively proves the self-destructive nature of Ozai's Fire Nation culture? The whole back-half of the third season for the Fire Nation characters hinges entirely on Mai's grand romantic gesture of saving Zuko.

If the storytellers planned to do all that, then didn't intend for Mai and Zuko to have a triumphant reunion, I don't know how they can consider themselves professionals.

Unless the theory is that it would have been easier to just stick Ty Lee in Mai's place? But then I don't think Zuko's interactions with Ty Lee were any less toxic, so we're still left lopsided there.

I dunno, I'm a bit freaked out at the lengths some people will go to pretend that the Maiko endgame wasn't a regular part of the story. Do they know it's been 17 years since that first aired?

#anonymous #maiko #zumai #book fire

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pastorfutureletthembe · 7 months ago

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If you don't mind me asking, what do you think are Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? What are your favorite headcanons of them? Also, why do you love Link Click (like what is it that made the series special to you)? Sorry if I ask too much....

Ooh so many things to say, I apologize in advance for the wall of text haha

Let's see~

Lu Guang is too practical and one-minded. I think he has the ability to focus on only one thing at the same, because he is a very dedicated person, but also stubborn in his own way. Being a scorpio, he tends to feel a lot and comparmentizing or dissociating could be a defensive mechanism. I think that's his biggest flaw as a person. As a character, I think he's sometimes too much of an introvert to let on any information we don't already know. Yingdu Chapter is showing us so much more, because that's obviously a younger version of him. Time really took a toll on him. His greatest strength is that he doesn't give up, he finishes what he starts and I want to believe he has the maturity to recoginze his accomplishment despite having strong expectations. As a character, his most awesome feature is he's an unreliable narrator. I strongly feel about those, because they're so rare, honestly.

Cheng Xiaoshi feels, sees and experiences things in a unique way, with his whole self. I find it charming. Is it strength or weakness? Honestly don't know, but that's worth mentioning because he makes choices with his heart. That makes a good character out of him. He reminds me of Watanuki (xxxHolic); what he shows to the world is not what he is or what he feels, he struggles to find his place in a world that rejected him so early on, and that often goes with self-sacrifice. I think his biggest flaw as a person is that he is socially inapt haha but in a cute and childlish way. I love that he's socially awkward but has actual ambition? He's so creative but he needs Lu Guang's face to make things happen. He doesn't believe in himself enough while being loud about his qualities. It only makes him a more complex character but, yeah, as a man, it's a tough life haha. But that's what makes him loyal and genuine too. And the reason why he's all over Lu Guang whenever he gets the chance lmao.

HEADCANONS

I many many specific headcanons for them. You are not ready.

I'm conviced that Lu Guang is actually so weak. Not only his strength, but like, his body is constantly working against him, with constant back or neck pain despite his young age, anemia and probably low tolerance to spice and alcohol (I like to think he's a sad/whiny drunk). I think he doesn't eat much because he doesn't have any emotional bond with food (no madeleine de proust for this guy) so he doesn't particularly enjoy the act of eating as much as the fact Cheng Xiaoshi is alive to cook for him. But he has a sweet tooth! My ultimate headcanon regarding Lu Guang is that he wasn't the way we know him at all in the original timeline. I imagine he used to match Cheng Xiaoshi's energy a bit more. I find him very tame for a scorpio to be honest. We'll see~

The newest headcanon is that Cheng Xiaoshi has always been a restless sleeper. I think he always loved photography, probably because it was part of his parents' work or maybe he was praised for his pictures by classmates. Being an ARIES myself, I do recognize his dedication in things he puts himself in but is kind of lazy for things he has no interest in. He likes cooking, and this too must be linked to his mother. I imagine he used to help her when she prepared a meal. People tend to think he has abandonment issues and is kind of clingy to Lu Guang because of it, but flashbacks showed that he always was a whiny kid in need for attention (that's a good mother's boy haha *affectionate*).

On a more NSFW note, I know a huge part of the fandom identifies them on the asexual or aromantic spectrum. I don't know about that. I see what they see, but I don't think that's the whole story. I do think they can both be sexually active and enjoy sex as a way to express support and care. Cheng Xiaoshi reminds me of myself a lot. Being demi-sexual myself, I need strong intimacy and trust to be attracted to someone and feel safe with them so I guess I imagine their relationship to be this way because all of it is unrevocably there. I imagine that loving or touching Lu Guang wouldn't be enough for him, he would definitely workship him in a very intense and beautiful way. Lu Guang would probably be a quiet lover but eager, because of the dreading feeling of grief.

They would be very secretive about their private life. I'm pretty sure they were lovers in the first timeline but Lu Guang didn't want to make everything too complicated and decided not to get more emotionally compromised. Of course, as you can see in Yingdu Chapter, Cheng Xiaoshi makes it very difficult.

WHY I LOVE LINK CLICK

I came for the doomed gay, I stayed for the slice of life, I'll die for the tragic paradox and I'll dig six feet underground for hidden secrets. "The Time Traveler breaking time and space for his deadwife" memes brought me here actually hahaha

The post-modernist approach is what got me obsessed by the way hahahaha Does it make sense? The fact forshadowings are easter eggs in freaking merch? Mindblowning. I always felt like I couldn't get enough of my favorite shows, but Link Click delivers so well and I actually struggle to keep up for the first time of my life.

As a show, Link Click is beautiful to watch and I appreciate the strong cultural influences. The music got me in a chokehold as well, I never ever skipped the opening.

The fact the girls aren't mere girls but actual characters too. Qiao Ling has never been a possible love interest and that's strangly refreshing. No love triangle, just a family. That's my favorite part of the show. I fell in love with the first episode because of Emma. She still has a special spot in my heart.

And because it didn't lose time explaining anything, we literally dived right into the action (that's LCLA's biggest flaw, it wants to explain everything in details when they don't even know what's the deal with their powers lmao). The storytelling is clever, easy to follow, and the secondary characters are all so fleshed out.

Strangely enough, Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang's relationship isn't actually what I love the most about the show. And I do love them, as a pair, as stupid bff, as partners in crime, as almost lovers. But the fandom and I have a different view on the matter so I'm very dissatisfied with fanfictions so far. Me, I love the get together trope, preferably in angsty settings, but it seems they are so gay and tragic for each other in the canon that angst and slow burn aren't popular among the writers lmao. I mean, they are very gay in the canon as it is after all-

I'm quiet happy with the sharing experience of analyzing metas so far, though!

I started writing my own stories but I won't post anything before it's done.

#mission accepted #the daily life of alice's hyperfixation #link click #link click donghua #时光代理人 #lu guang #cheng xiaoshi #emma #qiao ling

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