#UHHHH I DID NOT KNOW whether you wanted this

[fingertipsmp3]

My sister messaged me

[thriftedtchotchkes]

come clean

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you're already in the shower

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, language, getting together, slow buildup, jackson era, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, rough sex, shower sex, size kink

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this one goes out to emotional support daydreams! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. hope y'all enjoy 💕

Joel’s having a rough day. It’s late, and he’s bone-tired and covered in…well, he’s not really sure what he’s covered in. Mud and bits of dead grass, definitely, but there's splotches of red on his jeans, too. He couldn’t tell you whether it’s his blood or something else’s—the adrenaline still hasn’t completely worn off, so it’s entirely possible he’s not feeling the full extent of his injuries yet.

His day hadn’t started that badly, but it wasn’t a typical morning, either. Maria had stopped him and Tommy at the gate to ask if they'd mind checking out a situation at the dam instead of patrolling their usual route.

Apparently, some of the machinery was acting up and the only person she trusted to oversee the repairs was Tommy. She honestly hadn't given much thought to Joel's part in all of it—their relationship is still pretty tense, even after his return to Jackson, so he was just along for the ride.

Things went downhill fast after they arrived at their destination. No one's really sure how the infected got into the facility, but it was a lucky thing Joel was there after all. With the help of a few guards, they were able to dispatch everything in and around the building without any bites or serious injuries but, boy, did they make a serious mess. Of the facility and the machinery they were supposed to help fix, and of Joel.

So now here he is, exhausted and dirty, getting shit from his kid when all he wants to do is get clean and take a fucking nap.

“Ew, gross,” Ellie groans, clearly not giving two shits about how badly Joel’s day is going or how little she’s helping right now. She had the day off and is somehow still watching movies in the same spot he left her in this morning. “Stop touching things! You’re getting shit everywhere.”

He ignores her and shrugs off his coat, walking into the living room to toss it over the back of his recliner, but she throws him a dirty look that stops him in his tracks.

"Whatever, m'gettin’ in the shower," he grunts, dropping it on the doormat instead. He'll probably have to burn that coat anyway if the stains and…odor are anything to go by.

"Uhhhh, no, actually you're not," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing her expectantly when she doesn't elaborate.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Did your hearing get worse or something? Shower's already on,” she nods toward the stairs. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice the sound of running water filtering down from the second floor earlier, but now he’s annoyed that he can’t shower and that she might actually be right about his hearing.

"Well then, I'm waitin' here," he sasses back, taking a seat on the recliner with zero regard to the upholstery.

"Dude!" She’s starting to look as exasperated as he feels. And her reaction isn’t unwarranted. If he touches literally anything in this living room, they’ll probably have to burn it, too.

"Fine, fine, m'not touchin' anythin'," he stands back up, holding his hands up in surrender. "How long's she been in there?"

"Like, five minutes. Probably gonna be a while, knowing her,” she replies with an amused grin. Oh, so she thinks this is funny.

"The fuck do ya expect me to do then, stand here ‘til she's out?" He asks as if it’s not exactly what he’s been doing the entire time they’ve been having this conversation.

"As long as you don't sit on any of the furniture, I don't really give a shit what you do," she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes at her, running a hand down his face in frustration. He’s just about to give up and hose himself down in the yard when she finally offers a solution.

"You could just knock and see if she'll swap out with you. She basically just got in, anyway."

“Y’know what, I think I will,” he grumbles, heading upstairs to the bathroom and leaving Ellie to her shitty 90s sci-fi thriller. She shakes her head, laughing as she slips on her headphones.

“Don’t be too loud up there!”

But with his bad ears, he doesn’t hear her.

God, you needed this shower so badly. It's been a rough day, to say the least, and it’s finally time to get the relaxation you deserve. You got saddled with an extra patrol shift because two of the usual guys had a last-minute change of assignment, and it turned a typical day into an unbelievably exhausting one.

But tonight you got lucky. There was no one around to use up all of the hot water besides Ellie, who’s been glued to the TV all day, and you miraculously got home before Joel. So tonight, you get to enjoy the expensive bottle of shampoo you found at some fancy store in some fancy mall last month, and let yourself forget for a while that there’s fucking fungus monsters out there eating people.

That is—until someone knocks on the door and ends your perfect evening before it begins. Now you’ve got soap in your eyes, and you’re slightly worried because Ellie either needs something from the bathroom or the house is on fire. There’s never an in-between with her.

“Ellie? Everything okay?” you call out, really hoping it’s not the latter.

The voice that responds is muffled and decidedly much deeper than Ellie’s, and you’re momentarily taken off guard before you realize it’s not a burglar. It’s Joel—of course, it’s Joel. He probably got off his shift late and wants to clean up, and now you feel bad for making him wait and using up all the hot water.

You can’t really hear what he’s saying over the shower, so you slide the curtain open to poke your head out. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He tries to answer you again, or at least you think he does, but you still can’t make him out, so you tell him to come inside. The door only opens a crack, but it's so quick that there's no time to duck behind the curtain before Joel's face appears and you're both staring at each other blankly.

“…Hi,” you breathe out, praying it’s just your head and not the rest of your body peeking out. “So, um, what were you saying?”

He looks a little embarrassed and it’s adorable, but the thought only crosses your mind for a split second before you notice the rest of him. He’s—there’s really no nice way to say this, but he looks revolting.

There’s dirt everywhere. Matted in his hair, under his fingernails, all over his clothes. It looks like he’s been rolling around on the ground all day, and honestly, maybe he has. He’s also got…gross, is that a chunk of…? Nope. It looks like someone exploded in his face, and he needs a shower. Badly.

The only problem is you’re covered head-to-toe in soap, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only got about 15 minutes of hot water left.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry to barge in on ya,” he mumbles, looking pointedly away from you. “I came up here to see if you wouldn’t mind pausin’ your shower for a bit, but I, uh…can see that’s gonna be a little difficult.”

You look down at yourself and, yeah, he’s right. You’re dripping water and soap all over the floor. Getting out now would be a pain in the ass, but he also really needs to get in.

“No, no. It’s totally fine! It makes way more sense for me to sit around soapy than for you to, um, stand around like that,” you reason. It’s his turn to look down at himself, and he grimaces. “Just turn around for a sec and we can swap.”

He nods, still looking sheepish, but grateful.

You duck back into the shower to shut the water off and gather up your toiletries to make room for his. You’ve already shoved half of your stuff to one side before you realize it was probably just a waste of time because there was already plenty of space—and that's when it dawns on you.

This stall is pretty big—as far as showers go, anyway. There's no reason you can't both fit in here at the same time. It's also not like he's never seen you naked before. You joined up with Joel and Ellie long before running water was in the picture, so you've had your fair share of awkward bathing encounters. Really, it's just a matter of whether or not he'll go for it.

You pop your head back out, taking a second to admire those strong, broad shoulders of his before getting his attention. Damn, he's a real catch. Hot and respectful. But seriously, he's so disgusting right now and it would be a shame to allow that to continue.

"Hey, Joel," you start, and he glances back carefully over his shoulder. You hesitate for a beat before continuing, “So, hear me out—what if we just…if we both showered…at the same time…”

He looks confused, and you realize how badly you botched that entire sentence. Okay, so talking around it didn't work. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.

"Just—just get in with me," you say softly. "We can shower together."

His brow furrows, eyes unreadable. He looks like he might be thinking it over, but his silence isn't exactly the most encouraging reaction in the world. Subconsciously, you hold your breath while you wait for an answer.

There’s no way he’s going to go for this, is there? It’s Joel. He can barely look at you in a tank top without blushing, let alone wet and naked. You’re not even sure why you bothered asking. It was clearly a dumb—

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he nods, turning back to you fully, and you swear he’s looking at you differently. That's…not what you were expecting. Not that you're complaining in the slightest. He's not even trying to hide his eagerness, and you're starting to think maybe he was waiting for you to ask all along.

"Well, come on in, cowboy."

Joel undresses slowly, eyeing what little of you he can see greedily, and it makes your cheeks burn. It’s like he can’t look away—from your eyes and lips, your collarbone. Even the tiny droplets of water that fall from your hair. It feels more intimate than any moment you’ve ever shared with Joel, and he hasn’t even touched you. Yet, hopefully.

You’re getting impatient. He's making a show of stripping down and it's taking everything you have not to get out of the shower and rip all of his clothes off yourself. His fingers are so thick, and more and more of his tanned, weather-worn skin is exposed to you as they work to unbutton his shirt.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling at this point, imagining those fingers sinking deep inside you before you can stop yourself. Fuck, you're pent up. And should probably have a lot more shame, but now he's unzipping his jeans, and you feel like you're about to combust.

You let out a pained noise without meaning to and he chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up the pace. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he teases, dropping his pants to the floor. "Why don't you get the water goin' for me?"

Now you're the one having trouble looking away. Damn, who even is this guy? He’s nothing like the Joel you’ve known for years, and definitely not the Joel who stepped into this bathroom ten minutes ago. If you'd known it would go like this, you would’ve invited him to shower with you a long time ago.

He’s down to just his boxers now, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he’s already hard. Swallowing is suddenly extremely difficult, so you shoot him one last appreciative look before doing what he asked.

You turn the water back on and it’s still pleasurably warm as it rains down onto your tense shoulders. The steady pressure soothes some of the nerves while you wait for him to join you, but you’re so caught up in the moment that you don't notice the curtain opening.

"Scoot over," he murmurs behind you, his breath fanning out over the back of your neck. He’s close, so much closer than you expected him to be. You assumed you’d be dancing around each other for at least a little while longer, but it seems like Joel knows exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the shower.

He reaches around you to grab that expensive bottle of shampoo you’ve been looking forward to, his fingers grazing your bare skin, and you shiver despite the heat of the water.

“Or you could stay right here,” he says, even closer now, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We could help each other out—with washin’ up, I mean.”

You inhale shakily, your reply getting caught in your throat. “Y-yes—yeah, yes…we should definitely do that,” you breathe out.

He chuckles and the sound is surprisingly affectionate. It gives you hope that this won’t just be a one-time thing. That after all this time, he wants you as much as you want him.

You’re the first to initiate physical contact, reaching back to bury your fingers in his hair which, in retrospect, turns out to be a terrible idea. He’s still filthy, and your fingers get caught in tangles and dirt and…probably a lot of other nasty shit you don’t want to think about.

You snort out a laugh, turning around to face him. “I think you’re up first, handsome.”

The corners of his mouth tip up as he nods, and you can’t resist the urge to reach up and trace his bottom lip with your thumb. He kisses the pad of your finger, and you wish so badly that it was your lips.

For the second time tonight, you’re feeling incredibly impatient. You want to feel more of him, let him press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you the way you both want him to, but it’ll have to wait.

You pluck the bottle from his hands and squeeze a huge dollop into your palm, telling him to turn around with a small smile. His eyes drop to the quirk of your lips for a moment too long before he obliges, and you’re starting to realize he’s getting impatient, too.

You reach up to thread your fingers into his graying hair and, somehow, the strands still feel soft despite everything tangled up in them. It’s going to take a decent amount of scrubbing before it’s back to its normal, fluffy state of disarray, but you’ll make it feel good for him. A little taste of what's to come.

He tips his head back as you massage in the shampoo, letting out the softest groan when your fingernails scratch along his scalp, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the growing ache in your core. You’re not going to make it through this shower if he keeps making noises like that. But, of course, he does, and they're getting louder.

You can feel his body starting to respond to yours, too. It’s a little cruel how you’re purposely working him up, sliding a washcloth over his shoulders and across his back, letting your fingers skim teasingly over his skin as you stretch your arms around him to reach his front.

His stomach flexes under your palm, and he inhales sharply as your hardened nipples graze across his back. You continue your path down, running your fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his hips jerk forward, seeking the friction you so desperately want to provide. He's panting, and you're both having a difficult time holding yourselves back.

Brown and red swirl in the water around your feet and down the drain, and it's enough to tell you that he's finally clean. And that you can finally touch him the way you want to.

Pressing yourself firmly against his back, you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock and he feels huge in your hand, rock hard and pulsing with his racing heartbeat. You pump him a few times, giving him a firm squeeze at the base, and he keens, already leaking all over himself.

He braces a hand on your hip to steady himself as you trail open-mouthed kisses down his spine, digging his fingers in roughly when you slowly start to jerk him off in earnest.

"T-that's it, pretty girl—,” he pants heavily, eyes dropping down to watch you work him, and you twist your wrist up on the next stroke, thumbing over his head. "Keep goin', just like that."

You whimper damply against his skin at the pet name, feeling a pleasurable whoosh in your belly as your cunt drips pathetically down your thighs. The throbbing between your legs is almost unbearable, but you don't want to let him go, not when his hips are meeting your fist so fucking desperately. You wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping it lower and lower until your fingers rub against your slick folds, gathering some of the wetness to rub soothing circles into your clit.

“I got you, I got you,” you moan at the sudden relief. Your caresses start to match his thrusts, and soon he's trembling in your arms, whimpering like he'll cum any second if you let him. You rub your cheek tenderly against his back, murmuring soft, encouraging words into his heated skin.

"You're doing so, so well," you tell him, and he seizes up at the praise, chest heaving as you focus your attention closer to the tip. "You wanna cum or are you gonna wait for me? Want you to fill me up…can you do that for me?"

For a second, you think your words might've thrown him over the edge, his hips stuttering against your palm even as you slow your movements. But he's still clearly fighting the urge to cum, and that has to mean he wants to fuck you badly.

His hand shakes as it lifts to wrap around yours, guiding you down to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but you're not making it easy for him. You barely notice your other hand still working your pussy, too turned on to realize you've started pumping two fingers in and out of yourself.

Joel notices, though. Something that sounds almost animalistic tears its way out of his chest as he turns on you, snatching your hand out of your cunt and slamming it against the shower wall. Your fingers are shiny and glistening with your wetness and he leans forward to suck each of them into his mouth, groaning at your taste on his tongue.

The look on his face makes it seem like you're the best meal he's ever had, and you feel a strong, sudden urge to have his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. He pulls off your middle finger with an audible pop, and then you're crashing your lips into his, immediately licking into him.

God, why do you taste so good in his mouth? It's salty and heady, and really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but you can't bring yourself to care as his tongue tangles with yours. You feel two—shit, no, it’s three—of his fingers slip into you, and, holy fuck, they're so much bigger than yours. You're already so full and they feel even thicker at the base, nudging a spot that makes you see stars.

There's no way his cock is going to fit inside you…right? But the thought of him trying anyway almost makes you cum on the spot. Another wave of heat crashes through you and your walls convulse around him, pussy gushing down his fingers, and he abruptly breaks away from your lips, groaning lowly, desperately.

"Fuck, I-I need—shit, I need to fuck you, pretty girl," he twitches against you, leaking a glob of precum as he ruts into your belly. “M'gonna fill ya up real good, just like you wanted—," and you gasp, clamping down on his fingers one more time before he's pulling them out and hauling you into his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he shoves you higher up the wall.

His hands roam your skin hungrily before eventually settling under the soft swell of your ass, holding you up as he slicks up his cock between your folds. Every time the tip catches your clit, your hips buck clean off the wall and he presses into you harder to keep you in place. You bury your face in his neck, thighs squeezing into his sides.

"S'not gonna fit," you slur, a little drunk off how good he feels between your legs. The next time his hips buck forward, the blunt head of his cock catches your entrance. "J-Joel—ngh…Joel, s'too big, you have to make it fit, please."

And that's when his patience runs out.

He sheathes himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, growling roughly into your hair, and the stretch is mind-numbing. He stays deep, letting you adjust to the feeling of being split open, and his head drops to your shoulder. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, your pussy stretched around him almost obscenely.

"Would'ja look at that," he mumbles to himself, rocking in and out slowly as he turns his head to suck a bruise into your collarbone. You reach a hand down curiously, wanting to feel yourself around him, and your jaw drops when your fingers brush where his thickness is forcing your cunt to yield to him. "Knew you could take me…pussy feels s-so fuckin' good, like you were made for me."

You whine pathetically as the ache starts to subside and the need for him to fuck you becomes overwhelming. Pleasure blooms where he's already grazing that heavenly spot again, and you tug his head back by his hair, bringing his attention back up to you.

Everything pauses, just for a moment. You kiss his lips delicately, so much more delicate than he's about to be with your body but, right now, you need him to know that it's more than this for you. More than the sex and the physical intimacy. And the way he kisses you back reassures you beyond a doubt that it's more than this for him, too.

Then, your patience runs out.

"Joel, move."

And suddenly, he's spearing up into that spot deep inside you with reckless abandon, bouncing you on his cock, and you're not entirely sure, but you might actually be screaming.

Your head lolls back, thudding dully against the wall, and he ducks down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue circling the nub as he continues you work you up and down his shaft. The sound your pussy's making around him should be humiliating, but it only spurs him on, the wet squelching echoing loudly over the running water.

"Hear that? That's all you, baby. So fuckin' wet, look at that," and he's watching himself again in awe as he fucks in and out of you. You follow his gaze and, holy shit, he's not kidding. You're absolutely soaking him. "You look so good like this, so goddamn pretty stretched around my cock."

You still haven't completely acclimated to how thick he is, not sure you ever actually will, and the syrupy-sweet pain of him has you clawing at his back. You use the wall as leverage, arching just enough so you can actively meet his thrusts, and the new angle sends you reeling.

"Feels so…full, so full," you gasp, your back inching higher up the wall with the force of his thrusts. "K-keep going…there, Joel, there."

It's not just that one spot he's hitting anymore—fuck, it feels like he's everywhere. The ridge of his cock is rubbing your walls just right and every other thrust fucks deep enough to graze your cervix. You sob at the onslaught of overpowering pleasure, burying your hands in his hair to tether yourself as your brain begins to fizzle.

Just a little more, you only need a little bit more. You can feel the lower half of your body locking down and, as if he can sense exactly what you need, he grinds his cock in as deep as it'll go.

"That's it, baby. C'mon, give it to me," he grits against your throat. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, you're almost there."

The coarse hairs at the base of his cock scrape roughly and a little painfully against your swollen clit as you rock against him, but the slide is still so slick and raw that your thighs begin to quake around his waist, and it's—fuck, it's so…so…

"M'gonna fucking cum—gonna…oh fuck, fuck, Joel," your lips part around what you pray is a silent scream and your body goes rigid, cunt spasming violently around him.

He chokes out a moan as you clamp down impossibly tighter on his cock. "Fuckin' hell, there we go," he rasps out shakily as he fucks you into the wall blindingly hard, letting you ride him through your orgasm.

"So, s-so good. Feels so fuckin' good," he's starting to mumble to himself deliriously, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise. You whimper helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier and more desperate, "Gonna fill you up 'til it's leakin' out…c-can I, pretty girl? Please…bet you'd look so fuckin' good with my cum spillin' out of you—"

Before you can even answer, you feel him throb and then his entire body stills, his cock visibly pulsing as he empties into you. He moans his way through it, his head dropping to your shoulder again to watch himself pump you full of cum just like he said he would.

If you thought you felt full before, it's nothing compared to how you feel right now. He's still so deep, twitching pathetically inside you as he lifts his head to nose at the underside of your jaw. He presses a soft kiss there and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter.

"Christ, Joel, where did that come from?" you rasp out. He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling his hips into your sensitive clit. Your pussy flutters around him and his breath hitches, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. He still hasn't pulled out and you have a feeling he doesn't want to.

"Been waitin' a long time for that," he murmurs, meeting your eyes. You smile softly, and your lips command his attention. "Waited a long time for you."

So full of surprises tonight. You’ve traveled with him for years, settled down with your kid, but you never expected this. For him to finally feel the same way you do, to fuck you like that. You’re suddenly extremely thankful he came home in dire need of a shower.

You run your hands up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and burying the other in his hair. The dirt, the grime—it's all gone now, replaced by your release and the sweat of your exertion. He smells so good, just like your fancy shampoo. Just like home.

You lean in to kiss him deeply and he melts into you, his lips soft and warm against yours. When you part, you're met with that look again. The one he gave you after you asked him to shower with you, and that he hasn't stopped giving you since. Like he's observing you, contemplating you.

You recognize it now—it's hope.

"I've been waiting a long time for you too, Joel."

He kisses you again, holding you close as the water goes ice cold.

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[rsatoru]

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

[mouseymilkovich]

First I wanted to tell you that I really love the way you write, you have me checking the app every minute. ✨️🤭

And second, I wanted to see if you'd like to write an idea that came to my head: it's about Carmy, maybe going to buy something or just walking around, who meets the reader (who is his first and great love), but due to different circumstances life separated them. They start talking and Carmy discovers that she got married, had a son and is now divorced and his eyes light up with this information.

Maybe he knows the reader's son in this integration or just knows of his existence

I'm really excited to see what you write (whether it's my request or not), I can't wait. 🌻❤️

oh yes. oh yes yes yes. i love this. the idea of step-dad!carmy???? yes. ALSO!!! THANK U SM

Content Tags: Uhhhh divorce mention ig??? Brief Claire mention too lol

Out of all the people in Chicago, Carmy had never expected to see you again. You were his first serious girlfriend— okay, his only serious girlfriend, considering how little time he'd spent dating between culinary school and now.

Of course, you'd forced yourself to move on with your life— you thought you'd probably never see Carmy again. You'd gotten married, had a kid, and now you were in the middle of a messy divorce. The worst part of things was deciding the custody of your son.

Your son, your beautiful son... Parker. Yes, you named him after your first love, Peter Parker... nobody else needed to know that, though.

Carmy had heard about your son through various people— Sugar, Richie, even Claire. Now, he was five years old, and you were going shopping to get school things for him. How much shit did a kindergartener need though, really?

Now, you weren't expecting to run into Carmy at Target. But you did. And you stared in silence at each other for a moment, before your son broke it.

"Mommy? You 'kay?" He asked.

You snapped out of your unintentional staring contest with Carmy, smiling a little at Parker. "Yeah, bud, mommy's fine."

"Who's dat?" He asked, looking over at Carmy curiously.

Carmy smiled awkwardly, anticipating how you would introduce him to your little boy.

"You this is mommy's friend, Carmen— almost everybody calls him Carmy, though." You explained with a little smile.

Friend.

"Uh, hi buddy. Yeah, I've known your mom for a real long time!" He nodded.

"Do you know my daddy too?" Parker asked Carmy curiously, tilting his little head.

"Oh, uh, no, bud. Sorry. I never met him. I'm sure I will though—"

"Probably... not." You muttered softly.

Carmy looked at you in confusion. Why would you not want him to meet your husband?

"We're in the middle of a divorce." You told Carmy quietly. You knew Parker knew, but you didn't exactly like talking about it in front of him.

"Oh— um, I'm sorry..." He replied softly, though it was hard to hide the excited gleam in his eye, hearing that you were newly single.

"It's... fine. I guess. Just... shit happens..." You muttered.

"Shit!" Parker repeated with a little giggle.

"Parker! No, you can't say that—" You said, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Parker, huh?" Carmy muttered, giving you a little smirk. "Wouldn't be after Peter Parker, would it?"

"Oh my god, so what if it is!" You laughed. "Shush. Nobody else has figured it out."

Carmy laughed softly, rolling his eyes. "So, um... just shopping?"

"School shopping. My boy's going to kindergarten!" You told Carmy with a proud, but slightly sad, smile.

"Damn... really?" He muttered softly. "Shit. Where's the time go?"

"I don't know..." You muttered with a little laugh.

You stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Carmy took a deep breath as he plucked up courage.

"Do you... wanna catch up? Over coffee or something? Sometime, I mean."

You were a little surprised by the question, but smiled. "Yeah... I'd like that."

"Can I come too?" Parker asked with big eyes.

You and Carmy both laughed, and you smiled at Carmy sweetly.

Carmy looked at Parker, and what he said just made your heart melt. "I would be honoured for you to join us, buddy."

Maybe this was the beginning of something better.

[aluciahaz]

Uhhhh could you possibly write an Alastor x Male! Reader? I uh got options because I didn't know if it was okay or not

Fluff- it could be like a date night yknow, Alastor and the reader are dancing together? (The others surprised about it but yknow, go Al?)

Smut- sub Alastor IF YOU WANT! It could have something to do with his ears being sensitive or they could be doing something while doing the radio show OR BOTH-

Whatever you are comfortable with doing idm idm. I just wanted to give ideas yknow

all of these are such good ideas!!! i went with the ears one but i might snatch some of these for latter pieces ❤️ tysm for requesting!

little bambi

—alastor x m!reader ( but it’s not that specific other than the use of the word cock like once sorry 😭)

—includes : sensitive ears, crying,

alastor was never one to like being touched.

of course, he enjoyed invading other people’s personal space, parading his presence of control and eerieness to people in his life, but he hated it when others did the same.

it showed that he wasn’t the one in power. that people were so unafraid of him that they’d just lay a hand on him without a second thought. that privilege was only reserved for special people.

so, of course, it took ages for you to be able to touch him in any sort of way.

and is the reason why, just now, after years into your relationship, you discover an incredibly interesting thing about alastor.

“ngh…mm,” his eyes shut in bliss without realizing, sighing in peace as your fingers scratch the back of his ears, running beneath the tufts of hair at where they started.

the static in the bedroom significantly got louder.

the two of you sit in nearly perfect silence, if not for the crescendo of humming electricity reverberating.

“…can i keep going?” you ask, noticing his stiff disposition and frozen smile. he didn’t like being caught off guard. hated it, in fact.

but you were special.

“yes… you may,” alastor hesitantly says, as though still testing the waters on whether he liked it or not. his ears worked on their own, unfortunately being one of the things he couldn’t manipulate all the time.

they showed his true emotions, just like how his eyes were a window into his dead heart. when you saw them pin back to his head, twitching in anticipation, you don’t wait to comply to his unconscious needs, petting the top of his head slowly.

his static almost sounds like a purr, and he tilts his head forward, now embracing this moment. you chuckle before gently tugging his ears back to make him look at you, only to get a very different reaction from what you expected.

“AH—!” a guttural moan ran away from his once-closed-mouth smile, his mouth agape for a brief second before digging his teeth into his bottom lip, trying to silence his unbecoming noises.

however, even with his attempts to seem less affected by your touch, it didn’t take any time at all to have him beneath you, as he was quite responsive to you with your hands on his ears. alastor just couldn’t get enough. how was he supposed to resist such an incredible feeling?

usually, he was a bit more chatty, biting at you with sharp words and sarcasm. but now, all he could do was squirm and lay his head down, trying to hide his noises behind the back of his hand. which, of course, you pull away, shaking your head in disapproval. “your voice is your pride and joy, is it not? why hide it?”

his ears go flush back onto his head as listens to you, setting his arms aside as you run your fingers down the base of his ears, and soon, time passes with haste.

it seems like it’s only been seconds when alastor lets out a weak wail from the feeling of being slowly filled with your cock, yet by looking at the analog clock on the wall, you can tell it’s almost been 30 minutes. at this point, you’d expect a snide comment from your talkative lover, yet all he could do was cry out in pleasure, his claws ripping the bed below him.

“f-faster, come on—ah!” he gasps as a particularly sharp thrust catches him off guard, cutting his demands short as he tumbles into a rush of moans as you comply with his request.

you could practically hear the moment he lets his dignity shut off, the static suddenly disappearing with no warning as you pet his ears once more, feeling them twitch underneath your fingers.

his mind seemed to be spinning, looping like a channel on repeat. you could tell by how his eyes seemed to fall into this blissful rapture, glazed over and unfocused. by how his words seemed to jumble together like a poorly written script, his usually composed voice sounding more like an amateur on air.

“you’re so beautiful,” you murmur, lifting one of your hands off his ear to brush the mess of hair out of his face, meeting his lovely crimson eyes which seemed to shine like diamonds underneath the dim lamplight.

they only seem to glisten more as you say so, a small whimper slipping off his tongue before he shuts them, a tear rolling down his rosy cheek as he cries out for you without words, but you understand his unbridled desire, picking up your pace to be gifted a loud sob of satisfaction in return.

“i—think, think i’m close,” he breathes out harshly in contrast to his usually smooth voice, his whole body trembling underneath yours. “keep—keep doing th—ah! ffu—,” he’s demanding, yet so sweet. you can’t help but listen.

and with a somewhat distorted moan, he’s sent over the edge as you dig your fingers roughly into the bottom of his ears, making him shudder and tense up with a broken cry.

you look down at the beautiful mess below you, proud of your work. the tears that had dried on his face shined like polish, and the static that usually crackled in the air was gone. it was just the two of you, and as you go and kiss him, he finds that your lips make him feel a bit more sane, grounding him in the moment.

one he’ll never forget.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[ambling-rambling]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

C/W: honestly not much. Angst. Drunk reader. Softest of fluff

I started out intending to write drunk sex but ya sad bish needed something soft instead so have the first time Bucky Barnes hears I love you and the way it wrecks him.

Don't Leave Me

The two of you didn't actually fight that often, surprising as that was to some people. You supposed you couldn't blame them, what with the ex-Winter Soldier's perpetual frown and surly demeanor.

You knew better, though. He held people at arms length for a million different reasons, each as valid as the next, but the truth was, his core was all marshmallow fluff, soft and squishy.

In the six months that you'd been an official couple, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd so much as bickered. But this? This was different. A genuine fight, where you couldn't agree and neither was willing to compromise.

It was bad enough, his being gone on missions all the time, worrying about whether he'd come home at all, and what state he'd be in when he did. And now he was talking about some sabbatical back to Europe, trying to chase down memories and make some amends clear on the other side of the planet, indefinitely.

And it sure sounded like he didn't want you to come. Sure, his excuse had been that he didn't want to drag you away from your life, make you uproot everything. Part of you knew he didn't feel worthy of that kind of devotion, that he couldn't truly comprehend that he was your everything now.

But if still felt an awful lot like a rejection, and that stung.

Maybe that was why you'd gotten so drunk, just trying to ease the tightness in your chest, drown the ache in your soul with the burn of alcohol. It would have been bad enough on its own, but the fact that it was your first legitimate fight just made it that much worse.

So you'd gotten a little carried away, and Jaeger sure as shit did have a way of creeping up on you. You'd stumbled your way into the ladies' where you now sagged against a sink, though you'd forgotten to turn the water on.

"Honey, are you alright?" a voice startled you, and you spun, or tried to. You barely managed to keep yourself upright by clinging to the edge of the sink.

"Uhhhh..." Were you? Alright? What did that even mean? You weren't dying, but you felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Surely that was just the alcohol talking, making everything extra dramatic. "No? " It came out a question, and the woman tutted softly. She was probably a little older than you, beautiful, and you found yourself half lost in the liquid brown of her eyes, hooded in deep gold eyeshadow, and the dreadlocks that framed her face.

"Can I call someone for you, honey?" she asked.

Call someone? Shit what a great idea! "Uhhh, my boyfriend," you said with a nod. "Er, well," you hedged, as the memories came flooding back in. "I think. We hadda fight." The words were slurred, and your new friend's eyes were sympathetic.

"Are you safe with him?"

Even drunk, you immediately understood the implications of what she was asking. "YES." Your response was so emphatic that she laughed a little. "We never fight like this," you said, pouting now, staring down at the toe of your tennis shoe. "Ever," you added, uncertain why you felt the need to add so much emphasis.

"Well, honey, why don't I call him for you? If he's got any brains in his head, he's probably missin' you just as much as you're missin' him."

You nodded, because Bucky definitely had brains, he was so smart, and beautiful and you just wanted to be with him always. Why did he have to make everything so fucking difficult?

Without really making a conscious decision, you unlocked your phone, open to your text conversation with Bucky. You hadn't even realized you had a slew of texts from him. It ran a course from appeasing,

I'm sorry, I just don't know what to tell you...

to irritated ,

Really? You're blowing me off?

to worried,

Okay well I deserve it. We don't have to talk but can you just answer so I know you're okay?

Y/n. Please. I'm really getting worried. I just wanna know you're alright.

You felt a little bad. You hadn't been blowing him off intentionally, you just hadn't been paying attention to your phone.

Your friend, god you really needed to ask her name, hit the dial button. Muffled through the speaker, you could nonetheless hear Bucky answer before the second ring, practically shouting your name.

"Sorry, my name's Meredith, but I've got y/n right here. She's fine, just pretty drunk. You should probably come pick her up."

There wasn't any hesitation in his promise to be there in a few minutes.

Meredith handed your phone back to you, and you tucked it away in your pocket, feeling a little guilty. You tried to stand up straight, annoyed with the way the world tilted and swayed under your feet.

"Easy there, honey. Let's go get you some water before your fella gets here."

You nod, because that seemed like a good idea. You clung to Meredith's arm as the two of you wound through the bar and the bartender handed you a glass of water. You sipped it carefully, uncertain if even that would settle. You had definitely never been this drunk before, and now that it was setting in you felt a little childish and stupid.

You heard your name and half turned. The sight of Bucky there, beautiful as ever in that leather jacket and his gloves, made you want to weep, and you sniffled.

"I was worried about you, doll," Bucky said gently, brushing one leather-clad thumb along your cheek bone.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the genuine concern in those blue eyes and the way he was hanging back, not pushing you, just made you want to fall into him.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, not looking at him. "I wasn't tryna make y'worry." The words came out slurred and you felt petulant and nauseous and why was everything such a mess?

"You good now?" Meredith asked, drawing your gaze. You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," you said.

"Thank you," Bucky said softly, extending a hand to Meredith. "Genuinely. I'm glad she found you and not..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and it wasn't a leap to know he'd been thinking about all the creeps out there who'd love to take advantage of a drunk and vulnerable woman.

"Nothin' to thank me for. Us girls gotta stick together," Meredith said with a grin. She gave your hand a little squeeze, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Bucky sighed, turning to look at you again, ducking his head to try and catch your eye. "C'mon doll, you still so mad you can't even look at me?" he asked, with a little note of frustration creeping into his tone.

You shook your head. "Not that. I just feel...Dumb." Suddenly you were crying and you couldn't even really articulate why. Bucky looked panicked, jerking the glove off his right hand to cradle your face, applying pressure to encourage you to look up without forcing you.

"What? Why? You're not dumb, y/n..." Bucky looked perplexed, worried still as you sniffled again, scrubbing at your leaking eyes.

"You still w-want me right?" The words came out slurred and choked, and you were suddenly clinging to him, clutching at his biceps. The world was unsteady under you and you just wanted to be in bed, wrapped up with him, safe and wanted.

Bucky looked genuinely shocked. "What...y/n, of course I do. You're all I want. Why would you think otherwise?"

He was so confused you almost laughed. It was so obvious to you.

"But you d-don't want me to come to Europe with you," you pointed out, your voice a drunken whine.

"I don't...y/n, I don't want to go without you," you could see he was struggling to articulate himself, the way words so often came as a fight, caught up in his head. "I just don't feel like I can ask you to walk away from your life..."

"You're not asking! I'm offering!" you interrupted, your voice a little too high, a little too loud, even to your own ears.

Bucky looked... Inexplicably sad. He stepped a little closer, so his body was pressed to yours, bare hand cradling your cheek. "I ain't worth it, doll. And I don't want you to be an ocean away from home and not another friend in sight when you figure that out." .

You felt like you were choking. Oh, or maybe that was just the alcohol in your stomach revolting. Bucky must have read the expression on your face, because he wrapped an arm around your waist, mostly carrying you toward the door. "C'mon, let's get outside," he said.

The cold air hit you like an Arctic front, had goosebumps prickling all over your skin and a shiver running up your spine. But it served to still the boiling mess in your stomach. You knew you were drunk, that he'd probably convince himself it was just the alcohol, but you had to try.

"Please baby," you whined, clutching at him. "I don't wanna be here without you. I just wanna be with you , always. You are worth it to me." Your voice cracked when you begged "don't leave me here."

"I'm not leaving you anywhere, doll. Let's go home," he murmured. You nodded, slumping into Bucky's arms, content to let him carry you to the car.

You didn't even remember getting home, just waking up in bed, a little panicked, launching yourself toward the bathroom, your stomach revolting against the ill treatment of the night before. Bucky was there within moments, sweeping your hair back out of your face, palm smoothing down your back.

You slumped to the floor when your stomach finally settled, cool tile heavenly against your heated skin. "I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"For what?" Bucky asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Getting so trashed that you had to come get me. Being so extra and now...this," your lip curled in distaste as you waved a hand at the porcelain throne.

Bucky 's lips quirked in that ghost of a smile that was his most common expression of pleasure or amusement. "That's nothin' to apologize for, doll," he said dismissively.

"Shower with me?" you asked, and Bucky nodded, starting the water before helping you to your feet. You shucked out of your clothes and ducked into the shower with a low groan of relief, only too eager to wash the night off your skin. Bucky followed you in, and his hands skimmed tenderly across your body, helping you rinse off, his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You lingered like that, for too long, really. It would have been easy, so easy, to just stay like that, pretend nothing had happened, but you couldn't.

"Bucky?" you whispered, voice rough and more than a little hesitant.

"Yeah, doll?" he asked, without lifting his head, voice muffled against your skin.

"I...I meant what I said last night. I know I was drunk, but it was still the truth. I don't... I don't wanna be here without you. I don't care where you're going, if it's anywhere even sort of long term, I wanna go. I'll go anywhere Buck, just .. please don't leave me here. Don't go without me."

He drew back, cradling your face, his expression a study in internal wars, looking both miserable and infatuated. "I just don't want you bored over there, by yourself..."

"I wouldn't be by myself," you interrupted. "I'd be with you and that's all I want."

You could practically see that self deprecating smile even before it painted his lips. "That's not all you want, doll," Bucky argued, and you felt yourself huff out an irritated breath. "You have a job that you really love and friends you love going out with, not to mention the cat..."

You sighed. "All those things will be here whenever you've done what you need to. Or I'll meet new people and make new friends. People do it all the time, Buck. Mallory would take Alpine for a while if I asked her."

Whatever argument he was about to pop off with now, you silenced it, pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop telling me what I want or don't want, Buck. I just want you. I love you."

You watched the emotions play across his face like he was a projection onto a movie screen. Incomprehension, and then disbelief, giving way to awe, and then something so, so soft it had his eyes welling up with tears.

He was searching your face, as if trying to sniff out a lie, and then abruptly, his gaze jerked down, swallowing hard. You'd been together a while, slept together, built routines that were comfortable, that he adored, but neither of you had ever broached the "l" word and he hadn't let himself believe you were building something like a life together, something lasting and permanent.

"Really?" he asked weakly.

His surprise broke you. All this time, it had been clear to you, that this was something permanent, that you were building patterns you wanted to live the rest of your life in, a comfortable place to rest and be at home. Meanwhile, he'd been holding himself apart, waiting for his fantasy to end.

"Oh, Bucky," you whispered, felt yourself choking up against your will. "Yeah, I love you , so much, baby. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, that I ever made you wonder. I love you, Bucky Barnes, completely and irrevocably."

The arms he wrapped around you were all encompassing, squeezing you tight, with a hint of trembling. "I love you too, doll. So much." His voice was rough with emotion as he clung to you, and you clung right back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, lost in the touch so long that the water started to run cold. You whined as you hurried to wash your hair before it turned to ice and then crawled out.

Wrapped in a towel, you pressed yourself in against Bucky's side. "Does this mean you'll take me to Europe?"

Bucky almost snorted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's be real, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you anyways."

[doberbutts]

just a random guy w no stake in this but yr guy also fully regurgitated israel’s/zionist lies abt the “””misfired rocket””” hitting the hospital as if there isn’t documented evidence of israel admitting to - wanting to do that - doing that - expressing joy at the fact that they did that. the israeli govt spent days saying they were gonna bomb a hospital, bombed a hospital, /said they bombed the hospital/, and then changed their story to “misfired rocket” among other things (not a single hamas rocket is capable of that kind of destruction…) when they got flack for it. and Avi has yet to retract that statement despite it being another blatant lie from the israeli govt.

& obv this is much smaller but when pointed out that what ngaiman said that was zionist (“israel has the right to exist”, which he reconfirmed was still his stance), avi doubled down on that…not being zionism. and said ppl only call gaiman a zionist bc he’s jewish (which.. sure some ppl do, but the claim that a settler colonial state (or any state, tbh) has an inherent “right” to exist, and specifically that Israel has a “right” to exist, is literally zionism. which avi seems to think is not.)

i don’t think he’s a zionist himself but he certainly repeating a lot of zionist bs uncritically

I literally just got an article this morning talking about the forensics going on regarding the hospital bombing, from CNN, citing multiple sources saying the same thing; that it was a misfired rocket originating from somewhere in Gaza and probably not intentional, with all parties with munitions denying that it was theirs despite the firing of rockets nearby from all of said parties. No shrapnel or casings have yet been recovered and until that is recovered there is no way to know for sure where the device was made or where it came from.

So unless you are leaning on the antisemitic claim that Jews control the media, either all of CNN's sources are wrong including the Palestinian ones, or he's literally just repeating what multiple sources have been saying as of this morning.

Also conveniently you're leaving out that he's also stated that it doesn't matter where the device came from, the targetting of hospitals and other civilian centers is abhorrent and an immediate ceasefire needed to be called the moment it happened. Weird how he's not praising it, he's stating what the forensic team on site is reporting, and he's stating that no matter who is at fault they shouldn't be involving peaceful civilians.

As for whether or not Israel should exist... where exactly do you want the Israelis to go? A significant number of them were born there, with ancestors that originated there, as Arabic people living alongside Palestinians. They do have just as much right to be there as Palestinians because they have common ancestry with Palestinians. Those that came from elsewhere largely were forcibly expelled as an act of genocide- "going back where (they) came from" means going back to somewhere that's made it plain they are not welcome and they'll be killed on sight. They went to Israel because they were told that was the only correct choice for them.

Also I think it is incredibly dicey to be wielding "Jews are inherent outsiders that need to go back where they came from" because that is an antisemitic statement that has echoed across history ANDDDDD I think it's uhhhh incredibly hilarious as afronative to hear fucking Americans saying this when we're on stolen land ourselves with a government that is still trying to wipe out the few indigenous people we have left and sweep its continued atrocities under the rug.

What's that saying about glass houses and stones? If you're on American soil and you're not indigenous, how about you go back where you came from? Oh? You were born here? You have a family history here? You have deep ties to the area and can't just uproot your entire life? It's a little more complicated than just getting on a plane back to Europe or Asia or Africa? Hmm. Interesting. Don't you know that makes you complicit in genocide? No no no, it doesn't matter that your family was fleeing genocide yourselves, or that your ancestors were forced to come here, or that you personally took no part in the ongoing political war being waged against the dwindling number of Natives we have left. You don't belong here. You need to be forcibly detained and expelled. Maybe even kept in a cage for a while until we figure out what to do with you.

Whoop. But that's the silent part you're not saying. You can call it Zionist if you want. But I think people need to think a little more critically about the actual logistics of what caused this problem in the first place, before firing off about it. Especially not when a lot of these talking points are at their heart incredibly antisemitic.

[connect404]

So I saw this tweet earlier Abt the dynamic between Stanford and fiddleford during the partnership and how similar it was to Stanford and bill's dynamic (incoming essay)

AND I COMPLETELY AGREE

As much as I love fiddauthor (or just ford and fiddleford in general) , fiddleford doesn't deserve the type of treatment he got from Ford.

Throughout the entire partnership,ford treated him poorly and only ever cared about him if it was related to the portal. Fiddleford was willing to work with him even though he knew he was being treated poorly,not to mention he didn't know abt bill or his intentions yet (at the time) and still had his suspicions while working with ford. He remembered to give ford a gift (hand-knitted special gloves for him to wear with several failed attempts beforehand AND a snoglobe of the shack) yet forgot to get a gift for his own wife.

He does all this but the second he tells ford that the portal is dangerous and should be destroyed,ford gets angry at him and says he doesn't need him ???

That's not to say ford isn't completely a POS , he does enjoy fiddleford's company and his partnership with him. Ford even gets closure with fiddleford and actually apologizes to him for all the shit he did to him. Ford gets character development for the most part and actually becomes a somewhat decent person. He's terrible but that's what makes him a great character. He does horrible things but also acknowledges he did said things and actively tries to not do that,even if it's hard to avoid it.

(op said he's objectively an awful person for what he did but also loves him anyway because that type of writing is what makes his character compelling and honestly I relate)

It's a shame that ford favours results over sympathy/empathy. He only ever cares people when they are of use to him and when they say something he doesn't wanna hear,he throws them to the side and searches for another.

Another thing Abt ford is that he tends to be stubborn and an egoist. No matter the situation,he always puts himself before others. This can be a good thing sometimes (like when he gets electrocuted instead of just giving bill the equation) but it's always shown in a negative light. Stan dedicated almost his entire life to bring back his brother after several decades and he never even got a thank you or when instead of hearing Stan out on that invention he broke in highschool, he just let his brother get kicked out (Ik the twins are kinda crappy people but Stan breaking ford's perpetual motion machine was an accident damnit. It's been 30+ years and he still won't let it go 😭😭)

DESPITE SAYING ALLAT....ford isn't completely to blame for his behavior and how he treats other people around him to the point of being manipulative. Sure,his main flaws are what make him act this way (insecurity,need to be better than others,doesn't really think of others,etc.) but I think the only reason they've become worse is because of bill and how he manipulated ford,basically feeding into his ego and validating his beliefs. That, combined with his occasional selfish urges makes him want more.

More knowledge.

More praise.

More fame.

And this need for more makes him impatient. So much so that he starts using the same manipulation tactics (whether intentionally or unintentionally I'm not sure) bill used on him on fiddleford to try and get the same results,since said tactics work on him,so it would makes sense for him to do the same.

TL;DR yes,ford is a bad person but he's a bad person with layers and that's why I love him sm. Also fiddleford deserved better treatment

Anyway this'll probably get like 5 likes but uhhhh I'd love to hear any take on this really.

Agree,disagree I'd love it hear it

[earl-grey-teacake]

oh lord I can picture it. George and Alex bring Logan to the paddock for the first time and they have to go somewhere and they're not sure what to do with Logan. And James volunteers to look after him and they get SUPER nervous like "are you sure James? he can be really fussy if we leave him, he can get really upset" obviously super worried about the impression it will leave on James if Logan is upset. James is like "nah I got this".

and at first Logan starts crying but then James just talks to him. like, at first, doesn't even talk to him about anything particular, then starts explaining the Williams upgrade for the weekend, and suddenly he has an armful of happy, sleepy baby.

and when Galex return they find James reading aloud from the latest data about the tyres and Logan is settled on his chest all peaceful and sleepy and smiling. and soon baby!Logan's favourite part of the weekend (other than when Galex cuddle him and take him home) is spending time with Uncle James. Uncle James and his ridiculously nice voice.

Yes!!!

James has such great vibes. I can't listen to his interviews when I'm at work for too long because I get sleepy. They're so calming and he's always so articulate.

Baby! Logan would have the best time during the race weekend. Just completely knocked out during the races as James is running through what's happening. The downside is that he sleeps so much during the day that he's very active at night.

Thank you for the ask! I wrote a little snippet below! :)❤️

Logan had his arms wrapped tightly around George’s neck, refusing to let go despite the fact that they George had to attend to media duties.

“Come on, Logan. We have to go.” Alex tried to coax the infant to let go but if only seemed to make him more distressed. George tired to pull Logan off him but that only spurred him on to grip harder. 

“Uhhhh!” Logan kicked against George’s ribs and started to whimper.

“What’re we going to do? We can’t just bring him?” Alex gently stroked Logan head, hoping to prevent any crying from happening.

“How about I look after him?” A voice intervened. James walked over, arms outstretched to take Logan.

Alex and George exchanged a nervous look. “Are you sure James? He can get really fussy when we leave. We don’t want to get so upset that you can’t do your work.”

“It will be okay. I can handle it.” The process of dislodging Logan was an ordeal. The poor baby gripped at whatever he could to avoid being separated whether it be George’s hair or shirt before trying to cling onto Alex’s jacket.

“Wahhh!” Logan pushed and wiggled, trying to get free.

“Please call us if you need anything.” George implored before quickly taking off with Alex.

“Wahhh!” Logan’s face was bright red.

“I know,” James patted Logan on the back. “I know you’re very upset but your parents have very important jobs to do today. They also don’t want to leave you but they’ll be back soon.”

This did nothing to quell the wailing but Logan was starting to get tired enough that he started to lay his head down on James’s shoulders to continue crying.

“It’ll be okay. Your parents don’t even like media duties so maybe they’ll be back quite quickly. Though Alex is quite good at being in front of a camera…The rear suspension legs are re-oriented due to the new air flow structure.” It had taken 15 minutes of James talking about media duties, the marketing department, and the new upgrades for Logan to knock out.

Alex was sure he never held as much contempt for marketing and media day as today. It was bad enough being separated from Logan but to also be asked question about whether or not they can be good drivers knowing that they have to take care of a child made him want to pull his hair out. George was practically sprinting to Williams having teared up earlier when he had to leave Logan.

I can’t believe I have two crybabies

The two of them were directed to James’s office. The door was slightly open and there was talking inside. “During Silverstone, we started off on softs…”

George was prepared for a meltdown from Logan and a potential breakdown from James because his baby had the stamina to cry for over an hour. Instead, he found Logan comfortably knocked as James rattled off tire data. Maybe it was better to have Logan stay at Williams for the time being.

[misc-obeyme]

hihi i randomly got struck with the thought of Solomon accidentally making MC immortal like him

Like I can't remember where it was said that he accidentally cooked something, or made a drink to make himself immortal and hasn't been able to recreate it. And one day he recreates it on accident without realizing, and MC consumes it for whatever reason

Just the years passing by and MC not aging, they look the same after 50 years, and no one knows how it happened. Or maybe none of the brothers notice because time passes so differently, or they don't want to jinx it/get their hopes up? It takes a family member of MC to comment for anyone to start questioning what happened

Alternatively: it could be intentional. Who knows. That's why he always wants to share his cooking

I'M SORRY I RAMBLED I JUST HAD TO SHARE THIS WITH SOMEONE AJSJDJ

Dearest anon, you need never apologize for rambling. This here is the blog of a never ending rambler, and such activities are thoroughly encouraged!

Anyway, I LOVE this idea. I have a lot of feelings about Solomon and his immortality. The game is always vague about how it happened when it comes up, but the general idea I've always had was that it happened by accident. (Whether or not this is true is up for debate, I think, and they could have plans to retcon this in nb, but for now let's go with it.)

It's a really cute idea that he keeps sharing his food with MC in the hopes that it'll make them immortal. I think Solomon might feel guilty if he did it on accident and therefore MC didn't have a choice in the matter. I think being immortal has caused him a lot of loneliness and suffering, so he would want to make sure it's what MC wants.

But MC wouldn't deal with immortality the same way Solomon had to because they would have him. There would be two immortal humans instead of just one on his own. So I think he'd accept it if MC wanted to be immortal. Like if MC was just like hey you know, I think I'd like to be immortal...

Well now Solomon's thinking about it. And if Solomon's food is so terrible because he's constantly pouring magic into it without realizing, who's to say he doesn't accidentally put magic into something he's cooking that would make MC immortal?

He's just in the kitchen, being his usual chaotic self, accidentally makes some basic dish that's full of magic and when MC eats it, poof!

It tastes totally normal and nothing dramatic happens to indicate it caused anything. When MC eats it, they're actually pleasantly surprised and proud of Solomon because wow he made something edible for once! Good job!!

Fifty years later, their aging sibling is like how the hell are you so young looking still??

MC calls Solomon like uhhhh so I think I might be immortal...

Solomon's just like huh you don't say? That's crazy, MC.

Because at that point, he's already figured out what happened. And since MC said they wanted to be immortal... and secretly this is what he wants too... well, he's not gonna say anything about, why would he?

Menace sorcerer.

I love him so much.

[sakasakiii]

hi!!! how long does an average panel of one of your comics take??

i love your work so much!! it got me into silmblr hehe

HI NONNIE!!! thank u sooooso much for checking in and for ur lovely ask! it means a lot to hear that my silly ol scribbles were what introduced u to the glorious landscape that is the tolkien fandom! on tumblr no less!! i hope you stay a real long time, and have a blast while you're at it 💖💖

now onto your question! that's some good food for thought uhhhh i can try to estimate?? its been a while but i shld have some rough ideas abt each that i can share! the time frame each comic/panel takes is highly dependent on WHAT kind of comic it is. i hv two kinds of comics I usually do: 1) full-length, and 2) goofy/4koma.

i have a few full-length comics laying about in my archive, but my most recent one/best example is Ghosts which was around uh.... 7 pages excluding the bonus panels! in terms of the process, i usually divide it into 5 stages:

Drafting: this is either the fastest stage OR the slowest depending entirely whether i know what im doing LMAO,, if i have a set idea for what i want to happen, i might get drafts done in a few hours, but if i flounder, it can take a few days 🤔

Lineart: relatively simple enough once i hv the draft down, so id say anything ranging from an hour to half a day if theres nothing else going on irl

Block colouring (main actors): there are DEFINITELY easier and more professional ways to do this with mass-selection and the lasso fill/bucket tool, but idk how to do that on SAI (my art program) so i colour everything by hand HAHA which makes the process longer.... half a day to a day?

Shading: THE WORST!!! definintely my least favourite bc i find it tedious due to all the details/prettification of elves that i am legally obliged to pour into this stage 😭😭 as a result, it can take days!!!

Background + Lighting + Final Rendering: similar to the previous stage haha it just depends on how much effort i wanna put into the final product looking nice. roughly a few days? it kind of meshes with stage 4 anyways haha

just for fun, i hope this process gif for page 6 can illustrate that 👇

these are just rough estimates, bc all in all, the time it takes so finish a page is really dependent on how free I am hahaha. Also, I usually work on full-length comics like Ghost which have more than one page all at once, which means I drafted all 7 pages at once, then did the lineart for all 7 pages at once, coloured at once, shaded rendered bla bla bla 😚 iirc, i think it took me 11 days in total to finish Ghosts before the end of June last year!

For goofy/4-koma, its usually just one page with less detailed/more cartoonish/chibi character styles so it takes a day or two days at most! again, it all boils down to how free i am hehe

YEAH SORRY THIS ENDED UP BEING AN INFO DUMP but thank you so much again for asking and letting me ramble! <3 i ended up having a lot of fun looking back on my drafts n thinking back on my processes.... theres defininitely room for improvement, but thats another worry for another day heheh 😎

[flymmsy]

Nasty Durgetash request that I can’t get out of my head: Gortash ass fucking Durge and wants them to admit they love getting fucked by the cock of Bane.

Filling this one with a f!Durge because I had a specific idea for it - (Typically try to do gender-neutral for requests, but anon if you had something else in mind feel free to resubmit!) You know how I said I think Durgetash fucks both sweetly and nasty? Yea this is one of the nasty times.

All of the requests will not be this long but uhhhh this one got out of hand WOOPS (~1.6 k Word Count)

Warnings/tags: anal, dub-con (ish? Borders on more classic toxic durgetash practices but tagging just in case – durge wants it though), rough sex, choking, slapping, spitting, dom!gortash, sub!durge, dirty talk, name calling, spanking, fingers in mouth, hair pulling. 18+

“Harder,” she demanded, writhing beneath him. Enver felt her nails drag down his back again, retracing earlier welts and drawing fresh blood.

They had been at this for hours. Durge had burst into his study mid-meeting, scaring the patriar he had been negotiating with half to death with her visage. She was drenched in blood. It had taken quick thinking on his part to rush towards her, pushing her out of the door of the study with all of the urgency of someone tending to their severely wounded friend. He had called for ‘help’, but when the nearest servant arrived, he instructed them to see the patriar out while he dealt with an ‘emergency.’ He hadn’t been able to tell whether he was dragging Durge to his bedchamber, or if she was dragging him, but he wanted to get her out of sight as quickly as possible. When the door shut closed behind them, he had begun to ask What were you thinking?, which was quickly interrupted with Durge’s mouth crashing onto his own.

He never did get the answer to his question – Durge had been relentless all night, frantic even. It was unlike her, even at the height of her Urge. She clearly did not want to talk – she wanted to fuck. The sting left by her nails tore a groan from his throat, and he hastened his thrusts. They were both sticky with sweat at this point, the air in the room heavy and filled with musk.

Durge growled beneath him before digging her nails deeper into his back. “Harder,” she demanded again, and the lewd slapping sound of their joining grew louder with his effort. Enver closed his hand around her throat, pressing down hard and using her own body as leverage to fuck deeper into her. Despite this, she growled in displeasure again only moments later.

“Wha - ” Enver began, only to be cut off by a hard slap across his face. He scoffed, halting his thrusts and turning back to Durge with a scowl. She was clearly furious that he had stopped, rolling her hips in defiance. He went to grab her wrists, but she was a flurry beneath him, fighting his grip.

“Enough!” he commanded, finally pinning her wrists to his bed. She met his ferocity, venom and disgust in her voice.  

“I said fuck me harder, Banite.”

And then she spit in his face.

He instantly stilled. A wave of rage flashed through him, but in a moment, it had been replaced by a powerful, assured calm. He met her gaze – seeing a spark in her eyes light as she realized she had successfully melted away her Enver and replaced him with Lord Gortash, Chosen of Bane.

“Well, now you’ve done it,” his voice was rough and low, but even-toned. He pulled out of her and grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her stomach. She instinctively moved to get on her knees, but a firm hand pushed her down to meet the bed again. When she pushed up against the hand, he doubled down on the pressure and connected his other hand to her ass in a harsh slap.

“You interrupt my negotiations,” he punctuated each of her transgressions with another slap to her ass, “demand my attention like some petulant child, use my cock like a bitch in heat for some immature avoidance –”

At that one, she snarled and attempted to lift herself up again. He tsked, shifting his full body weight to bear down on her.

“ – and act like an ungrateful whore all evening. Now behave.”  He dipped two fingers into her wet cunt, pulling a satisfied hum from her mouth. He eased his pressure on her slightly to lean back, bringing his other hand to rest on her ass. He spread her, watching for a few moments as her cunt greedily swallowed his fingers, waiting. As soon as she whined for more, he had the excuse he wanted.

“I warned you. Now, here’s a lesson for you.” Before she even had time to react, he slipped a slick finger into her asshole. She gasped in surprise, jolting beneath him for a moment before another smack to her ass reminded her of her required obedience. He spread her further, adding another finger into her asshole.

He had thought of taking her in the ass many times before, had spilled into his own hand at the idea of her body delighting in the painful stretch around him, but they had never really discussed the concept. But now, she had pissed him off, and he was inclined to take what he wanted while bringing her to heel.

When he added a third finger, a guttural noise escaped her throat, and his cock twitched as he watched her fists tightly grasp the bedsheets. She received a few more pulses of his fingers before he pulled them out. Fully leaning over her body now, he brought his other hand to grasp her by the hair while he shoved the three fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste her ass.

“Suck,” he demanded, and she complied, much to his delight. He worked her mouth with his fingers, shoving them deeper and deeper until she was an appropriately slobbering mess. He released her then, leaning back up to return his attention to her ass.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he taunted, slapping the head of his cock against her asshole a few times before finally pushing in. She choked back a cry, and he moaned in response. He was slow to enter her the first time, but not for her benefit – he enjoyed the languid stretch of her ass around his cock as he sank deeper. When he had finally managed to bottom out, he grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and began to thrust punishingly.

It was heinously blissful. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, using it as leverage to furiously pound into her ass. Head pulled back, her cries grew even louder, which spurred him on even more. The drag of her ass against his cock was intoxicating, and it was not long before he felt his climax begin to build.

He dragged her back up against his body by her hair, bringing her back flush against his chest as he continued his thrusts. His arms snaked around her to keep her upright, one hand closing around her neck while the other began to circle her clit. She tried to cry out, but the pressure of his hand captured the sound in her throat.

“Who do you belong to?” his face was practically pressed against her ear. She moaned, and he loosened his grasp on her throat to allow her to speak.

“Bhaal,” she spit out, and his grip immediately retightened.

“Try again,” he growled into her ear, “Whose cock is in your ass?”

She attempted to speak several times before he loosened his grip again. “Yours,” she choked out, gasping for breath.

“True enough, you are a whore for my cock,” he smirked, allowing himself to press a kiss against her neck, “But its more than just that, Bhaalspawn.”

He threw her back down on the bed and renewed his brutal pace.

“You love getting fucked by the cock of the Black Lord,” he mocked, and when he was met only with heavy silence, he laughed cruelly.

“Say it,” he commanded, smacking her ass again.  

“No,” she managed between her gasps.

“Say it!” Another smack.

“I-“

“Louder.”

“I love ge-“

“Louder!”

“I love getting fucked by the cock of Bane,” she choked out in a loud sob.

“Yes,” he hissed, his entire body lighting up in response.

“I love getting fucked by your filthy Banite cock,” she continued, unprompted, and at that he could feel his balls begin to tighten. He hummed in appreciation, the insult only emphasizing her subjugation.

“You see,” he began speaking between harsh thrusts, “it is - to our mutual benefit - when you behave -  Bhaalspawn.”

His hips began to stutter as his pace became frantic and uneven.

“Beg me for it,” he moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he gave her ass a final slap. She whined beneath him, and just when he thought he would have to be firm with her again, she mewled in compliance.

“Please spill into my ass.”

It sent him over the edge instantly. He came inside her ass with violent shudders, and he felt her own orgasm hit her ferociously. He thrust shallowly as he rode out his high, gasping for breath.

When he opened his eyes, his grip on her hips immediately softened. She was shaking, her own breathing only just beginning to regulate. Worry flashed through him for a moment but quickly subsided – he learned long ago that his Bhaalspawn could handle most anything thrown her way. She was his favorite toy he could never break.  

He allowed her a moment, rubbing circles into her hips. Sure enough, she rose before long to curl back against his chest as before, but this time his embrace was far more tender. She snaked a hand behind his head to give herself leverage to look at him – her body was finally loose, and she smiled with wicked abandon. Still, he couldn’t help but feel something was off, a sense of desperation that had not quite evaporated.

“You’re going to get me disowned,” she laughed shallowly while shrugging.

“What Father doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he smirked, expecting one of her usual retorts.

Instead, she furrowed her brow and closed her eyes, for fear of spilling their truth.

[tossball-stick]

heyy i saw your latest post about john's aromantic trutherism and i didn't exactly understand what you mean by that... could you explain? i too don't think he is actually in love with abigail if that's what you were saying...?

hiii!!! 1: thank you for asking about this im excited to write and analyze him in this way

2: plsplspls get the idea outta ur head that aromantic people cant love. noooo i couldnt have been misunderstood more. i wanna clarify that i do think john loves abigail. i just dont think that love is all that romantically motivated and ive got a few reasons to believe so.

3: uhhhh uhhh this ended up being like 2.5k words of analysis on john im sorry. no one on tumblr has asked me my thoughts about him before so this is the first time im talking about a lot of the stuff here and theres so much ive thought about johns character and its all messy and intertwined. itll be a little all over the place. i am deeply sorry.

okay. first reason? hes otherwise not much of a romantic. whether he wants to be or not, he falls flat on his face every attempt there is at being romantic with abigail (rarely do we see him be romantic with other women) is usually met with disdain, if there even are many to begin with. its rare to hear john say something pleasant about having a woman, and its rare to ever witness them having a good time together while in the gang. 

...up until the epilogue and john gets his shit together. but by that point i could argue further analysis as to how john isnt wholly himself by that point. hear me out.

john and arthur are two halves of one whole to me. its clear theres some sort of void in john after arthur dies, and he still holds the memory of arthur very very dear. he does his best to keep the memories alive, in fact, in a way to keep arthur alive. 

this starts extending to some kinda interesting parallels, though. writing and drawing in arthurs journal like he did, the hat being placed on johns head, john proposing with marys ring, the phrasing and tone of johns proposal is also shockingly familiar to arthur telling john that itd make him happy if john went to his family... after arthurs death, i find john taking on many of his traits even. he becomes more quiet and closed off, we see it even in rdr2 with arthur telking him to "knock it off with the whole being mysterious thing" or whatever. arthur claims its to act like dutch, but ill do you one better, its clearly just john idolizing his older brother and trying to be like him to be a proper man. this brings me to my next point...

the time period of rdr2!!! yayyy cowboys, the victorian era, Did u know. being a man was something you had to do in previous american and european cultures? this slowly started fading as we roll over into the 20th century, but there was a lot of emphasis placed on performing your role as a man. to be a good man, you must do xyz. otherwise, you are seen as immature, as a boy, as a child. 

throughout the entire series of red dead redemption, both 1 and 2, theres a lot of stuff pointing towards jogns struggle to Be A Man. arthur and dutch frequently refuse to let him grow up, still calling him "little john" and still treating him like hes a rowdy unruly boy that needs to learn better, not a man who should know better. hosea is the only man treating john like hes a man, and even then id say hes fairly lax with the guy. only as the story of rdr2 progresses do we see arthur start to shift his view towards john. not as a boy to stay a boy, because the gang isnt gonna be around forever. john cant keep being a boy. he needs to become a man, take care of his family. 

working off a distinctly gentleman influenced view of masculinity, johns inability to be a man is almost directly tied to his inability to be a proper romantic for his wife. compared to arthur, who is seen taken women on dates and flirting with them just to make them laugh at times. hes dancing with the ladies and helping them up and down the coaches, wagons, and horses. john like. just barely remembers to do that for abi in the epilogue. again, his failings to be a true romantic are tied with his failings as a man. 

in rdr1, this even extends to bill having the bit of dialogue, "you always were a scared little boy!" continuing to imply that john is not a man, hes never been a man. the only reason we can read him as a man Now is because we are going by arthurs definition of manhood. we can extend this further and say bill still views john as a boy because john does not live up to bills expectations of manhood- while arthur may view being a man as something chivalrous, more gentlemanly, bill clearly views masculinity as power and violence, without much to do with women. john does not live up to that, to bill, until the end.

if you read "masculinity" as "being romantic and chivalrous towards women", then, as john fails at being a romantic, he too fails at being a man. there are a lot of other ways john is immature and childish but this is a really easy one to point out if you know the time period and just how much emphasis was placed on both romanticism and manliness, and how they intertwined.

third reasoning for aro john: his family wasnt his for so much of his life. this one is another one that needs a bit of elaboration i fear.

the story of john and abigail getting together is simple enough. she joined the gang at 17 as a sex worker, slept around with some of the gang, then for one reason or another, very clearly believed that the pregnancy was johns. john runs away for a year.

in this time, we dont know a whole lot about what gang life was like without john. however, with arthurs comments about marrying abigail himself and loving her, and his close relationship with jack, i think its pretty clear arthur was the one being a man in johns place. when john left, there was a john shaped hole arthur had to fill. (i also like to think this because the potential misery of arthur having to lose his family a second time once john returns is fun to me.)

even in the story of rdr2, we see john Love and Care For his family, but its never in the same, romantic way arthur seems to involve himself in abi and jacks lives. john will defend them with his life, but when it actually comes to pulling himself up by his bootstraps and being a father or a husband, he kinda just drags his feet and gets lost. he has to be told to reunite with his family at jacks party, despite, in my eyes, his love for jack being very clearly displayed while they were looking for him. 

this is only bolstered by the conclusion of rdr2, with john and arthur on the mountain. arthur, in all his holy parallels, like jesus passing the virgin mary off to john the beloved, arthur tells john it would make him very happy if [john] went to be with his family and left. arthur is passing his family off onto john, the same as jesus passed his family onto saint john. (this one hits harder if you know the rest of the "arthur is jesus" parallels and symbolism but i feel like those would be more impactful as a web weave, and i cant make one right now haha. most obvious one i can think of to support this though is arthur being a scapegoat, dying for the gangs sins.) remember these points they are the most important and will come back later.

reason number four: "but javier-!" shhhhshshsh lemme talk. yes. john is infinitely more intimate with javier than abigail. however, again, we must take the time period into account.

not that far off from many disgusting redpill communities today, back in the 1800s it was typically expected for men to socialize with men and women with women. there was a certain level of bonding you only had with your wife, as well as a certain level of bonding you only had with the men who were close to you. 

i have got to grab this fandom by the shoulders and say rockstar did not make these men as affectionate as they should have been with each other, and thats completely platonically. this is taking romance out of the equation, these men considered each other brothers and family. they were all in a cult together. they would have been very close, and also very affectionate! they would confide in each other and hold each other and cry to each other. they would make gifts for each other and sing and dance together. you can at least see them all pass around beer bottles between each other.

do i think john and javier are closer than most? yes absolutely. do i think javier is in love with john in some way? yes absolutely. do i think its romantic? ehhh maybe. do i think john loves javier? yes absolutely. do i think its romantic? ....noo not really. their whole dynamic reads as one sided through and through to me. even if they ever got together im sure they were quickly apart again, and i doubt the relationship would have been fulfilling in the ways javier would want, leaving him longing still.

the "ive always loved you, even now" immediately funneling into a crate being shoved onto john to knock him over can also be metaphorical- javiers love is disarming to john Because he does not know how to react to it. hes never known how to react to it. hes never known how to react to love from anyone, because "love" seems to feel so much different for everyone but him.

reason ff. fiiiiive. dear god. im sorry for this being this long: john loves. he clearly loves very hard. he was clearly wrecked by arthurs death, he would clearly crawl through hell for his family, he was clearly hurt because his love for javier eventually stabbed him in the back. however, to me, a lot of this love feels similar to the love john has for dutch, or arthur, really. its familial, its platonic, it sure as hell isnt romantic. (even if the games themselves like to joke about it being so lol.)

its just clear to me that he loves. he cant not love jack and abi after everything hes done for them. he cant not love javier after being so close for so long. but in the same vein, he cant not love dutch for the same reasons. ysee what i mean? his devotion to his wife and child feels identical to the devotion to dutch, compared to arthur, whos devotion to eliza and isaac directly went against his devotion to dutch.

much like with dutch, where john was still seen as a boy, he will ferociously do the big things for his family (saving jack, defending the ranch, tackling gangsters and robbers). he will almost always fail to do the little things that would make him a true man, though. yknow. winding down, relaxing, just working, not getting involved in fights. spending some time with his family maybe. 

he can shape up and be good, he just never does. 

and i think thats why hes so torn between leaving on his own, leaving with his family, or staying with the gang. theres no difference between romantic, platonic, or familial love for him. when arthur tells him to go be with his family and john replies "youre my brother" its not only announcing arthur as family, but i think it only reinforces that blurred line of what love is for john. "i love you the same as them, why must i leave you behind? if they are family and i love them, then you too must be family, for i love you."

point six: i hope you remembered the first few points like i told you to. you did remember right

this brings us back around to john not being a man by not being a romantic, arthurs family being passed off to him, and also john not wholly being himself later on. in the epilogue, between 1899 and 1908, we hear about how john has been unable to avoid trouble and has them on the run still. whenever abigail asks something of him, he instead goes and does what he wants. its only after she leaves him (ultimate failure of being a man) do we see him start to shape himself up again, and i would argue this shaping up increases substantially after he reunites with charles. charles sets him on the right path and reawakens that memory of arthur. i imagine being close to blackwater also helps here. id argue due to charles' apparent closeness with arthur, and then sudden closeness to john due to john being all thats left of arthur... it makes john also feel like hes all thats left of arthur. i believe after speaking with charles and thinking to himself, he decides to fulfill the one dream arthur had, seemingly, at the end: take care of the family he had lost. well, eliza and isaac are six feet in the dirt so next best option: abi and jack. 

john starts to become quieter and more in his own shell- by rdr1 hes struggling to even really ask people for help with the most basic things. he becomes a lot more of a romantic speaker. he had always used fancy words with the gang, but never with charismatic purpose in the way i feel he does in rdr1. he starts making the decisions he thinks arthur would make. as a result, the hole that arthur left behind when he died, does not get filled by john. instead it simply gets filled with whatever arthur john can muster from within himself.

id also like to bring up john being the favorite, but not the golden boy. he was the youngest and most spoiled, but he was not the one dutch turned to for just about everything. he was still living in arthurs shadow, so i imagine all of that also plays a role in johns choice to live like arthur to get his family back, to be a man. he failed at being a man by his own merits. arthur was a real man by his own merits, lets just do what we've always done and look up to our older brother about it. copy what he does. clearly hes got it all figured out, even though you know he didnt, after reading the journal. 

this all is finally bolstered by john making the choice to kill micah and repeat the VDL cycle of violence, which ruins the perfect life he made for himself. he makes another decision HE, not arthur, HE would make, and thus has to deal with the consequences. 

in conclusion: i think john loves a lot and very hard. hes passionate about these people. but in his own words towards javier that start to become readable as projection, "hes a cynic that wants to be a romantic" and "hes all passion, no love ('no love' being how he perceives it, due to the views of those around him. he loves abigail and jack, he loved arthur, though because his version of love was different than theirs, its not read as love. therefore, he has none in his own eyes)." 

all of this coupled with a detached attachment style that leaves him cold and distant leaves him being tugged along in romances he truthfully does not feel the same about. he says he does, because he loves, but he doesnt know why the love isnt the same. so, clearly, since he loves, he must want the romance. he has to perform it for love regardless of if he truly does want romance or not. if he loves, he must be a romantic, and hes failing at being a romantic, so he cant be himself. he must be someone else in order to convey his love to his family.

i hope i got everything across alright ^-^ feel free to ask questions or send more asks ive got plenty more where that came from

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

Rhymix Danganronpa AU or whatever but the wheel chooses their fate you should FUCKING GET IT BY NOW I THINK.

this is cursed.

the cast is determined by The Wheel™ (The Wheel™ made terrible decisions ngl) so yeah. here they are:

so yeah. the rest of the shit here will be under the cut. let'sa gooooooooooo (is filled with guilt and shame)

———

1. Chapter 1:

- Victim: Ionostream

- Culprit: Stasis

- Quick scenario:

WHAT THE FUCK STASIS-

Okay so basically: after killing game gets announced to the participants by Monocredits (i should really not call him that ew), Stasis gets desperate to escape, so he tricks Ionostream to come with him with the fake reasoning being, "I wanna discuss some escape methods with you! Y'know, ones that don't involve murder~"

Yeah, escape methods that don't involve murder my fucking ASS. He kills her and yeah. Lol. Lmao even. (is in paint without the t rn)

2. Chapter 2:

- Victim: Ringed Genesis

- Culprit: solips

- Quick scenario:

NOOOOO FUCK NOOOOOOOOOOOOO *head in hands*

After the events of chapter 1, Ringed Genesis becomes terrified and paranoid. Meanwhile, Solips—who is driven with even more curiosity than ever before—decides that maybe he should...try something.

Seeing that Genesis is in a more weaker state of mind, Solips takes his plan into action. However, after doing the deed, Solips couldn't help but feel...guilt.

3. Chapter 3:

- Victim 1: Lucas

- Victim 2: FANTA5Y

- Culprit: Upshift

- Quick scenario:

A motive is shown to the participants; whoever kills, their loved ones don't get hurt (which is 100% a motive used in THH ch1 but shhhh i'm still uncreative as shit ok). Upshift, desperate to save both Perfect and NULCTRL's lives, decided that he needed to commit a murder. Because he's stupid.

He thought about doing this with FANTA5Y, because she's also thinking of committing a murder to save one of her own loved ones: her long time crush. They both then decided to work together to sort out a plan to murder...Lucas. Because Lucas is the only one who isn't shown a motive, because that lonely ass of his doesn't have any friends (anymore).

However, what FANTA5Y didn't know, was that Upshift is merely using her for his own gain. After killing Lucas (who really did tried his best to fight back), he killed FANTA5Y.

He feels so bad about it once the trial starts that he just...tries to make sure everyone is convinced enough that he's the culprit. Because he knew damn well that if his two friends knew what he did for their sake, they wouldn't be happy about it at all.

(i'm deadass using the fucking. cursed ch3 format for this one. ew. i got uncreative ok)

(also this one is LONG. I POPPED OFF WITH THIS ONE FUCKKK)

4. Chapter 4:

- Victim: Amazing Mighty

- Culprit: Tempo

- Quick scenario:

Okay, this one makes NO FUCKING SENSE??????

But I guess in this logic Gods Can Be Killed, so whatever.

I genuinely don't know what to come up with for this one. I really don't. Uhhhh-

Motive comes up where if nobody kills Amazing Mighty before midnight strikes, everyone dies. Tempo didn't want that to happen, and decided to give it a shot. Mighty lets him kill him, solely because he's pretty tired with living life as The One Who Transcends All. Tempo kills him, cries about it, and then moves on for the rest of the day until the body discovery announcement.

5. Chapter 5:

- Victim and traitor: Opia

- Culprit: Tsunagite

- Quick scenario:

OH DAMN.

I initially wanted the culprit to be the traitor, but then The Wheel™ landed on Opia as the victim an then I immediately came up with a banger scenario.

Motive for this chapter is literally so fucking vague to the participants: just kill whoever you think is the traitor. Nothing about it says whether you can escape if you don't get caught or not. It just says do it. Lmao.

Tsunagite eventually finds out it's Opia, and filled with rage, kills him with her powers. She later becomes horrified and literally goes insane during the trial. Just- she literally goes insane over her horror of committing a murder. She never did that before, not even with Pandora. So now she's horrified.

She died in such a state too; horrified.

(woagh a traitor?????!!!!!!!!)

6. Chapter 6:

- Mastermind: Lumine

- Survivors: RGB, Ego Eimi, Ray, and Axium Crisis

- Quick scenario(???):

*Destonio voice* LUMINE??????????????

I GENUINELY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO COME UP AS A REASON FOR LUMINE TO BE THE MASTERMIND I REALLY DON'T KNOW 😭😭😭

Uhh.......she hates this world. Idk I genuinely don't know so I'll just leave it as it is.

The literal only child among the cast survived, though! Horray for RGB!

———

OH MY GOD THAT'S ALL WHAT THW FUCK I AM NOT OKAY

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

🖤 + ship of your choice?

kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

I keep thinking "I'm so bad at writing angst and anything upsetting, I hate leaving my stories as anything but lighthearted :/" but then I consistently end up writing angst into everything, including fic chapters that are supposed to be comedic and fluffy so uhhhh lets see how I do when deliberately going for emotional devastation :D !

And since I've been thinking about it lately we'll go with a premise of:

A Jason who knows he's come back from death many times but has no guarantee he'll come back from death again volunteering for a suicide mission and Tim knowing this might be his last chance to confess

There's nothing graphic, but this is all hurt no comfort, angsty as fuck sad shit with an ending that leaves it ambiguous as to whether or not this death sticks. Hope y'all enjoy!

Jason states in a flat, calm tone, "It needs to be me."

They all turn to look at him, their bodies backlit by the glow of the reactor's slowly worsening meltdown.

"What the hell are you talking about," Dick asks, while Tim's blood turns to ice in his veins.

"I didn't survive that plane crash into the meteor. I didn't survive that fall into the ocean. I didn't survive the warehouse. I've been killed over and over and come back from it every time, so if one of us has to die tonight it needs to be me."

"A terrible argument," Damian declares resolutely, standing firm despite his trembling, "We have no reason to suspect that those instances were anything other than circumstance. Random chance and dumb luck runs out. What we need is certainty, and... and Father would bring me back again. We all know it. I can take it."

"I did not come back just to throw another kid to their death! Maybe when you're gnarled and grey and about three hundred years too old to live without a lazarus pit we can talk, but until then I am not about to let you die in my stead."

Damian backs down quietly. He looks relieved, and guilty.

"Then let me do it," Tim demands, trying and failing to sound light and fearless, "Everyone else has had a turn with death, seems a little unfair doesn't it? Hogging all the afterlife experiences for yourselves?"

Jason says with quiet vehemence, "If that's how fairness works, then I will be as brutally unfair to you as I can be."

A long silence stretches between them as they stare each other down. Tim fights to keep the lump in his throat from spilling out into tears and Jason struggles between the need to see himself grieved and the yearning to comfort him and make this all easier somehow.

Finally Dick breaks the silence, "What would you like us to do for your funeral this time?"

"I want to be cremated on the bank of the Ganges with proper rites. Mild preference for a Shaivite or Shakta sect, but I'm not really picky."

And that was it. His fate was sealed.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Tim grabs his hand before he can step into the airlock leading to the reactor's emergency maintenance tunnels.

Jason glares at him, "You aren't stoppin-"

"I know!" Tim lowers his voice to a whisper, "I know..."

"Then what...?"

"I'm sorry if this isn't anything you want, but I can't let you go without saying it. I- I love you. I'm in love with you."

He looks stunned, shocked, almost hurt. Then he kisses Tim fiercely, pressing every bit of affection he can into him with the slim moments they have left. Salt stings their dry lips and they cling to each other with vain desperation until their arms ache.

When he finally pulls back Jason roughly scrubs the tears from his eyes, "Fucking cruel of you to give a dying man something to live for."

"Promise me, please, if you can, if you get a choice, if you're at all able to, please promise me you'll come back?"

"No. I love you more than bread and wine, but my death is mine and I utterly refuse to allow your feelings or anyone else's to sway me in this. However..." Jason's voice grows soft, and he lifts Tim's hand to tenderly kiss at his palm and wrist, "If I am brought back? I swear that it will be you I come back to. I swear that I will give you my heart and everything else you ask of me; this will be the only thing I ever deny you."

Tim grips him tight, squeezing his eyes shut, tears and sweat rolling down his cheeks as the reactor burns itself ever hotter. Then he shoves Jason away, into the airlock chamber.

"I hope it's quick," He knows it won't be, "I hope it doesn't hurt," He knows it will, "I hope you get what's best for you," Just as long as it's not the end you want.

"Goodbye Tim. I love you."

"I love you too. So, so much..."

The blast door swings shut between them.

[prentissluvr]

i dont have all of my sam thots and dean thoughts just yet but I had to send in this bc I completely forgot about meg! sam

and its a damn shame that we didn't see more of that bc it solidified my stance on being a sam girlie

we got at least 3 episodes of demon dean (i have not seen him yet i've only heard about it) but we got like less than half an hour with meg! sam and honestly we deserved more with him

meg! sam made me feel lots of things LOLL

(i wanted to be jo SO BAD in that episode LMAO)

now i need your thots on him please :p

KJDFSJL NO BECAUSE... NOOO I CANT thinking about the amount of meg!sam edits i've seen in the past few days. thinking about the one saved in my camera roll. thinking about throwing up pissing my pants projectile vomiting and passing the fuck out. i reiterate tho, i'm normal!! i'm so so so normal and i don't feel things about it!!!!!!!

i'm honestly still like borderline unsure about how nsfw i want to get on this blog, but uhhh i'm just gonna start typing and see where my dirty fucking mind takes me!

cw : highly suggestive!! no smut, but still absolutely no minors!! MDNI!! contains condescending/mean/possessed sam, but also sweet sam too <33. use of gendered terms, but it is gender inclusive to fem, masc, and gn as much as i could make it! horrible writing it's genuinely just me going feral :))

sooo basically for me the worst (best) part of meg!sam was his voice! it's so bad (never have i ever heard anything hotter in my life). IDK I DONT EVEN THINK I CAN FORM A COHERENT THOUGHT OVER THIS NOT GONNA LIE. uhm uhhh ummmm uhhhh uhmmmm.

so basically so basically, essentially, wwowowowowowowowifjhshf alright lets focus on one thing at a time.

we'll start with that goddamn voice of his. the way it goes from teasing, condescending to deeper, more gravelly and matter-of-fact and then back to condescending LIKE WHOO IM GONNA NEED TO TAKE A LAP. idk just thinking about his large hand on the back of your head, maybe tangled in your hair if the way you wear it allows for that, and his veiny forearm visible through your peripheral vision as he says "open up.. that's a girl" like he did to jo😭😭😭 (or he's says "thaaat's it" to keep things gender neutral, dragging out the "that's" for an extra second, that extra gravel in his condescending tone).

and while this is in possessed!sam context, he'd definitely say things like that normally, i do personally envision him to be less condescending and more sincere. either way, hot as fuck if you ask me. also this isn't meg!sam, but in season seven he says "good girl" and i do listen to that clip several times a day, i am so serious when i say that and i have no shame about it!! i have daddy issues so i do not care!!! so yeah he also says good girl/boy/whatever variation you enjoy best <3 uhmmm yeah but the main point is his hot as fuck voice, right next to your ear with his breath tickling you sensitive skin. especially with that whisper. oh god the whisper😭 and along with "that's a girl," there's atta girl and he'd use that one too so i'll go die in a hole :))) but yeah he genuinely thinks you're so good for him so expect that praise, whether you want it sweet or mean.

then we also have his facial expressions!! the smirk he uses to rile you up or that he flashes you, all mean and haughty because he knows he's getting to you. the fake pity too!! lord help me, once again the utterly fake pity just falls under that condescending persona that was so hot about meg!sam. i'm just gonna use photo evidence and you can imagine him looking at you like that!! enjoy!

last thing i have to say about meg!sam is manhandling!! ahahaahahahaahahah i'm normal and okay!! (this is a cry for help i need him so bad). um yeah while i hate the context of the manhandling of jo in the episode because it's crossing so many boundaries, i will still enjoy the fact that he is hot. so yeah! have fun thinking about sam whirling you around and pinning you between his chest and nearest surface, hand on your forehead to tilt your chin up and give him full access to the skin of your neck. his other hand is pinning your wrist to whatever surface is behind you, and your own free hand is tangled in his hair and he lays wet, desperate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. that's all hahahahaha :)))) feeling so sane right now!!