#also whoops this ended up being longer than intended

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak au, strangers to lovers

word count: 7.2k

summary: Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.

warnings: conversation about past failed relationships + sexual relationships, sarah's off at college, reader being briefly self conscious about her body, touch starved joel, oral (giving), both reader and joel not being intimate with anyone for a while, piv sex, riding for the first time, ass play, messy, joel showing small signs of relationship anxiety, sexual tension, size kink, dirty talk, joel is mentioned to be older than reader but how old isn't specified, praise kink, joel being...well-endowed

a/n: this ended up being more emotional and longer than I intended lmaodfbvfg whoops?

Joel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His right knee bobs nervously, his jeans making a sound every time. The early morning sun filters through the small window. A soft yellow light bounces off the picture frames on the orthopedist's desk. She’s not here yet. The kind nurse had let him in early, saying she would be there shortly. It smells like medicine. It’s too clean and he doesn’t like it. 

His stomach turns. Some part of him actually hopes the doctor doesn’t come in. Joel’s not hopeful about the results. His knees have been bugging him for the past two months. Locking painfully whenever he sat too long and got up. Or when he was sitting in the truck for too long. It just started to ache out of nowhere. It had gotten worse. He’d give in, finally, after Sarah practically begged him on the phone to see a doctor. After all this time he still couldn’t say no to his sweet girl. 

The door opens with a click. Joel becomes stiff, eyes nervously following the woman. She takes a seat. Placing the folder neatly on the shiny table, she opens it and smooths it out with the flat of her palms. 

“Good morning, Mister Miller.” she says, not bothering to look at him. “I've taken a look at your knee x-rays and it seems that you have a bit of damage in your meniscus.”

His molars catch the smooth inside of his cheek and sink into it. She just said a whole lot that he doesn’t understand. He shakes his head. She’s finally looking at him, sharp eyes peering between thinned lashes. 

“Is it serious? What does that mean?” he asks, hands finding the curve of his knees. 

“Well, the good news is that it's not a major injury. There’s just a bit of damage in the tissues and can be treated with some medication and physical therapy. You won’t need surgery unless it escalates. Which, hopefully, it won’t.”

“Okay, that's good to hear. What kind of medication and therapy do I need?”

“I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to help reduce the swelling and pain in your knee. And as for physical therapy, I'd recommend you try swimming. It's a low-impact exercise that can help strengthen the muscles around your knee and promote healing. I also have some stretches I want to show you. I want you to do them daily.” 

She closes the folder, picks up a deck of Post-it notes, and starts scribbling something. 

“You were a contractor, right? I’m going to need you to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. No jumping, no running, no extreme movements that can affect your knee. Some walking is fine, but not a lot.” 

“Well,” he smacks his lips. Now relaxed, he leans back into the chair and crosses his arms. “There goes my weekend plans.” 

“Do you work out a lot? Because this is quite common in athletes.” 

“Uh…It was a joke.” 

“Oh.” 

Suddenly he’s fidgety again. Not wanting to look dumb, he explains. “Because you said jumpin’ and runnin’ and no one spends their weekend jumpin’ do they?” 

A nervous laughter bubbles in his throat, and he manages to swallow it down. She nods and peels the paper away. Handing it to Joel, she looks at him with a small smile. 

“Sorry about that, it’s still early. And you’re right. They don’t. 

You step into the small shower cabin and allow the cold water to trace over your skin and wash away the outside. The elastic of your swimming cap digs into your forehead, the goggles applying pressure right above your head. Slightly irritated, you sneak two fingers under where the plastic starts, allowing your head to breathe one last time before taking a dip in the pool. You come here almost every day. It’s relaxing, soothing. 

Your fingers slip as you twist the knob, turning off the spray of water. You might be biased due to your childhood, but you love the pool. You love the chlorine that fills your lungs with every breath. It’s sharp and pungent, leaving a slight burn in your lungs. During summers your parents would send you off to summer camp, which you thoroughly enjoyed. Though, calling it a “camp” felt wrong. It wasn’t outdoors, and you would return after the day ended, just like regular school, but instead of math, there was swimming and basketball. 

You remember those days fondly, which is why you sigh blissfully at the scent whereas a lot of people would wrinkle their noses. 

Walking to the pool, you roll your shoulders. You wince upon hearing them crack. It’s been a long week. Your gaze lifts to the ceiling. The soft pitter patters of rain echoes. You love to swim when it rains. It also meant there would be fewer people, and no children. You don’t have anything against the tiny humans, but they had a habit of being loud. 

You spot an older couple, their bodies swaying in a lazy backstroke, their voices spilling out in laughter. You also notice one other person that’s aggressively swimming back and forth. In one lane, you notice a man. His cap and black goggles make it hard to catch a glimpse of his face. It’s hardly inappropriate, but you can’t resist stealing a few more glances at him. 

You take in his broad shoulders, thick neck, and shapely arms. You narrow your eyes. You catch a glimpse of his salt and pepper beard, the darker hue of his mustache hinting at the  color of his hair. Your eyes drop to his hands, hidden in the water up to the knuckles. He clenches them into fists before releasing them.

Your curiosity piques. You’ve never seen him before, he looks lost. He’s standing above the built-in stairs which are mainly used for people who are just learning to swim. He takes another step lower. The light blue water splashes over his soft stomach and he jerks away. You instinctively smile. You usually don’t reach out to people. If they smile at you, you smile back or talk about the weather. But the stranger’s nervous energy prompts you to take a couple of steps closer—close enough that he can hear you. You take a deep breath, pressing your nails into your palms, you push down the thoughts about your own appearance. No one really looks that good in a one piece. You feel exposed, which is why you usually dip into the water as fast as you can before anyone can get a good look. 

“Hi there,” you squeak, with an awkward lift of your hand. The man stiffens and turns. Your own image is reflected back at you thanks to the goggles he wears. “Sorry to bother you, I was just…wondering if you need help?” 

He stares at you in silence for a brief moment, his brows drawn together with confusion. But a moment later he relaxes, his shoulders drop and he playfully shakes his head. 

Finally, he removes the goggles, and you see his eyes— his gorgeous, big brown eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You’re suddenly feeling very clammy and sweaty. 

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, a grin teasing at his lips. “My doctor said I need to start swimmin’ before my knees give out entirely.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

He waves his hand in dismissal, “Don’t be. It's nothin’ that serious, just small damage to my meniscus. I know how to swim, so it’s nothin’ like that but I guess my nerves are fried from worryin’ all weak about the results. My brain still ain’t convinced that everythin’ is fine.” 

God, he’s gorgeous. All you can do is focus on the movement of his lips. Him speaking is enough to fluster you. You need to get it together before he thinks you’re a creep. You part your lips, but the words die in your throat as you watch him. He starts climbing the steps one by one with an extended hand. The water cascades down his body, his trunks sticking to his thighs. In a fit of panic, you glue your eyes to his. 

“I’m Joel by the way.” he takes your hand and gives it two firm shakes. You introduce yourself but all you can hear is your own frantic heartbeat. 

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” you blurt out. You have no idea what to say or what you’re doing. “If you’re nervous we can do a couple of laps together if you want—if you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

You swear your heart stops when his eyes flit across your face, assessing how serious you are. His smile never fades. You inhale sharply when his tongue darts out from between his lips, sweeping over his damp bottom lip.

“I bet you say that to all the older guys.” 

“Only the cute ones.” 

Clearly, the circuits between your brain and mouth are heavily damaged because there’s no way on god’s green earth did you just say that. You blink fast. Images of you choking out another you vivid in your mind. You’re insane—only the ones that are cute, who even says that? No more romantic comedies for you. 

Joel pushes his shoulders back. He exhales a deep breath, his chest heaving. 

“Well, ain’t that kind of you.” he takes a step back into the water, some part of you regrets not sneaking at least one more glance at his nethers. “I guess I should take you up on your offer. It’s only polite.” 

A nervous bubble of laughter escapes your throat. You don’t say anything and follow him into the pool. You’re glad to be finally submerging your body in water. Ever since you were little you would believe that water had magical healing properties. You would go into the water, thinking that someone it would speak to you. Despite being an adult, you still think that sometimes. It just makes life a little bit more fun. You know it’s stupid to think of chloric water having any kind of benefit to your body, however, it’s hard to break old thought patterns. 

Joel dips head first, and after watching his distorted silhouette underwater, you follow. You smile, bubbles coming from your nose. Your spine cracks as your body becomes more fluid. You turn around so you are facing upwards. Light bounces on top of the small waves. The ceiling is nothing but a blur of white and blue. Some part of you wishes this was an open pool so you could feel the vibrations of raindrops hitting the waterline. 

Turning again, you notice Joel moving up. His head pops above water. You take one last glance at his body before propelling yourself up, joining him. 

Your eyes follow the way waterdrops smooths a line down from his neck to his shoulder. Your mouth goes dry. 

“So,” you say. “Did your doctor give you any specific exercises?” 

He shakes his head, “She just told me to go swimmin’. And not to put pressure on my knees.” 

You think for a bit before answering, “Alright then. We’ll just take it slow, so a couple of laps first, take small breaks in between.” 

“You…really don’t have to, you know,” Joel looks almost guilty before his eyes move away from yours. Confused, you raise an eyebrow. 

“I don’t have to what?” 

“Swim with me.” 

You feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces of glass that stick to your lungs. His voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at the end of his sentence. Your body moves towards his by instinct. The most natural thing would be to place your hand on his cheek and pull him for a tender kiss. Your body singing at you to do it. And man, you’re tempted alright. You want to trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, taste the chlorine on his lips. 

You ball your hands into tight fists, thankful to be hidden underwater. You recognize the loneliness that maps across his handsome countenance. 

“I know I don’t have to,” you say instead. He looks back at you with surprise, eyes immediately dropping to your wet lips. “I want to.” 

He lets out a breath of relief, and nods, a smile gracing his lips. “A’right then. As long as I’m not keepin’ you from anythin’.” 

The swimming had gone well. Joel definitely had the body and stamina for it, and the more laps he did, the more confident he became with his strokes. You found yourself staring at him openly, stealing glances before you dipped below the water, hiding your embarrassment. 

However, he was still a beginner, and he’s knees began to ache after the tenth lap. He insisted that you continue without him as he sat at the side of the pool. You were hesitant at first but agreed, however, your cheeks burned from the mere prospect of that man watching you swim. 

When you’re done, you catch him staring at you with a fond smile lingering on his lips. You imagine that’s the same look he’d give you with the first rays of sunlight after a rather passionate night. 

Your pussy bottoms out, heat spreading between your legs. You inhale sharply, accidentally snorting a bit of water. It burns and your eyes water, but you manage to swallow down the frantic coughs that threaten to rip from your throat. 

“Sweet little mermaid.” he mutters as you approach, eyes following you with greed. Your breath hitches, and Joel loses his grounding for a moment. He clears his throat and looks away. “You swim well.” 

“Thanks,” you answer. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

You ignore the heat that emanates from his thigh, your arms accidentally brushing against the hard muscle. You clumsily push yourself out of the pool and take a seat next to him. 

“How’re your knees feeling?” you ask. 

He lets out a hum, stretching his legs underwater. “They’re fine. Hopefully, this works.” 

“I’m sure it will.” 

"Even if it doesn't work out, at least I won't be going home empty-handed," he says with a smile. Your eyes flick to him and widen slightly. Very inappropriately, your nipples tighten. A blush starts from his neck and spreads across his broad chest, you notice the goosebumps bursting over his skin. He starts to fidget with his thumbs. “And by that, I mean that I got to meet you. I think I put that weirdly.” 

The world comes rushing back and you feel the soft waves of the pool on your skin again. You smile. Without thinking much, you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. A soft chuckle parts his lips as he leans into you. Neither of you moves away from the other. 

“So,” you say, flinching at how high-pitched you sound. “Is there a Mrs. Joel?” 

He laughs. The sound reminds you of an open field with colorful flowers dancing side to side with the wind. Instinctively, you sigh, your lashes kissing your cheeks. 

“Nope,” he answers. “What about you?” 

You shake your head, “I’ve been single for two years.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“Well,” you look ahead, the old couple you spotted before is getting out of the pool. “My heart got broken quite a few times. I think without noticing I closed myself off after my last relationship. I find it hard to open up now and—” you cut off, your gaze drifting back to him. You bark an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and drop your head to your chest. “Aaand, I have no idea why I’m telling you this. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. For what it’s worth, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either.” 

You grin and raise an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe.” 

Joel smiles but it’s a soft one, like he’s remembering something—or in this case, someone. With unblinking eyes, you wait for him to elaborate. He notices your gaze, his smile stretches into a grin. 

“It’s not that interestin’ of a story,” he sighs. “I had my daughter when I was quite young. Mother left. And until Sarah went to college there was no one. After she left…I had a couple of flings but that’s pretty much it. Nothin’ long term.” 

“You have a daughter?” 

“Uh, yeah.” he answers, scratching the back of his head. You feel kind of bad now that you made him feel awkward. That wasn’t your intention at all. You’re surprised, but you find it to be sweet that he has a daughter. It must’ve been hard to raise her on his own. 

Before you can say anything, you sense him pulling back, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder isn’t pressed against yours anymore, the lack of contact makes you ache. He moves his legs languidly under the water, your gaze follows the movement. 

“I know it might be awkward. And not ideal. But I would love it if we could get to know each other more.” 

Your ears burning, you take his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. If he’s surprised by your sudden gesture, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at you and you squeeze again, drawing his gaze back to you. 

“That’s not why I asked. That was probably a bit insensitive of me, I was just surprised and it came out wrong.” you let out a breath of relief when his thumb begins to draw slow circles over your skin. A shiver settles at the base of your spine. “And I would very much like to get to know you.” 

Your heart skips a beat at the way his entire face lights up. Looking at him proving to be similar to looking into the sun, you lower your gaze and grin. You feel dizzy. 

“Does that mean I can ask for your number sunshine?” he asks and leans closer. His warm breath fanning your cheek. 

You nod, “Of course.” 

The pleasant buzz that thrums in your veins soon shift into one of simmering annoyance. Of course, someone took—no, stole—your umbrella. It’s just your luck. It’s raining cats and dogs and all you can do is watch the heavy drops collide with concrete as you wait outside. You look up to the sky, pleading that it stops. You love the rain, love listening to it, but only if you’re surrounded by your cozy home wrapped in a blanket. Or if you’re swimming. 

You could’ve handled a soft drizzle, sometimes you even enjoyed walking under the rain, but not this. You swear one of those drops alone can poke an eye out. It’s deafening. Thunder echoes, and you can’t help but flinch. Everything is so loud. Your body is refreshed, but at the same time, your muscles are drained from all the swimming. Exhausted from the workout and the excitement, all you want is a cozy nook with a steaming cup of tea and a good book.

You don’t have much else to do until the rain stops, therefore, you think of Joel. He’d been truly a splendid surprise. Sometimes life sucked but moments like those made it better. After exchanging numbers, he’d promised to call you as soon as he was back home. 

A smile tugs at your lips. You find it cute that he said he called instead of texting you. You’ll get to hear his voice which is a huge plus. 

You’re viciously ripped away from your thoughts when a loud honk echoes above the rain. With your hairs standing on edge, you see a truck with the window pulled down. You narrow your eyes. The rain and headlights create a thick fog, making it difficult to see clearly. 

“Joel?” you call out, hoping that you’re seeing right. 

“Hey,” he answers, leaning over and popping the door open for you. “Hop in.” 

You take the first step, a bit uncertain with your movements in fear that it might be an illusion created by the stormy night, but it’s not. The leather seat under you is solid and so is the man sitting next to you. You wipe your face with your sleeve. 

“Thanks. You basically saved my ass right now. Some asshole stole my umbrella.” 

He grins, “It’s the least I could do.” 

The rain pounds relentlessly against the windshield, the sound a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you flinch as a particularly loud crack splits through the air. You jump in your seat. Joel’s hand lands softly on your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You look at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice gentle as he squeezes.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch is warm and inviting. Like a soft caress that makes your skin tingle. You feel a sudden urge to lean into him, to climb on top of his lap, and allow his wide hands to roam all over your back. 

Joel starts the car and drives onto the road. The world outside is a blur of colors and lights. Neon signs flicker in the rain, casting a rainbow of colors on the wet pavement. The buildings are tall and imposing, like ancient giants looming over the city. The headlights of passing cars slice through the darkness, creating sharp streaks of light that dance across your vision.

You watch the world pass by in a daze, lost in thought. The rain is a soothing sound, like a lullaby that whispers you to sleep. Joel’s hand on your thigh is a comforting presence, grounding you in reality. 

The rain grows louder, the drops striking the windshield almost violently. Much to your disappointment, he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling a sudden emptiness. You open your eyes, watching as he shifts gears and maneuvers the car through the busy streets.

You lean your head against the window, watching the world outside blur by in a dizzying whirl. You don’t have much to say and that’s okay. His presence isn’t forcing you to make awkward small talk. You’re completely content just being here with him, a moment you’re positive that you’ll never forget, no matter which direction your relationship with him goes. 

When you finally pull up to your house, dread washes over you. You want to invite him inside for something warm, as a thank you for rescuing you from the rain. But you’re not entirely sure that you should. 

You push back your worries.

“This is me,” you break the silence. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I have tea and coffee— or perhaps you would prefer wine to warm you up?" 

The last addition was meant as a joke, a little bit of humor to break the tension. Joel’s lips are tightly pressed together, his knuckles almost white from how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel. After grueling moments of silence, he swallows and turns off the car. 

“Wine sounds great.” 

The sound of your front door closing behind you feels momentous. Ironically enough, you don’t get to open the bottle of wine. You kiss him first, and he follows, pushing you up against the wall with possessive hands. You barely manage to push the door closed. He’s all consuming. Inhaling your chlorine scented skin and drinking lust from your lips. He kneads your breasts in his large palms and you gasp into his mouth, he swallows the sound. Parting away, he licks the seam of your lips before leveling you with a steady gaze. 

“I promised myself to take this slow,” he rasps, panting heavily. When the first hints of laughter tickle the back of your throat, he takes hold of your hips and presses them firmly together. You feel the hardness of his length through the fabric of his jeans. Your eyes roll back. “That feels good don’t it—fuck—I just don’t want to fuck this up, you’re really nice and—” 

“Joel,” you say, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Calm down. You’re not going to fuck this up. We’re in this together. I really want this, you do too. But if you want to go slow, have that wine, we’ll go slow. But I don’t want you to be stressed out of your mind no matter what you choose, okay?” 

He exhales a breath, deep and steady. “Okay,” he says, hands squeezing your hips. “Okay. Sorry ‘bout that. I hope I didn’t scare you off.” 

“You could never,” you say, brushing your lips together. “So, what do you wanna do?” 

“I think I want to show you to a good time, sweetheart.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I want to fuck you.” he swallows. “If you want it too.” 

“Oh, believe me. I do.” 

You catch the curve of a mischievous smile before he crashes into you, claiming your lips in a heady kiss. He pushes a leg between your thighs and your grind down, gasping at the friction. Warmth gathers under the tissue of your stomach, everlasting. It’s been so long since you felt like this. The heat of someone tearing you apart and pulling you back again. 

A pleasant tingle spreads from your legs up your spine. Joel licks into you, his tongue moving over yours. He nips at your bottom lip. You whine when he parts away, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He feels your pulse with his lips. An involuntary giggle leaves you as his mustache chafes the skin. He teeths at the flesh and you grind your hips down once more, wetness growing between your legs. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathes shakily. “Show me to the bedroom.” 

The trip to the bedroom is a disorienting one; A blur of limbs and kisses being traded with one another. You feel like a teenager, not being able to keep away not even for a second. You don’t bother to close the bedroom door. Joel pulls your shirt off, your ears left ringing at the force of it while your hands fumble with his zipper. Joel chuckles and bats your hands away. The way you furrow your brows goes unnoticed. He dips his head, closing his lips around the tight nipple. 

Your legs start to shake. He flicks his tongue, the tight nub pebbling swiftly. Your head falls back, a deep moan coming from the back of your throat. He sucks and moves his jaw, applying pressure. While one hand rests over the curve of your waist, the other promptly toys with your unattended nipple, pinching and twisting until it’s hard and aching. 

“Shit—Joel—” you gasp, voice quivering. “It’s been a while, it feels so good. Fuck.” 

He parts away from your chest, the tip of his tongue swirling deftly around the areola. His warm breath makes you shiver. “That’s okay honey, I’ve got you.” 

“Take this off,” you mumble in a daze, pulling at the hem of his shirt. You bend your knees to cup his erection, it pulses under your palm. “And take these off too. I want you in my mouth.” 

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’d like that, huh? My cock in your mouth, cummin’ down your throat as you wrap them pretty lips around me—what a sight it would be.” 

“Fuck yes,” you choke out, gently pushing him towards the bed. 

You’re almost delusional in the way you speak and move. He’d painted you a picture you so desperately wanted to make into reality. You tug off his shirt as he kicks off his jeans along with his underwear. A sharp exhale parts your lips when you feel his dripping cock against your lower stomach. Heavy and hot, pressing against your skin. You wrap your fingers around the base and they barely close around him. The tips of your ears burn. 

“J-Joel, oh my god,” you say with awe. “I-I don’t know if I can take you all.” 

His fingers touch the back of your neck and he pulls you between his legs as the two of you tumble onto the bed. He gently squeezes, your body melting at the touch. His lips touch your ear. 

“Sure you can, sunshine. We’ll just take it nice and slow, a’right? I’ll fuck this pretty little cunt with just the tip if I have to, it feels good all the same.” his thumb traces your bottom lip, and slowly, he pushes the digit into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering, you suck his thumb. “Just get my dick nice and wet with this dirty tongue of yours. Been twitchin’ since you uttered the words.”  

He pops out his thumb and leaves wet streaks across your cheek. You move down his body, dragging your nails down the swell of his stomach as you get closer and closer to his length. Joel hisses when you wetly kiss the tip, a bead of precum forming. You wrap one hand around the base and rest the other over his stomach, fingers caressing the coarse hairs that form a sinful trail. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper, lips dancing over the length of his throbbing cock. He moans. “That swimsuit of yours doesn’t do you justice at all.” 

“If you continue to talk like that I’m going to bust,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “Please just—” he swallows. “Just stop toyin’ with me.” 

Answering him with a throaty hum, you dip your tongue into the slit, groaning at the taste of him. His cock twitches against your lips, smearing precum over the tender swell of it. Parting your mouth wide, you take the bulbous head between your lips and flatten your tongue. You feel a vein that curls underneath his length. You groan and take him deeper. He’s been truly blessed, the width stretching you wide, forcing saliva to dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Slick glistening at the insides of your thighs. 

You’re still worried about not being able to take him all. You want to feel every inch of him buried deep inside, and even though Joel assured you that it would be okay, you still want this to go perfectly. It’s been a long time for you both, you want it to feel good for him too. 

“Deeper,” he croaks out and when you look up, you find those gorgeous, dazed out, brown eyes looking down at you. “Can you?” 

Your lids flutter heavily. Nodding, you force your head down, your chin straining as you take him halfway. Your vision blurs with tears. Spit oozes down his length, your throat convulsing at the pressure. 

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he praises through grit teeth, his southern drawl deeper and more noticeable than before. “So fuckin’ well. You feel so good—I ain’t gonna last sweetheart.” 

Encouraged by his sudden honesty, you mentally grin. And with more fervor than before, you bounce your head up and down while stroking the rest with your hand. Briefly you remove your lips, swipe your palm over the head and move it back down, coating the rest of him with slick. You take him again, his thighs tightening around your frame, shaking uncontrollably as he forces his hips to remain still. 

Moans echo from the back of Joel’s throat, filling the room with his deep cadence. He reaches out for your hand and locks your fingers together, holding you and guiding your hand further up his stomach. You’re a bit unbalanced now. His cock spears almost painfully down your throat. While trying to limit yourself with only the half of his length, his cock twitches, and throbs. You repeatedly swallow around him, your hand starting to shake. 

Large drops of precum coat your tongue and go down your throat, his grip on your hand painfully tight. You breathe heavily through your nose. He’s about to come. With a ferality you haven’t felt with anyone before, you push apart your legs and force yourself down against the sheets. The soft fabric doing little when it grazes your aching clit. You moan around him. 

Then you find yourself empty. A gasp rips from your throat at the way Joel pulls you off his cock, breathing in heavy pants. Your gaze drops to his cock. The head a beautiful shade of red, glistening with precome and spit. You lick your lips. 

“Sorry,” he grunts, pulling you so that you’re straddling his waist. He pushes himself up by the elbows, face only an inch away from yours. “I didn’t wanna come just yet. Need to feel you around me, sunshine.” 

He closes the distance and claims you with a devout kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, hips jerking up in a weak attempt to seek you out. You breathe him in. The scent of chlorine and something so undeniable Joel fills your lungs. 

“Don’t keep me waiting then,” you grin against his lips. He mimics your expression grinning as he lays back down. He guides you to raise your hips, and briefly, worry crosses your face. 

A question quickly follows, “What’s wrong?” 

“I…fuck, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” but of course, he doesn’t let go and fixes you a look that has you spilling your guts. “It’s just been a while and well. I’ve never actually done it like…this.” 

“You never rode someone before?” 

You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Frowning, he touches the abused flesh with his thumb and tugs it away, smoothing it with the pad of his finger. 

“We can switch positions. It’s okay.” 

“But I want to try it.” your words coming out in a rush, it’s followed by a nervous laughter. “I always did, but my partners usually had other plans. And after a while, I just generally chickened out and stopped asking. I got embarrassed.” 

“Oh, honey.” 

Your eyes widen upon feeling his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. His hand cradles the back of your head and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You kiss the skin. Warmth blossoming in your chest. Both of you suspended in the moment, breathing each other in and out. Soon, his fingers trace a path down your spine, and a chill spreads at the end of your back. 

“Believe me,” he mutters, you feel the movement of his jaw. “I would want nothin’ more than to have you on top of me, takin’ you deep. I’m sorry those assholes made you feel otherwise.” 

You choke out a sound, smiling and shaking your head. “It’s not that they were assholes—well, maybe some of them—but maybe I just wasn’t good at expressing myself. Or I just didn’t look…” you clear your throat, his arms tighten around you, forcing the air out of your lungs. “Anyway, it’s not important.” 

“You express yourself fine if you ask me.” his thumb skims over your clit and you gasp. The digit slides between your folds with ease, he hums in approval. “And it looks like your body is expressin’ itself quite well too.” 

An understanding without words forms between your two. He cups your ass and you lift yourself up by holding onto his broad shoulders. Joel jerks himself with one hand before he motions you to lower yourself. Despite how soaking wet you are, the stretch still makes you wince. You continue a bit further, having to stop when it proves to be more painful than pleasurable. Sliding his one hand back to your front, he leisurely circles around your clit. You clench and dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“That’s it, go slow sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. You’re doin’ so good for me. Spreading yourself around my cock like that.” 

Feeling yourself becoming loose, you sink further down, only having to stop again a few inches later. You groan in frustration and Joel puts his mouth on your breasts, sucking. 

You draw in a long breath, “Is that all of it?”

Joel looks up and allows himself to smile. 

“Well, nearly. Just a bit more.” 

His mouth moves down and captures your nipple between his lips. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. With a moan, you sink down completely, his hips flush against yours. Joel breaks away from your tender skin, both of you moaning loudly in unison. His head falls back against the bedpost, staring at you between heavy lids. He looks completely blissed out. 

Wanting more of the debouched expression, you ever so slightly move up your hips and sit back down again. His eyes squeeze shut, his throat trembling with a wrecked groan. You’re not doing any better, your eyes rolling back as your muscles start to spasm. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet. Shit. Can I move, sunshine? Please?” 

“God yes,” you breathe out, your head spinning. His hands cup your rear, helping you to lift halfway off his cock before lowering you again. Electricity runs up your spine. Your cry out his name, pulsing around him uncontrollably. “J-Joel, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s okay,” he groans, voice hoarse. “I ain’t gonna last long either.” 

The two of you capture a soft rhythm that works for the both of you. Joel guides the sloppy roll of your hips, and you do your best to move up and down his cock. Your legs aching due to the swimming. You want to go faster, the burning between your legs growing with every grind of your hips. There’s an itch deep inside. An inch that you can’t seem to scratch with the way you’re moving. You whimper and fix Joel a pleading look. His cock twitches. 

“You want it harder?” he rasps, lashes fluttering. 

“Yes,” you exhale. “Give it to me, Joel. I want you to fuck me hard with this big cock of yours.” you make a show of rolling your tongue and pressing your hips flush against him, grinding yourself into his pelvis. 

“The mouth on you, Jesus.” he drawls but with a smile. Your heart skips a beat, a grin of your own touching your lips. 

You’re confused when Joel sucks two fingers into his mouth. Not that you’re complaining. You see the pink of his tongue, the glistening spit that coats his thick fingers. Pulling them out, Joel massages your asscheeks and spreads them, you moan as the open air hits your other hole. He brushes two wet fingers over the rim, making you quiver. 

“Feels good?” 

You nod and he slips one finger, your entire body jolts, your breath catching in your throat. However, you don’t have time to focus on the new sensation. Joel presses his feet into the mattress and with fervor, he starts fucking up into you. Railing you until you’re gasping for air and left feeling nothing else but the heavy stroke of his cock. You shout his name, your lungs burn. 

“That’s it make a mess of me, darlin’. Such a good fuckin’ girl. All you need is my help isn’t it? Look at you, doin’ so well for me.” the words he continues to mutter force out a visceral reaction from you. You claw at his chest. Dragging them down as his cock spears into you over and over. The slick sounds echoing throughout the room. You notice him watching where you two connect, he looks hypnotized. His lips parting as he watches his cock disappear into your wet cunt. 

He pushes his finger in deeper and you’re suddenly aware of how full you feel. Your arms that keep you upright buckle and you fall down, covering him like a blanket. An apology touches your lips, but before you can, Joel’s lips are already on your temple, kissing and whispering praise all the while continuing to fuck you senseless. He pulls out his finger and slightly lifts your hips for a better angle. You whine at the loss and hear him chuckle. 

“Another time, sunshine.” 

Your walls start to spasm and contract, his hips start to stutter. His strong steady strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, he pushes you down against him rolling his hips and grinding deeper into you. Fuck. Your head is spinning violently. Your cunt dripping and making a mess of his cock. He rubs into you again, the dark hairs that crown his length stimulating your throbbing clit. 

A silent scream shakes your chest. You see white before you squeeze him tight, the force of it making his breath hitch. You gush around him. Slick rolling down his cock and seeping into the sheets. You don’t even notice the wet tears smeared all over your face as you nuzzle him. Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. Leaving you shaking and panting for air. Joel holds you still, his hands comforting against your heated skin. 

Your jaw goes slack when he gently thrusts up again, shushing you when you let out a whine. 

“Where do you want me?” 

It takes you a while to understand the question. Lifting your head, you give him a blank stare. His eyes glimmer with amusement, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. 

“Look at you,” he coos. “Pretty little thing completely fucked out. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

You’re pretty sure you actually purr at his words. You leisurely smile. You lift your hips and push them back down, both of you groaning in delight. He keeps uttering pretty from under his breath, his own composure breaking down. Another orgasm rolls over you, albeit much softer this time, like a fire warming your skin. You sigh happily, kissing him on the lips. 

“Where?” he asks, a bit more desperate this time. 

“My mouth.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Everything is sloppy and uncoordinated. You’re not even sure how you make your way down between his legs. You’re still throbbing when you suck on the tip, your eyes closing as you taste the mixture of you and himself. You take him as deep as you can, feeling him at the back of your throat. He holds your head but doesn’t force you to the more. 

“Sweetheart, move your tongue.” 

Your skin prickles at how hoarse he sounds. You happily obliged, stroking the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue. He sucks in a sharp breath, his chest expanding, and on the exhale, he lets out the loudest moan of the night. It comes from the depths of his lungs. His hips jerk, finally spilling down your throat, you swallow him greedily, your walls pulsing with a need to be stretched again. 

He comes and comes and comes. There’s so much of it. It floods your mouth, trickling down your chin. You breathe heavily. His cock throbs on your tongue and god you love the feeling. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, that felt so good.” his hands fall limp to his side. With a grin, you release his cock and swallow once more, more audibly this time. His dark gaze drops to your lips. He shakily wipes the come that spilled from your lips, popping it back into your mouth. You lick at the digit eagerly. “I should thank whoever it was that stole your umbrella,” he mumbles. 

“We should get them a cake,” you tease, kissing the empty patch on his beard. “So…should we get cleaned up and then…talk?” 

He squeezes your hips and then follows the curve of your spine. “Sounds like a plan, sunshine.” 

You end up sharing that bottle of wine after all. 

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Can I request something with Freminet? I’d love a scenario where reader offers to help him with his Fatui combat training. A practice sparring match turns into pinning him down and eating him out right there on the mats

Ooh, what a fun idea~ I'm assuming you want afab/trans Freminet since you said ‘eating him out’, but if that's not the case just shoot me another ask and I will post an alternative version for you 💙

Also this ended up being longer than intended. Whoops~

The air surrounding you was bitter cold as another wave of cryo flew towards you, the familiar sting of ice against your skin was painful but not enough for you to back down. You asked him not to hold back, and he agreed only if you would do the same

Weapons clashed as Freminet brought his claymore down upon you for the nth time, expertly blocked by your own defense. Though he was a rather small man, his strength was on par with your own. Even if this was only a friendly sparring match, it had adrenaline rushing through your veins nonetheless, heart pounding away as you both put your strength to the test

The match was fairly balanced for a while, the two of you recovering quickly and rushing back to throw another attack combo against the other. But you could tell that Freminet was beginning to waiver, his movement speed slightly decreased and recovery time just a hair longer than it was ten minutes ago

Putting all of your strength into this one last attack, you managed to knock his claymore clean out of his hands, falling to the ground with a loud clank. You took this opportunity to rush towards him and tackle him to the ground, straddling his hips and pinning his arms on either side of his head

Freminet gazed up at you wide eyed, attempting to squirm out of your grasp futilely. “Y/n...let go...” He whined, chest heaving from the intense physicality of your training

“Push me off then. If you think you can.” Your teasing tone caused him to whine again, attempting his escape one more time, though ultimately unable to free himself. His body tensing up then slumping down as he sighed, “I can't...too worn out...”

Chuckling at his defeated pout, you hummed in satisfaction. “Then let's call it here. I'm a little worn out too.” You couldn't help but take note of the vulnerable position that Freminet was placed in. His small frame pinned beneath you, panting heavily and breath rasping, heat radiating off of his skin. You shifted your weight a bit, hips pressing down onto his and accidentally pushing up against his clothed cunt

Freminet squeaked at the sudden friction, his hips jerked upwards and he moaned, throwing his head back against the ground. You blinked in surprise, frozen in place until the realization of what caused his reaction hit you. Oh. OH. Oh...that was... really cute...and really hot...

Still worked up from the fight, your heart hammered against your ribcage and a different kind of excitement bubbled to the surface. Quickly releasing your grip on his wrists, you shifted your position so that you were on your knees and Freminet's legs were on either side of you. “Ah! H-hey...what ar– Mm!! ” He swiftly covered his mouth with the back of his hand, muffling the embarrassing noises that spilled from his lips as your hand stroked over his shorts

“You're excited too.” You purred, licking your lips as you stared at his clothed crotch, dipping your fingers under his belt and tugging his shorts down a bit. Freminet didn't really try to stop you. Instead he seemed to lean into your touches, even lifting his hips up so that you could remove his clothing and expose his cute little pussy

You locked eyes with him only for a second, smiling before dipping your head down to taste him. Freminet threw his head back as the flat of your tongue licked over his folds, flicking his clit at the last second and chuckling at his little noises. When you finally stuck your tongue deeper inside, he was already dripping, and you eagerly slurped up every drop that spilled out. “O-ooh! Aaahh...y/n...”

Freminet clenched around your tongue as you continued devouring him, humming against his soaked pussy and causing him to squeal from the vibrations. His hands tangled in your hair and tugged rather harshly when you started sucking on his clit, alternating between short licks and sucking roughly on the sensitive bud

After a few minutes of giving his clit so much attention, you went back to using your tongue to probe around inside of him, lapping at his wet folds as he writhed in pleasure from your skilled tongue movements. Freminet thrust against your mouth when he felt your thumb begin circling his clit, eating him out fervently

“A-aah! Y/n...oh-oh god– ” His fingers dug into your scalp, pushing your head down as his orgasm rapidly approached. You hungrily growled into his pussy, licking and sucking on it as you brought him right to the edge–

A high-pitched scream echoed throughout the training room as you spanked Freminet's clit, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he came in your mouth. His sweet juices dripped down your chin when you finally detached your mouth from him, rubbing his thighs and telling him how amazing he tasted as he came down from his high

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

if it’s not too much to ask (🥺) could you do a reader who’s best friends with Colin and he teases her about her crush on Jamie and tries to get them together? If not, NO WORRIES. Your stuff is so 🥰

(this ended up being a lot longer than I intended...whoops!)

You and Colin grew up together. You were two peas in a pod, the thickest of thieves. You knew everything about each other. You were the first person he told when he realized he was gay. He was the first person you told after you had your first kiss. You're each other's platonic soulmates.

As such, you're always trying to help each other in regards to your dating lives. When he told you about Michael, you were excited to see your best friend finally found his person. Michael was amazing and you two clicked instantly, to Colin's relief.

Your love life? Weeeell...

Colin and Michael were expecting you since twenty minutes prior, you texted them: THIS DATE SUCKS. IM COMING OVER.

So you're now sitting on Colin's couch in between the couple.

"So what happened this time?" Colin asks.

"All he talked about was football, specifically West Ham," that got Colin groaning, "He also looked my Instagram up and saw the pictures of you and I. Asked if we dated in the past, if you'd be able to get him tickets to the next Richmond versus West Ham game."

"You know you can archive the pictures of us so people-"

"No. I'd never do that to you, Col. It's like I'm ashamed of you and I'm not."

Colin gives a small smile and nod of appreciation, "Thanks, babe."

"Maybe you can set her up with one of your teammates," Michael suggests.

A lightbulb went off in Colin's head and you immediately said, "Don't."

"He's available."

"It'll be weird!"

"No, it won't!"

"Isn't he a dickhead?"

"Not as much anymore!"

Michael waved in front of you and Colin, "What's going on?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands, "Kill me."

Colin snickers, "Y/N's celebrity crush before I got into the league was Jamie Tartt. When she found out he was being lent to Richmond, she freaked out. Made a complete fool of herself by tripping in front of him and getting a bloody nose."

"Ooohh. That's pretty bad." Michael says, wincing.

"It was so mortifying!" you cry out, "There's no way he'd want to date me after that disaster!"

"He might not even remember it," Colin says reassuringly.

"I don't want to risk it," you turn to Michael, "Michael, tell him it's a bad idea."

Michael looks to his boyfriend, "Do you vouch for Jamie?"

Colin nods, "I do, actually. He's completely turned his act around. He can still be a prick sometimes, but it's not as bad as it was when he first joined the team."

Michael focuses back on you, "You should go for it."

You immediately stand up, "Nope. I'm not making myself out to be a fool again. No thanks! I'm out!"

_____________________

"Hey, Jamie," Colin rushes up to Jamie as he exits his car.

Closing the door behind him, Jamie responds, "Yeah, mate?"

"You're not seeing anyone right?"

"No," Jamie replies with furrowed brows, look of confusion.

"My best friend, Y/N, she's beautiful, funny, and smart and think you and her would be a great match." Colin holds out his phone, showing Jamie a really great candid picture of you that he took when you two went to dinner months ago.

Jamie nods at the picture. You were, indeed, very beautiful. The way the sun hit your skin made you look angelic, "She's...nice."

Colin rolls his eyes, "One date. That's all I ask."

"Why me though?" Jamie still looks a bit confused, "Why not Bumbercatch or Isaac?"

"I just think you and Y/N would fit really well. She's been having a rough time with dating so I figured you'd show her how she should be treated."

To be fair, Jamie was thinking about getting back into the dating scene. He finally got over Keeley, accepting that they'd just be better off as friends. You seemed like a decent person, from the few things Colin mentioned. Might as well, right?

"Fuck it. Sure."

Colin fist bumped the air, "Yes! You won't regret it. I'll make the plans. You just show up."

"Yeah, yeah, alright."

_______________

You show up to Ola's, a place you've been to before. As soon as you walk in, Colin and Michael are there.

"I need to preface this and say you can't be mad at me," Colin says.

You narrow your eyes at him, "What did you do?"

"It'll be fine. I promise. Michael and I will be on the other side of the restaurant if you need anything, but you won't, because it'll be great."

"But if it goes wrong, it was definitely all his doing," Michael says, pointing to Colin.

Colin grimaces, "Thanks, babe." He takes your hand and leads you towards the back corner where Jamie fucking Tartt was sitting.

You immediately give Colin a look and he pushes you towards him, murmuring, "It'll be fine!"

You slowly approach the table and Jamie looks up, giving you a polite smile as he pockets his phone.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," he offers his hand out.

"I know," you say as you shake his hand, "I'm so sorry Colin roped you into this. You really don't have to be here if you don't want to."

He shrugs, "It's fine. Been meanin' to get back into the dating game. Besides, if things don't really work out, we get free dinner and drinks out of it, yeah?"

Your brows shot up, "Colin's paying?"

Jamie nods, "He said he would."

You smirk and gesturing for a server. He smiles at you, "Would you like to start with drinks?"

You nod, "Yes, we'll have your most expensive bottle please."

It's now Jamie's brows that shoot up and he looks at you in surprise. When the server leaves to get the drinks, you lean in and said, "It's payback," you sigh as you sit down.

"So...you weren't too keen on going on a date with me then?" he asks awkwardly.

You suddenly look mortified, "No, no! That's not it at all it's-I-ugh!" you slump back in your chair. You let out a deep breath and sit up again, "Alright, so I believe two years ago, you and I actually met before and I made a complete fool out of myself because I tripped and ate the pavement. I busted my lip, there was lots of blood. Not a pretty sight or a cool thing to do in front of your celebrity crush."

Jamie smirks, "I'm your celebrity crush?"

You sit there in silence, mentally cursing yourself and Colin for making you go through this embarrassment again. You stand, "Right, okay, I've embarrassed myself enough. I'm leaving."

Jamie rushes to a stand, "No, please, don't. I'm only teasin' ya. It's nothin' bad, I promise. You're-You're very cute when you're flustered."

"Thanks," you murmur.

Luckily, the server came back with the most expensive bottle of wine. As soon as he poured your glass, you began downing it. Jamie watches you in amusement.

"Sorry, I just need some liquid courage to get through this."

Jamie leans forward, resting his arms on the table, "How about this, we just forget who I am for tonight. I'm not Jamie Tartt, the most amazing striker in the league. Just Jamie, a nervous lad on a date with a beautiful girl."

"You're nervous?" you ask in shock.

He shrugs, "It's been a while since I've gone on a proper date. Kinda forgot how to do this sort of stuff."

"Pft, I've gone on many dates and so far, you're the best one."

"Yeah? Tell me about 'em."

And that's how dinner goes. Over another glass and eventually over some food, you tell Jamie about your past dates. He tells you about some ridiculous things he's done with the guys when Coach Lasso was around. It was nice. It was nice knowing that Jamie wasn't here because he wanted to get close to Colin. He was there because he wanted to. You assumed he was interested in you by the way he flirted with you throughout the nice. So maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Once dinner was over, Colin came over with a pout, "Did you guys really have to order the most expensive items here?!"

"That's what you get for tricking me like that," you boop his nose and Michael snickers as he weaves his fingers through Colin's.

"But it went alright, yeah?" he looks at you and Jamie.

"I'd say so," Jame puts his hand on your lower back, "We're, uh, actually gonna head to a pub for more drinks."

"Oh! Well, uh, I think Michael and I will head on home then."

You don't want to give Colin the satisfaction just yet, so you say, "I'll text you later when I'm home."

"Sounds good," he says and pulls at Michael's hand, "Let's go, babe."

Looking over his shoulder, Michael gives you a wink and a thumbs up.

You snort and then turn to Jamie, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, love." and you two head out onto more drinks, more talking, and, hopefully, more dates after this.

[annab-nana]

This one is just from me.

Stargazing with Eddie from his van (or like on top of the hood off his van) while Eddie is still on the run from season 4🥺 and them just being soft and shit🥺

this idea sounds so cute, but i think i made it more bittersweet than i intended, whoops

warnings: not proofread, mentions of drugs/drug dealing

❀ masterlist ❀

you weren't proud of your past, but with the cards you had been dealt in life, you weren't left with many options. though, the words drug dealer were still thrown in your face by those with nothing better to do with their lives—carol perkins and her posse—it wasn't something you had done in ages. for you, it was only a way to make ends meet until you could find something better. however, that time of your life did give you something good.

eddie.

before him, you had never met someone you connected with so instantly. you weren't a believer of soulmates or that there was someone out there that was your other half until you met him. he understood you so effortlessly. he matched you perfectly. he was everything you had ever hoped for and more. he had always been there for you and now it was your turn to be there for him.

since the whole town was looking for eddie, you were also on their radar. luckily, you knew how to hide in the shadows and slip through without being noticed when you went to rick's. this was the only time you were happy that you ever delved into dealing. you'd never felt relief like you did when you saw eddie's van hidden in the forest near rick's.

your head rested against his shoulder as his arm curved around you to hold you close. ever since you showed up, he hadn't let you go. you soaked up the peace you had with him now. it was just you and him on the hood of his van, staring up at the stars. crickets and frogs sounded through the woods. tree branches moved with the wind. eddie's heartbeat and warmth comforted you more than ever. you had never felt so serene.

that was before the nagging thought of the situation you were in came back.

"eddie," you started, a heavy weight in your voice, "what are we goin-"

he cut you off by pulling you on top of him and kissing your lips. when he pulled away, his eyes carried deep sadness and despair in them.

"for tonight, is it okay if we don't talk about it?" he asked softly. "all i want to think about right now is you."

your eyes danced all over his face for a moment before you nodded. with everything that was going on, the least you could be right now was his comfort. you didn't know how much longer you would have to be that for him.

remember to support writers & reblog :)

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tag list: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast @daisyridleyss

[heirtotheempire]

I know this is a bit of a touchy subject right now, but I want to discuss the differences between creating alien species and making them look non-human, versus simply having bad makeup. Because there is a distinction! Putting it all under a read more because it got a bit longer then intended😵‍💫

For starters, none of this criticism has anything to do with the actors. This is purely directed towards Disney's makeup department. I think the actors fit the bill appearance-wise, end of story.

Hera and Thrawn, in short, do not look all that great in terms of facial makeup. And as someone who adores these characters, it is frustrating! Disney, one of the largest entertainment companies on Earth, couldn't find the time, budget, or artists to work on the appearances of two main characters in this show they've been building up to for years.

Personally, my main problem with it is the lack of contouring. I've been saying this to my friend for weeks as well as mentioned it in reblogs on and off, but neither Hera or Thrawn have any sort of contouring done to enhance their face shapes. There is no emphasis on the cheekbones, or for Thrawn's forehead bumps, none of it. They rely on the actors' natural facial structures to do the work for them. Which, if it was cosplay or otherwise in person, is fine. But with studio lights, it causes a washed-out look, especially depending on where the light is coming from. To combat this (in an acting setting), makeup artists emphasize things such as the eyebrows and the cheeks and especially any wrinkles, to help bring out any facial expressions made.

How does this differ from aliens being, well. Aliens! Considering we don't have a real baseline for what real life aliens would look like, it's only fair to allow filmmakers to go wild with speculation, even if it's off-putting. But that isn't what the issue is here. The aliens we're focusing on here, Twi'leks and Chiss, do have similar facial structures to humans. They're humanoids! So their faces would reflect light and cast shadows just as much as a human face would. By all accounts, make aliens freaky looking, but basic rules of light still apply. We should be able to clearly see Thrawn's cheekbones and forehead bumps without having to pull out a magnifying glass, something that is possible via, you guessed it, contouring!

Also, considering this is fiction, things looking bad is more of a reflection on the effort being put into the show than anything else. They could have done more but chose not to. Star Trek has some fantastic examples of humanoid aliens being distinctly alien without being poorly designed (I've been watching TNG and it is quite fun!). As said before, I'm all for freaky looking aliens. But bad design and bad makeup ruins that. What is and isn't bad design and makeup does fall into a more subjective range, I won't shy away from that truth. But I cannot get over the lack of contouring in a show that can be so brightly lit! Disney's shooting themselves in the foot here!

At the end of the day this is a television show though. Lets not get mad at people who do or do not like the makeup, and people are allowed to critique it as much as others are allowed to enjoy it. No one is any less of a fan for not liking the Ahsoka show, and no one is less of a fan for loving the show. I've seen some... very nasty things in the tags in relation to this specifically as well as for the whole show. Not very fun.

To end this on a lighter note, here's a very wonderfully done makeup job on a cosplayer! I don't know how to make the embedded stuff go away whoops😭

[backgroundbaker]

Haunted: Fic 1 for @remadoramicrofics

This one ended up being more Teddy than Remadora, whoops. Next one should have more Remus and Tonks in it. Also, sorry for any mistakes, my proof-reading skills are shocking.

.............

The off-handed comments people would make about his likeness to his parents had worn him down over the years. He remembers being five years old and excitedly changing his nose, proud to show off his work, only to be bombarded by tales of all the noses his mum did. He remembers being 7 and trying tea for the first time, deciding he liked it strong with just half a spoon of sugar, which he quickly learnt is how his dad liked it. Rather than being the nice sentiment he was sure the comments were intended to be, he found it all very annoying. It had gotten even worse when he started school, but by then he had learnt the best response was to force a smile and make some appropriate reply.

"Your mum was a Hufflepuff too!" That's cool, I hope I enjoy it.

"Your dad was a prefect as well!" That's great, I hope I do a good job.

"Oh, neither of them were a head student" There's always got to be a first in the family.

"They'd be so proud." Thanks.

It was inescapable. Their ghost-like presence in his life lingered on, regardles of whether he wanted it to or not. If they had been real ghosts, he could have gotten to know them, could have determined for himself the kind of people they were. He would have been able to judge whether the weight of expectation he carries is a fair burden to bear. He'd have been able to ask them if they really were proud of him. Instead, he is haunted by the shadows of two people known to him only through fragments of other people's memories.

Sometimes, he is the vessel by which they haunt other people too. He can feel the sad stares everytime he changes the colour of his hair or the shape of his face. He can sense the sorrowful looks when he pulls an expression that, he is told, is just like his dad's. The Weasleys are the worst for it, he knows they don't mean to be, but it's like they can't help themselves.

The one thing he'd like to know about his parents is the one thing no-one ever tells him. What were they like together? He wants to be able to picture what life would have been like for him had they been there. He wants to imagine the sort of couple they were. He hears so little on that front he wonders if they ever really were together or if he had just materialised from the ether.

.....

"Ah, young love," his gran teases him once, after he has said goodbye to Vic. She had come round for lunch that day and had stayed till dinner.

"I wouldn't call it that, Gran."

"No, I know that look," she says with a fond smile. (He was unaware he was doing a look.) "It's the same way your dad used to look at your mum."

His gran's words take him aback. Despite being the one closest to his parents in their final year, she very rarely talks about them. Sensing he may have an opportunity, he asks a question he's been dying to have answered.

"Did he love her, then?"

She looks momentarily surprised before replying. "Yes, of course he did. For all your father's faults, I could never deny he loved your mum. Very much so. And she loved him too."

The only response he can think to give her is a nod.

His gran talks to him a bit more about his parents' relationship after that. He sums it up in his head as a deeply loving mess. He no longer tries to imagine what his life would have been like had they been in it, unsure what would have won out of the deep love or the mess. He does, though, make the conscious effort when he starts dating Vic to not allow his parents' relationship to haunt his.

[hotchnerobsessed]

Housewarming - Part 2

Fem!Reader x Hotch | When people start showing up to your house, JJ pulls you aside to save you from any unwanted teasing from the rest of the team.

Warnings: 🤭+😜 Fluffy post-intimacy with Hotch (allusions to smut but nothing descriptive)

Word Count: 1502

This is just a blurb to follow up Part 1 because I had this idea for the perfect ending that I wish I’d thought of earlier 😂 (It ended up being a little longer than I intended so I don’t know if it’s still considered a blurb..whoops!)

PREVIOUS

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

**********

Smoothing out your dress, you giggled as Aaron wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Sliding your hands along the front of his shirt, you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him, unable to contain the smile that spread across your face. As his hands slowly slid further down your back, you raised an eyebrow at him.

Smirking, he admitted, “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Aaron, we literally JUST..”

“Oh I know,” he stopped you mid-sentence, “and I’d do it again if we had time.”

You could feel heat rising in your cheeks once more, because the truth was, you would love nothing more than round two. Instead, you rolled your eyes and teased, “you’re insatiable.”

Laughing softly, he leaned down to kiss you tenderly and whisper against your lips, “only for you” before pulling back and winking.

The deep exhale that left your lips made that beautiful smile of his flash across his face, and you felt the butterflies in your stomach come to life. Just as you felt the tension beginning to build again, both of you imagining calling off the party just to spend more time together, you were snapped out of your daydream by the sound of the timer on the oven.

“Duty calls,” you said through a giggle, fully aware of just how close you both were, at the very least, to a heavy make-out session.

He reluctantly loosened his grip on your waist, but his eyes lingered on you as you made your way across the kitchen. It was the small things, like making a few items for a potluck, or waking up with your hair mess, or watering the flowers in your front yard, or doing arts and crafts with Jack, that had him falling for you over and over and over again.

It took him a moment to get his head back onto the task at hand, as the overwhelming love he felt for you finally settled deep in his chest.

As the two of you finished the preparations for the party, setting out the meatballs, and the pasta salad in that glass dish that started it all, you gave one final look around the space. Aaron by your side, his arm resting comfortably around your waist, both of you took in all the work you’d done. You hadn’t gone all out, but there were a few decorations, and flowers set up around the kitchen, dining area, and family room. You’d also set up a backdrop with some joke props and a Polaroid camera so you could take some silly photos to remember your special day.

Squeezing your hip lovingly, Aaron kissed the side of your head before speaking, “it looks amazing. You did great, sweetheart.”

Smiling up at him, you stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips with yours, before thanking him for all his help. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” your eyes smiled as you spoke, “that’s why we make such a great team.”

Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss to your lips, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Just then, you heard a vehicle pulling into the driveway, and you felt excitement rise in your chest. “They’re back!”

Letting go of your waist, he smiled as you excitedly made your way across the front entrance to the door. Pulling it open, you were greeted with Jack running up the front walkway and into your arms as you crouched down. “Did you have fun at the park with Henry?”

“I did!! We saw a puppy, and we had to ask nicely, but the lady said we could pet him. He was SO SOFT. Mommy, Daddy, I want a puppy.”

You looked back at Aaron, who had slowly sauntered behind you, and gave him a cheeky grin; you’d talked about it before, but hadn’t got far in the conversation. Maybe now it was time to re-visit it.

“A puppy would be fun, wouldn’t it buddy?”

All he could do was nod enthusiastically, looking back and forth between you and Aaron.

“Come give me a hug, little man,” Aaron said, clearly trying to change the subject, as he crouched down and reached his arms out to Jack.

As father and son got caught up about their other park activities, you stood up to greet JJ and Will. Giving Will a quick hug, you welcomed him to your home, and thanked him for helping look after Jack. “Any time! We love that little guy.” Smiling softly at his words, you glanced over at JJ before she wrapped you in a big hug, as Will shut the door behind them.

As JJ began to pull away from the hug, she motioned with her head for you to follow her. Slightly confused, you gave Aaron a quick glance. He raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what you two were off to talk about in secret. Shrugging softly, you finally turned away from him and followed her lead around the corner, taking a couple steps down the hallway.

“JJ, what..” you began to ask, but you trailed off as you noticed her eyes flickering between you, and down at your neck.

Giggling softly, she suggested, “might want to grab your makeup bag and cover that bad boy up.”

Reaching your hand up, you pressed on the area she had been glancing at and immediately felt the tender spot on the side of your neck. As your eyes grew wide and your face flushed, you couldn’t help the embarrassed laugh that escaped your lips. JJ laughed right along with you, and you were sure Aaron would be even more curious about what you were taking about as the sound of your laughter trailed down the hallway.

Taking a step past her and towards the bathroom, she followed behind you. As you flipped on the bathroom light and began searching through your collection of makeup products, JJ leaned against the doorframe, a knowing smile on her face.

Dabbing some concealer on the tip of your finger, you gently patted it into place. As the redness slowly disappeared, you thanked her as you glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

“Just tell me which couch to avoid,” she teased.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, as you leaned on your outstretched arms on the counter in front of you and dropped your head, shaking it lightly. Looking back over at her, you smiled softly as she reached her arms out to you. Stepping into her embrace, you pulled her tight and thanked her again.

“No problem. I’m so happy for you two. I couldn’t imagine a person who compliments Hotch better than you.” Pulling back from her hug slightly, you smiled, pure joy washing over you. “And Will was right earlier, we really do love that little guy. So does Henry. We’re happy to look after him any time you and Hotch need some.. alone time..” She winked at you and you laughed again.

“Well, same goes for you and Will. You just say the word and I’d be more than happy to take the kiddos for the day,” you offered, and she smiled back at you.

Motioning with her head once more, you followed her back down the hallway to the family room. In no time at all, Aaron’s eyes were glued to yours, and all you could do was bite your lip to stop the smile from spreading too far across your face.

As you stepped beside him, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You spoke quietly, your eyes trained on Jack and Henry playing with some of Jack’s new toys on the floor, “It’s a good thing you said you didn’t care if people knew, because she knew.”

Snapping his head down to look at you, you could tell he was fighting to keep the surprised look off his face. “How?”

“Let’s just a say a little bird.. a little, red bird, on the side of my neck, gave us away.”

The same bashful smile you’d tried to hide mere seconds earlier, he was now trying to suppress on his own face. His way of hiding it was against the top of your head, and as the smile finally faded, he kissed you lovingly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against your hair.

“It’s okay. But I told her we’d watch the kids next time her and Will wanted some time to themselves,” you admitted, “it only seemed fair.” Looking up at him, you both smiled as he nodded his head in agreement, and placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Just as he did, the boys had looked up at you to get your attention and show you what they’d been playing with. A collective, “Ewww!! Gross!!” echoed through the room as the two of them covered their eyes and looked away. All you and Aaron could do was look at each other and smirk, before full-belly laughs erupted throughout the room.

[roses-in-the-shade]

Submas Born By Death AU Part 4

Want to go back to the beginning? Here's the link to Part 1!

Previous post? Here's Part 3!

So how does PLA happen? Like this:

Arceus spotted a wild Ghost Ingo

Arceus looks at the mess that is Hisui a couple hundred years in the past and comes up with a GENIUS idea.

Hear Arceus out. Nobody really knows about Ingo. Ingo will only be missed by a few people. Arceus SWEARS he'll put him back when he's done. No, really.

Arceus: kidnaps Ghost Ingo

"Lost soul-"

"My apologies, but I was never lost. Perhaps there's been a misunderstanding."

"AHEM. Lost soul. I propose a deal to thee. I wilt gift upon thee a new living corse for yourself, so yond thee may liveth a happier life with thy family, nay longer did force to encave from thy peers.."

"I find that I am rather content as things are, actually."

"IRRELEVANT. In exchange, thee wilt assist me and mine did select hero to unfucketh a time paradox in ancient Sinnoh."

"What. No. I am not agreeable to these terms."

"Too bad. YEETETH." (I don’t actually intend to write it talking like this. But this is funny too. Also, Shakespearean translator is very useful.)

Ingo gets to be alive, but at what cost. :')

PLA resumes as normal.

Ingo still doesn't have his memories in PLA. Since his memories prior to Hisui are bound to his very soul, rather than stored in his new neuropaths in his new physical brain, he's unable to remember anything without something familiar to jostle them loose.

Arceus: "WHOOPS *looks away* I'm sure that'll fix itself. Maybe."

Meanwhile, in modern day Unova, Emmet one day wakes up without Ingo's familiar presence to be found anywhere. (He has to urgently hire another Subway Boss under the guise of overwork.)

Emmet finally mourns his brother, who technically died the day they (he) were born.

Their parents believe that Ingo finally moved on, content that Emmet found a stable and happy path in his life. Emmet refuses to believe that. They worked towards everything together. Ingo was convinced there was no End terminal in Emmet's life and in his own unlife. Emmet is ABSOLUTELY certain that something happened to Ingo. He just has no idea what. And he has no idea how to find him. How do you track down a ghost?

The Pearl Clan find Ingo passed the fuck out in the Icelands because it literally never occurred to him to seek shelter. Or eat food for that matter. He is a very confused, very lost man. And he is a puzzle and enigma to his rescuers.

For once, he is now rightfully the local cryptid of the clan. Or maybe just Hisui in general. Man does not know how to live like a human being and is somehow more comfortable interacting with pokemon. He has glowing silver eyes, what in the FUCK-

Arceus: "Oh shit maybe there's drawbacks to using divine powers for creating a human body for a ghost"

Bla bla bla, Ingo becomes warden, meets protag, red sky incident, yada yada yada, this happens over the course of about maybe three years. Don't worry about the timeline for now. :)

Next post? Here's Part 5!

[thorarms]

Sorry i was referring to ur post hating on how mobius called loki a man of action. Why can't loki be also a man of action he grew up around THOR. Also maybe its a new thing loki is letting show instead of being cautious. He is the god of mischief and chaos after all

Ok ive taken a couple of days to have a think and give you a proper answer.

In short, because it's lazy and lets the writers avoid having to write loki with any consistent character traits.

Long answer below the cut

I have a lot of semi connected thoughts about this and this post might end up a bit of a ramble, uh so sorry i guess.

I think it's important to remember that loki as a marvel character has existed since the 1960s, and thus has 60 or so years of characterisation already there. Over the years this has varied a bit due to many different writers and their different visions for their stories, but they tend to stay fairly consistent. Loki is a villian (or is perceived as one by others), he plans elaborate schemes usually with the end goal of the destruction of asgard and/or thor, and he tends to play the long game. In short, he's been consistently characterised as a much more methodical and yes, cerebral character than thor.

In addition, theres 11 years of specifically mcu loki characterisation, which was originally constructed from the loki we see in the comics. This is the baseline of mcu lokis character, and thus should still be there in other stories and adaptations.

What's actually interesting to me though, is that loki HAS been shown as a man of action before. In Thor 2011. Specifically at the end of the movie, after his entire life has fallen apart at the seams and he's in the middle of an emotional breakdown. His actions get more impulsive as the movie progresses, and it ends with him trying to destroy Jotunheim, goading thor into an argument and a huge fight, then letting go of the bifrost and falling to his assumed death.

What makes this work and still feel in character is that lokis impulsive and reckless desicions come from his emotional instability. The viewer gets to see his facade break and watch him deteriorate from slowly and meticulously planning to ruin thors coronation and stop him from taking the throne, to deciding on the spur of the moment to point the bifrost at Jotunheim and, afterwards, decide to let go of gungnir and plummet into the void (i love this movie so much can you tell).

All of this really is to say that loki CAN be reckless and impulsive just like thor. It just has to be well written and considered. And season one of the show very much was Not That.

With the gift of hindsight, it's been very clear that the writers of season one were not interested in maintaining any of lokis previous characterisation and, given what we've seen so far in the trailer, im not exactly holding out hope that season two will be any different.

The last thing i wanna mention is that the way you phrased your ask, with loki deciding himself to become less cautious, is quite interesting to me. Im sure you dont need me to tell you that loki isnt real, hes a fictional character and thus has no autonomy of his own. Every thought, word and action was a deliberate decision from the writers and actors creating these stories (often with their own preconceptions and biases of the character subconsciously thrown in). What im trying to get at is that ultimately, loki as a character is a vehicle for telling an aspect of a story. And it's the writers job to tell that story well. And if loki suddenly has a change of heart and decides to start acting the complete opposite of his former self, the writers should have a damn good reason for choosing to do that. Otherwise, it's just poorly written. And frankly i dont want to watch a poorly written show.

Whoops this was way longer than i intended im so sorry anyways i hope this answers your question about why i wrote a silly post about a throwaway line in a trailer for a show im probably not even going to watch. Probably.

[sga-owns-my-soul]

WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYYYY have a selection of the most arcane runes, dealer’s choice on the titles:

🎢🔧🪩🆘🔜

i didn't realize how hard this interpretation part would be 😂

for 🎢 - i haven't written the scene yet so i'll just tell u about it but in McKay Takes The Team To WEM rodney takes them to an amusement park and john makes them go on all the Fun Rides (the ones that are super sketchy and rodney is sure they'll die on (there's one rollercoaster they're gonna ride where people actually did die in real life and rodney is only going to find out after john makes him ride it)(i promise they'll be okay tho this fic is pure fluff)) and it's gonna be super cute

for 🔧- John wasted no time in finding out what was really going on. He called Lorne to his office. Evan was a good second in command, and always put the well being of the base and personnel above all else. He had been just as angry with John as everyone else, but thankfully he didn’t let it interfere with work.

“Colonel,” Evan said shortly as he entered his office. John made a gesture for him to sit down.

“Okay, I’m just going to come straight out and say this. I did not cheat on Rodney. Grace has apparently been spreading around rumours that her and I are having an affair. This is unequivocally false, and I would like you to sit in on my meeting with her as an unbiased third party to help me get to the bottom of this.” (from Rodney Hears A Rumour)(this one has so much angst but it's also cute)

for 🪩- also haven't written this part but there's a scene in McKay Takes The Team To WEM where he takes them to a really fancy bar/club place for dinner and they're all gonna dress up and there's gonna be some light dancing (ronon and teyla are gonna get excited by the lights and music and drag john and rodney to the dance floor) it's gonna be cute

for 🆘- "Rodney, something's wrong," Teyla gasped as she pushed Torren the rest of the way out, and Rodney was so focused on the beautiful crying baby in front of him, it took him a second to realize there was way more blood than there should be.

"Oh god, okay that can't be goood, oh god, okay, okay we just have to... uhh..." Rodney was desperately trying to think up anything he could, anything to fix this situation, but he was so far outside his skill set.

"Rodney, please," she groaned, grabbing his arm and squeezing it.

"Teyla, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong, I don't know how to stop the bleeding," Rodney said, the fear and desperation dripping off his words. His hands were covered in blood, and he couldn't see anyway for him to stop internal bleeding that he couldn't even see the cause of. (this is from Rodney Raises Torren and it's super angsty whoops)

for 🔜- "Thanks, I guess, but this would've been helpful to know years ago!" Rodney tried to jump out of bed, and John and Radek both tried to keep him where he was.

"Woah, Rodney, Beckett will have my head if he sees you out of bed so soon, you gotta rest still," John tried but Rodney just glared at him.

"We just found out that not only is the city sentient, Sheppard, but she is also capable of much more than any of us realized. Do you have any idea what this means? Do you have any idea how important this discovery could be? I mean, just think what we could learn from her!" (from Team Is Everything which is gonna be the first of a series)

these ended up being a lot longer than i intended lmao whoops but thank you for the ask!!! this is actually a lot of fun more people should do this!!

[tothedarkdarkseas]

Hello i have read your entire collection of fics and i gotta say. Wow . what a Talent for the Grime. im not a 2doc girlie unfortunately but I've been softened. won over. I can now see 2doc and go "well that's very interesting. I wanna see where this author goes w it" instead of the general feeling of he would Not fucking say that. bc the truth isthat maybe he would . say those things he says in your fics etc. You understand. Most of all i have an appetite for grime and i have had it Saciated. i saved the plastic beach fics for the end bc i knew they'd be the ones id be more predisposed 2wards and while i was right i will say -> paula fic sweep. i love ms cracker she's such a cunt. as a dyke well all i can say is come 2 bed sweetheart your horrible mean gross standoffish attitude is wasted on a rockstar like stuart. I haven't read a hotter woman in a while Congrats. um but yeah also the plastic beach fics i left some comments bc oysters got to me Bad i never fully felt the impact of plastic beach from a murdoc perspective w such INCISIVENESS and POWER just the fucking spiraling horror of putting yourself in that position out of desperation and PRIDE??? god. GOD. and then the fic you have pinned. the fic that.made me check out your ao3. god . ive been in bad relationships that hurt me greatly and i had to keep seeing the.person. It was So cathartic. the mixing of 2ds identity w murdocs the enmeshment the. The

sorry 4.the.long ask im a little drunk but you HAVE to know you have got a NEW BIG FAN

i wanna see.more of your noodle and cyborg noodle :( noodlez mean so much 2me and 2d and noodle in seething coast got to me so fucking bad. russ' small role also got me weeping but not as much as 2d and bday girl noodle ending did. your 2d is perhaps the most interesting read ive seen on the character so far .

This message brought so much joy to my night, as did your comments on AO3! I apologize for my lateness; I absolutely intend to respond to them over there (as far as my intentions go for the foreseeable future I will always respond to comments or asks, so long as anyone is kind enough to stop by! It just takes a few days sometimes, whoops) but I'm so enchanted by the ephemeral nature of the drunk message, I've got to let you know I've seen it, haha.

I love the sentence "unfortunately, I am not a 2Doc girlie" as it feels quite backwards from the other side of it. I would say, being someone who has written exclusively 2Doc stories for their fanfiction career and runs a bizarrely devoted 2Doc blog years longer than they ought to have, being a 2Doc girlie is an unfortunate thing to be. I wouldn't blame you having apprehensions! If you can believe it, when I got into Gorillaz I would avoid the shipping element altogether and skip past any 2Doc that popped up along my way; I also felt a sense of... neutrality to profound disinterest toward it, and had things gone differently after I may have bowed out without any lasting words exchanged and moved forward along the fandom line, as so many do. I felt some sense of shame, I think, to admit I was reshaping the characters by my own wants, but I accept now that this is what Gorillaz fandom is; the nearer to canon one can go in tone, the better, but there's a point where the road forks (splinters into four forks, and four more further down, really) and for the sake of your own stability and consistency, you have to make a decision about that character's path. Anyway, sorry, I'm rambling! Hopefully that doesn't bore you to tears, but your message made me think about it all again, and I enjoy doing so!

Thank you for reading everything, good gravy, it's a tall order and I'm just-- I am beyond flattered. I am beyond humbled. I am moderately embarrassed by some of the early writing, but I'm incredibly touched nonetheless. I am especially grateful for Paula to make her way into a loving home, biting and spitting all the way. Stuart is not and will never be equipped for the job. ("It's rotten work, especially if it's you," only Paula's not asking him to do it and she's sure as shit not offering it in return. God, I love that woman.)

Thank you. I don't know if it's too sappy and too sincere to say, but I think we grow in sincerity, I think we are emotionally and mentally fed by honesty even to a degree of discomfort, and so I swallow that embarrassment and say... you naming those stories, sharing your thoughts, sharing with me a connection and a sense of caring for Oysters, Ampersands, Seething Coast-- the stories that I cared most for, stories that drew the most from myself even when I tried to obscure it, stories that still sit close to the breast-- that is special. That really means more to me than a comical reply can express. I'm really glad that these scenes meant something to you and that they get to live in another person. That's the horror and the prize of writing, it's the thing you dread doing wrong and losing in the void; but to hear months or years later that it's found someone, and they felt something for it, and they're not embarrassed for you that you've stumbled through making something like this from these characters, that's all you can dream of. That's everything. It matters very much. I can't say I have anything new on the horizon for Noodle (...and I can't say what I have done in the past few months is anywhere near cresting the horizon) but this message gets my heart thu-thumping and has me mulling her over. Maybe one day we can revisit the mess again. If you'd like to listen, this song always makes me think of Stu and Noodle, specifically on that illusion of solid ground in the years after Plastic Beach. I listened to it sometimes to get in the mood to write them.

[campfire-collective]

hey!! I found the light house discussion to be very fascinating. I'm so glad you could find something to help you sleep. it's a process for sure but that's super cool and awesome. proud of you for working on helping yourself!

also it's super unique as well.. I've never heard of anything like this..?

i was wondering... i don't exactly understand when you two speak about the lighthouse. You said you bought it? but it's an idea?

I tried looking stuff up for it... is it a solo rpg you found? how did you come up with that idea to use it like that and do you have any suggestions for people who want to get into something like that?

i struggle with winding down for sleep and i really need more creative outlets so i'm super curious, but please, don't feel pressured to respond or anything. /srs /nm

I wish you the best of luck, as well, and I hope your night tonight is good :)

ohh okay i'll answer this one b4 i go to bed so i don't forget (n then good night to everyone because it is nearly 2am dear god when did THAT happen)

okay so i bought a game called "the lighthouse at the edge of the universe." if you want i can probably find a link for you. it's a journaling rpg, so basically it's a pdf (which i printed into a nice foldable little booklet that fits into my notebook) that has various prompts and things to sort of guide you to tell a story. e.g, you might flip a card that says what kind of event happens ("something needs to be fixed") and then roll a dice for outcome ("you fail"), and then you tell a little story based on that.

so i bought the game but obviously you cannot purchase an Idea. the lighthouse in my brain was free.

i have a BUNCH of solo rpgs bc i'm really into them (if u remind me i'll share some of my favorites bc i can't remember the names rn), and this one explicitly had the instructions "intended to be played before bed." being the good rule following autistic that i am (/lh), i obviously very eagerly went to bed on time to play it as soon as possible. match made in heaven.

i don't know how much i paid for it but these things tend to run under $10, and usually far cheaper. frankly i just snoop on itch.io bundles and snap things up when i can afford them. also drivethrurpg (i think that's what it's called?), but i use itch.io more.

using it as an innerworld experience tool came pretty naturally to me: it's a reflective game that i was already writing about myself and using to reflect my mood/etc., and i've always fallen asleep by thinking about stories. (i have/had maladaptive daydreaming traits. i never was fully madd, but definitely i veered close to it.)

if u want to use a solo rpg for innerworld things, my advice is to look for one that's specifically a journaling rpg, because some aren't. hearth has some more "crunchy" ones (i use that word very loosely because by their nature, all solo rpgs tend to be pretty soft). the qualities that make this work for me:

game is continuous (each entry takes place at the same lighthouse which i build and develop over time. that's a part of the game. there's no ending point, and there's not really a story.)

game doesn't focus on interpersonal interactions

game encourages you to use ur mood/etc. as prompts/inspiration (bc innerworld experiences are metaphorical, this helps it translate well)

lots of solo rpgs r free! they tend to use only a few things (my solo rpg bag has a notebook, where we write all of them, a d20, two d6, a coin, and a deck of cards, and that covers basically every game, barring the ones which use a tarot deck), and they span very wide genres. it's a lot of fun if you like that structured storytelling crunch.

ok this was longer than i meant whoops gn!

-sparrow

[erwinsarmrest]

(this is another anon) oh my god your answer about the scenario about if armin's and mikasa's genders were flipped blew my mind. gender dynamics are so weird.

also you shipping eremika makes me interested, as i don't really and i'm curious how you see it and if there's something about their relationship that i'm not appreciating (if you feel like talking about it, totally understand if not! just skip everything after this in that case.)

so one of the main things that prevents me from shipping them is how lopsided their relationship is (or was during most of aot). with mikasa being very VERY preoccupied with eren, and eren a lot less so with her and being annoyed with her a lot.

i remember that it was portrayed as eren being jealous of mikasa's strength and rejecting her affection because of that, and later on as not knowing how to accept that someone like her cares so deeply for him, and honestly i can very much buy that (though it was also at least some genuine annoyance at mikasa trying to decide things for him). i can even see eren maybe having romantic feelings back, (though by default i don't) just that these hang-ups prevented him from expressing affection to her most of the time and from connecting. but it's just that--to me it doesn't feel that they've been properly connecting. they love each other, but they're very out of step.

i find this dynamic very compelling, and wish it'd been properly explored, but to me that wouldn't have ended romantically. just explored the situation--how they've always loved each other but what it'd take for them to settle on a dynamic where they're more on the same page. probably with a lot of focus on mikasa as a character and dramatic near death experiences somewhere in between since this is aot.

so yeah, i'm wondering if i could look at it in a different way?

(btw i'm not even thinking about how'd i see it if mikasa was a guy, i didn't get enough sleep to expend the energy needed to process that.)

hey! this got longer than i intended whoops. anyways.

if you’re looking for someone to convince you of the eremika ship i’m probably not the best person to do that. i’m a multi shipper and ship mikasa with a lot of people, eren being the one i ship her with least. i think it stems mostly from the fact that i don’t really like eren all that much.

but the appeal i see in eremika comes mostly from comparing it to the other ackerman ships. i know there is some debate over whether the “ackerbond” is real or not so that could influence your opinion. but i see the “ackerbond” more of as the ackermans being an incredibly devoted and loyal family. that they act the way they do towards their loved ones because they’ve chosen them as their people, not because their brain “enslaves” them or whatever. so with my personal ackerbond explanation out of the way, i tend to enjoy very devoted, messy, and doomed ships (ie: ackerman ships: eruri, kenuri, eremika). so i like eremika in that aspect. i think i kinda forced myself to like eremika because i enjoy eruri and kenuri so much. all 3 relationships are so similar yet so different that it’s kinda hard to say you love one while hating the others. i think what turns me off of eremika so much is that eren is just… so mean to her.

i don’t think eremikas relationship is anywhere near healthy, i see it more as a trauma bond/codependence thing than a romance that can actually go anywhere. had circumstances been different i think they could have had a very beautiful relationship. i’m a sucker for childhood friends to lovers and i think that had they been able to grow up with their own families as good friends it could have grown into something really lovely. however, that wasn’t the case, with mikasa’s family dying violently, her living with the yeagers (who she viewed and loved as family), and then the yeager parents dying as well. the last thing she promised erens mom was that she’d take care of him, so i think her obsession with him is very valid in that case.

another layer to their relationship that i enjoy is the kinda “i love you - too late” aspect they’ve got going on. like mikasa obviously cares for eren a lot all throughout the series, and eren shows that he cares in pretty small ways. it’s like eren didn’t realize how much mikasa meant to him until he was faced with the fact that fate decided they couldn’t be together when he saw the future the end of season 3. and by the time eren realized his feelings for mikasa she had come to terms with the fact that they could never be together in a romantic sense. as i said before im a big fan of tragic, doomed relationships so i go enjoy right person/wrong time situations.

i agree with you that their relationship is very compelling and i wish it had more development. because it really seems one sided (on mikasas end) except for in a select few moments (the end of season 2, and eren revisiting their first meeting in season 4 to name a few)

i think that the ship could have been great, it checks all of my boxes in theory but in practice it falls a little short. i really only ship it because mikasa is one of my favorite characters and i think she deserves to be happy and eren makes her happy (most of the time. i have not forgiven him for making her cry with the whole “ you’re a slave and i’ve always hated you” nonsense). so ya i don’t really know if that helped you at all because as i said if you want to be convinced into liking them i’m probably not the person to ask. i’m a mikasa lover through and through though so i’m always happy to talk about her in any extent.

[purinfelix]

from the start ⋆𖦹⋆｡˚⋆ฺ

pairing: oscar piastri x childhood friend! reader summary: when you show up to your first day of work experience at McLaren, you're greeted by a friendly face and a whirlwind of old emotions warnings: none, just some awkward dialogue and a backstory i very vaguely hint at because i don't want to reveal it yet ... w/c: 2.6k

a/n: whew this ended up being WAY longer than I had intended it to be whoops. also! may or may not have relied on personal experience from living in a small aussie suburb and having awkward interactions like this DAILY. thinking of making a pt2 for this if it gets enough attention :"") hope u guys enjoy !!

you can read pt2 here !!

You hadn’t seen Oscar in 12 years, maybe even longer. 

And yet, here he was standing in front of you - much, much taller albeit. Words seemed difficult to form, the only thing you were certain of was that nothing you said could encapsulate the pure shock that swept over you upon locking eyes with the boy, if you could even call him that anymore. 

“Oscar.” Was all you could let out, breathy and a little incredulous. You were lucky though, as it was clear he was experiencing a similar wave of emotions. Your name tumbles out of his mouth and you’re almost snapped out of your daze by the fact that his voice has dropped about a thousand octaves from the last time you heard it. 

“It really is you,” he says, and you let out another gasp of disbelief as you watch his mouth curve into a smile. 

“You two know each other?” came the voice of your superior, who had just been showing you around the McLaren building - the place you had been assigned to for work experience, a requirement during your last year as an engineering student  - and was clearly eager to get on with it. 

“Yeah we, uhm, went to school together. When we were kids.” Oscar piped up, answering the question on your behalf with a polite tone that didn’t give much else away about how he felt about this, admittedly awkward, twist of fate. It also didn’t give away the fact that you two could hardly just be called ‘people who went to school together’ - although you chalked that up to him seeking to avoid any more questions. 

“Guess karting worked out for you, hey?” You were the worst at small talk, but something inside you was desperate not to let go of this opportunity chance had dropped into your lap, even if a stupidly obvious question was what it took to do so. 

He lets out a soft chuckle, easing the tightness in your chest, thank god. “Yeah, I guess you could say so.” He continues to laugh as he’s saying it, his eyes crinkling and cheeks flushing a little as he does. You’re so entranced watching the little movement in his expression, simultaneously so familiar and refreshing, that you hardly notice the blush spreading across your own face. 

Your superior, still standing behind you with his arms folded and a bored expression on his face, clears his throat loudly. You take it as your sign to go on with him for the rest of your tour, but it’s like your feet are stuck in place, your eyes stuck on Oscar’s. A wave of regret washed over you. 

Regret at not bothering to look at the social media accounts of the company you were applying to, because then you might’ve seen his face plastered all over them - although whether that would’ve changed your mind you’re less sure about. 

Regret at not wearing a better-ironed top, or fixing your hair properly because now you’re standing here in front of him, and his stupidly perfect hair, feeling a little bit ridiculous. 

But most of all, regret for not keeping up with him over the years, because then you might’ve been able to have a decent conversation instead of whatever this was. 

Finally, you managed to uproot your feet and crane your neck just enough to catch sight of your superior disappearing around the corner.  

“Well, I should probably get going.” You stuff your hands in the pockets of your pants and try your best to not move so damn awkwardly, but he just stands there and watches you. 

“Right, well, I’ll uhm, see you around I guess?” You still can’t get over how low his voice is now. Even a lower voice isn’t enough to hide the familiarity of his cadence though, cool and casual as always. 

You nod, already halfway down the corridor, mind racing with thoughts. But one whip of your head as you turn the corner tells you he’s looking back at you, mind racing all the same. 

---

Your first day at McLaren was nearing its end, and you had yet to tell anyone about the things that had happened between you two - mostly because you were sure no one would care for the childhood drama between one of their main drivers and some lowly engineering student, but partially because you weren’t even sure how to describe it to anyone. Your superior had made his stance on it clear by not having mentioned it since the morning’s awkward hallway encounter, although you leaned towards him having simply forgotten it. That would’ve been the preferred choice too given your dual worry at the potential of this ‘situation�� getting in the way of you and your work experience. 

Because if you were a car, and this job the road, then Oscar Piastri was a rock placed just precisely enough to send you hurtling into a sidewall. 

He really hadn’t been kidding about seeing you around too. You had bumped into him a subsequent four (and yes, you had counted) times. He was always there, in his bright orange jacket - in board rooms, chatting with other engineers, making the most of complementary snacks in the office kitchen. And whenever the two of you crossed paths he would only flash that smile, warm, polite, but not much more, which you were always a little delayed in returning just because of how off guard it caught you every time. And when he wasn’t there in person, he was plastered across walls next to his teammate. Almost every screen, or wall, or company-issued mousepad you came across had his face, familiar grin and perfect hair, and you couldn’t help but feel - for lack of a better word - haunted. You had yet to get used to the lifesize cardboard cutouts of him and his teammate that stood guard by most of the main entrances too. 

But you were determined, even when fate seemed to keep throwing you two together, weaving your paths across each other after years apart, not to let this distract you from what you were here to do. So it only seemed fitting, when you were packing up after your first day and about to head home, that your eyes locked with a familiar pair on your way out of the main exit. 

“Hey,” Oscar starts this time, pausing for a second before adding, “Again.” 

“You’re not stalking me or something, are you?” You say, pulling your backpack higher up on your shoulders solely for the sake of having something to do with your hands which you feel start to tremble. He laughs that damn laugh again, and your knees feel weak. 

“If anything, I should be the one asking you that.” He gets to the door first but doesn’t walk through it, large hands coming up to hold it open instead. He motions for you to pass through first and you do, albeit a little tentatively. “Headed home for the day?” 

“Yeah,” you say, hearing his shoes on the gravel as he jogs to catch up to you and you wait for a bit to let him before continuing. “Not looking forward to it though, I’m still figuring out the public transport here.” 

This gets his attention, evidenced by how his neck whips around to look at you, eyebrows slightly raised. “You’re taking public transport here?” You try to make out the tone of his voice, which is a mix of shocked, concerned, and slightly impressed. 

“Yeah?” You respond hesitantly. You scan his face for any sign of what his next words might be, hopefully, tips on how to figure out the train lines. But as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants, letting out a shy laugh, nothing can prepare you for what they are. 

“Do you uhm,” Even he’s unsure of what he’s about to say it seems, “Do you want a lift?” 

At this, you feel your palms grow a little sweatier, your pace a little slower. For the second time that day, the boy in front of you has rendered you incoherent. Even so, your mouth seems to be working faster than your mind. 

“I’d love that.” you hear yourself blurt out, to which he offers a grateful smile and begins to walk ahead of you, guiding you through the carpark. 

Finally, your mind seems to catch up to the situation at hand and begins weighing it up. More so, weighing up all the things wrong with your decision. You haven’t seen Oscar in over a decade and right now you should be considered nothing more than colleagues, who had only met today. Getting into his car might not be the safest idea, both for your nerves and your position, since you knew how fast gossip spread. You’d be letting him know where you lived too. 

But on the other hand, you didn’t know if you had the mental energy to stare at a map of the city. As you slipped into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car, offering him a smile of gratitude as he closed the door behind you, you were somewhat grateful for your fast mouth for once. Now, you just had to hope it would get you through the drive home. 

He lets you put the address of your apartment into his GPS before starting up. “So, engineering huh?” comes Oscar’s voice as he pulls out of the carpark. You can sense the awkward hesitation in his voice but appreciate his effort at keeping the conversation going, even though you feel your palms sweating at it. 

“Yeah, and uhm, for the record I had no say in being assigned to McLaren,” you say defiantly. “Plus, I didn’t even know you drove for them! Hell, I didn’t even know you still drove.” You’re rambling now, but whatever it takes to fill up the tense air in the car. 

“Ouch, I’ll try not to take that too personally.” 

“So do you want me to stalk you or not? You’re confusing me here Piastri.” He laughs, warm and smooth like honey. It’s been 12 years and it’s taken a coincidental work placement for you to realise this, but you’ve missed his laugh. 

“Just saying, keeping in touch wouldn’t have hurt. Especially after what you said to me the night before I lef-” 

“Anyways.” You cut him off stiffly because you know exactly what he’s going to say. He’s going to bring it up, your history, and you don’t exactly feel like digging it up - not now at least. Even so, he’s hitting you where it hurts and the worst part is you’re not sure if he’s aware he’s doing it at all, or whether he just wants to talk. Either way, you’re not going to let him. 

“You’re liking it here?” He tries to start up conversation again, and you find yourself going along with it. 

“Yeah, well I mean I’ve only been here a day so I can’t say much. But overall, I’m liking it. Everyone seems nice and I get a sense you guys have a real passion for what you do.” You turn to him as you speak, watching him nod at your words. With him watching the road it gives you a chance to take him in, how much he’s changed. 

His face has sharpened out, the round cheeks you once knew have now given way to a defined jaw which you watch move as he speaks. Your eyes travel to his hands, large, gripping the steering wheel firmly as he turns a corner. It’s hard to believe that he’s the boy you knew all those years ago. However, as you watch his excited expression as he tells you about all the antics he and the team get up to you’re reminded of him once more. That passion, that spirit, that joy he had always had for racing was still there, and stronger than ever. 

You think about those times, which seem so strangely distant now, when he would invite you to watch him race. How his face had lit up at the sight of you, and how quickly he would rush over to you after he won to gush about you being his ‘lucky charm’, helmet lines still imprinted on his flushed cheeks. How, even though neither of you were even in the same friend group, you always found yourself going along with him whenever you could - before and after school and even on weekends, when you found the time. How his passion for his sport, and the hours upon hours on which he had rambled to you about its logistics, was what first got you into engineering, which proved a passion of your own. 

But most of all, how much you’ve missed about his life. And how you can’t bear to tell him the reason you haven’t kept up with him since the day he left is because it would hurt too much to. To watch the life he’s made for himself, perfectly fine without you. 

Even so, you feel yourself smiling as you listen to him. And as weird as it sounds you feel yourself relax for what might just be the first time all day, sitting in his passenger seat. 

But, fate has never been your friend, as you’re reminded once Oscar pulls into your street and your heart sinks a little knowing your little moment has come to an end. He parks, impressively easily, and you go to unbuckle your seatbelt before he speaks up again. 

“Wait,” he stops you, before rummaging around in his pockets and pulling out a pen and a little notepad - you try not to laugh at him for the fact they’re both McLaren branded. You watch, confused, as he scribbles something down before handing it to you. 

You unfold your hand to reveal a slip of paper with his number written on it, smiling at the fact he’s written his name too - as if you would ever forget it. 

“Just in case, you know. If you ever need another lift,” he pockets the pen and paper, hand coming up to rub his nape shyly. He’s avoiding eye contact, it’s far too endearing, and your heart pace quickens. “Or, someone to talk to, about McLaren, that is.” 

“Thanks, for the ride and this,” you say, gesturing to the paper as you open the car door. He nods in response, eyes watching you carefully. The biting cold hits your skin as you walk to your apartment door, he hasn’t left yet though, since you can still hear the car engine humming behind you. 

You turn right before you get to the door, and see him saying something to you through the rolled-down window, though you can’t make it out from your distance. 

“What?” you shout out into the night air.

“I said, see you tomorrow Pip,” he repeats, louder. The childhood nickname hits you harder than anything, and it takes a while to muster up a response. 

“Right back at you, Oz.” You finally say, watching his face break into that familiar smile, only now it has shed its layers of politeness which have been replaced by sincerity, at the sound of his own nickname. At that, he rolls up his window and drives off, though you can make out the smile still on his face even as he turns the corner. You hardly notice the stupidly massive smile on your own face as you go to unlock your door, gripping the piece of paper in your hand tightly.

Work experience was shaping up to be a lot more exciting than you thought. 

[irrigos]

i forgot to post about this because I immediately got sick after (unrelated) but i played The Garden Embassy the other day!

It was fine. You get invited to a party at the titular Garden Embassy, which is the embassy in London for Britain's Surface colonies. The bulk of the story is at the party, where you have three different outfits you can switch between and three different qualities you can have, and you have to keep switching between combinations of qualities and outfits in order to talk to people/get certain info (the poet will only talk to you if youre wearing your frilly outfit and if you seem trustworthy, and he wants to try some sunlight, which you can only learn about if you wear the servants uniform and seem dutiful and then talk to the servants, etc)

it was kind of labor intsensive to go to the location where you can change outfits and then come back, but it didn't take any actions to travel or change, so i actually thought it was kind of a fun logic puzzle.

As for the actual STORY... tbh i thought it was pretty boring and inconsequential. They establish the Decorated Ambassador is the daughter of the governor of her colony (they never say which colony, but according to a comment I read on the forums, it's supposed to be Australia, which totally went over my head. Although there wasnt one governor of all of Australia until 1901, so i still dont know if I'm supposed to know this as a real historical figure or not), and she wants to see London. when you show her around, you can either encourage her to support her colony being tied to London, or encourage her to support the growing Revolutionary faction. Obviously I chose the latter, but nothing really... happens? She gives her speech to the embassy (because i supported revolution, her speech was like "Wow, London sure is a place unlike any other! Can't wait to go home so I can tell everyone about what it's like here!") and then she left and that was it? The story was over? The epilogue was you seeing the Ambassador off at the docks, so the story ends before there can be any result from your decision.

Also, the Ambassador kept mentioning her mother, which I thought was weird? Like, it's interesting that the Ambassador's mother was a native of whatever colony she's from, and not another colonist. But it felt strange for the Ambassador to keep bringing her up when we never learned anything more than that. Like, just knowing Law of Economy of Characters, it seems weird to bring up a new character we've never heard of, and then have it never culminate in anything. I know in real life someone might mention their mom a few times and there's no deeper significance to it, but this isnt real life! Someone chose to write these words, and to include all these references to the Ambassador's mother, but... why? What was added to the story by her inclusion? My guess is it was supposed to add more depth to the Ambassador's motivation for possibly being anti-colonialism, but that's not really expounded upon in the text. It's just kind of... there. idk it was just a curious element of the story that gave me pause!!!

Anyway this post got way longer than I intended. Whoops! But you know what im like

[the-gay-in-the-way]

The Way Home, Part One

The First is an Experiment

(This is a 5+1 fic within my new Superhero AU, I’m Still Standing/ISS.)

(It’s supposed to be, 5 Times Virgil Adopted Strays Without Telling Logan Beforehand, And 1 Time Logan Did The Same.)

(It’s lot of platonic Analogical, tho you could see it as romantic if you really wanted.)

(It’s your life, you do you fahm.)

(This is one of the more serious chapters in this particular fic, so sorry that it’s kind of emotional.)

(Some of the others will be more fluffy and fun, I think.)

(Also, as a small warning it’s really not graphic or anything don’t worry, there are some mentions and implications of both human experimentation and child abuse.)

(So, either be ready for that or don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable.)

(Like I said, its your life, you do you fahm.)

(Anyways, thanks for reading this, if you do, and I hope you enjoy the feelings.)

((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))

It had been years since Logan had last seen his best friend.

In that time, he hadn’t managed to find anyone else tolerable enough to take his place.

There had been many who’d tried.

All sorts of people who attempted to befriend the stone-faced genius in whatever ways they could.

Gifts and invitations to events.

Professions of love and affection in all matter of methods.

Attempts to learn more about him and share themselves in return.

There were even a few individuals who attempted to bond with him using their own genius intellects as some sort of connection between them.

But, in the end, nothing worked.

Logan rejected every single attempt.

Not because he couldn’t be friends with any of them.

On the contrary, he’d actually quite enjoyed spending time with a number of the people who’d vied for his attentions.

That wasn’t the problem.

The problem came from expectations.

From them.

And from himself.

Because they all expected to become his best friend one day.

To be closer to him than anyone else.

To stand above all others as the only person good enough to hold his complete trust and attention.

But that could never happen.

Because Logan had been spoiled.

Spoiled by an anxious young boy covered in makeup coated bruises.

Who’d asked him questions about his ideas and listened to him ramble on and on about whatever caught his interest, all while seeming completely and genuinely curious and interested in turn.

Who’d always remembered his birthday, even when his parents forgot, and learned alongside him how to bake a cake from scratch to celebrate each year.

Who’d helped whenever he was hurting and brought him comfort in his darkest of days.

He’d been spoiled by the kind boy with sharp eyes and soft smiles.

Who’d moved away as an orphan at the age of twelve.

Only to disappear completely at the age of sixteen.

He’d gone looking for him after that.

Of course he had.

The last message he’d received, through the specially made phone he’d crafted for his friend long before he’d moved, had simply said that he was feeling anxious around his new caretaker.

That he wasn’t sure why, but the man now caring for him made him want to run away and hide.

Logan had been concerned when he’d received no new messages after this.

Wondering why it was that his best friend wasn’t responding to his own sent messages for the next two days.

And when the news declared him missing…

Logan had, admittedly, panicked.

He’d been ready to invade his friend’s new home and demand answers of the man meant to watch over him.

But his parents had stopped him.

Reminding him that he could do more good for his friend by staying safe and careful rather than wrathful and panicked.

So Logan had stayed home and done everything in his power to search for his missing companion.

Days, then weeks, then months of fruitless searching.

Every clue he found was quickly converted into a misdirect.

Every lead, a red herring.

Every hint, another dead end.

He did his best to continue living normally, all the while.

But he’d been spoiled.

No one could match up to the best friend he’d grown accustom to over the years.

And nothing could quench his need to find him again.

Not until his father finally told him the truth.

Then, he stopped searching.

He continued to live life normally.

He made friends.

He went to school.

He studied all manner of subjects that caught his interest.

And he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until two years had passed, and his best friend’s eighteenth birthday came and went.

And he arrived in the parking lot of an old and, meant to be, abandoned military facility, standing amidst a group of similarly stone-faced lawyers as the building burned and fell apart right in front of them.

The sound of coughing was noticed first.

Then a man walked out of the smoke, holding Logan’s soot covered father in his arms while another man, who was missing an arm and part of his abdomen, leaned heavily against him.

Three glowing orbs of lavender light screeched threateningly above him, matching, and almost harmonizing, with the deep growling of two shadows curling protectively around the whole group.

Logan’s breath hitched when sharp violet eyes met his own.

The man holding his father stumbled briefly before continuing to walk towards him and the gaggle of lawyers.

A quiet warbling noise fell from the man’s lips and the shadows and lights surrounding him calmed in reaction.

One light in particular floated ahead of him and twirled swiftly around Logan and the lawyers before zeroing in on him and coming to settle gently onto his shoulders.

A soft, barely there, warble sounded from the light as it melted into the form of a small scarf on his shoulders.

He gave it the softest of pats as the man before him came to a stop just a few feet away.

“Logan.”

His voice was deeper than it had been when they’d last talked.

Rougher as well, though Logan wasn’t sure if it was something natural or if it was simply caused by the smoke inhalation.

He was also far taller than he had been.

Which wasn’t very surprising given how long it had been since he’d last seen him in person.

But his sharp eyes were still the same.

“Virgil. Welcome back.”

As were his soft smiles.

“Thanks, Lo.”

Those two simple words, and that nickname he hadn’t heard in years especially, held a volume of emotions that Logan was not able to deal with in that moment.

So he was rather relieved when his father coughed once more before wriggling in Virgil’s arms to be let down.

Once the elder genius was placed gently onto his own two feet, he turned to look at all of them in turn before addressing the other two still covered in soot.

“These are the lawyers that will help you regain your identity and gain access to your inheritance. All of the necessary papers and documents have been collected already, so you should be completely safe once we leave this parking lot. The authorities will likely arrive soon to investigate the fire. When that happens we’ll all leave this place behind, sticking with the true story of what happened here without mentioning any dangerous names.”

Virgil nodded, wrapping one of his now free arms around the waist of his injured companion.

“Right. Thank you for doing all of this, Dr. Fauste.”

A shake of his father’s head had Logan twitching as he realized what was about to be said.

“I only helped arrange our escape. Logan is the one who went through the effort of contacting the lawyers and preparing the documents for you. He’s also the one who shut down the security system for us. So, if you’re going to thank anyone, it should be-“

“Father.”

Logan’s voice was sharp, but his father only smiled at him in response.

A quiet huff of laughter caught his attention and made his gaze return to the one standing in front of him.

Still looking at him with those familiar sharp eyes and that same soft smile.

“You’re still bad at accepting compliments.”

The words were as soft as the smile that formed them.

The prickling heat behind Logan’s eyes was overwhelmed ever so slightly by the sudden irrational urge to push his best friend and swiftly walk out of the parking lot, away from the softness that was practically suffocating him at this point.

Ignoring that urge, as well as the prickling behind his eyes, was a herculean effort.

Instead, he simply turned away from his friend to speak to the lawyers behind him.

“If you would all please begin the process of reinstating Mr. Knight’s identity. We don’t have much more time before the authorities arrive to investigate.”

The reminder of their task brought the lawyers surging forth to speak to Virgil and push some various sheaves of papers at him to swiftly glance over and sign.

But, before the process could truly begin, and before Logan could escape for a breath, Virgil called out to him.

“Wait, Logan. What about Dee?”

The genius blinked in confusion before turning back to his friend.

“Dee?”

Virgil nodded, gently giving the wrecked man leaning into him a squeeze.

“Yeah. He’s always been an experiment here, so he doesn’t have an identity past that.”

Logan looked over at the other man, really taking him in properly for the first time.

Mismatched eyes, one light brown and the other bright yellow and reptilian, gazed tiredly back at him from a pale and partially scaled face.

There was exposed wiring and mechanics mixed in with the torn flesh and dribbling blood of his body, explaining why he was still capable of moving around so easily when he was missing both a limb and a good chunk of torso.

Logan remembered his father mentioning other experiments living within the facility.

“And you want to help him?”

But he’d mostly expected that they wouldn’t end up being his problem and had simply made arrangements to help Virgil and his father alone.

“Yes. Please, Logan. I know it’s probably a lot to ask for but…”

Though, he supposes that he should have, given the nature of his best friend.

“…I wanna help him. I can’t just leave him on his own.”

He’d always been far too kind for the world they lived in.

Logan sighed tiredly and brought a hand up to rub gently at his eyes, carefully readjusting his glasses afterwards.

Then, after giving his soft-hearted friend one final look of mild irritation, brought his tablet up from where it had been resting in the arm at his side and began swiftly tapping at the screen.

“I’ll begin the arrangements for the instating of a new identity and registry of citizenship. The necessary paperwork should be collected within the next few hours and we can begin the process as soon as Dee is ready to do so. In the meantime, he’ll be considered your property as the Knight heir in order to keep him under the radar and safe until everything’s ready for him. Is that alright with both of you?”

He glanced up at the two escaped experiments in front of him.

And immediately wished he hadn’t.

He was far too busy now to deal with all of the emotions that filled him when Virgil was looking at him like that.

Like Logan had given him the world.

Like he was grateful and touched.

Like he was proud to call him his best friend.

Dee nodded tiredly against Virgil’s shoulder and slumped further against him as he seemed to relax in relief.

“Yeah. I’m alright with it. Thank you, Logan.”

Dee’s voice was a barely there whisper of sound, slightly strained from the pain and exhaustion he was likely feeling.

Logan’s body throbbed a little in sympathy as he gave an affirming nod before returning his attention, reluctantly, towards Virgil.

His friend nodded as well, still looking at him with that same frustrating expression as he spoke.

“I’m okay with it too. Thanks, Lo.”

Virgil huffed out a little laugh again.

One that made Logan want to scream and run forward to strike the chest it was pushed out of.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Suffer.”

The word fell out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Virgil gave a single, surprised, blink before bursting out another, slightly hardier, laugh that was matched by the silently shaking shoulders of his now smiling companion.

Logan huffed, irritated, and turned away to continue tapping at his tablet in peace.

He, dutifully, ignored the slightly wet quality to his best friend’s laugh and waved his hand briefly as he called back to him and the gaggle of lawyers still surrounding him.

“Take care of the paperwork! We only have approximately ten minutes before the authorities arrive!”

------------------------

Hours later, after the paperwork was finished and they’d finally been released by the authorities and the hospital alike, Logan found himself in a large and mostly empty mansion.

It was clean and stocked with all of the essentials.

He’d made sure of that while they’d all been temporarily accosted at the police station to give testimonies.

His father had gone home, along with the lawyers, as soon as they were all released from the hospital.

And Logan had, naturally, gone with Virgil and Dee to the property that would now be Virgil’s home.

Upon their arrival, Dee had fled to find a room with a bed he could sleep on, Virgil giving him a quiet goodnight before wandering further into the mansion in silence.

And Logan, without much thought or hesitation, followed him.

Neither of them spoke as they walked the considerable distance within the mansion.

Until they reached an ornate black and silver door that Virgil opened to reveal a room filled with curtained windows.

It was a beautiful and immaculate bedroom.

With a large sitting area filled with plush couches and pristine tabletops, what was likely a wonderfully luxurious en suite bathroom, a walk in closet that was likely to be just as decadent in size and furnishing, and an overly large bed covered in impossibly soft black and purple fabrics that took up a rather large corner of the room which was hidden partially out of sight by some hanging privacy curtains.

“They brought me here once.”

Virgil’s voice echoed in the overly large and opulent space.

“I didn’t see them at all until we had to go home.”

It made the room seem even bigger than it actually was.

“I picked this room out myself and stayed here, pretty much, the entire time.”

Virgil walked silently over to the window’s closed curtains and stopped beside a silver lever on the wall.

“Cus the view here’s the best in the house.”

The lever was pulled and the sound of old but still functioning mechanisms filled the echoing silence as the curtains steadily opened.

And Logan understood exactly what Virgil meant.

On the other side of the windows, which took up an entire wall of the room, was a small and isolated garden surrounded by high stone walls and illuminated by the light of the night’s full moon.

Within the garden was a pond with a gently streaming waterfall, the water crystal clear and still in a way that seemed almost unnatural, allowing it to reflect the starry sky above it.

A large and gently swaying willow tree overlooked the pond, some of it’s branches gently lapping at the water’s surface.

Small white flowers dotted the soft grass that covered the ground, and vines covered in jasmine blossoms climbed lazily over the stone walls surrounding it all.

The sight was breathtaking.

“I didn’t think I’d see this place again.”

Logan couldn’t see Virgil’s face from where he was standing.

But he knew his best friend.

Even though he’d changed over the years.

He was still Virgil.

He was still that kind boy with sharp eyes and soft smiles.

So Logan didn’t have to see his face to know what it looked like.

He didn’t have to see the tears to know that they were falling.

And he didn’t have to hear the words to know what Virgil needed.

There was no uncertainty in his movements when he wrapped his arms around his taller friend.

The difference in height made his hands shake though.

The muscled torso made his chest tighten painfully.

“Logan…”

The deep voice brought a prickling heat to the back of his eyes.

And his throat closed up as the man he hadn’t seen in years turned around in his arms to face him.

Tears fell steadily from familiar sharp eyes and trembling lips were pulled into the same soft smile that had left him forever spoiled for everyone else.

“Thank you for bringing me home.”

Overly strong arms wrapped gently around him.

A familiar and steady heartbeat thumped soothingly through the warm chest he was pressed against.

An overwhelming feeling of safety and belonging washed over him in a wave of familiarity and comfort he hadn’t experienced in over six years.

And, finally, for the first time in a very very long time, Logan let himself go.

“I’M SORRY!”

The words fell out as a sob, his body shaking violently as he pressed even closer to the best friend he’d thought he’d lost.

Virgil’s arms only tightened further around him as he cried, letting out familiar warbling sounds of comfort that only made him cry harder.

And the strong man his best friend had become wrapped himself around Logan’s shaking form as if to protect him from the world they both knew was far too cruel.

Just as he always had.

((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))

(This was not going to be anywhere near as emotional as it ended up being.)

(But then I actually started writing it and thinking over the actual plot and realized, “Oh man. This is actually a really emotional situation no matter how you slice it.”)

(So it had to be emotional for plot reaasons.)

(But I think that’s okay.)

(It’s sweet in it’s own way and I really enjoyed writing some platonic analogical love.)

(So, yeah, there’s that.)

(Anyways.)

(Here’s the gen taglist.)

 @a-snoway-afternoon @ashrain5 @virgilscat @gumdrop2113@chelama @dragonsight9 @marse-422 @derpiest-unicorn @i-identify-as-a-mango @fearfilledvirgil @let-me-be-an-individual-rachet @blitzgamev @the-life-ofa-troubled-ace @satanblessi @punsterterry

(Please inform me if you’d like to be added or taken off of the general writing taglist or if you’d like to be added to the series taglist instead or something.)

(Here’s the link bed.)

A Bed of Links:

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Cerillen

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerillen/pseuds/Cerillen

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Discord: https://discord.gg/FsUhc5f

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(Eek-talk/words/language)