#and also her other rainbow rocks one...

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you deserve better.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral f!receiving, cockwarming, size kink, skinny dipping, angsty, kinda asshole/grumpy Joel, mention of alcohol

Celia's note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG. but i threw in that much request angst i hope yall enjoy!!!!! Also happy valentines day!!! peace n luv fr

Aint Right part 1 Ain't Right part 2

Recently, life has been great for you.

Winter was gone as fast as it came, and spring started to take root in Jackson. Your favorite season.

The months that passed since Christmas had been like a dream. You and Joel's relationship had been all unicorns and rainbows—well, to you, anyway.

Finally, you were starting to pry open the gates to Joel's thoughts. Becoming close with him meant so much to you, even when he would off-handedly share information about himself by accident, you'd immediately commit it to long-term memory.

He didn't like to talk about himself much, but when he did, you were all ears.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't have to try as hard with you.

There was a constant flow of words out of your mouth, especially around him. You couldn't help it, really. You talked when you were nervous, and you were always nervous around Joel—that never went away.

But all in all, you were overflowing with happiness.

Joel, however, was feeling a little differently.

Ever since this relationship with you started, he's had this subtle ache about it.

His insecurities of being an old man were eating at him, day by day. His conscious just couldn't stop pestering him with the idea that you deserved better.

He felt that by being intimate with you, as much as he liked it, was holding you back from living your life.

By allowing you to indulge in this relationship with him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was setting your life up for failure.

He was picturing some White Fang situation where you were some wild animal that was getting too close to him, and in order to prevent you from getting hurt by domestication, he'd have to throw rocks at you and tell you to 'go on an' git'. Even though he deeply cared about you.

These insecurites really came to the surface whenever you two were in bed together.

He was 56 years old, for crying out loud. He had two rounds in him max, anything more might give him a heart attack.

He'd clock the little disappointed pout you'd make when he couldn't go again, even when you tried to act otherwise. He was just in his head about the entire thing—which was so unlike him.

You were doin' things to him, thats for damn sure.

Joel couldn't deny the affect you had on him anymore. You were starting to become a top priority; he was unable to stop himself from putting you first.

How was it so easy for you to become to important in his life?

He pondered this thought while coming back from a supply run, riding in on horseback. The sound of hooves crunching twigs and rocks was an oddly theraputic sound, one that helped stop him from thinking so much.

Upon his return, Joel drops off his supplies and guides his horse back into its stable. He gives it a few loving pats before leaving, walking down the main road with the breeze in his hair.

His eyes scan the people crowding the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite face.

And he does.

Eventually, Joel spots you, helping an older lady up her porch steps. You’re smiling, eyes sparkling like everything in the world was all fine and dandy.

It never got easier seeing you wear cooler clothes in public.

Sure, he's seen your naked body plenty of times, but there was something about you in a tank top, jean shorts and cowboy boots that just did things to him.

His heart tugs in his chest as he watches you complete the kind act, skipping back down the steps once the lady waves you goodbye.

That’s when you see him, across the street, just staring at you.

Your face lights up like fireworks when you notice. It always did. But Joel never got tired of seeing it.

He watches you jog his way, nearly running straight into him but managing to stop yourself last second.

“Hey! How’d that run go?” You ask, beaming up at him and trying your hardest not to smack his lips with yours.

“Good.” He nods, clenching his jaw.

Jesus, you looked so good right now—Joel was having a very hard time focusing on what to say when you were distracting him with your bangin’ bod.

“Good.” You copy, finding a moment to assess him. He seemed tense, more tense than usual. Joel knows you’re about to ask him what’s wrong—and he can’t face that question right now.

So he speaks before he knows what he’s saying. “You should come out with me again, next time, I mean. Actually try n' help instead of.. flirt.”

He's disgusing his intense feelings for you with an insult, because of course he is.

You scoff at his diss, rolling your eyes. “You loved my flirtin’.” You copied his texan drawl to mock him, earning you a glare.

“Well, I’d love to. Is it a date?” You purr, stepping into his personal space, prompting Joel to make quick use of his self control.

If he could act on his impulse, he would have bent you over and fucked you right there on the sidewalk.

He clears his throat before nodding. “Sure. Tomorrow. It’s a date.” He bites out like it pains him, because in truth, he'd rather take you out to dinner or something than another stupid supply run.

You’re smiling again, swaying on your feet. You make a few glances around to make sure no one’s watching before popping up and kissing him on his cheek.

“Kay, see you then." You chirp ever so sweetly, walking away in your small jean shorts.

You were really tugging on his heart strings.

When tomorrow comes, you're sitting on your porch swing, waiting for Joel to come and get you.

You were excited—mainly because you two would be out of sight from prying eyes. You could act on all your impulses.

You didn't mind people figuring you two out, you're kind of sure they already had, but you felt that Joel did care, and you wanted to respect his boundaires. Even though he never made those clear.

But, you felt you were pushing it with that kiss on the cheek yesterday, and you didn't want him upset with you.

The sudden thought made you worry.

Maybe he was upset with you. He did glare at you yesterday.

You probably did something, your anxious mind tells you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts due to the sound of hooves clopping against the road. Looking up, you're met with the pleasure-inducing sight of Joel.

He's walking with a horse beside him, holding its lead with a trained hand.

He's wearing that faded gray shirt and those jeans that seem like they're hanging on by a thread. So casual.

But, then you take a closer look at his appearance. He...trimmed his beard and attempted to slick back his hair...?

...Was he trying to look nice for you?

"Did you get all pretty for me?" You ask with a giddy smile, skipping down your steps.

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath before rolling his eyes. Yet, you swear you can see the faintest bit of blush on his cheeks. "You ready to go?" He asks, gesturing to the horse.

He's trying to change the subject, but you need to let him know you appreciate his efforts.

"You look really good, Joel. I mean—you always look good, but today especially." You bring your hand up to feel his hair, smiling happily. He can tell you're being geniune, but he's never been good with compliments.

"Thanks, sweetheart—now get on the damn horse." He sounds exasperated, but theres a small smile on his lips.

He helps you up onto the back before climbing on himself. "Wrap yer arms 'round me. Don't fall off." He murmurs, steering the horse towards the gates.

You slide up so that your chest is pressed against his back, and outstretch your arms to wrap around him. Once you two successfully leave the town and no one is watching, that's when you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade.

It's cozy. It's intimate. It's Joel.

You could fall asleep against him like this.

He remains silent because he knows how peaceful you feel right now. He wants to let you enjoy the moment.

You're admiring the forest scenary, occasionally resting your eyes. You don't know where Joel is taking you—maybe he's heading straight towards the middle of nowhere to drop you off and leave. Getting rid of you probably would've been in his best interest.

You're smiling at the thought because you know yourself. Even if he did do that, you'd find a way back to him. Like a loyal dog.

"Wait," Your voice cracks through the silence. Joel stops the horse, turning his head back to look at you. "Is that a lake?" He turns his head to where you're looking, his eyes catching the blue water that you're so enamoured by.

"Don't know what else it would be."

You roll your eyes at his smartassary. "...Can we go?"

"To the lake?" He reiterates, a confused look on his face. "'N do what?"

You shrug your shoulders, feeling stupid for asking all the sudden.

Immediately, Joel notices how you shrink into yourself. He wants to punch himself in the dick because he's being an asshole.

To fix his mistake, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and steers the horse down to the body of water.

You're giddy again in no time, a soft but excited squeal escaping your throat.

He manages to find a small clearing within the brush; open tall grass, a fallen tree trunk perfect for sitting, and direct access to the lake.

"So pretty." You muse, simply in awe of the nature around you.

You didn't really leave town much—only when you had to. So, seeing stuff like this, really meant a lot to you.

Joel gets off the horse and immediately turns to help you down. His hands find themselves on your hips while yours latch onto his shoulders.

He lowers you effortlessly, his grasp lingering for longer than it needed to.

Your skin lights on fire at his touch, dirty thoughts instantly flooding your brain.

The lake, the seculsion, the tension...there was really only one thing you were thinking about right now.

"Hey, what if we just...didn't go on that supply run?" You muse, avoiding eye contact for a moment because no matter how close you've gotten with Joel, he still made you nervous.

He shoots you a questioning look, which gives you the idea to show rather than tell.

You step closer to the waters edge, beginning to take off your boots. Joel's watching with that stern look, but it quickly fades, replaced with lust when you start shedding off your clothes.

First your shorts, then your tank top.

"Let's go swimming!" You say with that happy smile, the one that makes his heart beat soar.

He can't stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your stark naked body.

Not only did Joel enjoy your pert breasts and supple ass, he was also equally obsessed with the not overtly sexual things about you. Your hair, shoulders, collar bone, forearms, the curve of your spine—everything, he was consumed by it all.

He realizes that he needs to answer you, but all that comes out is a scoff.

"Hey—no. We don't know what the hells in that water." He huffs as his boner peaks through his jeans.

"Fine, guess I'll swim alone then." You say nonchalantly, knowing if you went in, odds were, Joel wouldn't be far behind.

And you were right.

As soon as you enter the cool water, you see Joel starting to undress in the corner of your eye.

You pretened you're not watching, and eventually he joins you in the lake.

You've waded out rather far into the water, waiting to speak until you know Joel is close.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" You ask, letting your body float above the surface, limbs outstretched while you stared up at the fluffy clouds.

If you could do this forever, you would. Naked as the day you were born, floating in warm spring water with Joel's company—maybe this was heaven.

Sure felt like it.

You almost don't even notice Joel's palm run up your shin and thigh, only when his hand lightly drifts over your lower stomach, is when you become all too aware.

Yet, he doesn't venture south.

Instead, he makes a path further up your stomach, then your ribs, then the valley of your breasts, until he rests his hand over your heart.

You stare at his face as he completes this insane act, completely baffled at the fact that he seemed so entranced and calm, while you were trying not to freak out.

He notices your stare, and finally meets your eye contact. No words leave his mouth—he can't seem to find any that feel right.

But he's thinking about how beautiful you are. How sweet and doting, how smart and witty. Everything about you encompassed into a few short words just didn't feel worthy enough.

But you can't just leave things the way they are.

Slowly, you situate yourself around him, attaching to his body like a koala bear. Your arms slide around his shoulders while your legs wrap around his waist.

Skin to skin, face to face, so fucking intense.

Joel's strong arms find themselves around your torso, keeping you close to him.

"Yeah, it does feel nice." Joel replies, his voice soft, his eyes even softer.

You smile, big and geniune, a feeling of bliss taking over you. "Isn't this so much better than some silly supply run?"

Joel rolls his eyes, which spurs you on even more.

"Come on, admit it; you'd rather be out here with me, than some stinky convience store looting pills." You tighten your legs a little around his torso, feeling your cunt become flush with his bare stomach.

You feel a surge of pride when his breath hitches and his erect cock prods at your ass.

But it doesn't take long for his expression to fall back into its natural scowl.

"M'not admitin' shit." He murmurs, bringing a hand up to move your wet hair over your shoulder and onto your back. It's an absentminded motion, one that Joel isn't really thinking about doing.

He just felt the urge to touch you.

You giggle at him, dropping your forehead to his shoulder to laugh.

Joel huffs, trying to stop smirking because your giggle is contagious. "Quit." Is all he says, shaking his head. "Can't believe you got me out 'ere doin' this shit." He grumbles, adjusting his hold on you slightly.

"What 'shit'?" You mimick him and his texan drawl, earning you a stern glare.

"Naked in a lake like m'some fuckin' teenager." He speaks with an unamused expression, before his eyes land back onto you and his gaze softens. "What're you doin' to me, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, but he says it like he's truly desperate for an answer.

You're not sure how to respond. His eye contact is making your brain all foggy.

It's silent.

You can only hear the rustling water, your breathing, and the general nature sounds in the distance.

Joel knows he confused you with his words, so he takes a moment to look away.

"Alright," He huffs out eventually. "Time to go."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest because he's already walking back to the shore, his arm remaining secured tightly around your back, basically carrying you.

You're not ready to leave, but you know Joel is, so you just opt for a dejected sigh.

He lets you back down on your feet when you're both on the grass, lingering his hand on the small of your back when he picks up your clothes. He uncrinckles your shirt before opening it up so you could easily put it on.

"This is becoming a habit of yours." You murmur softly, putting on the tank top and cringing at the way it sticks to your wet skin.

"Mm?" Joel doesn't know what you're referring to. He's never realized his pattern of clothing you. It was a simple act, but one you found endearing.

"Nothin'." You chirp, sliding on your shorts and boots.

Joel looks at you assessingly while buttoning his jeans back up, sucking in his stomach to zip them.

You're looking right back at him, admiring the way his wet hair looks, how the grays peak out in the most perfect way.

In a nervous manner, you shift on your feet, sliding your hands down into your jean pockets. "You sure you don't wanna...fool around?" You muse, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Joel smirks down at the ground as he continues to button up his shirt, shaking his head.

"You're too late kid, should've asked when we were naked." He's teasing, walking back over to the horse and gesturing for you to come.

You groan out, dragging your feet as you walk over to him and the horse. You were being dramatic, and Joel see's right through it.

"Quit whinin'. C'mon," He mutters, grabbing you by the hips to hoist you back onto the saddle.

"You're no fun, old man." You mumble, which freezes Joel in his tracks.

He doesn't know why, but that one off-handed comment ignites a blazing string of destructive thoughts.

As if he wasn't already insecure enough about being old and no fun.

His brain is jump-starting the self-depricating train of thought he had grown accustomed to, only this time, it had more fuel because you unknowingly confirmed it.

Of course, that isn't what you meant at all. It was just a teasing little comment, one you didn't think twice about. You weren't actually upset—at all.

Nevertheless, Joel's already in deep.

Slowly, he swings himself behind you onto the horse, grabbing the reins and starting forward.

You're quick to notice his demeanor, but choosing to keep your mouth shut.

The entire ride back is silent.

It was just like the ride there, only with a more suffocating air.

You have an inkling, but you have no idea the extent of his turmoil behind you.

Eventually, you two make it back to the stables. Joel helps you down from the horse, moving like a robot with no facial expression.

He's got that look in his eye that worries you. Every atom in your body wants to ask him what's wrong, but you also don't want to pry.

However, Joel would never open up to you unprompted. So, you at least try.

Your hand drifts upwards to his face, smoothing some of his hair down by his ear. "Is everything okay?" You finally ask, your voice purposefully soft and light so you don't startle him like he was some wild animal.

He inhales through his nose and clenches his jaw.

Oh.

Something was really wrong.

Your gaze goes from slightly weary to concerned in a flash, nervously biting down on your lower lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?" You ask, very evidently willing to do whatever he needed.

Joel had never been good with emotional timing. At the end of the day, he was still a man.

“We’ve gotta stop this.” He blurts.

You’re still for a moment, confused with his abrupt and vague words. You wait patiently for an elaboration.

Eventually, one comes, to Joel’s own dismay.

“We can’t see each other anymore—not like this.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

And then another.

You’re frozen with dread.

It’s like your body has forgotten all functions as you sit there and stare at him.

Surprisingly, the only thing you’re able to think of in this life changing moment, is the Christmas party at Maria and Tommy’s.

You’re thinking about how Joel fucked you in the guest bedroom, and how he said he didn’t want you having sex with anyone else.

You remember how happy you felt—like you two were exclusive or something.

How stupid were you?

With a quick intake of air, you swallow and look away.

“Did I do something wrong?” You croak, your voice akin to a wilting flower.

Joel is wracked with guilt the moment he hears you. But his mind is forcing him to do this.

“No—no. You haven’t done anythin’ wrong. This is all me, I fucked up and let this go on for too long.”

His answer provides no relief.

“But, I thought we—I thought you liked me?” You’re stumbling over your words because you’re so distraught, trying to blink away your persistent tears.

Shit.

Joel can hardly look at you. He would crumble and die if he did—the sadness in your expression is like several stabs to the gut.

Truth is, he did like you.

Thats why he wants to end things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can manage, head hanging down to look at the dirt.

You’re not looking at him either, instead opting to blankly stare at one of the horses in the stable.

“So,” You start, your voice cracking because you’ve started crying at this point. “You don’t wanna hook up, does that mean we can still hang out?”

Joel takes a big deep breath before answering.

"It would be best if we didn't see each other at all." Finally, he makes eye contact with you, and immediately regrets it.

You look like you've just been shot, for christsake—might as well have.

It was like he just tore your heart out, threw it to the ground, curb-stomped it, and kicked it down a gutter.

"Okay," you murmur, nodding slowly, trying to seem some-what chill about things. Inside, however, it was like World War III. "Uhm, I'm just gonna go home." Your voice is a croak, and Joel watches with the utmost remorse as you walk away.

It feels like shock.

Was this a break up? Were you even together in the first place? Why didn't he want to see you at all? Questions, questions, and more questions rattle in your brain as you shuffle away, hands shaking and eyes pouring.

You look down at the ring Joel gifted you on your finger, debting whether you should take it off or not.

Joel feels awful.

And it's not like the awful he felt the very first time he regected you—this time it's far more painful. It's a deeper wound, an uglier, gross, puss-infested cut that keeps getting worse the farther you walk away.

He thought he'd feel some relief.

He thought that after ending things, he would be rid of that nagging voice in his head.

But no, it remained.

Only now, it barked thoughts of wrong-doing.

'Why would you do that? Things were going great, you've fucked everything. You just broke her heart—’ and it goes on and on and on.

For a moment, the panic he feels registers in his mind as a heart attack. Thats what it felt like, anyway.

He has to brace himself against one of the wood beams in the barn, aggressively rubbing his chest to try and get his heart rate normal. Joel loses his breath in the process, not realizing that he's having a panic attack.

Whatever happens next, you don't see.

You never looked back after you walked away. *** "I don't know why you're all caught up about this, Joel." Tommy admits, a disappointed expression on his face.

Joel glares at his younger brother from the bar top, clearly disgruntled by Tommy's inability to understand his side of the situation.

It had been exactly 17 hours since Joel cut things off with you. He'd been drinking for at least 10 of those hours.

Somewhat drunkenly, he had told Tommy a very short and curt version of what happened.

But he got the picture. Tommy sighs, hanging his head for a minute before bringing it back up to speak again. "All m'sayin' is, it's the end of the damn world, Joel. Her 'future' ain’t graunteed; she'll be lucky if she makes it past 30 with the way things are. She's been 'round long enough to know that herself, n'for some fuckin' reason, she wants you—"

"She don't know what the hell she wants."

"See—that's where you're wrong, Joel." Tommy slams the whiskey glass that he was cleaning down on the bar, fed up and frustrated. "I've known 'er longer than you. She's a smart girl n'you're sellin' her short. Wake the hell up." He bites out before walking away, clearly finished with the conversation.

He had been watching and listening to Joel mop and groan about it all day and night—he had enough.

Other than the anger from being talked to in that manner welling inside of Joel, there was also a moment of clarity.

As much as it killed him to admit, Tommy was right.

He was selling you short.

The world is too ugly and fucked up for him not to act like everyday might be his last. He would be stupid to not just settle down and be happy with you for however long he had left.

Shit.

All alone in Tipsy Bison, Joel was slowly beginning to realize how majorly he screwed up.

He ruined things because he was too damn scared.

He didn't think there was a worse feeling than this—dealing with this huge fucking mistkae.

He wasn't sure if he would be able to come back from how things ended.

That look that you had in your eyes...Fuck. Joel didn't think he even deserved a second chance.

But goddammit if he didn't try.

After throwing the rest of his whiskey back, Joel got up from the barstool and hurriedly walked out, slamming the doors behind him.

He marches all the way to your place, ignoring whoever tried to talk to him on the way.

He had to do this. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Finally, he makes it to your quaint little home, haulting in front of it. There is some imaginary force stopping him, something pulling him back.

It's that nagging voice in his head again, the one that caused this whole mess in the first place.

But this time, he ignores it, and trudges up your porch steps.

Joel knocks rather forcefully, his jaw clenching when you don't answer within seconds.

He bangs on the door again with his fist, hard, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

When you still don't answer, he enters anyway with your spare key (he always kept it on him), calling out your name as soon as he steps inside.

You hear him from your bed upstairs, though you honestly think you're hallucinating. You've been crying for hours, the only sound in your ears were your sniffles and sobs.

His heavy footsteps seem to get louder and louder, and when he calls out your name outside you're door, that's when you realize you weren't hallucinating at all.

You sit up just as Joel opens your door, your eyes wide with shock and tears.

He takes a couple steps inside before he sees how utterly devastated you looked. The sight of you renders him immoveable.

He feels…like the biggest asshole-asshat-douchebag-fuckwad-dickhead thats ever walked the planet.

“Why…are you here?” Your broken voice asks, trying your best to hold back tears.

Even after all he did, you still spoke so softly, all your respect for him still there.

He had talked himself up the entire walk over, but all his words were dying on his tongue.

He was beginning to think that there was nothing he could say that would make what he did right.

“Babygirl I—”

He sees you psychically flinch at his voice, and it makes his heart break all over again.

His feet carry him to the edge of your bed, hands coming out to hold your face.

You’re not sure how to process his touch, not sure how to process any of what’s happening, but you’re trying your best.

“I was wrong,” his thumb is wiping off the tear stains on your cheeks, a forced gentleness to his touch. “So fuckin’ wrong, babygirl. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing his words, you can’t stop the floodgate of your tears. You start bawling, your shoulders shaking with each sob.

“I was so scared.” You cry, bringing your hands up to latch onto him. You wanted to explain more, explain why you were scared—because having Joel and then suddenly not having him, was like ripping your heart out.

He can’t scoop you up in his arms fast enough.

He gets in the bed with you, lifting you onto his lap while he cradles your head to his chest, kissing the top of your scalp.

"M'not lettin' you go. I promise." He husks, his grip on you strong.

And Joel kept this promise.

He held you the entire night, ensuring that you were secure and warm.

In the morning, you immediately asked what changed his mind.

"I was frustrated." He starts, exhaustion etched into his face. "I couldn't understand why you wanted me. Felt I was keeping you from some great life—a young husband n' some white picket fence. But..life here is probably as good as it's gonna get. And this," He looks to the both of you, alluding to the relationship you shared. "Is really fuckin' good."

Your heart is crumbling at his confession.

Discovering that he spent so much time insecure about things, both infuriated and saddened you.

When you were about to respond and explain away his worries, he speaks again.

"M'not lettin' you go. What I did was a mistake. M'sorry."

You're crying again, sniffling softly against him.

"You should've just fuckin' talked to me," You whimper, burying your face into his neck. "I could've—”

"Ain't nothin' you could'a done. You never did anythin' wrong." Joel reassures, pulling you from his shoulder so he can look at your face. "You gon' forgive me?"

"Obviously," you mumble, looking at him with a fake frustrated expression. "I meant it when I said I've always been yours."

And just like that, things were resolved.

You brought your hand down to grip his flannel, sighing into his chest. Joel also sighed in relief, realizing that you weren't going anywhere.

To raise the spirits in the room, you crane your neck up to look up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"M'still mad at you. How are you gonna make it up to me?" Initally, you weren't really insinuading anything sexual—you were thinking he could take you for dinner or ice cream or something.

But Joel has something different in mind.

He gently grabs your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you how he wanted. His tongue is warm in your mouth, his mustache prickly against your face.

When he breaks away, you're out of breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I got an idea." Joel mumbles, carressing your jawline with his thumb.

Slowly, he sits up only to position himself between your thighs. With his calloused hands, he slides his palm up the planes of your legs until he reaches your pants.

You shiver when he dips his fingers under your waist band, pulling them down agonizingly slowly.

"This okay?" He asks in a gentle tone, one that makes your stomach do flips.

"Yes," You say immediately and breathlessly. "Very okay."

The corners of his mouth turn up to resemble a smirk, before his gaze returns back to the area between your legs. He runs his fingers down your clothed slit, feeling the way your wetness coated the stringy fabric.

You let out a soft gasp, slightly bucking your hips, hungry for more of his touch.

He plays there for a while before finally taking your underwear off, setting it somewhere on the bed.

Joel inhales through his nose when he sees your glistening cunt, trying to not cum in his pants at just the sight. He doesn't stop his impulse to pull your folds apart, running his thumb along your lips.

He's being so slow and gentle—it’s making your heart rate each dangerous levels.

His thumb then ventures up to lovingly rub your clit, his eyes scanning your face to watching your reaction.

Your legs are shaking as you kept them apart for Joel, your hands fisting the sheets as you cope with the sensations he's allowing you.

Your chest is heaving up and down and your eyes are glazed over with a hazy fog—one that Joel loves to see.

Then, out of nowhere, Joel lowers his head and connects his lips to your clit.

The act makes you jolt, mostly because you weren't expecting it.

His tongue laps at you, slowly at first, but then something shifts in Joel.

It's like the hunger for your cunt overwhelms him, and his grip on your thighs tighten. Within seconds, he's devouring you like a man starved, licking long strips up your cunt before focusing on sucking your clit.

You can't stop the moans and mewls slipping past your lips, and you don't really want to. You want Joel to know how good he's making you feel.

"OhhhfuckJoel," You whine, shooting your hands down to grab his salt and pepper hair. He focuses solely on your bundle of nerves with his tongue, using his fingers to give your desperately empty hole some attention.

When he slides two fingers inside, you effectively fall apart.

Tear prick in the lining of your eyes, your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out his name.

The fact that he's never eaten you out before and he's been this good at it the entire time, felt criminal. You honestly might've been more offended that he waited so long to reveal this talent than when he tried to end things.

"Dontstopdontstopdontstop," You sob, feeling yourself reach that climax you craved.

You come with a loud moan, and Joel lets you ride it out on his tongue and fingers.

When your body goes limp, thats when Joel lets up. He brings his head out from your legs and slips his digits out of your spasming hole.

You mewl at the feeling, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" You asks, voice quiet and cracked.

"M'fifty-six years old—been around the block, babygirl." He's face is glistening with your juices, and his mouth is wearing that lopsided smile of his. It makes you wanna smile back.

"...Damn. So I'm not the first, huh?" You huff, not upset in the slightest, just wanting to tease him a little.

He chuckles and unzips his pants, letting his cock slap against his stomach. "No sweetheart, you ain't the first." He rasps, effortlessly manhandling you to straddle his lap. "But you are gon be my last."

His hands caress the plush surface of your hips, kneading them like dough while his eyes scan your face.

You're blushing so hard, your face probably looks like a spanked ass.

He really did have a knack for leaving you breathless with those one-liners of his.

You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, looking back down into his big brown eyes. All you can do is stare, because your brain is too focused on how hard your heart is beating to come up with a response.

"What? Now you ain't got nothin' to say?" He husks, his massive palm venturing down to your grab and squeeze your ass. Your back straightens and your lips part like you want to say something—but you're not quite sure what. "C'mon, use those pretty lips."

An idea pops into your brain.

"I'd rather use these lips," You whisper close to his mouth as you raise your hips up to hover over his member, slowly dipping his tip inside your warm hole.

"Fuck," Joel grunts, exhaling through his nose.

You grin at his reaction, lowering yourself down further with bated breath. You watch as his head lolls back and his grip tightens on your waist.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?" You mock, even though you're equally as breathless as he is.

He flashes you a glare before sliding a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand doesn't let you break away from his lips, and you don't plan to.

His tongue establishes dominance in your mouth, which you eagerly let happen. It's passionate, deep, bordering on punishing—sometime during, he manages to rip your top off, leaving you completely nude. But sooner or later, you both decide breathing might be a good idea.

You break away, chests heaving, mouths panting.

Eventually, you sink all the way down on him, giggling deliriously when you make eye contact again. You decide to forget your fake little fued, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Have I ever told you how big your dick is?" You mewl, squirming your hips around a bit but not lifting them up and down. It has Joel reeling.

His hands are holding you so tight, you're sure that it'll leave a bruise. "No," Joel huffs out rather distractedly, his eyes laser-focused on the way your cunt is gushing all over his lap. But you swear you can see the faintest blush on his tan skin.

"Well—your dick is real big." You whisper nearly inaudibly, making Joel snap his gaze back to your face. A lazy smile curls at your lips before you begin dragging you tight cunt up and down on his violently erect cock.

Joel shakes his head in disbelief, as he often does, but is unable to answer becase the feeling of being inside you is rendering him speechless. His hand absent-mindedly dips down to rub your clit—the act has you doubling over onto his shoulder, starting to bounce on him like your life depended on it.

"OhJoel, Iloveitsomuch," You blabble into his ear, noticing how he had taken the reigns at this point. He was manually lifting your hips, bringing them down with intense vigor.

He was stretching you out so good and his tip was so fucking deep—you were having a hard time staying conscious and not going brain dead.

It appears Joel's in the same boat too. "Fuck—you're killin' me." He grunts, bucking his hips up to meet you.

You giggle airily before immediately getting your karma—his dick paired with the position and the way his face looked—your cunt clenches down on him and you cum hard.

Your body jolts as you grab onto him, not expecting him to keep fucking you. But his grip on your hips doesn't falter, and Joel continues to bounce you up and down.

The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt. Just letting him manhandle your body and do what he wanted was a surprising relief—even if you did just come.

You're reduced to whimpers and moans as you slump into his chest, letting him ground you and fuck your abused cunt.

Finally, slams you down one final time, unloading deep into your warmth. His groans sound like music to yours hears, especially because you know it's you that's making him feel so good.

He's panting in your ear, slowly starting to move his hands up to wrap around your torso.

He's hugging you before you can register it; his big arms securing you tightly to his chest while you both tried to catch your breaths.

Seconds pass...which turn into minutes, and you're wondering if Joel ever plans on letting you go.

He's made no efforts to remove his dick from inside you—it's soft now, but still buried deep nonetheless.

Your pussy will occasionally flutter around him, which'll earn a soft sigh from his lips.

You place a soft kiss on his temple before straightening your back to look at his face. "You tryin' to make sure your seed takes or something'?" You murmur, that teasing lilt in your voice that Joel is all too familiar with.

"Somethin' like that." He mutters into your chest, pulling you down with him to lay on the bed. "Want me to pull out?" He asks after a moment, scanning your face for any traces of displeasure.

You nestle into his chest, hooking your leg over his waist to lodge him deeper inside. "Never."

You and Joel fuck all day, all night and even into the morning. With, of course, breaks in between so Joel can recharge his stamina.

It happens multiple times in your bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the hallway, and even in the kitchen come morning.

Joel was making coffee while you were traipsing around with just his flannel on—humming along to some made-up song. It was like you two were an old married couple; him hovering over the moka pot and you scowering the fridge for some breakfast.

"Blueberry pancakes orrrr...." Joel watches as your head is stuck in the fridge, trying to find ingredients for meals. "Blueberry pancakes."

He snorts. "Surprise me." He huffs sarcastically, knowing he'd be eating a plate of blueberry pancakes.

You grinned and started making the batch, feeling Joel's eyes all over you because of the way his flannel was slipping off your shoulder because it was far too big on you.

His stare was turning you on—so you just bent yourself over the cool surface of the countertop and Joel did the rest.

Eventually, your safari of fun had to stop sometime during lunch. You both had succesfully cleaned yourselves and had started dressing for the day.

"I just told Maria I'd help set up." You murmur distractedly, tying your hair up in the bathroom mirror. Maria was holding a little town party in one of the recreational centers, and asked you, as well as some others to help her with the decorations.

There's a pause before Joel steps into the tiny bathroom, situating himself behind you and sliding his large hand over your stomach. He places a soft kiss to your head before dropping his hands to softly squeeze your hips.

"I'll walk you there."

A beat.

"You will?" He nods in confirmation, which has you turning around to look at him. You smile and tilt your head playfully. "You gonna walk me to first period too?"

Joel immediately rolls his eyes and scoffs, though you swear you can see him smirk.

"Smartass." He huffs out, grabbing your forearms to move you out of the way.

"Kidding." You chime, leaning on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. You weren't sure why you were so surprised by his offer, but you could tell it was a sign of something.

Maybe he wasn't stressed about people finding out about you two anymore. He never said that he was—but you could tell.

And it wasn't like he was embarrassed of you or anything—he's just always been a private person. It wasn't anyone's business who he was falling asleep next to every night.

But you—he'd be willing to change that for you.

When you both are ready, you exit your house, locking the door behind you. You look up to see your neighbor watching as you and Joel descend your porch steps.

You never liked her—gossipy woman who was always sticking her nose in places it didn't belong.

Quickly, your gaze snaps to his face, wanting to see if he was okay or anxious or whatever it may be.

But Joel's just looking right back down at you. "Lead the way, pretty lady." He murmurs lowly, his jaw clenched but his eyes soft.

You smile, and fall into step with him as you both walk down the sidewalk. The birds are chirping, the breeze feels amazing, and Joel is cracking smiles at your jokes.

Life felt good again.

Suddenly, Tommy appears out of nowhere, as he often does, blocking you and Joel's path.

You freeze, trying to keep a neutral face. You still weren't sure how to act around people with Joel, so you were just planning to play if off like you guys were just two buddies walking or whatever.

"Hey," Tommy greets, looking at you and then Joel, his eyebrows pinched together like he was confused at seeing the two of you in the same vicinity.

Oh. He probably knew what happened, or bits and pieces of it.

For some reason, you feel anxious that Joel might be feeling anxious, so you look down at your feet and nervously fidget with your hands.

"What're you two doin'?" Tommy asks, a detective look in his eyes as he shifted on his feet.

Joel clears his throat before looking down and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his calloused grip. He can't help but glare at Tommy with a stern face, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Your breath catches.

Tommy's eyes venture down to your joined hands, then you, then Joel.

After a beat, a sharp and knowing grin spreads across his face.

"Well I'll be damned." THE END.

[nyaruelle-designs]

🦄 Mane 6 + Family Redesign! 🦄

aaaaa this took so long, but it's finally done 😭 here's some art of mane 6 with their families. If you haven't seen my first redesign for the Mane 6, click me!

Keep reading below for design notes! (most of them are very small tweaks to get the palettes to look close to the Mane 6 hahaha)

OK! starting off with twilight's family, I tried to keep her parents' colors close with her own colors, I took both twilight's and shining's colors to match along with their mom and dad. I think Night Light is the most noticeably different of all the parents so far??

shining's colors are quite good but I guess I make it a point to give some siblings matching coat patterns to relate them to each other haha

also I had to add spike. He is apart of the family after all <3

For Rarity's family, I really took a lot of creative liberties haha

I kept Sweetie Belle's colors quite similar but yeah, tweaked it to match more in her sister's color scheme and gave her shared coat patterns with Rarity.

Rarity's parents also underwent some tweaks HAHA (i swear, every time I give the mlp character a unique coat pattern, they turn out looking so different but good??)

Fluttershy's family still looks relatively the same just with a few tweaks to the colors. (Fluttershy definitely gets her soft wings from her mom hehe)

I gave Zephyr a tattoo which I imagine he got in his youth while figuring himself out, thought it would complement his 'surfer?? chill bro' character

Also, fun detail: the tips of Fluttershy and Zephyr's wings compliment/relate back to each other which I think is really neat

Rainbow's family is quite self-explanatory, not a whole lot of difference HAHA

I think I let myself have a little bit of fun when redesigning the Apples. Idk why I thought it'd be interesting to add a bit of green to Pear Butter but ye??

I also kept Pear Butter as having a more petite frame as my personal handcanon is that while she did do farm work, she mostly did the less intensive work like watering the crops or something ahaha

neat detail: Applebloom inherited her eye color from granny smith, thought it'd be interesting to link them together

And last but not least, the Pie familyyy

As Pinkie and Marble are twins, I modelled Marble directly off Pinkie's desaturated form but gave her a longer mane. Other then that, I tried making them look as similar as possible

It's not very noticeable but I also gave Pinkie's dad a bit more pink in his colour scheme to show where she could've gotten her pink genes from. (I want to believe that in the past Igneous Rock had a pink mane before it turned grey from age)

also out of topic but I have this personal headcanon that the pie sisters are actually quadruplets with pinkie being the only one out of the 4 having her recessive pink gene, thought it would be fun to share.

Anyway, congrats on making it to the end! Thanks for reading all my design notes :’D I’ll definitely be drawing more. (next I'm gonna try to draw the secondary characters and hopefully not take too long to get it done-)

[sweetheartbitesb4ck]

this is part one || part two || part three || part four || part five

Simon 'Ghost' Riley, who always kept such a stoic, emotionless facade, couldn't help but feel drawn in when he walked past your house.

Your windows were wide open, so the loud music crept out into the street as you danced around the kitchen, belting out lyrics along to the song. Simon paused as he noticed, a huff of laughter escaping from him as a smile crept over his masked face.

Stepping forward slightly, the Lieutenant craned his neck to peer through the window, his eyebrows furrowing with amusement as you jig around to the song, your singing muffled as you bend down to put a tray in the oven.

"Not too bad," Simon mutters to himself, referring to your singing. After a moment, he snaps out of his intrigued gaze, realising how creepy he probably looked, also realising, despite these unfamiliar feelings, how different he was to this person he'd never even spoken too, like a slab of concreate being best friends with a rainbow.

He carries on walking, shaking his head as if to shake the 'sense' back into himself, however he just couldn't get rid of that slightly fluttery feeling in the base of his belly. Ghost was used to being able to walk through life not feeling anything for anyone, partly because of his rough childhood and mostly because of the mannerisms gained from his line of work. Yeah, you hadn't had a great experience growing up either, but you were so open. Simon almost found it... refreshing?

Even at work he couldn't get rid of that lingering feeling. In the mess room, it was obvious. Simon was always... grumpy, to say the least, but today he wasn't even getting angry at MacTavish when he was being annoying, which was a clear indicator something was off.

Soap stops messing around, his grin shrinking to some degree. "Alright, LT?" he inquires, tilting his head slightly. Ghost grunts, scowling through his mask. Gaz looks over, nodding in agreement at Johnny. "Yeah, to be fair you seem off Simon."

Simon turns to Soap, then Kyle, his eyes dark. "Stop fucking pestering." He says bluntly, voice deep and gravelly.

Later, (in the pub, obviously) Simon was still quiet, sulking over his drink.

"I say we buy him some more booze and get him to spill," Soap whispers to Kyle, eyebrows raised smugly like some evil genius devising a master plan. "Yeah he's being weird." Garrick responds a little to loudly, and Ghost's neck pretty much snaps round. He looks the two up and down before returning to his drink. "Aye the blokes very crabbit." MacTavish mutters, rolling his eyes.

After Kyle and John had made poor Simon tipsy from countlessly thrusting more and more drinks before him, they started to question him. "Why so silent?" Garrick's eyes flick to Johnnies, as if to ask for approval for the question. Soap grins and nods, watching as Simon slams down down his fists on the table, leaning backwards in his chair.

"There's this girl," He mutters, shaking his head as both Gaz and Soap sit up, leaning in. "A lass, aye?" MacTavish squints, smirking at Simon. "Where'd you meet?"

"We haven't- I mean, I saw her through her window..." Simon grumbles, adjusting his skull mask. "Oh?" Kyle's mouth opens in a confused O shape. "Bit pervy. Maybe talk to her?"

"No... it'd be like a bag of skittles.. and I dunno, a boring old rock shagging." Ghost pouts through the mask, eyebrows contorted slightly.

"So... yer different from each other?" Johnny frowns, evidently bewildered. "I think he went and fell in love with this window lassie," He turns to Gaz, his expression contagious.

"That's the fucking problem!" Yells Simon, his eyes shining with unironic yet comical sadness. He slams his large, gloved hands into his face, tipping back on the chair.

"Show us window girl then," Garrick chuckles, obviously not convinced. The three man stand up, Soap shoving a few notes onto the table and thumping Simon's back gently as they walk out into the dark.

"She lives like..." The lieutenant trails off, pointing randomly around before stomping off down the road. After about 10 minutes of walking, he stops abruptly in front of your small house. The downstairs lights were all on, shining cosily from inside. The three stand there for a moment before Soap nudges Simon. "You gonnae talk to her or not?" Kyle steps back slightly as Ghost groans like some enamoured softy. "Maybe not..." Gaz murmurs.

"Oh you and your sensibleness can fuck right off." Johnny says as he starts to shoves Ghost up the pathway to your house, knocking on the door before darting away and leaving the bewildered man just standing there. Simon registers what's happening as the lock starts to click. It was too late for him to walk away. His breath hitches as you open the door and open your mouth, confused. "Hi?" You say, voice slightly unsure.

His eyes widen and he grins sheepishly, taking in your beauty close up and blinking as he starts to speak. "Hello Miss," You shift around slightly, grip tight on the door. Who the fuck is this guy? You think to yourself, looking the masked figure up and down.

You step backwards slightly as you notice another two men walking up the path, one grinning and the other rather reluctant. The one with strange looking mohawk places a firm hand on the masked mans shoulder and the other one just cowers behind mohawk man.

"My friend Simon here would like your number," Soap smiles, Scottish accent loud in the crisp night air. Simon nods enthusiastically. "You're pretty," He slurs, sticking up his thumb and grinning with his eyes. You nod, trying not to burst out laughing.

"Oh, well... thanks," You smile briefly, leaning backwards into the house to grab a pen. You weren't sure why you were doing this... giving some random man your number, but something had you hooked. Maybe it was the fact you could see how toned and muscly he was, even through his hoodie, or just because of how blatantly bizarre the encounter was. "Here," You tug up masked mans sleave, scribbling your number on the inside of his wrist. "Yay," He mumbles, turning around and tripping down the path, his two buddies in close pursuit.

You can't help but notice him drunkenly punch the air as he stumbles down the path, and as you click the door shut you can't ignore the smile plastered on your face and the flush creeping over your cheeks.

should I make a part 2 ?

sorry for any mistakes I'm tired af again heh... anyway, any reblogs / support is appreciated!! hope you enjoyed !

[wlw-imagines]

Knifepoint - Amelia Shepherd x Reader (Grey's Anatomy)

a/n: ignore this is a day late and also that i have disapperead for a week, work was high stress - i may upload previous days or i may disappear for another week. with me - who knows!!!

summary: You’re a trauma surgeon known for rocking black scrubs and keeping cool under pressure. When a tense situation turns dangerous and you get hurt, Amelia Shepherd steps in to save you and things get a little complicated. Between the hospital chaos and all the unspoken feelings, you both start to realise maybe there''s more to your rivalry than just work.

Part of May Prompts (a black scrub top) AND Maylancholy 2025 (held at knifepoint - @may-lancholy) - that's right, we have a combo one in day sixteen!

Early on in your career, you made a choice to wear black scrub tops.

Not charcoal. Not navy. Not a trendy graphite hue that someone from plastics might mistake for fashion. Just black. The kind of colour that takes no prisoners.

They drape like shadows around you, absorbing everything, blood, questions and grief. You make no explanation for them, and in your silence, everyone else fills in the blanks.

Some say it’s a trauma thing, a symbolic mourning, whilst others think it’s rebellion. A way to set yourself apart from the chaos of surgical life, from the rainbow of department colours that try to make life-and-death look less... well, less like death.

You don’t confirm or deny. You just keep moving.

There’s something in your gait, unapologetic and smooth, that makes people step aside before they consciously decide to. You walk like someone who’s already memorised the next fifteen steps. Your stethoscope is always coiled neatly, and there is not a strand of hair out of place.

The residents know not to chatter around you. The interns whisper your name with reverence and fear, as if you’ll materialise behind them with a glare sharp enough to lacerate.

You’ve heard the nicknames: The Void, Reaper in Reeboks. One ICU nurse calls you death in Danskos when she thinks you’re out of earshot.

You don’t mind. Better that than someone trying to make small talk.

Only one person doesn’t keep their distance. Amelia Shepherd.

It didn’t begin as antagonism. More of a clash. She barreled into the scrub room mid-glove, her ponytail swinging. Her badge hit her chest as she moved, the words NEUROSURGERY catching the light. She stopped short in front of your locker, her arms folding across her chest.

"You’re not hijacking my OR just because you’ve got seniority and a God complex," she snapped, voice sharp with adrenaline and annoyance.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even look up from the chart in your hand. "My patient is crashing. Yours is stable, sedated, and prepped."

"So that’s a yes on the God complex, then?"

"I’m trying to save a life," you said, calmly sliding your arms into your black gown. "If you’d like to argue about it with the chief, be my guest. But I’ll be done before you even know it."

She narrowed her eyes. "You better or you can be the one to apologise to my patient's family."

You met her gaze finally, with the slightest quirk of your eyebrow.

You’d been circling each other ever since.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a few weeks later. The hospital had finally quieted to a dull hum, most of the chaos seeping into night shift rounds and whispered consultations. You sank onto the cracked leather couch with a sigh, unwrapping the worst vending machine sandwich known to mankind.

"You know," came a familiar voice, dry as desert air, "I’m starting to think you enjoy suffering."

You didn’t look up right away. "Big talk from someone eating protein bars like there's no tomorrow."

Amelia Shepherd let the door swing shut behind her with a soft thud. She was still in her scrubs, top untucked, sleeves pushed to her elbows, hair escaping in every direction. She looked like someone who hadn’t slept in twenty hours, which, given the shift schedule, was probably accurate.

"They do the job and at least they taste somewhat alright," she said, biting into her bar without a flinch. "You, however, look like you’re one bite away from a stomach pump."

You risked a glance at her, brows arching. "Did you come in here just to roast my dinner, or…?"

Amelia’s lips twitched. "I came for silence. I stayed for the opportunity to roast your dinner, obviously yes."

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched upward. You tore a piece off the sandwich, then paused, glancing over at her. "Rough day?"

She gave a noncommittal shrug, flopping into the chair across from you. "They’re all rough days lately." You didn’t respond right away. Amelia tapped her thumb rhythmically against the side of her protein bar wrapper. "You haven’t been sleeping."

You blinked at her. "Is that an observation or an accusation?"

"Just an observation." She leaned back, regarding you with that unnervingly perceptive look she had, the one that always made you feel a little too seen. "You’ve got the whole haunted-in-the-hallway vibe going."

You bristled slightly. "You don’t exactly radiate sunshine and puppies yourself."

"Touché," she said with a smirk. Then, after a beat: "But I’m not the one deflecting by working double shifts and pretending it doesn’t bother me."

You met her gaze, something sharp and vulnerable flashing across your face. "And what would you suggest I do, Shepherd? Meditate? Journal? Scream into a pillow between rounds?"

Amelia didn’t flinch. "No. I don't have an answer yet. I wish I did."

"Ah, so you dish out this empty advice for free, huh?"

For a long moment, you sat there, two people balancing on the knife’s edge between pushing each other away and pulling each other in. Then Amelia sighed and stood, tossing her wrapper into the trash with unnecessary force.

"I’ll bring you real food next time," she muttered, already halfway to the door. "Try not to die of sodium poisoning before then."

You looked up, surprised. "You cook?"

She paused in the doorway, turning her head just enough to send you a small wink, "No. But I have very convincing delivery menus."

And then she was gone, leaving the door swinging quietly in her wake and something strange in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was annoyance or interest. Maybe both.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Another three weeks later, you’re mid-chart, back hunched at the nurses’ station, eyes moving too fast over patient notes that make you wish you could just go home, when you feel it.

A presence. Off-kilter.

You look up.

The man standing in the lobby doesn’t... belong. That much is obvious from the way his body holds tension. It's coiled, like a spring waiting to snap. He wears a hoodie too thick for the weather. His eyes dart from nurse to wall to floor. Sweating, fidgeting, vibrating with something that doesn’t match his surroundings.

You’ve seen that look before, where someone balances on the edge of unreality. A place where people either break down or break through.

Then you place him.

Angela Vasquez’s brother.

Angela, seventeen, who came in with a sudden thunderclap headache and collapsed in the elevator. You’d operated for six hours, cut and clamped and prayed with every ounce of precision you had. But the bleed was too fast. Too much.

She never woke up.

You were the last one to touch her. You’d stayed after the code was called. Sat beside her body. Pressed your palm against her cooling wrist and whispered her name.

Now her brother is here, standing across the atrium with that look in his eyes.

You push back from the desk and murmur low to the charge nurse, "Call security. Quietly." But it is too late.

He’s already moving. Three strides, maybe four. He closes the distance with a speed you don’t expect. There’s no time to back away. His arm rises.

Metal flashes.

The folding knife is cheap, dull silver with black tape around the handle. It catches the light for half a second before pressing hard into your chest.

There’s a shout. A dropped clipboard. Somewhere, someone screams.

But all you see is him.

His eyes are red-rimmed. His breath comes in short gasps. He’s not a killer. But he’s grieving.

"Say her name," he growls.

You exhale, slowly. Keep your body still.

"Angela," you say. "I remember. I was there."

He breathes harder. The knife digs in. You feel the press of it, sharp enough to pierce fabric, bite skin. "She walked in here. Alive."

"I know."

"She had a headache. That’s it."

"I know," you repeat. "I’m sorry."

The blade jerks. He presses it harder. Blood wells and there's a sting, then warmth. You'd hardly be able to see the liquid bloom through your shirt but you feel it become damp.

"Say it again!" he shouts. "Say it!"

"I’m sorry."

His eyes glisten, fury cracking into anguish. The whole hall is still. No one dares move.

And then- "Hey!"

The voice slices through the tension. Amelia.

She’s standing at the end of the corridor, wide stance, hands half-raised, eyes locked on the man’s trembling grip. She’s wearing her normal clothes and must have just come off shift. But her presence shifts the air.

"Don’t move," she says, calm and razor-edged. "It's just us."

The man twitches. The blade shifts slightly. Your blood spreads slightly wider beneath the black.

"She didn’t care," he says, voice cracking. "Didn’t even say sorry till I made her."

Amelia takes a step closer. "You’re right. It wasn’t enough."

You shoot her a glance. She doesn’t look at you. Her focus is entirely on him.

"Hurting her won’t bring Angela back," she says, voice thick with compassion and authority. "You don’t want to carry that weight."

He trembles. The muscles in his forearm twitch. "She was my baby sister."

"I know," Amelia says. "And I’m sorry. I should’ve caught the bleed. I’m the neurosurgeon. Maybe I missed it. Blame me."

Your heart spikes. "Amelia. No."

She finally looks at you, just for a second. And what’s in her eyes is not fear. It’s fury. It’s fire. It’s something too big to name.

"I’m not letting him kill you."

The man is confused now. His rage flickering, not knowing where to land. You feel his grip loosen. And so you move. It’s instinct. You slam your elbow into his ribs. The knife slices downward as he staggers, leaving a hot, burning trail across your chest.

Then you’re falling.

But you don’t hit the ground.

Arms catch you, steady, strong, too warm. Amelia's hands are on you, pulling you back against her body, her breath right against your ear. "Okay. Okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe. Stay with me."

You feel her pressure against the wound, fingers trembling just slightly. Blood soaks into her sleeves. Her hair brushes your cheek.

"That was monumentally stupid," you whisper.

"You’re a fucking idiot," she chokes. "A stupid, noble, infuriating idiot."

You wince. "Didn’t know you cared so much."

She huffs a broken laugh. "Don’t flatter yourself."

But her hand never leaves your chest.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You wake up in post-op and feel sore. Slow. Heavy.

And you’re not alone. She’s there. Curled in the corner chair, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, her cheek resting on her fist. Her eyes are closed but not asleep.

You whisper, "Did I ruin your day?"

Her head jerks up. "You ruined my fucking month."

You give her a tired smile. "That dramatic streak. Neurosurgeons really are the worst."

"You bled on my sweater. And almost died. You don’t get to talk shit."

You reach out. Your hand finds hers. "You stayed."

"Yeah, I never left."

There’s a silence. Then, "Why?"

She swallows. "Because I didn't to. Not when you owe me for that takeout. It's your turn to buy me food."

"That makes sense." You smile softly and she shakes her head.

"Maybe I want to keep you around to see what happens too." She hums, a slight anxiousness in her eyes. But you are too blunt for this.

Your voice barely makes it out. "Say it."

She leans in, forehead brushing yours. Her breath is warm, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

"I care about you," she murmurs. "More than I should. More than I ever wanted to."

You close your eyes.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, it doesn’t hurt quite so much to feel.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Two weeks later, you’re back on rounds. You turn a corner and stop.

Amelia’s waiting for you and she is in black scrubs.

She raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Well? Do I look intimidating?"

You glance at her, lips twitching. "You look like my evil twin. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She smirks. "I can think of some other things."

Teddy walks past, gaping and tilts her head, eyeing both of you with theatrical scrutiny, one brow lifting. "Okay. You can’t both wear black. People are going to think you’re in a cult."

Amelia didn’t even look up from her coffee. Her tone was bone-dry. "We are. It’s called the surviving trauma and deflecting with sarcasm cult."

You leaned back against the nurses’ station, a grin spreading slowly as you raised your coffee like a toast. "And caffeine. Don’t forget the daily sacrifices to the coffee gods."

"You need a catchier name, there's no way that'll catch." Teddy came to a stop next to Meredith, who was leaning on the opposite side of the counter. Meredith lifted her head and blinked at you both and deadpanned, "You two realize you’ve been matching every day for a week now, right?"

You shrugged with mock innocence. "Coincidence." Amelia, at the exact same time, replied, "Solidarity."

That earned an amused snort from Teddy, who shook her head. "So… solidarity in looking like you’re two seconds away from scoring a record deal with a broody indie hospital soundtrack?"

Amelia finally turned toward her, her grin blooming slowly. "If the scalpel fits."

Meredith took a slow sip of her coffee, clearly savouring the moment before droping in her next line, "Honestly, I just want to know how long until you two finally stop pretending that this is just a trauma bond."

You choked on a laugh and pretended to clutch your heart. "Meredith Grey with emotional insight? Who are you and what have you done with our queen of avoidance?"

Teddy leaned in, stage-whispering to Meredith with a gleam in her eyes. "I give them two more days before Amelia ‘accidentally’ kisses her in the elevator."

Amelia didn’t miss a beat. "Please. It’ll be the supply closet. Have some respect for tradition."

"Just for the record," you said, voice lower now, intimate in a way that made Teddy raise her brows and Meredith pretend very hard to be engrossed in her phone, "if it were the supply closet... I wouldn't exactly object."

Amelia tilted her head, mouth curving upward into that mischievous little half-smile she wore when she was two steps away from doing something reckless and brilliant. "Noted," she said, her voice just as soft.

Teddy cleared her throat, "Well. That’s my cue to make myself scarce before someone violates HR policy behind the linen cart."

Meredith finally looked up, smirking. "Just make sure someone actually does kiss someone before I waste another bet on emotional repression."

Amelia chuckled, stepping close enough that your shoulders brushed. "No promises," she murmured.

But the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Thunderbolts Sexuality Headcanons by a hyperfixated lesbian!!

Yelena Belova || Black Widow: aromantic, asexual. Sex repulsed, but in a queer platonic relationship with Bob. He's her platonic soulmate–an immediate connection, deeper and more intimate than the deepest of friendships. She definitely wouldn't care if he wanted to, idk, sleep with someone that isn't her. Because they aren't a couple. They have their own bond, they are each other's first priority–whatever else works for them is to be explored. It's not quite sibling-hood, it's far more affectionate than that... That being said, when it comes to the rest of the Thunderbolts, she definitely sees them as siblings. (let's pretend Antonia is included because Yelena would feel SUCH big sister energy with her. <3)

If she were to really delve into it, she's probably agender too, or a demigirl, maybe. However, she simply doesn't care enough about labels or pronouns–she dresses how she dresses, enjoys what she enjoys, feels how she feels–and doesn't care to explain it to anyone. Call her whatever pronouns you want to, she won't start an argument about it. She has a unique relationship to womanhood because of the Red Room–like it's a burden she has to carry without completely relating to what it means. An experience she holds, while not belonging to it entirely. It's a thin line. She cherishes it–but if she could be something else entirely–a rock, a wind, a beam of light–she'd prefer it. Enjoys exploring her gender expression/fashion, because she grew up completely unable to do that. She was robbed of an identity. She's making up for lost time.

Ava Starr || Ghost: Lesbian. Always feels an instant connection to queer people in general, without even knowing of their queerness. (We were ROBBED of the Ava-Antonia bond. RIP Antonia you're alive to me.) She's experienced strong comphet for years–and has flirted with men, but she can't imagine actually being with one. (I do hear the argument of her being bisexual, and I don't hate ghostwalker, but y'know.)

She's definitely demisexual, if you really delve into it. She falls in love fast, but the sexual attraction doesn't come in until way later. Like, she literally doesn't experience any physical attraction until she fully trusts someone–but she will hold their hand.

Has displayed behavior in the past that was deemed as flirtatious, but that's because she's definitely got some undiagnosed neurodivergency and can't quite grasp social cues, norms and boundaries. That being said, when she realized she was being perceived incorrectly, she really shut down the more playful/affectionate side of herself, becoming much more reserved.

Her relationship to gender is unspecified. She is Ghost, refer to her as such or not at all. (Maybe demigirl. Maybe! I doubt she knows. She's fine with she/her for sure.)

Antonia Dreykov || Taskmaster: Baby butch lesbian. That's also her gender identity: butch lesbian.

Was definitely in love with Lerato, that one girl from Black Widow. If she had survived the movie–and for argument’s sake, let's say she did–I’d loved to have seen her and Ava develop a bond–maybe even fall in love, I don't know.

Also, if she was alive, I know for a fact that Valentina would use her and Ava for PR stunts and rainbow capitalism during pride month. She has to win over the left somehow.

Robert “Bob” Reynolds || The Sentry: Bob is a hard one, because his sex drive had been completely disintegrated for a long time because of the drugs and the trauma–and his attraction to people was never a priority, never something he had time to consider. He was in too dark a place, with no guidance whatsoever. In that sense, I think he's 100% unlabeled. Even now that he's sober and slowly but surely regaining his sense of self, no label feels quite right.

He definitely grew up in a household where every little thing he did that was deemed even slightly more “feminine” got him called the f slur. Even if it was just gentility, or kindness, or softness.

Part of me thinks he could be panromantic. I don't think gender would make any difference to him at all–I think he's blind to it. He loves the person, the soul, regardless. I think he finds himself to definitely be on the ace spectrum too, maybe aceflux, but he's not sex repulsed. He's open to it. He had been sexually active way before the Sentry project, but not because of any desire to be so. Just because the other person wanted it, maybe, or as a way to get access to more drugs.)

Lastly, do I think he's 100% cis? Nah. Demiboy, maybe? As I said before, unlabeled. He'd describe his gender the same way as Yelena. If he could be a rock he'd choose to be a rock–but is still exploring his own gender expression, since he never had the chance to do so in the past.

John Walker || US Agent: American. 🦅🦅🦅

Jk, jk. Honestly, I think Walker's repressed. He definitely grew up thinking he's 100% straight, maybe sprinkle in some internalized homophobia. He's a US Military propaganda machine, an example of how America manipulates and uses veterans before their mental health goes to shit and they're no longer “useful,” thus are discarded instead. Do you think he's super sexually liberated? Nuh uh. Of course not.

He definitely likes woman. Female lean, for sure. That being said–he was hopelessly in love with Lamar Hoskins, the same way Achilles was hopelessly in love with Patroclus. Does it excuse the outburst? The entirety evil abuse of his power and authority? No, of course not, but his feelings for Lamar were incredibly layered.

I think Walker would feel uncomfortable at first, as the others would come out one by one–and he'd pretend not to care. Eventually, he'd develop a special bond of trust with Ava and tell her about Lamar. (all questioning men need an emotional support lesbian!!) Then she'd tell him that, “well my guy, that's kinda gay.” I don't think he'd ever really label himself as bisexual, saying he's like, 99% straight with like, some exceptions. The others endlessly tease him about it–and about all the sweaty men in his working out posters and magazines. That being said, he's 100% a cis man.

Alexei Shostakov || Red Guardian: Like, straight? Has gotten boners while looking at pictures of Lenin and always found the Winter Soldier strangely hot. He also sometimes says some suspicious shit about his old comrades–but overall? Pretty straight. Was raised pretty conservatively but never cared too much about people's sexuality. Now, when it comes to his own... He's like, thought about it ever since joining this group? Because he wants to relate with them? So he's like. “I could ride my comrade........ maybe..... no I couldn't-” and then imagines himself having say gex, gets grossed out, moves on. This is like, a monthly occurance. HE REALLY WISHES HE WAS INTO MEN, so that he could relate to “THE LITTLE GAY PEOPLE” in his team. But, what can you do? He likes Melina. And honestly–who can blame him? He's also very much cisgender.

James “Bucky” Barnes: Cis. Bisexual with a heavy male lean OR gay with some internalized homophobia. He got more comfortable with it in the 21st century, after TFATWS. For all the flirting he did with women, the moment Steve did the same, this boy was internally tweaking.

This should be no surprise to anyone–Bucky has been Marvel’s favorite source of queerbaiting for as long as he's been in the MCU. Between Steve and Sam, Bucky comes with the shield in more ways than one, that's for sure.

His intense gay staring at Sam? The way Steve's voice and words were enough to pierce through his winter soldier mind control? His utter devotion to each of them, the pedestal he had them on? The mention of his online dating history in TFATWS, in which he vaguely mentioned that a lot of the profiles he looked through had profile pictures of people with tigers and shit–suggesting that he was looking at men's profiles–and addressed ever-so-vaguely by the show runner, telling people to “keep watching” without ever giving queer audiences the catharsis they hoped for. Anyways. Sambucky and Stucky real!

Melissa “Mel” Gold: Cis. Also, the biggest bisexual to ever bisexual. Was she attracted to Bucky? Yes. (although I don't find their relationship romantic at all, more like, a failed attempt at guidance.) But she also has her weird, toxic, problematic devotion to Val. Val shaped her worldview when she was still young–and part of her will always be loyal to her, because by now it's instinct. And she no longer regards Val as infallible or admirable. She knows what Val is–she's seen her miscalculate, she's seen her messed up, she's seen her vulnerable and human. And she knows more than anyone that Val isn't a good person at all. Still. She's in too deep, now. I could make an entire separate post on this dynamic.

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine: Sees men as a means to an end. Also seems women as a means to an end, but a hotter one. She's a cis lesbian, technically, but not culturally queer. She doesn't have an inch of internalized homophobia within her. She's fine. She doesn't care. She just cares about her public image, about having control–curated control.

Her marriage to Everett Ross was a PR move. She did have some genuine affection for him, for a while, but no attraction. Not really. So, she's not openly a lesbian, not at work, but also, she doesn't hide/deny it in private settings. She holds the power to squash any rumour that actually poses a threat, after all. And even if it got out somehow, she'd find her way around it.

She's the first to engage in meaningless rainbow capitalism–to change the profile pictures to rainbow logos–to come up with vaguely pride flag colored ‘New Avengers’ merch during pride month, and leave no trace of it the moment July hits. She's never cared to attend pride, never cared to fall deeply in love. Also, she only applies rainbow capitalism under democratic goverments. When the republicans are in office, It's radio-silent from miss Valentina. She squashes homophobia and bigotry in her personal life–but in business? She's no activist.

[shroompette]

141 x Clown Girl!Reader is eating my brain <3 (Also thank you all so so so much for helping me achieve more than 100 followers, I love you 💜)

Thinking about 141 who babysat Johnny's little nephew together ONCE and somehow ended up invited to his birthday party. The non-related men would have declined were it not for Mrs. MacTavish's insistence on feeding them something good (and perhaps have them introduced to some of the single women from the MacTavish clan.)

When the day comes and they show up with gifts, they're quickly separated by a swarm of Johnny's relatives who are curious about the friends he brought in.

Price ends up in the kitchen and volunteers to help with making lunch to which Mrs. MacTavish objects at first, but he manages to persuade her into at least letting him keep her and her sisters company. He swoops in here and there to hand one of them an utensil, spice or just a cup of water, gradually taking over each of their tasks and having them rest while he simultaneously keeps an eye on the beef and potatoes in the oven, mixes the cookie dough and casually chats with the women watching him, charming each and every one of them to the point one of Soap's aunts seriously considers poisoning her husband just to have a shot with John.

Gaz, meanwhile, was asked by Soap's sister - the mother of the birthday boy - to help with blowing up a couple more balloons for the little ones to play with. He obliges, spurred on by all the pretty cousins cheering him on, realizing after about half an hour that they've been staring at his arms bulge the entire time he's been operating the air pump (not like he's complaining, he's proud of what he's rocking).

The other half of the female relatives who weren't currently drooling over Gaz's body were in the living room swooning over Ghost, specifically the fact all the kids flocked to him like curious kittens. Last nail to the coffin was someone handing him a baby - although he looked as if someone just gave him a ticking bomb, he tried his best to entertain the tiny wiggling thing in order to keep it from crying, even gave it an awkward little bounce (call him The Ovary Whisperer the way the women who swore did not want another child suddenly changed their minds).

Johnny watched all of this occur with a wide grin, eventually taking pity on his buddies - though Price didn't seem too bothered - and plucked them away from their respective tasks to lead them out into the garden, picking up a few beers from the cooler and handing the cans to them.

While enjoying their break, they notice the kids rush from the blow-up castle to you, a Clown Girl that Soap's ma hired to entertain the kids in the afternoon.

Price arches an eyebrow, glancing at Johnny who seems just as surprised.

"Strange, usually my uncle Thomas dresses up as clown for the bairns."

"Maybe he wanted to be a part of the audience this year," Gaz hums, sipping his beer. Ghost doesn't say anything, only watches as you crouch to the kids' level and smile at them brightly, chirping about something that he's too far away to hear. On the enigma spectrum, you'd be on the opposite end from him; donned in a white button up with a flower in your pocket, rainbow suspenders and a frilly tutu accompanied by silly shoes, you're a picture perfect goof. You pick up the birthday boy and tickle his sides before making a show of not knowing your way towards the house standing just a few feet away, causing the children to giggle and tug on your sleeves, dragging you to the backdoor. The closer you get, the more the men notice what a cute little thing you are. Your make-up's not too heavy, some white foundation, pink cheeks and, of course, a big red nose. As you pass them, you flash them a bright smile and honk it, making the children giggle and nearly stomp over one another with how they skipped and begged you to let them have a go too.

The four men exchange a look and then gaze back at you, so lively and sweet. Neither says anything for a few moments before Soap speaks up:

"Ye think her titties honk too?"

The only reason Price hadn't smacked him on the back of the head was because Ghost was faster.

They quickly finish their beers and go back inside, following the trail of confetti and glitter that Johnny KNOWS is going to be a pain in the ass to vacuum later (he likely will pester Gaz into assissting him). They find you in the living room, expertly twisting long balloons into dogs and giraffes and whatnot, making sure every child has one to play with. It's sweet, the way you try to include everyone in your silly games, letting every child have a turn sitting in your lap and talk your ears off. You even get to hold the baby that Ghost was handed earlier, naturally softening your voice and calming your bouncy gait while maintaining your image as an entertainer, shoes squeaking loudly as you go round jokingly asking the parents whose pet bean it is.

With every passing moment, the men find you more and more adorable; you're funny, obviously good with children and your costume does very little to hide all your assets. And the way you smile so warmly? It makes Gaz want to go back to middle school, retake his geography test and change the answer to the question about the cause of ice caps melting to your full government name.

For the second time that day, the men's eyes meet in an unspoken agreement. They've shared pretty things before; and you'll certainly be the prettiest one yet.

masterlist

[whambamsami]

snowed in

pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: after a brutal breakup, all you want is a snowy escape in the mountains. what you get is a cabin that's very much occupied, a dangerously attractive roommate, and no exit strategy. you plan to avoid the situation by visiting the town center. often.

such a shame the weather has other ideas.

warnings: 18+, swearing, eventual smut! also potentially misleading descriptions of stowe vermont lol

note: why do i want it to be winter the second summer starts?!?

You’ve had it. After a humiliating breakup, you’re packing up your bags and heading north of the city. You’d felt like you were being suffocated lately, and a little time in isolation sounded perfect. 

No risk of running into your ex or his idiotic friends. Just you, your books, and silence. 

Sliding into the driver’s seat in your rickety car, neglected due to your time in the city, you turn on your music as loud as it can go, and put the old girl in drive. 

It was a few hours away, but honestly, you welcomed the extra time in the car. You’d always loved your old red truck, and some time blasting your breakup playlist to drown out your thoughts was like medicine to your overwhelmed mind. 

Time flew by, and soon, the skyscrapers cutting into the blue of the sky faded to evergreen forest spanning farther than you could see. 

You pass the weathered green sign for Stowe, Vermont- population, 5,261. The roads were already powdered with fresh snow, and your truck fishtailed a little as you turned on a winding road that cut right through the town center.

Mercantiles, country stores, and boutiques dotted the road, wreaths made of pine and red berries drenching each awning. Some doors wore velvet ribbons, windows glinting with the promise of holiday goodies inside. Old-fashioned rainbow lights wrapped around the trees lining the sidewalks, endearingly vintage. Each lamppost held a poster advertising the town’s Winter Festival, sure to impress, that would be taking place on December 18th. In just a few days.  

Charming.

Shame you weren’t very much interested in socializing just yet. 

The road narrowed as you passed through downtown, turning deeper into the forest. You cracked your window just for a second, letting the cold air bite your cheeks. It was crisp and clean, sharp with woodsmoke. For the first time in weeks, you let yourself breathe in all the way. 

Quiet. Peace and quiet. 

The kind that just didn’t exist in the city. Just the sound of snow settling on the branches of trees that probably existed long before you, and would probably exist long after. 

Exactly what you’d been looking for. 

You finally ease your truck into the driveway of your rental cabin, nestled at the edge of the woods. 

It looked like a postcard.

You could see into the front windows- amber light flickering from inside, maybe from a candle or an old lamp. The curtains were the kind of plaid that reminded you of cinnamon, all red and cream. 

 Snow blanketed the sloped roof and porch rails like powdered sugar, icicles catching the morning light like frozen glass. A stack of chopped firewood leaned against one of the beams of the wraparound porch, next to an old rocking chair covered in a heavy wool blanket that looked like it hadn’t been moved all season. Smoke curled gently from the stone chimney, making you smile at the thought of a fire waiting for you when you got inside.

Wait.

A fire?

You frown. The woman you rented from- Lisa, you think her name was- had told you that the cabin would be empty, clean, fully stocked. Locked up until you arrived. Had the previous renters forgotten to put their fire out? Was someone from the company doing a last-minute check?

You slowly make your way up to the porch, snow crunching under your boots. A doormat welcomed you cheerily. “Home Sweet Home.”

The door was unlocked, a bit warm to the touch.

That’s strange.

Then you hear it.

A man’s voice. Just one, gravelly and low, like he’s grumbling to himself.

A deep, mechanical sound is followed by a muffled curse. 

“Damn thing’s loose again…”

You freeze.

The sounds are coming from the other side of the cabin. Not scary, but certainly not pleased.

You glance back at your truck. You’ve watched enough Criminal Minds to consider just hightailing and trying your luck at one of the darling inns you had seen in town.

But curiosity got the best of you. Plus, you’d already paid the deposit. 

You inch around the side of the cabin, following the sounds, and you see him.

A man crouched by what you assume is the generator, sleeves rolled up despite the cold. You catch a glimpse of metal where his left arm should be. A prosthetic, maybe? Regardless, he’s massive. The faded flannel he’s wearing does nothing to hide broad shoulders and thick forearms that tense with every move he makes. There’s a wrench in his hand and a scowl on his face. 

He notices you as soon as you open your mouth.

“Uh…hi?”

He stands slowly. Tall, imposing. He’s got a bit of facial hair you didn’t notice before. His breath fogs the air as he exhales, blue eyes hardening as they meet yours. 

“You’re early.”

“Excuse me?”

“They said you weren’t coming for another two days,” he grunts, “Cabin’s not ready yet.”

“I have an email that said check-in is today.”

He mutters something under his breath, something like “...fucking Airbnb people…”, and pulls out a phone from his back pocket that looks so old, you thought it was a TV remote.

“No signal,” he says, clenching his jaw, “Figures.”

You inhale, steeling yourself.

“Well, I’m really sorry about any inconvenience, but I did kind of drive four hours through the mountains to get here. I’m really not picky, as long as there’s a bed and a bathroom, I swear I’ll stay out of your way. Is that ok?”

He takes a pause. Looks at you. Not really judging, more assessing you.

You brace for rejection, silently cursing yourself for not checking the hosts’ reviews. 

Instead, he puffs out a breath that fogs the air in front of him for just a second. 

“Cabin’s already warm. Your bedroom’s to the left. Bed’s made, there’s extra blankets in the closet.”

The tension in your shoulders lifts. 

“Thank you. I’ll stay out of your way until you finish up, promise.”

He grunts in response. Not rude, really. More a lazy acknowledgement, like he has work to do. 

He does, you suppose.

You move to grab your bags, but he’s quicker, looking at you like it was ridiculous you’d ever assume you’d carry your own luggage and striding toward the door. You follow behind him, dumbly.

And despite it all, despite the mix-up, the random stranger you still haven’t decided isn’t going to kill you, and the fact that you probably won’t be able to use your phone until you’re back in the city, it’s beautiful inside. 

The warmth of the fire kisses your cold skin just like you’d hoped it would, painting the living room in a soft glow, licking the dark wood walls and low timbered ceiling. Your bedroom, as promised, is to the left- simple but cozy, just like the rest of the house. A quilted bedspread, thick knit throw at the foot, and a stack of leather bound books on the windowsill are illuminated by a little reading lamp, already on like it was waiting for you. 

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he says, dropping your bags unceremoniously on the bed, “Figured you should know my name, y’know, since we’re gonna be roommates.”

You blink.

Hard. 

“Roommates?”

He raises an eyebrow, like you just asked if grass was green.

“Yeah, roommates. Did you not… did you not read the listing?”

“I-” You open your mouth. Close it again. “I thought I did. I skimmed it. There were photos and... rustic charm was mentioned a lot?”

Bucky’s mouth twitches, like he’s trying very hard not to laugh at you.

“There’s a whole paragraph about how the cabin is a shared living space for long-term maintenance,” and he nods outside to the generator, like that explains everything, “it’s right under the ‘mountain views’ section.”

You blink again. 

Your brain is going blank. 

Oh, god. 

You think back. You remember the listing. Cute pictures, great price, not too many reviews. You thought it was just new!

You were in such a hurry to book something and get the hell out of the city that you didn’t think to read the fine print. 

“I swear it looked like a solo rental.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, smirking a little, “looks can be deceiving. Hope you don’t mind early mornings.”

You stare at him. 

Bucky. The handyman, maintenance guy, whatever he was. Who lives here. 

And apparently, now, so do you. 

“You’re kidding.”

Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.

“Nope. Two bedrooms, though. Don’t get your hopes up.” 

And he has the gall to wink. 

You pray he thinks the pink in your cheeks is from the cold.

Thankfully, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes darting to the window.

The snow’s coming down a bit harder than before. 

“News says we’ve got a real one coming in tonight,” he adds, tugging his coat on top of his flannel, “supposed to be two feet of snow. Maybe more.” 

Your stomach sinks.

“Like… stuck-here kind of snow?”

“Like roads-buried, power-lines-down, hope-you-brought-extra-socks kind of snow. So if you want to grab any supplies in town, I’d advise you to go soon.”

So much for your relaxing vacation. 

“You’ll be alright,” he says, with a light smile that tells you your fear is written all over your face, already headed for the door again, “as long as you don’t mind sharing.”

[stevetwisp]

Ok, so I just found you but I had to read all of your bugmuffins comic, it's so cute.

But there's a part that left me confused, that I know is not important for the main plot of this comic, but if you could explain I would appreciated,

You comment on Sunset and the human world: But here they are already humanoid? besides the lack of magic (which later stops being a thing) how does the human world differ from this one? how would the events of Equestria Girls play in the version?

Sorry to bother you once again.

No bother at all! i like these kinds of questions;

so the biggest thing is that the characters in the comic are humanoid but not human- they still refer to themselves as ponies, changelings, pegasi, etc. etc. and still have all the same magic as in the show-

the human world is *our* world, and I do mean that literally- Sunset is currently walking around in our world, so the events in Equestria Girls do go a little differently-

Sunset arrives in the human world through a portal in a statue- when she arrived she still looked how she did in Equestria (with a horn and neon coloured skin) and uses a spell to disguise herself

Sunset siphons magic from the portal so she can use it to take over not just the high school but part of the town surrounding it; her magic though is causing irreversible damage to the students (psychosis, deformities) and is only taken down when Twilight chooses *not* to use magic to beat her. (they fist fight)

That's sort of my quick rewrite of the first movie, Rainbow Rocks I would actually keep mostly the same- though it's more framed as Sunset doesn't use magic and she's watching her friends experiment with some leftover magic- but when the sirens come they defeat them and Sunset decides to seal magic away from the human world for good-after this Sunset turns fully human and loses all magic and her horn- though she sees this as a good thing.

Friendship Games would also play out relatively the same as Sci-Twi basically cracks open Sunset's seal on magic.

In the Bugmuffins timeline, it's after the movies and she is currently travelling around the world seeking out other folks like her; lost magic beings or maybe other ponies in disguise, just soaking up all the knowledge she can.

[fryingpan1234567]

aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell” and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

[localfandomenjoyer]

I've been sent a lot of ideas for pairings other than Perpollo for the Kronide AU and, not going to lie, some of them are pretty interesting, so lets discuss romance for our girl.

Now obviously Perseleia Kronide is going to receive a lot of propositions even before her father is overthrown. She's interesting, beautiful and the Princess of Othrys, so I'd be more surprised if there is an unmarried titan who wouldn't go after her. Of course, Kronos himself isn't going to let just anyone even think about dating his little girl, which limits our candidates to the titans who might actually impress him.

Then we have the elder Olympian gods. Poseidon is out of the picture, no way am I writing that, but Zeus was also suggested to me as a candidate. Although his courting and marriage to Hera was a far cry from sunshine and rainbows, mythical sources presented him as a somewhat decent husband by the standards of the time. A Zeus that is more in-line with how the Ancient Greeks saw him (a wise, lawful enforcer of justice) has the potential to be a decent partner. I personally consider this the most interesting option, albeit one that would be a challenge to write. Perse doesn't get a picture-perfect relationship, but she and Zeus could still work together as rulers of Olympus, resulting in a better pantheon than what we see in canon.

Another idea was for Hades to proposes as a way of giving Perse an 'out' from marrying Zeus, resulting in her taking Persephone's place as Queen of the Underworld. This is a significantly less problematic partner for Perse, and I do think she could enjoy the Underworld, but it would limit her influence on the surface since chthonic deities don't tend to show up in myths. It is also a major loss for Tumblr's favourite mythological couple (after Odyssey and Penelope). One user also suggested that Perse could be Persephone in this AU, with Demeter being her closest sister instead of mother. Plus Nico, Bianca and Hazel get a cool stepmom and she gets to comfort the fallen heroes.

Well, what are your thoughts? Leave a comment or send me a message if you have anything to share.

EDIT: I made a poll

[codemonki]

Finished up some mane six redesigns!! and the CMC

Some thoughts I had about their designs under the cut

Rarity: I wanted a member to be green and since she and Twilight both had purple going on, and Rarity has the gem thing going on I put it on her to be green. I tried to lean into more emerald and turquoise tones,.

Sweetie Belle: In Cannon rarity and her look pretty similar already so I didn't feel like I had to diversify the pallet to hard between them. I did want to push her fun swirly hair more though bc it was fun

Fluttershy: I love love love when people make fluttershy carry characteristics of flutterbat and I wanted to keep it. Within my AU Bat-Ponies can be created or born, and she was one that was created. Shes a fruit-bat variant though due to the nature of how she got the sanguine curse (and therefore takes in nutrients like a certain bunnicula character!). She does have a glamour ofc bc I think she'd be very shy about her sudden changes and twilight would be willing to help. I do like to think that in later seasons she stops wearing the glamour as much.

Not pictured here: But just like how rarity has a sort of work mode, fluttershy does too. in it her hair is tied up in a bun with no hair in her face, AND her tail is also all bunned up to!

Rainbow Dash: She flies fast, goggles will help with the amount of times she's seen crying while doing that. Her hair wasnt rainbow until after the sonic rainboom, and has some Lichtenburg scars on her back legs from it.

Scootaloo: I already like scootaloos design for the most part, I just wanted to inverse the pattern a bit from rainbow by having her bottom be darker.

AppleJack: I wanted to give her, her mothers hair texture <3 opted for some more natrual looking marks since shes already pretty down to earth in comparison to the others, i did try to make her build look more stocky but i might have to push that more in other drawings.

Apple Bloom: I also like her design in cannon! Since I didnt do anything to crazy to applejacks pallet, i didnt have to shift things too bad for her. Just added an extra bow, and similar markings to AJ and voila.

Pinkie: I wanted to lean into clown a bit with her, i see others give her clown make up an I think she'd have fun with it. I can see her sometimes having mroe intricate/wacky designs on her face but for the most part she sticks to simple color blocking. Her coat is much more vibrant when she's not covered in rock dust! The yellow in her hair is tinsel btw, rarity helped her put it in her hair. (ie, she took her to the correct stylist). I also felt as if she's someone who'd want her hair out of her way when she's in the thick of it, but I can see her bun falling out all the time due to the band breaking :)

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Reacting To Crazy Colored Hair

A/N: Not requested (I'm also 98% sure I haven't already written this, but I think I just thought about it so much I convinced myself I did) loosely based off my fun hair dye addiction and the fact that I went back to brown. Rip fun hair for a little while lol 💕

Butcher doesn't quite understand, but he's not against it. He never minds the towels you've ruined or the pillowcases you've stained. That doesn't really bother him. If anything, he finds it a little endearing: you're always leaving remnants of yourself around. He just doesn't get it, though. Becca basically picked out his haircut, and he's had it relatively the sane ever since. It grows out and gets a bit wild, but it's always the same general idea. You're constantly changing the color depending on the season, your mood, what dyes you have available. You're not the most pristine when you're doing it yourself (dye gets everywhere), but he never notices. If you're happy with the outcome, so is he. It's really not a big deal to him, though he does favor blue a bit more than the other colors. You're not sure what it is about that specific color, but he adored it instantly.

Hughie thinks it's great. He's had the same haircut since he was a teenager, and before that, he had an atrocious cut he'd worn since he was a toddler. He doesn't really change his look all that much. If he likes it, he sticks with it. You've never been like that, though, and that's what he appreciates about you. You'll dye your hair late into the night, needing to change the color, unable to stand it any longer. It gets on everything, all over the bathroom, and most of the collars of your shirts (and his when you steal them) are stained, though he doesn't seem to notice. There's always a grand reveal as to what color you chose, and he has a ranking of ones he likes the best, but assures you you rock whatever color or colors you choose. You once did rainbow, and he was stunned silent. He had this goofy smile on his face like he was falling for you all over again. The brighter, the better, at least that's what he's constantly telling you.

Annie adores your hair colors. She definitely favors pink over every other color, but she says it's unfair you can pull off anything. She never dyed her hair any fun colors, but she was able to talk her mom into getting her the chalky spray stuff once for Halloween. She loved it! It was bubblegum pink, and she's been chasing that high ever since. She loves that you're so easily able to express yourself. Annie would be too self-conscious, afraid everyone was looking at her or making fun of her. If people have an issue with what you do with your hair, that's their problem. Annie definitely helps you out when you're updating the color, mostly so the back turns out even. One time, while she was a little tipsy, she used some extra dye and put a streak in her hair. She felt so effortlessly cool, and you loved to see her smile. It washed out eventually, but it was definitely a look she thought about going back to.

M.M. thinks it's a bit childish, but with the work you do, if that's what's going to help you stay sane, then he's all for it. It definitely wasn't ideal when you were in hiding, and the sink you "bathed" in was stained green, along with all the towels. He wasn't mad, not at you, but at the dye. Why was it so damn messy? He knows it makes you an easier target (how could anyone forget the person with bright green hair), but if it brings you even an ounce of happiness, it's fine by him. Everyone's clinging to something, and your thing just happens to be outrageous hair colors. Once in a while, you'll ask him for help, afraid you've missed a spot with bleach or dye. He's gentle when he fixes it, his perfectionist ways coming out. He'll tell you to turn slowly so he can see anywhere else you might have missed. It drives him mad when you ask someone else and they say it's fine when you've clearly missed a whole patch underneath the first layer. He's meticulous and detail oriented, which is why you only ask him when you have no one else. You love Marvin, but the process becomes painstaking. It's really not a huge deal if you missed one or two areas you can't even see.

Frenchie loves it when you change the color. Personally, he loves it when you do red or orange, something fiery and bold. Because he was goth/alternative as a teenager and young adult, Frenchie is basically your co-stylist. He's all about color theory and having the right materials and not leaving the bathroom until it's exactly what you wanted. He couldn't care less about the stained tub or the various hair dye t-shirts you've ruined over the years. The mess doesn't bother him at all. Unlike M.M., Frenchie isn't a perfectionist at all. The way he goes about helping is messy and a little odd, but the colors always come out bright and beautiful. Like Annie, he's given himself streaks and highlights and, once on a dare, dyed his whole head and eyebrows bright orange to match you. Kimiko still brings it up as an atrocious look, but he thought he looked hot. He loves that you're expressing yourself just like he does with his fashion.

Kimiko thinks your hair is so fun, so cool, so chic. She's told you before her favorite was when you went purple. Something about that color brings her so much joy. When you asked her to help you the first time, she was intimidated. She thought she would do something wrong, like mess up the color or fry your hair off. You assure her that if it's a disaster, it's all on you. Since then, she's become your stylist buddy. She realized the dye you use is basically paint, that you have realistic expectations and have learned from past mistakes. Whenever you change or update the color, she's the first to tell you how great it looks! She dreams of dyeing her hair, but she's never been sure about the damage it causes or if it'll look okay. You always offer to give her a small streak she can hide just in case she doesn't like it. So far, she's always thanked you, but she denied the offer, but one day, she's going to work up to it. Baby steps. For now, she can admire your hair, agreeing with Annie it's unfair you can pull off every color effortlessly.

Bonus! Homelander thinks it's weird. Because your supe abilities, your hair changes color depending on the powers you use. The green, the blue, the pink, all of it drives him crazy. He makes sure you know, when you're in his presence, go back to your natural color. When you go to press conferences or interviews with purple or orange hair, he becomes irrationally angry. Not only does he find your powers juvenile, beneath him, the fact that you choose to live with fun colored hair instead of changing it back immediately makes no sense to him. You make sure to avoid conflict, to look as normal as possible when you're together. Everyone else finds it cool, agreeing at you can pull off every color you have, but they all know to keep these thoughts quiet and to themselves. The last time Noir 2.0 said he liked your hair, everyone flinched, anticipating violence. Thankfully, Homelander just kicked him out of the room instead of needing another replacement.

[k1ttenblood]

Headcanons for my Modern!Tlou AU

Hopefully this adds extra context for my random posts lmao.

Disclaimer: All of these photos are from Pinterest, just some headcanons for what I think the characters look like in my universe. Might expand to the other characters later.

Also I'm NOT a fandom blog. Don't follow unless you wanna follow an aesthetic blog 💖👍

Edit: Added some keychains for the main crew! And songs that remind me of everyone

Ellie

- Childhood bestfriend. You guys were neighbors but you actually met during school when you were in the library watching the Magic School Bus. She strikes me as a Goosebumps kid

- You'd go on road trips with Joel together, and as adults you randomly fuck off into Ellie's car and drive somewhere for the weekend

- Ellie had to have watched SpongeBob all the fucking time as a kid, it's the only way Joel could have her sit still for hours. Even if it cost him a bit of his sanity every time the sponge from hell laughed

- Not a picky eater but does prefer the basics, aka what she's most comfortable with. I think the go-to meal Joel makes for her is mashed potatoes, chicken nuggets mixed veg and gravy. You can invite her over for a dinner party and feed her mac and cheese and hot dogs, she's tearing it UP

- Loser lesbian at her core, what else do you expect from her

- Funnily enough I do HC her as a sneakerhead despite wearing her decaying converse all the time

- Grew up playing soccer because Joel heard extracurriculars were important for kids. She sucked at it though. Begged to stop playing and did astronomy clubs instead. Actually wasn't all that interested in art class, she felt like it rushed the creative process

- She had a serious Justin Bieber phase, fight me on it. I have a headcanon that she performed a dance to one of his early songs in middle school for a girl that she liked. Knowing her, it probably worked

- Speaking of, I feel like she's a good dancer. Shockingly good, even

- Likes rap and dad rock, listens to country music only when she visits the south with Joel because "It just feels right"

- Loves casual hangouts. You drive into a parking lot, she puts her feet up on the dash and vapes, you both share the most ridiculous McDonald's order and have a yap session

- Working with her is like working with Mordecai and Rigby rolled into one clown. You call her Rigby when she’s being a brat, but she insists that she’s more like Mordecai because she draws 🙄

- Nearly everyone headcanons her with adhd and I agree! That being said she suffers like hell from rejection sensitivity, shoves it down with brute force and weed

- Probably down to do anything from impromptu grocery runs to bicycling for 4 hours to the middle of nowhere

- Arrest me for this but I believe she had a fuckboy moment. Not a heavy one, just briefly in college before she crumbled under the weight of her greasy ways

- Video game streamer Ellie is canon to me, she likes horror games the most

- Pretends not to be into gossip, but your weekly pizza nights say otherwise. Tells you everything about Joel and Tess's relationship, everything about what the library patrons have said while she was within earshot, the crazy thing she saw the manager at the deli by her apartment doing, you name it.

- All that said, girlie can't hold water. Don't tell her any secrets

- """"Begrudgingly""""" hangs out with you and Dina during your "girly" hangouts, will not admit that she had a good time shopping for sundresses and watching the 2 of you try on the most ridiculous wedges you could find. Did have a good time watching you fall into the closest clothing pile after putting on 7 inch rainbow pom-pom sandals. Whines when you 2 listen to Taylor Swift or watch early 00s chick-flicks

- Pets every stray cat she sees, is personally offended when they run away from her and sulks

- HUFFS the air when you drive past fast-food chains and gas stations

- Gets the worst hangovers, whines like a bitch the whole day

- She works in the kids department of the library, spends entirely too much time playing games with them

- You referred her to the library work as a page until she graduated from her undergrad program, then she joined the rest of the team

Dina

- Literally THE girl best friend

- Has a lot of friends, but very few that she considers actually close

- Annoyingly good at almost everything. Speaking another language? Got it. Karaoke? Amazing. Baking? You wouldn't guess that she had no idea how to make cupcakes. She can probably fly and glow in the dark too

- Is the perfect extrovert companion. Drags you to parties on occasion, but doesn’t leave you alone the whole time because she’s an angel

- Wears cute outfits all the time, even her lazy outfits are perfect

- The libra energy is strong with this one, maybe leo moon and aquarius rising? She looks up your birth chart the second you become established friends. “Ooooh yeah, no no yeah this all makes sense now.” “What’s that supposed to mean 🙂” “Oh honey… nothing 🤭”

- Carries an assortment of lip balm in her purse, a disturbing amount if we’re being honest

- Doesn't play video games but is crazy good and wii sports and just dance

- Never has a hangover. She may not be human considering the way she throws back shots

- Met when you started your first day at the library

- She mainly works the front desk

- Def thought you didn't like her when you were first brought onto the library team. She's very bubbly and extroverted, your introverted reserved nature might've come off the wrong way at first

- 2 weeks of awkward conversations eventually morphed into an even more awkward silence. She still smiles at you and greets you/says goodnight when you leave, but the unease is *strong*. Now you have to think on your feet.

- Oh? Corporate 101??? Everyone loves donuts. You drag in about 24 donuts the next day.

"Y/N, you know you really didn't have to-"

"-Jesse through mouthfuls of glazed donut- Don't listen to her y/n, you're a goddess."

"It's fine!! Seriously, it's just a thank you gift for uhh, being so cool and nice."

- You really saved your ass there, especially after a few awkward “Are you guys watching -insert tv show- omg I love this character” nudges. You’re no extrovert but it works, or they’re taking pity on your strained attempts at socializing. A win is a win

- Very soon you’ve made 2 actual friends!!

- Your first one on one hangout is at the mall. Dina goes crazy for bath and body works/white barn. You guys tried to have blind sniff test but 10 minutes in everything smelled the same :/// The day ends with lots of giggling and froyo

- Sleepovers with her are the best. You’ve got tarot cards, movies, self care goodies, snacks. This became a special monthly ritual that Ellie totally wasn’t jealous of once she found out. She gets to join you guys… sometimes

- Will take secrets to the grave, all the tea from the sleepovers never leaves the bedroom. Girl has a mind like a steel fortress. Meaning she doesn’t budge when Ellie asks her 270 questions about some secret you guys shared a month ago

Jesse

- Works with the seniors and their computers in the library. He's got the patience of a god

- He seems so chill but I feel like his weak spot is board games. Quickly loses composure if it even looks like you got an unfair advantage “I’m not saying that you’re cheating but are you FUCKING KIDDI-”

- That being said, mario kart is also off limits with your group. All 4 of you barely looked at each other for 3 days after one night-in of FrIeNdLy gaming

- You would think dina is the glue holding the group together but I think it’s him

- He’s as chill as it gets, his road rage episodes are like “-sticks head out of window- Dude… 👎”

- Cool big brother energy x12 is diligent and responsible, it’s almost sickening to you and Ellie sometimes. Mostly endearing, like when he chased an older lady to give her her pocketbook that she dropped, but it looked like a strange large man was running after her so she beat him with her umbrella. She was super apologetic and gave him a $5 after, though

- Lives and breathes soup?? The employee break room is 50% containers of soup from the Whole Foods down the block

- Doesn’t get horrible hangovers but is sweaty and giggly the whole event

- Is somehow both an old man and a kid in one 20 something year old’s body. You can take him out for his birthday and give him a little birthday hat and he’s ecstatic as he blows out his rainbow sparkler candles. But you asked him what he wanted as a gift 5 separate times and he literally only wanted socks and a new iron 😐

- The human furnace of the group. It's a strange sight for the passerbys that see 3 women huddling under him while waiting in line for pizza during the winter

- Not so secretly mooches off Dina’s self care stash. She’s going crazy thinking that she somehow lost 3 high end rice water hair masks and 2 aloe under eye patches. That is until she walks into the bathroom and sees Jesse living his best life in the bathtub. With her Lily of the Valley bath bomb, of course. 

- The first one on one hangout was actually an accident. You bumped into each other while running errands. Somehow picking up floss at CVS turned into 2 hours of fooling around at Costco and eating a concerning amount of samples. He helps you bring home your groceries and spend the evening eating a massive bag of frozen fries and watching old reality shows. He loves the early episodes of the Kardashians and pretends not to have a favorite (it’s clearly Khloe).  

- He's the glue that holds the group together on bad days. He consoles Ellie when she’s having her bimonthly “my friends hate me” spiral, calms Dina down when she gets burnt out and goes totally silent, and brings you back down to earth when you’re overstimulated and miserable. He rarely gets upset but when he is, Dina “razzle dazzles him up”, in Ellie’s words (you didn’t dare ask for the details). That, or you all smother him with doe eyes and favors. 

Abby

- Acts like a shepherd dog. I think in every universe, Abby has a need to lead and protect. I imagine that without the obvious external pressures (haha zombie apocalypse hehe) she’d put those instincts into productive management, if her father is alive. But I hate excessive heartbreak so he’s alive here 🥺 

- Pretends to hate baby talk and cheesy nicknames, but also loves when she gets to lay on top of you under her favorite blanket and you massage her scalp and kiss her nose and call her your snuggly puppy. Also does the most adorable nose wrinkle when she scoffs that adds to it

- She's afraid of heights because she lost her mom in a private jet accident when she was little. Her dad tried to push for therapy but it wasn’t effective at her young age

- Really quiet and always looks composed. Probably has elevator music playing in her head half the time if she’s not reading or working though

- Hella RBF after work, she just wants to go home, bathe, eat, get some kisses and sleep.

- Referring to P1 of Pride and pretentiousness. In this AU I HC that she had a past of being a bit naive in her relationships. She believes in honesty, solidarity, and protecting her loved ones. These qualities are hard to come by in her rich kid world

- She's very authentic and believes in personal integrity, she's always been this way. Also she's a massive nerd and she's tall and wears glasses, I have a hard time believing she didn't get teased in middle school and parts of high school for all that lmao. She started her weight lifting journey around this time, partially for the teasing and partially because she hated seeing other people be harassed for no reason.

- She doesn't go to the hair salon. Absolutely hates people touching her hair, it feels too intimate for her. Absolutely melts when you brush it for her after a relaxing bath, you joke that you can see her tail wagging

- Joined a youth military summer camp from junior to senior year of high school. The original goal was for her to properly join at some point, but being there opened her eyes to a lot of worldly prejudice that had been instilled in her. It was like her champagne bubble world view popped.

- Had a difficult time coming out to her father. He's super busy and tired, and she's his practically picture perfect daughter. It obviously goes over really well and Jerry pretends to be clueless but I think he had a hunch after 9 year old Abby gave another girl her jacket and walked her home from the playground

- Ticklish feet, soft hands, buff mixed with fluff because she's got puppy fat on her tummy and face

- Definition of quiet luxury. Doesn't like to make a spectacle pretty much ever

- Is definitely the quiet, strong, dignified type. The two of you resemble a more classic type of couple, in some ways. The older couples at her country club love it

- She doesn't date much, she doesn't have the time and doesn't want to make the investment, but once you're together the feelings nearly suffocate her

- So clingy in private, you guys are attached at the hip, even when you're sleeping. There's pretty much no "side of the bed", you're attached like octopuses

- Matching onesies 👀 She wears a puppy onesie and you wear a cat one

- Fights between you two aren't common. Disagreements are usually exchanged exasperated looks at best, or silence, pouting, and apologetic kisses at worst

- I don't write smut but: I feel like between Abby coming out in her late teens, being a bit guarded, and constantly working, she's built up a lot of needs/frustration. Once the two of you are together the dam bursts. The sex can be anything from sweet and vulnerable to passionate and possessive

- Jumping on the "Abby has basically no alcohol tolerance" bandwagon. She sips wine sometimes and that's it. Even then she's a little silly and needy after 1 glass

- She's never watched SpongeBob. Ellie nearly keeled over when she heard that. You only found out because she asked what you guys were talking about when you quoted the Bubblestand episode. Had absolutely no idea why the 2 of you were laughing at a stuffed elephant and calling it a giraffe. Ellie isn't too sure what you see in someone so uncultured

[brittle-doughie]

Hey Brittle, with the 2024 Summer Olympic Games just only 3 months away, I got a story idea. The Y/N Olympics, Y/N Cookie's loves sports that he decides to create the Y/N Olympic Games. A multi-event sports competition where cookies of all rarities ( including Legendaries ) can compete their hearts out and win medals ( to some, Y/N's affection )🏅 in a variety of land and aquatic, single, and team sport events. The same will also go for the Winter Olympics. The medals will be handed out by Y/N Cookie themselves during the award ceremonies. They will also host both the opening and closing ceremonies.

Superstar! The Cookie Olympics Event!

Welcome back, CookieRunners. I’m Brittle and the Summer Olympics are nearly at our doors, so what better way to acknowledge it then to center an event around the occasion.

In this update, Y/N Cookie notices that a number of cookies around them have quite the talent in their hobbies and professions. So what better way to see who’s the best in what category then to host the first annual Cookie Olympics, where cookies far and wide, mundane to legendary will compete to see who is the best and win medals.

The turnout is big with a number of competitors entering the games, some for the glory and medals, while others have a more lowkey reason of wanting to impress Y/N with their feats of strength. Events can be arranged from solo to team matches and land or water challenges, so that everyone has a chance to prove themselves. Who will try their best and claim the gold for these games? Find out by playing the event mode.

Along with this update are the costumes that a number of cookies will receive.

There’s Y/N Cookie’s Epic costume, the Olympic Announcer. You can’t have an entertaining event without setting the mood and hype, and what better way then to be an enthusiastic announcer!

Next is Choco Bar Cookie’s Super Epic costume, the Trailblazer of the Track. Being a stunt double has already trained her dough to the limit, running the track is a cakewalk for this cookie!

And now we have Skating Queen Cookie’s Rare costume, the Ballerina of the Ice. Nobody knows how to work their skating shoes more then Skating Queen Cookie, and she aims to prove it to everyone that she IS queen.

Lastly, we have an Epic costume of Muscle Cookie’s Champion of the Ring. All of that protein and working out has paid off as Muscle Cookie becomes an unstoppable force to be reckoned with in the boxing ring!

The Rock, Paper, Scissors event is making a comeback with this update, because even the little things are considering for the games!

A heap of new Trials are also coming to a select number of older cookies who are currently lacking one that are long overdue for one.

For the mid-update, a new wave of competitors will be entering the games including the likes of Cream Soda and Cherry Cola Cookie, the games are heating up as the competition grows!

I thank you for coming onto this update preview for today, and have this totally real (not) coupon code for Rainbow Cubes. Remember to stay hydrated, friends.

OLYMPICGAMESRUN

[toon-tales]

Hiya! Ok, so, I'm here to analyze, again. But! Not a scene. I'm here to analyze the evolution of the one and only #Broppy, from the first movie. I've been planning to include the three movies and the holiday specials, but I figured I can't add that many pics in one post. I can only add ten, soooo-

Let's take it from the beginning: the first appearance for Branch.

If you ask me, he was being rude, maybe even embarrassed Poppy in front of everyone. Yeah, I love Branch, and he's my baby and all, but dude, you shouldn't have done that, especially not in front of everyone. Like, yeah, we later know his backstory and his grandma and his brothers, but still, it's not Poppy's fault, he shouldn't have treated her like this. Sure, her believing life was all cupcakes and rainbows might have been provoking to Branch, but he's still at fault, and I think more people need to make peace with that.

Also, something I noticed, is that Branch and Poppy were close even before the events of the first movie, cause, literally everyone calls her 'Princess Poppy', except the snack pack. They just call her Poppy, and the fact that Branch also calls her Poppy just proves they were close.

Now, later, we see Branch holding Poppy's scrapbook, then staring at even more scrapbooks on the shelves. Like, cute, sure, but it's not what you feel, it's what you show, Branch.

Okay, now, this scene:

The fact that Poppy was knocking on the rock just means she never got into Branch's bunker before. But she knows the address, so that counts. Maybe he had given it to her when they first met in case she needed something after he'd found her hurt with a broken arm or something then they became friends- I'm totally drifting from the post. Sorry about that.

Now, there are two theories:

Annnywayyyy, let's focus on the scene after:

"Which is why I have to ask you..." she hesitated, before continuing, "will you go to Bergen town with me and save everyone?"

She hesitated! She freaking hesitated! Meaning? She probably never asked Branch to help her before. She surely had problems in her life, but she also had her friends, so I belive she always went to them whenever she was in trouble. But now those friends aren't here, which forces her to ask the person who she trusts the most after them. Branch. And, disappointedly, he refuses, because of the fear he's living in.

Moments later, Poppy surprisingly invites the entire village to Branch's bunker to keep them safe. Which was wrong of her. True, she was trying to protect everyone, but using Branch's house without his consent was wrong. Sorry. Sure, it was the safest place for now, but that still doesn't justify it. You can see he was clearly annoyed (which she loved). But I don't really blame her, just like I don't really blame Branch. They both did wrong.

Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip- hold... rightttt here:

Ah, yes. That scene. Now, look. He showed up, because he knew there was no way Poppy could do this by herself, and he wasn't wrong. Poppy, in return, also knew he would come, because it was the third hug time by then.

"I guess we were both right." That line. It speaks volumes for their relationship, yet no one talks about it! They both look at things from different perspectives, BUT, it doesn't mean either of them is wrong.

Like when they arrived at the troll tree: "The troll tree." "Bergen town."

Or when they found out the others were still alive: "They're alive?" "And on a silver platter too. We were both right."

Please writers and artists, we need more content with this line. Add it to your fanfics/art!

Skip, skip, another skip (yes, I skipped the part where Branch tries to avoid talking about his feelings cause it's kinda... i don't know, i just don't know what to say about it. It's sorta obvious), skiiiiiip, annnndddd, right here:

THEIR. FIRST. HUG.

My babies, oh my sweet precious babies. They've been through so much together, and finally, Branch has found it in himself to actually open up about his past (mostly).

I've spoken about this scene in more details in this post.

Now, we're going to talk about one of the most important scenes in the history of Broppy. This:

Branch is talking. He's always used to being in the shadows, never helping anyone, and here he was, helping a Bergen. If that's not a big change, I don't know what is.

And let me tell you, not only Branch was changing in this scene. See Poppy?

She's learning to look deeper into things, even persons. She's finally realizing that Branch, the grumpy, sarcastic troll, might not be as bad as she thought. They're both developing.

Until the rules are swapped.

Branch is the one to find the bright side, and Poppy is the one to cover it. And you can see how disappointed he is.

"I can't wait to see the look on your face when you realize the world isn't all cupcakes and rainbows." But when it happened, Branch realized that this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want her to be like him, because this was him - a person who doesn't see the cupcakes and rainbows in life, not even in the slightest.

The way he was trying to cheer her up

And the way she actually smiled. Poppy was still there, her happiness was inside, not gone but hidden, and Branch was trying to find it again.

Yet she didn't even notice her own colors returning. Maybe because she was focused on the change in Branch? She wasn't startled when he sang at first, she wasn't happy, just like he used to be. He didn't use to care, until later, when his feelings began to resurface again, because Poppy helped him. Just like he was doing now. Neither did he notice his colors coming back

Aaaaaand, I think the rest doesn't really need analyzing.

Feel free to add or comment on anything.

Part two

Part three

[varian-and-the-crystal-empire]

You know I can talk about pony stuff here idk why I’m holding it in my head

I think people are too focused on what they think each of the elements of harmony are and not what the writers might have been going for and that’s why they get bent out of shape about AJ and Dash

The way I’ve always seen it is that honesty is an easier stand in word for a concept kids might struggle to understand: integrity. It’s not just about not lying, it’s about doing the right thing even when it’s hard. And that’s why it came from Rock hoofs strength.

As for loyalty and Rainbow, the biggest times I remember her loyalty being tested it wasn’t her being disloyal that was the trigger, it was the fact she’s loyal to her friends but also her hometown. Loyal to the crown but also her family and friends in Cloudsdale. Loyal to Tank at the detriment of the weather ponies.

Maybe I’m wrong but I think the reason why the pillars aren’t one for one the same

Hope and laughter are optimistic

Healing others is almost always kind

Bravery and loyalty go hand in hand

It’s her generosity that truly made Mistmane beautiful

Honestly and strength are required for integrity

And sorcery and magic are related but not exactly the same. Magic is a force that sorcery uses, but magic in the FiM case is also the spark of connection