#its incredibly sweet to be interested in my views thank you so much

[petrichoraline]

why do you think everyone is so hyped up for OF? i'm not really a fan of any of the pairings or storylines like this one so i'm just here like enjoying seeing all the mutuals lose their minds lmao without really getting it i guess

took me a bit to answer because i wanted to make sure to find this post to link, i remembered it as a very nice and insightful post but for the most part it goes a bit off-topic, the answer is basicaly in the last few sentences (i do recommend going through it though!!)

i personally might be in the same boat as you, dear, as i just got reminded of the show today and my dash won't let me forget about it BUT MY MIND IS ON HIDDEN AGENDA. WHERE EVERYONE'S WAS JUST YESTERDAY i cannot keep up with this fandom goodness gracious

i was excited way back when it was announced but it was never at the level of people who'd get asked what they're most excited for from the gmm23 lineup and everyone and their mom's answer was ONLY FRIENDS DUH..with time my enthusiasm kinda faded out and was replaced by, dare i say, annoyance. it's natural when you aren't as hyped about smth as everyone else seems to be. at times i do get a bit more excited though! who knows, i might be unbearable once the show drops hahah, i haven't really gotten myself acquainted with the characters, i avoid speculating and making up theories so i hope whatever only friends turns out to be, it's fun 😊

but yeah, i think people are excited about the drama of it all. p'jojo has been teasing non-stop, it will give us favourite actors in messy relationships not contained within their assigned pair but with everyone and anyone else. it gives off the feeling a crossover does though it isn't one. seeing neo who only got a more seirous role just this past year with the eclipse as a pos gremlin wreaking havoc is new and exciting! mark as a sad pining bub that will undeniably make us scream "love, do BETTER"? EXCITING. topmew seem like they're gonna bring so much angst to the table in a more horifying way than the melancholy that sanray seem to promise. firstkhao are the basic beloved pair that everyone would love watching even if they don't tune in for them specifically - theyre great actors who also have amazing chemistry with each other and we have proof they will bring their all into it. smth else that goes for them is the fact many want to see them go beyond what the eclipse fave them in terms of opportunities to be intimate. force is about to give villain, I can feel it, and as much as it scares me I think it's very intriguing. forcebook are another established couple who are besties irl and have shown theyre comfortable and can bring that spark, this show gives us the chance to witness just how far that actor compatibility can take their performance. and markneo!! theyre absolutely a wild card. many of us are fond of them because of their memorable side roles but we haven't seen them doing anything spicy with their established partners (louis and ford). and that is another thing, theyre a completely fresh pair unlike the other two so we don't know exactly what they're capable of or how they act off of each other, that's also super fun to anticipate. I personally am going wild about papang becoming a part of the mess as a part of nick's plot, there seems to be a wlw pair too, jennie is also present - there are plenty of smaller appearances and details aside from the main couples and their plots that make viewers curious. yes, sex portrayed by fave actors who dont usually portray those scenes is a big deal but it's not just that, boundaries are being pushed with this show and the crew and cast seem incredibly excited to be working on it. it feels like a passion project and that enthusiasm gets to the fans as well. it's true however that many will be disappointed because they keep projecting their ideas of what the show should and would be on it and it simply can't be everything at once. a part of the overall excitement comes from the fandom discussions and participation but that is what gets theories to evolve and expectations to grow which is risky.

tldr: favourite actors in roles that show them either build on their already established chemistry or challenging an inexplored part of their acting skill; a big bunch of said actors tangled up in dramatic scandals - everyone is involved with everyone, gives a collab vibe; jojo's unique lens and directing style; other actors and plots that are yet unrevealed etc.

that's what I've noticed at least 😁 sorry to go on a tangent and thank you sincerely for the ask, hope you get to enjoy the show! i'm sure there will be plenty to appreciate about it even if the premise isn't your cup of tea 💗 and enjoy everyone having fun with it, when one's moots are happy one should also be happy 🥰 even if it can get a bit much lol we'll be getting some yummy meta and gifsets so we're winning anyways ✌️feel free to update me on your feelings on it haha, I'd love to hear from you again 💓

[angelshadowsinger]

oh my fucking god your work is incredible! holy literal shit balls i have never felt that entranced by a fanfiction until reading yours. thank u thank u thank u your azriel is PERFECT.

also i’m totally gonna need your thoughts on azriel sharing with his shadows 👀

re: ummmmmmm call me parmesan bc u got me CHEESIN!?!?!! that is literally sO sweet of you to say, i am touched 🥺 as a fic author you always worry if you’re making the character OOC and, it just makes me so happy to hear your praise!! thank you so much anon~ ♥︎ This HC is a bit more than what you’ve asked for, but it does includes it, so pls enjoy!

Azriel’s Shadows Around his Mate Headcanons

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

In my eyes, Azriel’s shadows are a part of him. There hasn’t been much insight that Maas has given us with shadowsingers and their capabilities in general, but this is what I choose to believe~

Since Azriel’s shadows were perhaps the first of his powers, and the first entity to treat him with some kindness/obedience, I think he would be very in tune with them and he himself would consider them a part of him. He has had over 500 years to develop his relationship with them and therefore, I believe once he found his mate, his shadows would be just as captivated with her as he himself.

Obviously, Azriel is a total simp for his girl (but that’s another hc in its own), so that means his shadows are too. Honestly, it could be viewed as annoying how often at least a few of his shadows are constantly at your side. He’s used to having them totally loyal to him, so now that he has to share them with you… well, it’s not really actually that cumbersome, because he knows that even when you two are apart, he’ll be sure to know if you need him/his help. Though he has a couple less to send out on his spymaster business, technically, the ones with you are acting as his spies anyway. Just, with a far more interesting and important subject.

His shadows do a variety of things for you, making your everyday life easier and more pleasant. Just as their master, the shadows like to give you princess treatment.

For example, they go out of their way to help you with mundane things. If you’re making dinner and a tomato rolls off the cutting board, they’re pushing it back to you. When you’re putting on a dress, they’re helping you with the zip and clasp. If you’re writing something and your pen runs out of ink, somehow they’ve procured a new one that matches your exact preferences.

Both Az and his shadows notice the small things. They take notes of your likes and dislikes, what makes you giggle, cry, or provides you comfort.

At times when he’s away for a long while, and you’re missing him, they will deliver small gifts to you. A couple flowers tied with twine, native to the strange lands he’s currently working in. A special spice he knows you love to use in the foods you share with him. An especially-delicious pastry made with your favorite fruit/flavor. Though the shadows themselves do not find you gifts, they are happy to deliver whatever Az requests they send.

They also will take anything you wish to send him. Whether he’s in another country, or simply training at the House of Wind with his brothers, his shadows will deliver your every gift. Most of the time it’s little sweets or a lunch you’ve packed. Sometimes when you’re feeling cheekier, a receipt from the lingerie store informing him of your latest purchase. If you’re really feeling brazen, sometimes the panties themselves. His shadows are perhaps happiest to carry those items, either to get into contact with them or to see their master’s red cheeks as he shoves them out of his brothers’ view.

His shadows are your caretaker when he is not with you. When you’ve fallen asleep staying up for your mate’s return from yet another mission, his shadows will tuck you under your favorite blanket, taking off your reading glasses and ensuring your spot in the open book on your lap is not lost. Az nearly melts when he comes back to the sight, you dead asleep on the couch in front of the blazing hearth, his shadows perched dutifully there, guarding you.

However, they grow attached to you and even when he is with you, they will not leave you alone unless he commands them.

Azriel likes to take full advantage of his time alone with you. There is nothing he finds more comfort and pleasure in than being in your embrace. Sometimes that’s hard to do, though, when his shadows steal away your attention, or beat him to helping you with the zip of your dress.

It’s a very endearing sight to see him get jealous of his own shadows. He’d have a scowl on his face as he glared at them, silently ordering them to leave your side so he could have you all to himself. The shadows would melt onto the floor, gloomy in a way, whisper once more around your ankle before they go off to fulfill their master’s instruction.

Most of the time, you manage to guilt your mate into letting a few of them come back. And as soon as he calls them, they appear and shoot right for you. Az rolls his eyes but of course he understands. How could they not fall in love with you?

Azriel is actually very good with sharing. This usually applies to you when his shadows are involved, though sometimes he just needs to be alone with you. Whether it’s to have his way with you or just to snuggle up and bask in his mate’s presence. When he needs time like that, he will have his shadows guard your quarters and they will do so without question— fiercely protecting the only two beings they care for.

~spicy hc’s begin ;)~

Most of the time, Azriel will take the lead in pleasuring you— as he should, as your mate— but he’s likely to let his shadows watch or join his efforts if they play a supporting role.

For example, his favorite thing is to be between your legs, feasting on your sweet cunt and making sure you know you are his, while his shadows hold you down so you can’t move an inch. This way, you have to take the pleasure in the exact way he desires, unable to greedily chase your high or buck your hips or push him away.

Usually he plays with you for a while like this, teasing you and edging you a handful of times before he’s ruthless, unstopping even after you’ve come. He does cease his ravishing after you’ve come again, only to ensure he doesn’t overstimulate you before he’s had a chance to fuck you like you both want.

His shadows are happy to shackle you and render you helpless to his onslaught of pleasure; they love hearing your wanton cries and will dry away any tears of pleasure that escape with a cool, ghostly caress.

Speaking of their caress, one of his favorite uses for them is to soothe your skin when he’s done marking it up. Meaning, after every spank or particularly hard bite, the shadows will rove over the irritated flesh, kissing you with their cooling tendrils.

Since the shadows are slightly cold, sending them to curl around your nipples while he fucks you from behind is also another favorite. The temperature-play heightens everything— especially when they move down your curves to tease at your clit or your ass, depending on your preference…

Sometimes he lets them fuck you as part of your foreplay— usually while you’re sucking his cock. He just loves the surprise that flickers in your eyes when you’re choking on the length of him deep in your throat, how your lashes flutter when that familiar cool touch tickles your inner thighs and pushes your wet panties aside, how your moan feels vibrating around him when they thrust inside of you. He savors how your rhythm gets thrown, how you struggle to continue when his shadows are running over every sensitive crevice of your most intimate parts.

On rarer occasions, Azriel will let the shadows have their way with you. He’d sit back in a comfortable, wing-friendly armchair, darkened hazel eyes drinking in every movement before him— you with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the darkness holding your legs spread and fondling every inch of you— cupping your tender breasts, tweaking those pert, hard nipples… stroking your face, your hair, your hips and thighs… flowing over your puffy clit, slipping between your dripping folds and even wandering inside of you, perhaps just as deep as Azriel’s cock could reach. He would jerk his leaking shaft at the sight before him, lip held prisoner in his feral snarl. He wouldn’t be able to last very long, the sight before him too much for him to keep his composure.

When you’re both spent and panting for breath, the shadows will run up and down your moistened back, taking away the heat that lingers there and helping to lull you to sleep.

Only when you’re unconscious do they return to Azriel, curling around his shoulders in thanks. They know they are lucky to be the sole creature/presence with which he shares his mate, and any time spent with you is valued payment for the many services they provide their master with.

[81folklore]

helpless - GR63

pairings: george russell x hamilton!ensemble!reader (fc: ella kora)

summary: george ends his softlaunch with a cast member of hamilton on the westend

authors note: sorry for not posting in forever but ive had no motivation and i cant find the want to finish some of my drafts so have a brand new smau thats been BREWING in my brain ever since i saw hamilton the other week. its literally one my favorite musicals so you know i had to incorporate my two interests, you dont need to have seen hamilton or know about the story for this!

important: rg63 is george’s private instagram

masterlist

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and 366,450 others

water, sports and sunsets☀️

view comments

user7 shirtless george is back!!

user10 hes so…

user45 THE SOFTLAUNCH HAS TO END SOON RIGHT😭😭

user12 i miss when george wouldnt make me feel single every post😔

yourusername oh myyy🫠

yourusername

liked by jakeh_j, lilymhe and 235 others

smiles (mostly) all round this summer☀️

tagged: rg63 and jakeh_j

view comments

rg63 miss you darling🤍

yourusername miss you too love💜

jakeh_j dinner soon?

yourusername yes!! g is coming to a show soon so we can do it then :)

jakeh_j sounds good👍

user6 cant wait to see you in hamilton!

yourfriend cutie🫶

georgerussell63 and alex_albon have added to their stories

yourusername ahhh cant wait to see you all💜

f1updates

liked by user72, user1 and 2367 others

george, alex and lily with fans today in london

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user1 im the one in the third photo, they were in a rush as they had to go to the theatre but they were all so sweet and took the time to sign a hat i had!

user10 was anyone else with them?

user1 there wasnt! i dont think george was with his girlfriend but she could’ve been waiting for them somewhere else☺️

user72 idk why them going to the theatre together is funny but it is😭

user5 right?? it feels so random😭

user53 i can’t believe they watched hamilton before me

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, yourusername and 872,426 others

i have been with you since the beginning of your incredible journey of living out your dream of being in the west end. i know how much getting this part in hamilton meant to you and getting to see you on stage brings me so much joy, forever proud of you darling🤍

tagged yourusername

view comments

yourusername george☹️i will love you forever and ever thank you soso much for being by my side💜

yourusername you have no idea how happy it makes me to know you are in the crowd

alex_albon thanks for being my friend so lily can see her favorite musical😁

georgerussell63 yeah no worries man👊

yourusername alex i hope you know its me she loves to see, not hamilton🤨

alex_albon your wrong.

lilymhe shes very much correct🫶

user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING

user5 HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

user25 WAKE UP GEORGE POSTED HER AHHHH user6

user6 OMG I LITERALLY SAW HER THE OTHER DAY😭

user10 this is so cute (im sobbing)

user8 wow the highway is such a good place to stargaze!!

user83 i cannot cope why is this so🫠🫠

lewishamilton 💜💜

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 6273 others

i look into your eyes and the skys the limit. georgie my love for you is timeless, each day i think about how lucky i am to have you by my side and how lucky i am to get to be the one to love you. you have changed the way i view the world and myself and my life will always be better now youve entered it, and no matter what this chapter in our lives will stick with me forever and always💜

tagged georgerussell63

view comments

georgerussell63 i am so grateful you have come into my life

georgerussell63 i love you so much darling

yourusername i will never stop loving you🫶

lilymhe when will i get posts like this☹️

yourusername yours is next lovely🤭

alex_albon babe?? i post you all the time

lilymhe and yet you havent used a lyric from hamilton🤨

user16 oh i love them so much😭

user45 my😭love😭for😭you😭is😭timeless😭

user12 hahhaa im so happy for you😭😭

jakej_h i hate people in love

yourusername you love us really😁

user9 MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS

user7 OH MY GOD GEORGE LOOKS SO GOOD🫠

liked by yourusername and others

user101 george is so boyfriend🤭

user62 that first picture😮‍💨

user99 they are so in love😭

[envkys]

Party Favor

Prompt: It's Megumi's birthday today and all he can think about is you. (Fushiguro Megumi/reader)

Notes: I uploaded this on ao3 too, so if you see the same fic that's why LOL also happy birthday to my boy he deserves the world

It's Megumi's birthday today and all he can think about is you.

The whole gang had thrown him a birthday party tonight, and that includes you. It was his day, but he couldn't help shifting glances at you every moment he could. You were just so beautiful, he thinks, he simply couldn't take his eyes off you. The moment he saw you walk in the room, he was practically a mess.

Megumi was never a big fan of parties, but it was different when you were around. You had always made everything so much more tolerable for him, he even stayed around longer than he could imagine. Nonetheless, he still decided to take a step outside as an escape from the chaos. He was having a good time taking in the scenery - that was until he heard footsteps, your footsteps, silently walking towards him. Of course the two of you had to be alone.

It took Megumi whatever courage he had and a deep breath to start a conversation with you. And even so, he was jittery the whole time; rubbing his thumbs against each other and never looking at you straight in the eye because god knows what he might do if he looked at the you that was standing before him. 

"Fushiguro-san, you always get so fidgety whenever I talk to you," a soft giggle escapes your lips and he can feel his face get red up to the tips of his ears.

He tried to explain it the best he can, in between all the nervous stuttering that was getting in the way of reaching to you. You were so close, close enough for him to hold your hand in his if he wanted to, yet you felt further than the mountains that expanded upon the horizons. His mouth ran dry; he was out of things to say. 

You let out another (be it melodic) giggle, "Sorry, I was just teasing"

Megumi freezes, his eyes could only follow your hands reach into the pockets of the coat you're wearing. You take your time feeling around before taking out something he couldn't quite decipher until you extended your hands towards him. On your palm lays a box, it's pink and the wrapping looks incredibly handmade. Additionally, you mention how embarrassed you are for having messed up a gift wrapper that bad, but if you did it, it's goddamn Pablo Picasso. He couldn't stop himself from shaking as you placed it gently on his trembling hand, he swore he could've exploded when your fingers made contact with his for a sheer second. He thanks you for the gift, shooting a rare, genuine smile; a smile, unbeknownst to you, he could only have when he was with you. 

Soon enough, his thoughts wander back to his first meeting with you. You were outgoing towards everybody else, but you always knew to be patient when it came to him. He could never forget the first time you spoke to him, because from that day on you were the only thing he could ever seem to think about. Wow, did you make that all by yourself? You're so cool, you complimented his Shikigami. It was simple, really, you praised him once and he began to yearn for more. Even though you guys talked frequently, interactions with you were mostly short, but damn did they keep him guessing for long. 

"The view is really pretty today, don't you think?" you ask him, gazing at the cityscape. Snow slowly fell down from the sky, coating the brightly-lit buildings with thin layers of white.

Your sweet voice made him feel funny and he notices the lack of distance between you two.

"You're prettier though."

The words just spilled out like water. Pools of anxiety bundled up inside his stomach, but he didn't regret what he said. He knows he's probably being obvious, he didn't care though. You're kind and smart and interesting and you deserve to know that. He looks at you, a smirk creeps its way into your cute face. Better yet, you move an inch or two closer to him. When he leans back, you lean forward. The red in his face has reached to his neck, it's becoming unbearable. 

"You think I'm pretty?" your teasing tone catches him off guard, bringing heat to his cheeks.

Megumi monologues to himself, the prettiest in the world. He wishes he was brave enough to say it out loud and close the gap between the two of you, if only he had the courage. The birthday gods must've felt generous, because you give him exactly what he wants. You tuck a strand of his dark, messy hair behind his ear. Then, your soft hands trail its way from his hair to his right cheek. Your gentle touch makes him melt like butter. He tries to mutter something, anything, as a response, but all he could do is hope that, amongst the distance (or lack thereof), you couldn't see what he was thinking of. It's just that nobody has ever touched him with such affectionate, nobody's ever made him so dizzy. Heck, he's never even considered the possibility of falling in love -- everything changed after he met you. 

"Uhmm... Errr... I..." were the only things he could muster up to tell you.

His face moves towards yours, still leaning to your touch. Now you were really close. He wonders if you know how worked up you're getting him, how nervous you're actually making him feel. You only smile, he realizes that you know exactly what was going on. Your pupils avert away from his eyes and onto his lips. Megumi's heart skips a beat. Out of instinct, he tilts his head and goes closer. Closer and closer until the distance between you was no more.

He's never had his first kiss before, so he doesn't really know what he's doing. All he knows is that he doesn't want this to end, not yet, not when everything he's ever wanted is right here. He decided to close his eyes instead of staring creepily at you. You could never guess how long he's dreamed of this. He guides his fingers atop the hand that you placed on his cheek and caresses it slowly. Your lips are soft and perfectly fit against his, almost perfect to how he imagined them to be. You bury your palm into his hair, making his head spin and face burn like heatwaves.

You pull away and he immediately yearns for your lips once again. After a few seconds, he allowed himself to open his eyes and look at you, directly this time. Upon meeting his gaze, your eyes soften and your lips, the ones you had just recently kissed him with, folds upwards into a smile.

"Hm. That was a rather strange answer to my question."

He chuckles at your comment; it eases him, although you always had that effect on him.

"Best birthday gift ever."

[seancekitsch]

Wow, I can get sexual, too: an Adrian Chase x Reader fic- chapter 5

series masterlist here

warnings: eventual smut, masturbation, twitter nude culture, the very slightest dub con but not really just saying this to be safe, mutual pining, idiots in love, perv!reader but also perv!adrian, light exhibition, manhandling, oral sex, sweet sex, smut with feelings but its still kinda dirty

a/n: here we go!! its the final chapter!! we have finally reached the smut!!! its finally done, unless there's enough interest for an epilogue or a little drabble series with adrian and this reader character!!! thank you so much to all the people who have read this series and enjoyed it, and especially the two anons (123, and 4) who inspired the whole series!! you guys are the best!!

Adrian practically throws you up the stairs to his apartment, anytime you move slower than he wants you to he grabs you by the hip and boosts you up a few more stairs. Eager, eager, so incredibly eager for what comes next. He dodges around you on the last few steps and jams the key into the door to open it for you, allowing you to step into his dark apartment first.

“Well, here’s where the magic’s going to happen!” Adrian announces, and you step further into the living room. It looks… messy. The blanket you were using the other night is still on the couch, haphazardly flung and rumpled like. Oh right. He laid there jacking off with it under him that night. You feel yourself shudder as you hear the door click. There’s no turning back now. 

Quickly again though you’re in his arms, this time he kisses you like a snow squall, rapid and covering the skin of your face, smearing your make up with his lips. He kisses like he’s trying to memorize the details down to the pore, to leave no centimeter unexplored or felt. You kiss back as you can, managing to catch a cheek or a chin or a corner of a lip when you can but you can’t keep up, his affection a tidal wave against you. All you can do is melt into his touch, firm and strong but wildly gentle. 

You’ve never been held like this. Held like you could break, sure. Held like you’re a rag doll to throw around, also sure.

Adrian is the perfect combination of the two, so gentle and careful like you’re something to worship but his fingers dig into your scalp and your waist like squeezing the apple that tempted Eve, squeezing so hard it could bruise. You hope it does.

He leads you carefully further into the room, until your back hits the counter of his kitchen island. Adrian wastes no time pushing your jacket down your shoulders for you to shrug it off and throw it onto his kitchen floor, not even breaking the kiss through the entire action.

His greedy hands then travel to your thighs, pushing up your little skirt until it reaches the bottom of the curve of your ass.

“Wait-,” you stop him before he can pull it up any further.

He pulls back, a question clearly painting his expression.

“Not like that! Let me take my shoes off, these things are killing me,” you reassure him, and he visibly untenses in relief. He releases you from his tight hold, not completely though, finger light touches of his hands still on you as you move past him to take off your boots at his front entryway.

Alright, time to slut it up, you think, and you bend over almost completely to unzip the shoes. You know what Adrian probably sees, your skirt pulled up too high and giving him a full view of your ass and panties. Briefly, you wonder if he’s the kind of guy that likes upskirt photos. 

You'd send him one, definitely, or as many as he would ever ask for. You'd send little videos too if he wanted. Anything really, you're realizing. Damn, you think, down bad doesn't even begin to cover what I feel for him. 

Adrian can't resist from touching though, and as you step out of your boots he puts his hands on your hips again, squeezing before they slide down slightly, letting his palms feel the soft skin of your ass, before moving back up again. His motions like a question, asking for more. He repeats the motion again, and this time you wiggle your ass a little in his grasp, prompting the quietest of chuckles from him under his breath. 

You straighten back up and lean into his touch, starting to fall in love with the feeling of his hands on your hips.

“I have maybe an un-sexy question,” you broach, the thought bugging your mind since before he picked you up.

“I don’t know how that could be,” Adrian says, and presses up behind you, “Everything is sexy coming from you.”

He punctuates that by grabbing your waist and a grind of his hips against your ass, letting you feel every inch of him behind the denim that rocks against you. Fuck, how are you gonna even do this without losing your mind?

“How did,” you cut yourself off with a low moan, letting yourself lean back into his grasp, “how’d you get a hold of my set? Well, the bottom half.”

He looks at you for a moment, and then his eyes widen in recognition like he had already forgotten the conversation in the car. 

“My panties? Black satin with teal stitching?” you further supply. 

“Oh yeah, I mean, you don't lock your windows,” he replies, “You really should, unless that's like a thing for you and you want to do this again and you want me to come in through them or something.”

You try to hide how concerned that statement makes you, seeing as you didn’t realize until now that you didn't lock your windows. How long have they been unlocked? Is that like some kind of potential security breach for the task force? Your bedroom and office are full of weaponry and classified files that you really thought were more secure than they apparently are. 

“Good to know,” your tone falters a little, but you continue to lean back into him, loving how his jeans feel against your bare legs. 

“Is that weird?” he asks.

You feel like the answer should be yes, but you can't say that word. 

“Let me blow you,” you offer instead of an answer. You pull yourself from his grasp begrudgingly and turn around again, and you hear him whisper

 ‘Cool. Not weird.’

Under his breath while you reach for him again. This time you lead the kiss, pulling him in as you teasingly bite his bottom lip. Sure enough, he opens his mouth and his tongue darts out to tangle with yours, each tasting each other and trying to pull one another deeper into each other. 

You kiss feverishly, all hot and all encompassing, both trying to be as close as possible and all over each other.

“Ugh, I just wanna touch you already!” Adrian exclaims as he pulls back breathlessly, his fingers roughly raking up your satin underwear. God, his calluses feel amazing mixed with the sensation of how smooth and soft your panties are. He pants as he tries to regain his breath, his hands never leaving contact with you as your skirt just gets pushed higher and higher. 

“Just wait,” you giggle, slowly lowering yourself to your knees, “I wanna touch you first. Been thinking about what's under these jeans for a few weeks now.”

He looks a little shocked as you say this, but his hands move quickly to undo his belt and button of his jeans for you. You unzip his jeans and push them down over his ass the rest of the way, and he stops you momentarily. You wait, a little awkwardly, while he steps back and pulls his sneakers and jeans completely off, leaving only his boxer briefs as he takes his place again in front of you, nodding at you to let you continue. 

“What do you think about when you make those tweets?” you ask, your right hand coming up tentatively to test the waters and cup his length over his underwear. 

Adrian sucks in a breath, basically hissing at the contact as his eyes fall shut; so sensitive to the touch. You massage him, feeling around for what you're about to get. You've seen it more than once, but seeing it on twitter and actually seeing and feeling it in person seem like two extremely different things. You can tell just by your hand he’s long, and heavy. He's going to be a handful. And a mouthful.

“You,” he gasps out, and he sounds strained, “I think about you.”

“Like this?” you ask, and then stick out your tongue to flatten it against his clothed cock. He moans and his head falls back already, fully giving in to anything you'd do to him. How easy would he be to dominate? You briefly wonder, as your tongue works its way up his length. Your hands make their way to his hips, then to the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“Is it like this?” you ask as you pull your mouth off of him, and your hands start to pull his boxer briefs down. 

He nods, finally opening his eyes and looking down at you, his pupils blown wide and face flushed. Adrian’s gently puts his hand on the back of your head; it feels like he’s afraid to thread his fingers between your hair or push your head down on him as he lets you take your time.

You have to break eye contact to look at him, even more handsome in person than on twitter and he’s not even fully naked yet. 

“Take your shirt off,” you whisper, and he obliges you.

You take his shaft in your hand, not tightly, just barely, and you kiss him where his hips and his left thigh meet. You kiss him again, and then rest your head there for a moment. You revel in the feeling of your skin on his, the feeling of him and you connected. You breathe deeply and then kiss the patch of skin again, before moving towards the head of his cock. 

You give the head a little kiss, a little exploration of what's to come. Salty precum dots your lips, tasty and light. You kiss it again, and once more again, before you open your lips.

Gently, you ease your lips farther and farther down the head, then even more down the shaft. You let Adrian adjust to the heat and wetness of your mouth before you hollow out your cheeks, only doing so after getting yourself most of the way down his shaft. You take the time to slowly push yourself up and down his shaft, letting yourself feel every inch and letting him feel every centimeter of you. You don't stop pushing against him until he pushes at the base of your throat, and then you slowly pull back, and then in again.

His hand now finally travels to the back of your head, guiding you and holding you still as you bob up and down on his cock, letting your tongue swivel on the underside of his cock. He moans loudly, openmouthed and tries to keep eye contact as best as possible- but Adrian keeps closing his eyes, keeps squinting and screwing his eyes shut as he winces and pants under your tongue. 

“Please,” he whispers, a little lilt of a moan to his voice, as he tightens his grasp on you scalp slightly.

“Please.”

You take this as your sign to pick up the pace, working him faster and trying to take him deeper and deeper. You feel pride swell in your chest when the tip of your nose just barely brushes his pubes at one point, you’re proud you can do that on him specifically. You've never been one to specifically want to give a blowjob, but with Adrian you want to give the best blowjob in the world. Briefly you wonder if he’s ever gotten a blowjob because of his twitter but you push the thought away quickly because you don't want to think about it. Somewhere deep down you want to be the only one. 

That only invigorates you to work harder, to push yourself further down on him, to hollow out your cheeks more, to-

“Get off— shit,” he gasps, roughly pulling himself out of your mouth, “don’t wanna finish there, wanna— wanna give you…”

“Got it,” you confirm, rubbing your jaw that’s sore from use.  You can't deny that it's a little disappointing he won't let you finish him in your mouth, but you trust Adrian. 

Immediately Adrian drops to his knees himself, taking over for your hand and replacing his fingers with your own. His thumbs rub tight circles against your jaw muscles, massaging out any kinks or pains that would ail you come morning before they can even take root. This has, never ever, never been your experience. You've never sucked a guy off and then immediately been cradled and massaged so gently, never have you experienced Adrian's big beautiful eyes staring at you with the craziest amount of admiration and care that you've ever seen. The tiniest smile grows on his lips, and you try to match it despite him massaging and mashing the muscles in your cheeks. 

“Okay… I have maybe an un-sexy question myself,” Adrian says, breaking the sweet silence that hung between the two of you.

“Shoot,” you encourage him, hands coming up to meet his hands on you. 

“Okay so…. So when we watched Fargo,” he trails off. 

You already know where this is going, you already know what he’s going to say but you have to let him get there on his own. 

“When we watched Fargo and you kept staring at the mirror, were you thinking of my tweets?”

He lets the question hang in the air, and so do you, opting to move your head ever so slightly and kiss his thumb before you answer him.

“Full honesty?” you ask, lips still against his thumb. He nods. 

“I came to one of them seconds before you texted me to hang out that night,” you admit.

His expression clouds and darkens, but doesn’t harden. He still looks at you with the utmost admiration but there's something else there, something strong and lustful in his gaze. 

“Get in front of the fucking mirror,” he whispers, authority in his tone. 

You stand up immediately, stopping about three feet in front of the mirror, about as far as Adrian stops in his videos. Adrian behind you kicks off his socks and boxers and comes up behind you fully naked, the beautiful image from the tweets finally completed because this time you can see his face.

He makes eye contact with you in the mirror, smiling wide at you as his arms come around you, first as a hug, but then his hands start to play with the hem of your top.

“May I?” he asks, as if his dick wasn't just in your mouth. You nod, and he wastes no time pulling your top over your head. He freezes after he throws it on the ground, however, when he finally spots your bra. You can see in the mirror as his eyes pull themselves back and forth across your chest, taking in as much of you chest as he can in this bra, the black satin and teal stitching and your cleavage pushed just perfectly by the cups. 

“Do you like it?” you ask, feeling emboldened and not shrinking under his gaze. He nods wordlessly, still transfixed on your chest. 

“I got this set because it reminded me of you,” you admit. It matches his uniform perfectly, and it was crazy the set did so while fitting your personal style so wonderfully. It was all comfort while still sexy and matched his signature colors. 

Adrian freezes, eyes going wide at your confession, he finally looks at you instead of your chest with an unreadable expression. He turns you around in his grasp, still unspeaking and wide eyed. 

And then he kisses you again, tender and romantic and a completely different way than he was earlier tonight. When he pulls away, it’s only to start kissing the top of your chest that he can reach over the bra. Adrian licks and sucks at your chest, pulling sighs and whimpers from you as he leaves not even a centimeter of skin untouched, Adrian himself reveling in the reactions he can cause.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he mumbles against your chest, his fingers finally raking themselves over the cups of the bra, thumbs tracing over the teal stitching.

“Love that you were thinking of me,” he continues, and then bites down on your collarbone, not enough to break skin but certainly enough to make you yelp.

“Fuck, Adrian,” you whine; his teeth drag along the collarbone until he drops his head down again to press a kiss to your cleavage, and then slowly traces his tongue down your sternum. His hands travel lower and now start to push your skirt down instead of up, the stretchy material giving under his pressure and dropping to pool at your feet. His mouth returns to your neck and your jaw, kissing sloppily as both of his hands go straight to your ass and squeeze. His hard cock presses against the black satin of your underwear, and all that goes through your mind is the thought of him staining them with cum.

“See what you fuckin do to me?” he asks, as he thrusts himself against the fabric, “Feel it?” 

You nod, and sigh as you practically fall into his embrace. Your hands travel up and down his chest, which you’ve touched and even stitched up before, but you’ve always wanted to touch it like this. Your fingers play with the little smattering of chest hair he has, and dance across pert little nipples. They trace along scars and feel his muscles. He squirms when you reach his ribs, pulling back slightly to wiggle away.

“Sorry! Fuck, ticklish,” he admits, trying to regain his composure quickly.

You laugh, and then wrap your arms around him again, careful to not tickle him again. The hug doesn't last long though, and his grip on you turns rigid again. 

“Face the mirror,” he demands, and you once again turn in his grasp to face the mirror. You take in his appearance as well as your own, already looking messed up and wild despite the fact he hasn't even touched you yet, and the fact that he looks like the adonis he is in all of his twitter videos. 

His hands work their way around to the front of you, and quickly push beneath the elastic lace confines of the sides of your panties. His left hand working at the hip and his right delving under the satin that hides the apex of your thighs.

“I’m gonna make you get off in front of this mirror,” he whispers low against the shell of your ear, not in his normal voice, but in the one you recognize as Vigilante about to kill someone. You shiver. 

“Maybe next time we’ll film it,” he whispers, and dips his hand lower to finally make connection with you. You gasp as his middle finger slides so easily through your folds, you should be embarrassed how wet you are without even being touched, but the noise he makes has you swelling with pride instead. Adrian moans, loudly and uncontrolled, and drops his forehead down against your shoulder.

“Feel what you do to me?” you throw his words back at him, a challenge given how fuzzy your brain is from just this alone. He nods against you, and then continues his movements. 

He slides his fingers back and forth, getting them nice and wet and slick. You watch his knuckles in the mirror, stretching and bulging the satin fabric until they disappear, his middle finger pushing into your heat. 

You sigh deeply at the feeling of his thick finger splitting you open, one of the thick fingers you've spent time watching and studying from the scarring from being Vigilante to the calluses from being a busboy. Fuck, how you've daydreamed about these fingers specifically.

He thrusts once, twice, and then adds another finger. From the way he shifts his hand, it has to be his ring finger. He slides into you so easily, like you were made for taking him, so wet and ready. You can't help the way your mouth falls open, the way you lean back against his strong frame; you're practically putty in his hands, he can mold and manhandle you in any way he wants. Your hands reach back to run your fingers down his hips and thighs, gentle, slow strokes of your fingers.

He picks up his pace thrusting his fingers, in and out in and out, His free hand groping from your hip now to your breast, caging you in against him and holding you in place. He lifts his head up from your shoulder and starts kissing your neck again, whispering and sighing against your neck. He laughs when he’s pressed his lips against your throat at the same exact moment he pulls a loud moan from you with his motions.

“You wanna come for me, cowgirl?” he mutters, switching the angle of his hand to push himself deeper and allowing himself to rub the pad of his thumb against your clit. Your body jolts the second his thumb comes in contact with you, shaking as if you've been electrified.

“Please,” you beg, “Please, Adrian. Make me…”

You trail off, instead giving him another moan as his thumb circles your clit. He picks up the pace, sending you higher and higher pushing you close to the edge. He bites at your neck again sharply and you yelp pitifully; this time you're sure he has to have broken skin.

You start to shake, knees buckling as you know the end is coming, and now you're gasping and mumbling half words, chest heaving under his palm. Adrian speeds up again, his hand almost losing its rhythm as his trusts go harder, deeper…

And then nothing. Just nothing. Emptiness. You whine at the feeling of Adrian’s hand pulling itself from your panties, his other hand still holding you in place and keeping you standing.

You pout when you make eye contact with him in the mirror, and he smiles devilishly while he licks the fingers that were just inside you, until his resolve break and he moans on his own fingers.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but something about his tone tells you Adrian isn't sorry at all. 

You arch your brow at him questioningly.

“I just figured, I don't know,” he mumbles again, and you turn yourself in his grasp. He’s still rock hard, cock brushing against you as you move. 

“I thought I could take you to bed and do this right.”

Oh.

Oh you really like the sound of that, more than anything dirty he could say at this moment. You don't even mind the fact that he just teased and edged you like that.

But words fail you, instead you nod and kiss him sweetly on the lips, and he immediately leads you backwards to the bedroom while his arms are still wrapped around you. 

He only stops to fumble with the door handle, jiggling it before he can get it open before continuing to guide you backwards, his mouth not leaving your lips or face at all until the backs of your knees touch the edge of the bed. Adrian breaks the kiss only long enough to pick you up, lifting you in his strong arms and throwing backwards onto the bed. You gasp as you bounce against the mattress, his soft duvet cushioning your fall and puffing up around you, plush and full.

The bed dips as Adrian props a knee up onto the bed, giving him better leverage to reach for your underwear, finally pulling off the offending piece of black satin that's kept you from being bare for him this whole time. He pulls the garment down your legs so quickly, there's that Vigilante precision, and throws them up into the air behind him.

Adrian crawls the rest of the way onto the bed and between your thighs before they can even fall onto the rug behind him. He presses his body against you fully, resting most of his weight on you as he slowly rocks his hips again. His cock catches between your folds a few times, and he gasps each time. When the head of his cock bumps against your clit, you whine, pathetic and needy.

“Adrian, please fuck me,” you urge, “Need you so bad. Need to feel you.”

His head drops down close to yours, and stares into your eyes, intense and long. Then, he surprises you. Adrian tilts his head to kiss the tip of your nose, gentle and deliberate. 

“Anything for you,” he whispers, and pulls away from you to reach for his bedside. He digs around in it for a moment, and you sit up under him.

“Oh, you don't need to. I’m on the pill,” you offer, seeing as it's clear to you he’s struggling to find a condom in his messy bedside drawer. Which is comforting. If he was banging the people that replied to his tweets he'd know exactly where those condoms would be. It's good to know that it's only you. You haven't had sex in months before this, since before you joined the team really. Since that one weird date with a Scarecrow henchman back in Gotham that you keep trying to scrub from your memory. God, especially right now. This moment is… the last possible case in which you want to think about that date. Gross.

“You trust me?” he asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised as he stops pushing around charger cords and what looks like receipts and takes his glasses off to keep them safe. You nod eagerly, reaching for him to pull him back down on top of you. He readily lets you guide him, and he props himself on his elbows, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones as he kisses you again. 

“You're gonna be my downfall, like Superman and Kryptonite, or the Flash and being a fucking weirdo,” he mumbles against your lips, and you smile against him.

“You're mine too, then,” you agree, and he grinds his hips up into you again. He grinds again, before you adjust the angle, reaching down to guide his cock into you, squeezing the base as he slides in with the same ease as his fingers did, despite his size. Thimble is the funniest nickname for him, you think. You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you by the time he bottoms out in you, full and stifled by him. You feel your chest heave as you adjust to him, and he pauses to give you time. His hand comes up to your ribcage, thumb running along the underside of your chest soothingly, and you nod, giving him the okay to move.

He thrusts into you roughly, as hard and deep as he can possibly go, barely pulling out before thrusting in again. Quickly you can feel your high approaching again, Adrian stretching you out and filling you so totally and completely, the friction between your bodies feeling like the closest thing to heaven you'd believe in. You gasp out his name over and over like a prayer, arching into him to chase your high.

Adrian himself seems like he wont last long either, the way he’s sweating and groaning as he practically wraps himself around you while he fucks you, his rhythm already faltering with his enthusiasm. 

“I like you,” he groans, “So. Fucking. Much.”

Your head falls back at the confession, a high pitched moan leaving your lips. He takes that as all the encouragement he needs, his hands reaching down to grab your legs at the knees to pull them up, his thumbs pressed into the back of them as he pushes your knees as close to your shoulders as they will go, and speeds up.

“That's right,” he says, “Let me have it, let go.”

The change in position does it, and you practically scream as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, like the floodgates opening, and stars explode behind your eyelids. Everything is Adrian, Adrian, Adrian.

Adrian follows quickly after, pulling out to release on your stomach, hissing at the cool air when it comes in contact with his cock. He releases your legs, letting them fall down against the duvet, your whole body shaking as you come down from it all. He props himself up on his knees as he moves to push your hair away from your forehead and kiss your face. His hand moves between the two of you, to your stomach to try to wipe his mess off of you. You stop him from reaching for tissues with a hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Lemme taste,” you mumble, and Adrian looks at you with a face full of shock. 

“You really are going to be my downfall,” he remarks, but his hand starts to move up your body and closer to your face anyway. 

“Can you blame me? I wanted to earlier but you wouldn't let me,” you say with a pout, before taking his fingers into your mouth.

Adrian lets out a stuttered moan as you start to lick and suck, his taste salty and warm on your tongue. You take the digits into your mouth as far as you can, not unlike you did with his cock earlier. Honestly, you'd get addicted to it if he would keep making that noise. You lick his fingers clean, and he pulls them from your mouth gently. 

“You are…” he shakes his head, “You are something else.”

“In a good way?” you ask, teasing him, a wry smile starting to grow on your face.

“Yes. Of course,” he replies, completely serious. You let him help clean you up the rest of the way with tissues, and then immediately you pull him back on top of you, this time to cuddle. His head finds his way to rest on your chest and your hand finds its way into his hair to play with the curls. Normally, you'd find this part of it a little gross. You're tired, he's a little sweaty, you both kind of smell like booze; but tonight this is welcome, wanted even. 

“I like you too, by the way,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “If that isn't obvious.”

“I was hoping,” Adrian admits, reciprocating the kiss by pressing his lips to your sternum. Conversation peters out to nothing. You both lay there in silence, moonlight bathing the room in blue, both minds and hearts racing equally, but the four walls humming in quiet stillness.

What now? Does Adrian even do dating? Shit, you hadn't even thought of that, and you can't even think about how you'd navigate this if he doesn't. Maybe you could have saved face if this was just a hookup, but you said it. Your feelings were out there. But his were too, weren't they? I guess it doesn't matter if he doesn't date, you think.

Adrian’s head shoots up from its place on your chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice full of concern. You sigh deeply.

“I’m just thinking.”

You look up at the ceiling; since childhood, you'd play a game where you look at the ceiling and try to find patterns. Sometimes you would just trick your brain into seeing something that isn't there.

“Are you regretting this?” concern is laced in his voice, you don't even want to know what his face looks like right now, “Do you want me to take you home?”

You shake your head immediately.

“No, Adrian,” you sigh, “I don't.”

“Then what is it?”

Adrian lifts himself up, resting on his elbow to look at you. His hand comes up to touch your cheek awkwardly, not completely comforting, but you lean into the touch anyway. 

Fuckit, you might as well put all your cards on the table. 

“Will this go anywhere?”

“You mean like… this?” he asks, and you finally look at him as he’s pointing between the two of you. You nod, feeling like you want to hide. 

“Cowgirl, look at me,” he commands, the hand on your cheek guiding your face towards his.

“Let's make a verbal agreement right now to only kiss each other, and I’ll be the best boyfriend ever, and we’ll have hot hot sex every night and watch Fargo together every week from now on.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I’d like that.”

Adrian smiles widely, and lets himself fall back on top of you, hugging you tightly. 

“Fuck yeah,” Adrian half-shouts, muffled by the pillow near your head. He squeezes you tightly, and then lifts himself back up. 

“Gimme ten minutes and I’m gonna rock your world again, babe,” he says, all giddy smiles. 

An idea pops into your head, and you take his face in your hands.

“Why don't we make it a video?"

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

🧡 The Past and Pending 🐎

jo & young claire fic - 4.7k - rating: G - canon compliant - read on ao3

Jo watches the family hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen. Jo supposes she once looked like that, too.

16th May, 2004. Nine years to the day since Jo's father's death, she is nineteen and working her usual shift in the Roadhouse bar. The Novak family stop by during a summer storm as they travel through the state, and Jo has the chance to bond with a seven year old Claire over horses, their love for their fathers, and leather jackets.

written for my 2024 jo's joyous birthday celebrations!! prompts were orange, horse girl, and leather jacket, which were fun to weave in. enjoy <3

read below the cut!

16th May 2004.

It’s been a slow day at the Roadhouse, the tepid May heat turning beers warm but the bouts of summer rain keeping Jo from her usual restless walks outside. The bar is gloomy and a little stifling and it’s nine years to the day since the death of her father. 

By the evening Jo is working the bar, in view of the entrance. Every time the door scrapes open and the creaky floorboard goes, she is hit with one of two alternating images. The first is her father, home from his hunt, leather jacket fitted on his solid body with a smile on his face. His arms are spread wide waiting for her hug. Each time it is not him, she is forced to remember how his leather jacket is hanging emptily from a hook behind the bar and that every time she pictures his face she gets it a little more wrong.

The second image is of Uncle Bobby, hunched and sad, his grief silhouetted in the doorway light as he brings the sorry news. Her dad’s leather jacket in his hands, all that was left of him. What news does he bring this time? How many dead? The first image fills her with sorrow, the second with fear, both memories rising to the surface on the anniversary like crumbs in beer.

Jo mindlessly wipes down the bar, any tears that land on the countertop instantly disappearing beneath the cloth. It’s just one of those days. Ellen is in the back, unpacking the delivery that came in the morning, also quieter than usual. At least they’re not screaming at each other. That’s something. 

The front door scrapes the floor as it swings open and Jo is called back to the present. She brushes her eyes once with the back of her hand, the one holding the rag, as if she’s only wiping sweat from her forehead. When she turns to face the new customers Jo knows no one will be able to tell she was crying. She’s good at things like that. 

“Heya, what can I get for you?” she calls over the bar, and then instantly sighs as she sees the newcomers. Neither of the images in her head have materialized, but a third, more frustrating one has: civilians. 

A man and a woman, married, but still fairly young, hover uncertainly in the doorway. The wife’s hair is that uninteresting midway between blonde and brunette, cut sensibly to her shoulders but clearly styled. The husband’s hair is much darker and would probably curl if not for his serious and slick side parting. The first thing Jo notices about them is their hair because this is the most immediately interesting thing about them; other than that, they look incredibly boring. Normal. 

Then, from behind the man’s legs, peers a young girl. A child with a sweet tangerine gingham dress and curious eyes, maybe seven or so. Jo watches the girl take in the Roadhouse, with its burly, surly hunters hunched uninvitingly over tables marked with the questionable stains from fights and alcohol which make every surface slightly sticky. 

The husband is shaking his head, gesturing round at the bar with a displeased hand. “We should go,” Jo catches him saying, “this isn’t our kind of establishment.”

Jo is too used to this happening to be offended. Besides, she always thinks why cater to civilians anyway, when they’re a hunter bar first and foremost?

But the wife stands her ground. “She needs to eat, Jimmy. We all need a break, we’ve been driving for so long. And the sooner we get home, the sooner we outrun that storm.” 

Jimmy sighs, then nods. The trio shuffle awkwardly towards the bar, the child nervous at her father’s heels. She’s very blonde, as blonde as Jo. 

“I know we look like it, but we don’t bite,” Jo says, mainly to the girl. She earns the trace of a smile for her troubles.

Jimmy has the decency to look a little regretful. “I’m sorry, it’s been a… long drive. We haven’t had to travel quite this far before.”

“Well, that’s what the Roadhouse is here for. What can I get you?”

The options are limited, so it doesn’t take long for the family to decide on burgers, fries, and juices all round. Jo manages to keep her face straight at the drinks order. Most of the Roadhouse clientele would drink the rainwater outside rather than order fruit juice. If it wasn’t obvious enough already, the glimmer of evening light making its way through the window catches on the cross pendant visible through the open top button of Jimmy’s collar, and confirms the family’s faith. 

They go and find a table, choosing one by the window, to sit and drink their juices at. Jo sets about sorting the rest of their order, pottering about between the kitchen and the bar to serve it all up. 

She’s halfway through plating the fries when movement catches the corner of her eye and she spins to see the young girl clambering up one of the high stools at the bar, the seat teetering a little under her weight.

“Hey,” Jo says, maybe a little meanly. Mostly caught by surprise. “What are you doing?”

The girl’s face falls into a round, guilty oh as she finally settles, kneeling, on the seat. “I just wanted to see what was behind.”

Jo nods, calming now that her initial panic at the girl’s movement has subsided. “That’s fine, just make sure you’re careful up there, alright? It’s a tall seat and you’re a—a small little body.”

“One day I’m going to be bigger and every seat in my house is going to be a tall seat,” the girl decides with a jut of her chin. 

The comment hits Jo at such an angle it cracks her, and she barks out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“Claire,” she answers. Then, with the precision of a child who has had politeness strongly instilled in her, asks, “and what’s yours?”

“Jo.”

“I thought that was a boy’s name.”

“It is,” Jo says. She gets a familiar burst of pride with it, but it feels awkwardly shallow with Claire looking up at her, so she follows with, “but it’s a girl’s name too. My full name is Joanna-Beth.”

Claire breathes a little woah . “That’s such a pretty name.”

“Huh. Um, thanks,” Jo manages. She’s never liked it, the way her mom only uses it in anger, the way her dad never used it. Joanna-Beth is someone else. Joanna-Beth is a bad daughter. Claire, though, doesn’t know any of that. 

As Jo’s cheeks tinge pink, Claire’s mom comes hastening over, ready to lift Claire down from the bar stool and back to the table. 

“Is she distracting you? I’m so sorry. Claire, love, come on—”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Jo placates earnestly. “I really don’t mind it. I was enjoying our chat.”

Claire beams at her. “So was I, mommy.”

Claire’s mom looks between the two of them—Jo wonders what goes on in her head as she does, two such naive-looking girls set against the backdrop of the Roadhouse—and then nods. “Well, you just give me or Jimmy a shout if you need a hand.”

“Thanks. I’m not great with kids, so I might need to,” Jo answers with a smile. It’s the truth; she’s never had much practice.

The woman raises a doubtful eyebrow. “Well, you seem to be doing a good job so far.”

Jo nods, unsure what to do with the praise. 

“I’m Amelia, if you need me,” supplies Amelia instead.

“I’m Jo.”

“It’s short for Joanna-Beth,” Claire pipes up, the awe still palpable in her voice. 

Amelia laughs, nodding, and runs a hand through Claire’s sleek pigtails. “Pretty name,” she tells Jo, before heading back to her husband at the table. 

It’s the complement of the hour, it seems. Jo nods again, head bobbing unassuredly like one of the lame figures in Ash’s room, as she gets back to plating up the meals under Claire’s careful surveillance. 

“You’ve got horses on your butt,” Claire says after ten full seconds of silence. 

“What? Oh,” Jo laughs, turning in vain to glance at the horses embroidered over the back pockets of her jeans. She found them in the thrift store in town. They weren’t cheap, the horses stitched in mid-gallop over the pockets boosting the price considerably. But it’d felt wrong to leave the horses trapped in the sterile light of the thrift store. They deserve some warm lighting, Jo’d thought, where they can complete their run for freedom when no one is looking. The jeans are just a tad too small, so the plushy middle of her stomach bulges over them slightly, but she tries not to mind it. Anything for the horses.

“Do you like them?” she asks, wiggling her butt a little, much to Claire’s delight. 

Jo normally keeps her movements minimal, behind the bar, knowing how hunters’ eyes glue grossly to all the places she’d least like them look. She often feels like somewhat of a dancing monkey because of it, but here it’s an innocent movement with no repercussions other than Claire’s laughter.

“They’re so fun. I wish my dress had horses on like yours,” Claire says with a plaintive sigh which sounds amusingly beyond her years. 

“You like horses?” 

Claire nods eagerly. “For my next birthday mommy says I can have a riding lesson.”

“Woah! That’s so cool!” Jo says, and she’s genuinely quite excited at the idea. “I’m jealous, I wish I could ride. Then I could saddle up and go wherever I wanted all by myself.” California, she’d decided sometime long ago. Or maybe Arizona. Just somewhere west of this wasteland.

“I’ll come back and teach you once I know,” Claire answers, so earnestly Jo knows she fully believes it. 

Somehow, she can see it: Claire with her little arms crossed staring up at Jo perched precariously on a horse, calling instructions up to her. “I’d like that,” she says with a grin. “Where will you ride to, once you can ride absolutely anywhere?”

Claire considers the question deeply, the cogs whirring away visibly behind her eyes. “Well, I’d have to teach daddy and mommy how to ride too. I don’t want to go anywhere without them. But then I don’t mind.”

Jo hums. It’s a cute image, the three of them as one family riding off into the sunset. Not lost, because they’re together. It feels distant, familiar in the way the memories of a dream are; foreign. Whenever she has those fantasies of riding away now, she’s alone. She supposes that wasn’t always the case.  

“That sounds real lovely,” she finally gets out, staring down at the burger she has started stacking. She hadn’t really realized she was doing it, just running on automatic. Thinking of her father and running on automatic, the story of her life since she lost what Claire still has. 

But Claire’s concentration has dwindled and she wriggles in her seat. “Are you going to be done soon? I’m starving .” 

“Hey, you’re the one distracting me!” Jo rebuts, shaking her head clear with an exaggerated sigh for Claire’s benefit. “But tell you what, I have an idea to help you grow bigger so you can always sit on the tall seats.”

“What?” Claire asks, perking back up with excitement. 

Jo hunkers down to Claire’s level on the bar, resting her chin on her arms so they’re completely eye to eye. “If you help me carry the food to your table it’ll be like lifting weights and then you’ll get big and strong,” she says, voice low like she’s letting Claire in on a secret.

“You mean it’s ready?”

Jo pulls away with a roll of her eyes and fishes the basket of burger and fries from the countertop to present them on the bar. Impatiently, Claire reaches out to grab one, but Jo bats gently her hands away. 

“Hey, kiddo, gotta get down from the seat first.”

“I can do it myself!” Claire protests. 

But still, she doesn’t struggle as Jo comes around from behind the bar and helps lift her to the floor, Claire steadying herself against Jo’s arms. Once her feet have touched the floor, she prods at Jo’s toned tricep again with a podgy finger. 

“Your arm isn’t soft,” she points out, rather frankly. 

Jo gives her arm a squeeze in the same place Claire just did, to feel for herself. She always thinks she is too soft, too willowy; china doll in a bull farm. So although she trains as much as she can, shooting with her bow and arrow in the yard and sparring with the other hunters when they pass through, it never feels like enough. At least Claire thinks differently. 

“It’s because it’s all muscles,” she explains. She give the smooth, plushy skin of Claire’s arm a gentle poke in return. “See, you just haven’t got any yet.”

Claire frowns as she squints down at the difference between them. “I didn’t think girls could have muscles.”

Sometimes Jo looks at herself in the mirror and wishes she’d never trained at all. That she looked like all the other girls her age. Even like Claire. Here she is, jealous of a seven year old, yet knowing that this world of comparison is what Claire will inevitably grow into. Distantly and regrettably, she reminds herself of her mother.

“All girls can have muscle if they want to, and train enough,” she says, trying to keep her words on an even keel. It feels important. But she attempts to imagine little Claire in her gingham dress with muscly arms and fails. 

Claire giggles, gorgeously oblivious as she jabs at Jo’s arm again. “None of the girls at school or Sunday school are like you, Jo.”

Her throat gets a little dry. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Just a thing,” Claire notes absently, before taking the basket of greasy food from Jo’s distracted hand and sauntering over to her family with it clutched tightly in her fists. She hands it straight to her dad, who runs an affectionate hand over his daughter’s head.

“Thank you, sweetheart, this looks very lovely,” he says patiently, as she scrambles over him and onto her own seat. “Have you been kind to the nice lady?”

Jo doesn’t like that word but doesn’t have time to deal with that, recovering as she is from Claire’s rapid-fire insights. She follows the kid to the table and slides Amelia and Claire their portions, receiving grateful smiles from both Amelia and Jimmy. 

“Thank you,” the family chorus, their voices naturally falling in a pleasant harmony. 

Jo’s voice is lonely in comparison as she asks if she can get them more drinks. They turn down the offer and thank her again, Claire’s eyes glued to her food now that it’s properly in front of her. Slowly, Jo returns to her spot behind the bar, unabashedly gazing at the family from across the room.

She watches them hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry, when Claire has confessed dramatically to starvation, they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Jo doesn’t think any food prepared by her hands is really worth it, but the prayer comes out in a low and sincere murmur from Jimmy’s mouth. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen . Jo supposes she once looked like that, too. 

**

The next half hour passes with little incident, aside from a repeat round of whiskey for Shawn, Jake and Caleb in the far corner. Jo mainly watches Claire and her family eat their blessed dinner and chat, the flow easy between them. They don’t talk like most people in the Roadhouse do. They sound posher, somehow, their sentences free from apostrophes and curses. Jimmy eats his burger with a knife and fork. 

Another shower of summer rain falls, the noise heavy on the Roadhouse roof. Jo expects it to pass, but instead the weather settles like that, a consistent rumble over the bar. The storm she heard Amelia mention earlier must have caught up with them, despite their desire to outrun it. 

Jimmy and Amela must notice this too. They peer out of the window by their table into the ever-murkier evening, resignation growing on their faces.

“We need to make a move,” Jimmy says. “Get ahead of this before we get stuck.”

As if to emphasize the point, a crack of thunder echoes out around the Roadhouse. The sound travels potently over the flat Nebraska plains and the din of the first clap gives even the hunters in the corner a start. Claire lets out a small yelp and buries herself into her father’s side. 

“It’s just thunder, sweetie,” Jimmy pacifies.

Claire mumbles something into his middle in return, but Jo can’t make it out. 

“You guys finishing up?” she asks, walking over and clearing the baskets. “I’d head out before it gets worse.”

“Yes, we’d like to,” Amelia agrees, “but someone here is a little bit scared of the thunder.”

“I’m not scared,” Claire grouches, lifting a protesting head from her dad’s chest. Jo knows a liar when she sees one, knows it as she knows herself. “I just don’t want to get wet.”

Jo choses bravado and Claire choses nonchalance, but it looks like they both bury their fear. She remembers the performances she used to put on for her father to show she was capable enough to keep up with him, how loved it made her feel when he believed in her. An idea, easily shattered, starts growing in her mind, and she surges forward with it before it can break. 

“So we gotta get you out to the car without getting wet, hmm?” Jo poses quizzically. Claire looks at her suspiciously, but nods along. “I have an idea,” Jo draws out, hands on hips. “We’ll have to go behind the bar to make it work…”

Claire leaps up from her seat, curiosity winning out over anything else. Jo hasn’t even got to ask Amelia and Jimmy’s permission, their looks of gratitude are already enough. They start gathering their jackets as Jo leads Claire around, to the tantalizing world behind the bar.

“Cool,” Claire whispers. It’s the closest thing to slang she’s said all day.

Jo smiles despite herself, then readies to go through with her idea. She’s sharing the one thing of her father’s which is truly hers. If it were anyone but Claire, she wouldn’t be doing it, but something about Claire makes it feel different—makes sharing feel more like a gift which grows rather than diminishes. 

“This,” Jo says, gently lifting the supple material from where it hangs dutifully on its hook, “is my daddy’s leather jacket.”

She takes a deep breath and kneels beside Claire, offering the leather up to her for her little hands to touch. Despite the warmth of the day, the leather is still cool, and Claire’s smile grows as she slides her chestnut-sized palms along the smooth material. 

The leather is brown and worn, but still in pretty pristine condition for a jacket now going on thirty years old. Jo doubts Claire even notices the small set of hand stitches around the collar from when she stupidly tore it and needed to fix it up. It had taken her a whole afternoon tucked away in her bedroom to stitch it back together, but she’d played her dad’s vinyls the whole while and the time had spun away quickly. Even her mom was impressed by Jo’s handiwork, in the end. This jacket is the one thing of her dad that Ellen lets Jo keep, and Jo keeps it well. 

Claire’s blue eyes are wide and wondrous in her head. “It’s very nice,” she says shyly.

Jo smiles. “I know. And it’s really special to me, because my daddy isn’t around any more, so we’re going to take good care of it together.”

“Why isn’t your daddy around?” Claire asks, her forehead wrinkling with the question. She’s a kid clearly trained in courtesy, but the constant frankness to her questions give her a harder edge. If the questions didn’t sting so much, Jo would love it about her. Claire continues, “my daddy loves me so much I think he’ll be around forever.”

“Well,” Jo says carefully, slowly, stringing her words along the tightrope of her taut throat. “Sometimes it’s not a choice. My daddy died nine years ago.” She swallows the ‘today’ she could add onto the end of that sentence, feeling that detail might be a little too much for both of them in this conversation. “Here’s something I find very important to remember: just because someone leaves, doesn’t mean they stop loving you. And it doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”

Claire looks as if she might start chuckling, but then catches onto the sincerity in Jo’s tone. Her mouth falls open slightly and her plump fingers squeeze tighter at the leather jacket. “I don’t want my daddy to leave me.”

“I bet he won’t,” Jo says, placing her hands over Claire’s. They’re so small beneath her own. Warm too, like holding a little heart between her hands. 

Jo looks up at Claire, at her sandy blonde hair tied neatly into pigtails and the pretty orange gingham of her summer dress. Seven years old and so sure her daddy will never leave her. It is only the crystal blue of Claire’s irises that differ from the umber of her own, but even then, Jo supposes that they both have their father’s eyes. 

“I think we’ve got the best daddys in the world,” Jo whispers. “They love us all the time. When they’re out at the shops, when they’re away with work, when they’re up in heaven. They love us right now.” 

She swallows, hard, blinking away the tears that are refracting rainbows in her eyes. There’s a burning in her throat but she’s glad she managed to say those words, to finally get them out into the precious ears of a young girl. She smiles. Her vision is still slightly watery but clearing when she realizes Claire is giggling, a sweet blush on her cheeks. Her laughter is light and bubbly, like a stream tumbling over rocks in the sun. Like if Jo bathed in it, she would feel clean.

“Come on, we can use my daddy’s leather jacket as an umbrella to run out to the car,” she says, the idea finally coming to fruition as she stands back up again and dusts the Roadhouse floor muck from her knees. “I’ll hold it over your head so you don’t get wet.”

Claire rolls her eyes, something Jo wasn’t sure seven year olds knew enough to do, but apparently so. “But then you’re going to get wet!”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m big and strong! I can take some rain.” Jo makes a performance of flexing her arms, the odd proportions of her wide-muscled shoulders and lean frame suddenly a cause for celebration rather than insecurity when looked at through Claire’s eyes. 

“Hmm.” Claire ponders hard at Jo’s words, those cogs visibly turning again in her brain. “Okay. But you’ll have to be fast to keep up with me!” 

The kid makes a dash for the door and is surprisingly speedy on her little legs, her gingham dress swishing behind her. Jo starts after her, pitching both arms upwards so the jacket hangs from them like a tent over Claire’s head. They dash out the front door and into the delicious rain, giggling all the way until it turns into full belly laughter. The lights of the car flash when Jimmy unlocks it, and Claire kicks up water as she runs to fling open the backseat door. Jo’s jeans are splattered with it, but the rain is coming down in sheets so her whole body is soon soaked through anyway. 

Another roar of thunder booms across the open space but Claire doesn’t even notice, too busy sheltering under Jo’s jacket as she scrambles up into the car. Jo slides the leather jacket on to free up her hands and help Claire wriggle into the backseat. The girl is a step ahead of her, and clicks her seatbelt into place with a smug little grin at Jo.

“See, I am faster than you!” 

Jo laughs, feeling rainwater pool in the corners of her mouth as she does so. “Okay, you win. But I did help keep you safe from all the horrible rain and thunder.”

“Yes, you did,” Claire concedes graciously. She clearly has a self-righteous streak. Smiling, she opens her arms wide for Jo to hug her, but Jo backs away.

“I’m very wet still, I don’t want to make you damp after all this.”

“Oh, okay,” Claire says, looking crestfallen. “But I want to hug you anyway.”

Jo pauses. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Claire says, the words come on, silly, evident in her tone. 

Jo grins, and wraps her drenched, leathery arms around Claire. Squeezes her tight. With her face buried in Claire’s hair, she inhales the strong and familiar scent of strawberry shampoo, the kind she used to use when she was small. She’s got a young girl’s warm body in her arms, and the scent of her dad’s leather and her childhood shampoo mix in the May evening air. 

“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Claire’s voice whispers in her ear. 

Jo wants to sob, but doesn’t. She instead gives Claire one last, big, humongous squeeze and untangles herself, her arms leaving damp patches across Claire’s dress. Claire doesn’t seem to mind, she’s only seven. 

“I was just like you when I was small,” Jo manages to reply. She doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing anymore, or if it’s just—as Claire said—a thing. Some small part of her feels like she’s damning Claire as she says this, to a life like her’s. But then again—maybe it’s just a thing, and her life is neutral. There does not have to be a curse to pass on. She smiles. “It’s been really nice to meet you, Claire.”

“And it was nice to meet you too, Jo!”

They do a final high-five (Claire’s hands only spanning Jo’s palm) before Jo steps back into the rain proper, closing the car door in front of her with a wet thunk. 

The driver’s door opens and shuts beside her, Jimmy having climbed behind the wheel. Amelia’s footsteps splash around to the far side of the concrete and then the whole family is sheltered in the car, safely stowed together behind the windows.

In the low lighting of the Roadhouse sign, for a moment Jo looks into Claire’s window and only sees herself, rain pouring down her face and shoulders wide enough to fill her father’s jacket. Then the driver’s window rolls down and Jo steps to meet it. 

“Thank you,” Jimmy says. He has dark hair and a face she will meet again. “You were very good with her. Your parents should be proud.”

Jo goes to shake her head but then allows herself the nod, to tentatively agree. Her wet hair is plastered to her scalp, but the rain isn’t cold; it’s just right. 

“Have a safe journey,” she calls. Then repeats herself as the man revs the engine so Claire, winding the window down too, can still hear her. “Have a safe journey!” 

To where, Jo realizes she isn’t quite sure. 

Both her and Claire wave like wild things as the car turns back out onto the road, Jo chasing the car for a few meters, to Claire’s growing grin. As the car pulls away Claire’s blonde pigtails are the last thing Jo can make out of her.

She stands there, in the parking lot outside the Roadhouse where the dust is being beaten into the road by the summer rain. The taillights of the car rumble out of view and Jo still stands, waving, unsure if she’s just met the past or future, until her mother comes and beckons her inside. 

[ciderjacks]

I watch some of Watcher's stuff, tell me whatever you want about Shane Madej!

HOUGHHHH. OHHRHFHTHABK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOY

i think a lot of people who are aware of Shane sort of just think of him as the skeptic guy on bfu/ghost files (not saying that’s u obv just a lot of ppl bc I guess I need this to be a pitch meeting) and I think that is a shame because HOLY SHIT HES SO TALENTED AND COOL AND WEIRD AND THE SHIT HE MAKES IS SO FUCKIKNG INSANELY GOOD

Ok so going back in time for a second to b*zzfeed. Who btw did not deserve this guy. Afaik he had two major like, creative projects on there. Ruining History and The Hot Daga. Both were very good. ruining history was a fun history show he did with Sara and Ryan and there are rotating guests every episode. Shane is very interested in history, very good at teaching history, and i think in an alternate universe hes a beloved high school history teacher. Ruining History is the father of puppet history. B*zzfeed canned it and i miss it every day. and then there’s the other father of Puppet History, Hot Daga. Hot Daga is insane. I love Hot Daga, its not for everyone, but I think its so good. The lore goes crazy, he produced and made original songs for it, he animated the whole final half season by himself which is fuckinf insane. He made a ballad for it and actually i need everyone reading this to Listen to “believe me maizey” and then directly after listen to the Meteor Ballad from Puppet History. OH LOOK A SEGWAY

Puppet history is so fuckinf good. Its So Good. And especially in later seasons since hes doing so much you really start to see his improvement as an artist and its just. Its incredible. Some of the somgs are genuinely fucking masterpieces, like some of my favs are The Flower Boat Song, Asmodeus, The Horse and God song, the Emu song, Big Pile Of Diamonds, Infinitiger, The Window Song, Gay Oars Duet, Hologram Professor Song, and the Meteor’s Ballad. And more. Uhh OH the Olympic Torch is really good too. His lyrics are so smart and fun and his vocals are so impressive and he has such good range, he duetted Himself for the Oar song and managed to make the two voices identifiable as separate characters without being over the top. The lyrics range from poetic anf beautiful to weird and funny often within the Same song! Its just so good and he starts so good and gradually over the years he’s done the show you can see him getting more comfortable and better at music which is crazy causw again HE STARTED OFF GOOD! HE WAS INSANE IN HOT DAGA AND HE IS SOMEHOW EVEN BETTER IN PUPPET HISTORY LIKE! and and and ok here’s where I get crazy and a little parasocial (lol not really i am misusing that word for the bit LOL)

Something about all his work is that you can kind of see how his art depicts the world. In Hot Daga you get the line “what else can you do in the face of such monumental loss, but breath a weary sigh as the world is a little quieter now.” And in Puppet history you get uh actually you get like 20 things from the meteor song but one of my favorite parts is (read blue as the professor, orange as the meteor, pink as both) “some shit’s just etched into the stars, calamities you cant outrun/and when sweet earth we finally meet/the sky will burn and boil the sea/as mountains rend/its you and me.” i think both these lyrics and these somgs demonstrate a maturity about the world that you dont really see in a lot of people, his general kindness towards anything and everything and his ability to change perspectives on things without being forceful. (On a personal note I listened to The Meteor song after someone I knew passed, and as dumb as it maybe sounds the idea that like,, death is not cruel, you can’t always run and sometimes the best thing you can do is be there with the people you love as the world ends.) and also I think that you really can tell that he views the people he’s telling you about as People and not just like, figures. Ykwim. He shows such genuine respect and care for everyone in these stories and I’ve already like briefly in these stories but like, you KNOW if a guy can make me cry for the Meteor that killed the dinosaurs then he’s something special. i also think the way he portrays death in his work is very comforting as a whole. and another thing speakinf of rhat is that he has so much respect for other cultures in a level I think that goes beyond just bare minimum not being a piece of shit. Like especially when he’s teaching history, an example that always sticks out to me is how much effort he put into making sure people remembered and thought about Hatshepsut by having a whole episode on her history then also making an EXTREMELY (probably intentionally so though i cant be sure bc I can’t reas minds) catchy song that Told you to think of Hatshepsut and explained Why uou should think of Hatshepsut and it’s been stuck in my head ever since I first heard it years ago. Also I’m consistently impressed by his good pronunciation of things, I remember in the Tunguska event episode of mystery files there were so many ppl from tbe area he was talking about shocked by how good his pronunciation was. And ive seen that so many times w him like, idk i just think thats very cool. He’s a genuinely really mature and respectful guy I think. Wise too. So much of his work has educated me, changed my worldview for the better, inspired me. Like He’s so talented ik i keep saying that but HE IS!

Like ok so. He can write both songs and stories beautifully. he’s wise as fuck and could probably be a philosopher. He can make puppets (and just tbc later season puppet history the puppets are not him, but in the early seasons afaik they were all him, so he is definitely skilled at that.), he can sing, he can voice act, his graphics and editing are off the charts, he’s educated and smart, hes funny. He’s so fuckinf cool.

also again getting parasocial here but I just really like how much of a zest for life the guy seems to have. And Honestly im impressed that he worked in retail, had actual trash thrown in his face by an angry customer (true story) and still came out it like “man the world sure is wonderful!”. What a guy. And He’s so fucking weird and interesting and I could seriously just listen to him rant about Literally anything Forever. Anything. It doesnt matter I think he could talk about anything in a way that would make me invested in it and i’d come out of it more educated than before with a fresh new perspective on life.

This is getting Essay-like so here are some other Random Shane Things I know to close me out I guess

-he loves community was in the community fandom and has a crush on troy barnes

-he wants to be a mouse

-he’s lived 7000 years

-

-was DB cooper

-makes a fine ass Krampus

-actually the coolest guy alive

sorry this is almost 100% incomprehensible thank you for letting my autism loose tho

[enlitment]

Top 5 lines written by Catullus!

Thank you for the ask (and for indulging me!). I may stretch the definition of what can realistically be considered 'a line' a bit, but it's for the sake of context, I promise!

C 31: Sirmio

O what freedom from care is more joyful/ than when the mind lays down its burden/and weary, back home from foreign toil/ we rest in the bed we longed for?

This one is just incredibly relatable for anyone coming back home from any long trip! It is just as true now as it was more than 2000 years ago.

2: C 99: Stolen Kisses: to Iuventius

you have handed wretched me over to spiteful Love/nor have you ceased to torture me in every way/so that for me that kiss is now changed from ambrosia/to be harsher than harsh hellebore

I've included this line mostly because I love the contrast between ambrosia and hellebore. I also think that there is something powerful and effective about taste metaphors, yet I don't see them used very often. Here, it manages to beautifully illustrate poor Catullus' feelings in this particular situation! (Though obviously, you shouldn't go on kissing people out of the blue. That's kind of on him.)

Poor Catullus, getting rejected by both women and men, left and right

3. Attis

So, rapidly, from sweet dream and free of madness/ Attis recollected his actions in his thoughts/ and saw with a clear heart what and where he had been/ turning again with passionate mind to the sea.

Nothing like the pain of the morning after, am I right?

In all seriousness, all of Attis is amazing. The language (even the translations, I sadly cannot appreciate the original), the imagery, the links to mythology, it's all so beautiful. It's also such a rich area for analysis - I've thought about it a lot, but I'm sure if barely scracthed the surface at this point.

I personally see it as an expression of the fear of emasculation that comes with being deeply obsessed with a female lover (as he was with Lesbia)? I cannot claim any expertise beside having read all of his work and knowing some of the context of his life + the Roman views on masculinity. I've also read a few opinions of people arguing for a possible trans reading, which is incredibly interesting as well.

4. C 9: Back from Spain: To Veranius

You’re back. O happy news for me!/ I’ll see you safe and sound and listen/ to your tales of Spanish places that you’ve done/ and tribes, as is your custom, and/ hang about your neck, and kiss/ your lovely mouth and eyes

I don't know, just something about him expressing such genuine joy about being reunited with his friend seems incredibly sweet. (Also introduces the idea of kissing someone on the eyes which. Um. Seems to be an ongoing thing for Catullus. Sure, you do you.)

5. C 64: Epithalamium for Peleus and Thetis

The Minoan girl goes on gazing at the distance/ with mournful eyes, like the statue of a Bacchante/ gazes, alas, and swells with great waves of sorrow

Again, I just love the whole poem. It is probably my favourite Catullus poem (along with C 50, but they have very different vibes). I find it fascinating that a male poet can empathise so much with the female perspective (which is a bit of an ongoing theme in his poetry). I cannot help but think that he must have personally related to Ariadne's pain, being rejected by his former lover - Lesbia - like she was by Theseus. It would certainly help to explain how he was able to portray her state of mind with such incredible depth and complexity.

I also adore the beauty of the language and the many references to Greek mythology of course.

[minisugakoobies]

WIP Tag Game

rules: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips

Thank you for the tags @theharrowing & @star-my! 💕

Tagging: @kiestrokes @chans-room @bangtanintotheroom @augustbutwinter @thatlongspringnight @sowoozoo-7 @vyduan apologies if you've already been tagged, no pressure to play! 💜

I've been in a writing slump lately - I have a million WIPs in progress but am unable to find the motivation or concentration to finish any. So if any of these sound interesting, please let me know - your excitement is what keeps me going! 💕💕💕

There’s some smut in some of these snippets, so I’ll put those under a cut.

3 WIPs:

The Rules:

“And after that, we were banned from ever visiting Ikea again,” Chan finishes, a crooked grin crossing his face as he waits for your reaction. “That is… the greatest story I’ve ever heard,” you inform him. “Thank you, just, so much, for that.”  Chan nods, leaning back against the vinyl of the booth seat. “Now, you’re not gonna run off and snitch to Changbin, are you? Tell him I’ve divulged all his dirty secrets?”  You press your hand to your chest, looking scandalized. “Absolutely not! I would never. Everything you’ve told me stays with me.” You pause. “Until I need it.”  “Fair.” His grin returns, cheekier than ever. “If you’re gonna use it for blackmail, I will be expecting a cut. Just to warn ya.”  A server stops by your table to grab your empty glasses and drop off the check. It feels like the perfect opportunity to bring the night to a close - thank Chan for the drinks, since he didn’t even attempt to argue with you about paying, simply dropped his card on the tray, thank him for the gossip, and bid him a good evening.  But no. You’re you, and so instead of saying “Thank you” or “Good night,” you say, “I think we could come to an arrangement.”  Chan tilts his head, eyes roaming from your smiling lips down to your goose-dimpled thighs and back, and you realize you may have miscalculated a bit. Because the sweet expression on his face has vanished, replaced by a look of hunger so ravenous, your pulse quickens - the primal reaction of prey realizing it’s exactly where a hunter wants it.  “Could we now?” He shifts slightly, the arm around your shoulders falling between you as he signs the receipt. He taps the pen on the table. “I like the sound of that.”  You do too, which is why there are klaxons suddenly blaring in your head. You should really leave. Instead of sliding further into the corner of the booth as Chan casually leans forward, blocking your view of the rest of the bar.  That’s when the hand that was at Chan’s side creeps its way onto your exposed thigh.

Untitled Vamp!Jimin sequel (to Claim):

Jimin lets out a loud laugh. “Damn, you are beyond drunk. Come on, let’s get you ready for bed, you lush.”  Fine, maybe you are drunk. Tonight had been a bit of a special occasion. Tonight, your boyfriend finally introduced you to the rest of his coven. To the vamps who had basically raised him from a feral fledgling to be the incredible undead man he is today. Since you are wildly, hopelessly, head over heels in love with Jimin, you’d been nervous as hell to meet all of his friends. You wanted them to approve of you and Jimin’s relationship. To approve of you. Which meant you’d gone a little heavy on the wine tonight.  In the end, you’d had nothing to fear. Jimin’s friends loved you, and the feeling had been more than mutual. So the drinking turned from anxious to celebratory. Leaving you now stumbling around your boyfriend’s bedroom as he tries to shepherd you towards the closet, where your pajamas (an old t-shirt of his) await.  But you’re not ready for bed. At least, not for sleep. Immediately, your petulant side makes itself known as you drop onto his bed with a pout. “Don’t wanna sleep. Not tired.”  Jimin stops at the end of the bed, reaching for you. His hands are ice, like always, but they feel good laced between your warm fingers. “Didn’t say anything about sleep, now did I?” You try to resist his tugging, try to pull him onto the bed with you. It’s futile. All he has to do is engage a tenth of his vamp strength and you’re on your feet. You squeak in delight.  “I love it when you do that!”  His grin blinds you from this close as he wraps his arms around you. “When I do what?”  “Use your vamp strength and toss me around like a ragdoll.” You sigh happily, beaming as he rubs his nose against yours.  “Like a ragdoll, hmm?” Eyebrow cocked, he spins you around, aiming you towards the closet. “Got it. Now strip it down for me.” 

Untitled YoonMinKook x Reader fic:

As soon as the door is closed, Jungkook’s kissing you, walking you backwards towards his couch. There are no words spoken when he pulls you into his lap, peeling your shirt off so he can run his mouth along the swell of your breasts where they spill over the cups of your bra. Nor are there any when his hand slips down your pants and yours slips down his. It isn’t until he’s got you naked on his bed, thighs wrapped around his ears as his mouth hovers over your cunt, that he finally breaks the silence. “Thank you,” he sighs happily, warm breath dancing across your skin.  The pillows under your head and shoulders give you the perfect view of his face as he peers up at you. “You’re thanking me? For this?” Shouldn’t you be thanking him? “Yeah. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was afraid you were gonna say no.” He grins, a bashful smile more befitting someone who isn’t currently nestled between your legs. His nose crinkles, and you sigh.  You’ve always loved the delicate little slope of his nose. Now, with him nuzzling right into your sensitive nub, you wonder if he’d let you ride it. It looks perfect for riding. “I mean… after the other day, at the cabin…” you trail off when he kisses your inner thigh, lips lightly fluttering there. “You know, I didn’t know you were into guys.” He stops long enough to laugh. “”M not into guys or girls. I’m into people.” His hand gently squeezes your ass as his eyebrows wiggle. “All genders are welcome to flatten me with their thick thighs. I’m an equal opportunity pancake.”  You laugh, which quickly turns into a whimper as he licks along your slit. “Are you saying I have thick thighs?”  “Your thighs are perfect,” he murmurs, breathing into your clit, fingers gripping your plump skin as you unconsciously try to squirm away from the ticklish sensation. He keeps you locked in place, not just with his hands, but with the look he gives you. It tells you to stay still, so you do.  “I’ve never flattened anyone with them, though.”  He smirks, smugness dripping from his voice. “That’s because you’ve never let me do this before.”

3 Published:

Into The Rush:

Seokjin’s gaze bounces between the two of you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”  Taehyung sees you nibbling on your bottom lip and he turns to his brother. “I can explain. Buttercup here-” “Buttercup can speak for herself,” you interject, “and don’t call me that.” With a sigh, you slug back another shot of soju and look at Seokjin. He’s waiting patiently to hear what you have to say. “I was… kinda seeing someone a few months ago. And I thought that I had something with them, and it turned out that I was wrong. They didn’t feel the same way I did, so…” You trail off, not sure how to say ‘so I spent the last few months crying in my room over a broken heart.’ Luckily, Seokjin spares you this confession, nodding sympathetically. “I gotcha,” he says simply, and you nod back, stuffing some rice into your mouth so you don’t cry at the warmth in his expression.  “I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic about who it was,” Taehyung frowns. “She’s talking about Yoongi.” Something passes over Seokjin’s face quickly, so fast you almost miss it as you smack your roommate on his arm. He yelps in shock. “What? He was going to find out eventually, they’re best friends!” 

Versus:

You tug against the restraints, testing their give. There is none.  “Finally, our little dance comes to an end, pretty bird,” Yoongi coos, twirling his dagger, the light from the lamp swinging overhead reflecting off the long blade. “Does that make you sad?” “You make me sad,” you hiss. “You’re pathetic.”  He’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, as usual, refusing to shut up long enough to let you figure out what’s going on with your powers. Again you try to access them and fail.  This isn’t the time to panic. You need to get free. Guess you’ll have to do this the hard way. Yoongi’s gaze rakes over you slowly as you hang helplessly against the wall. Ignoring the sudden stirring in your gut, you pull on the ropes. There. Your left hand. If you can just twist a little more…. Yoongi presses his blade against your throat. The cold metal bites into your skin as his other hand grips your shoulder, and you freeze, going completely still beneath his touch. “What was that, pretty bird?” he asks, cat-like eyes targeted on your lips. “Say that again.” 

Paradise:

Ding! The elevator doors swept open, and you entered, pressing the button for the first floor. “Hold it!” a voice called out as a tall figure jogged into view. You held out your arm, keeping the doors open as your neighbor, Jeon Jungkook, stepped inside. Jungkook nodded appreciatively at you as the doors slid shut. He leaned against the wall, eyes closing as music drifted from the earbuds tucked into his ears. His long black hair fell haphazardly into his face, obscuring his eyes and skimming his cheekbones. He wore his usual oversized hoodie and sweatpants, all black, of course. As far as you were aware, he didn’t own any clothing in any other shade. You let your head rest against the wall as you surreptitiously peered at your neighbor, thinking about just how little you really knew about the man. Two years of living next door to him, and he remained a complete mystery to you. Other than the occasional run-in, you rarely saw Jungkook. You had no idea what he did for a living or how he spent his time, other than the fact that he never seemed to be awake before noon. (The wall between your apartments was woefully thin, enough that you’d gotten to know the shrill bleating of his alarm all too well.) You supposed that you could take the initiative to learn more about him. Maybe try to engage him in conversation beyond the occasional “hey.” But Jungkook didn’t make it easy, the way he’d run back to his apartment anytime you saw him in the hallway, his big brown eyes widening like a startled deer trapped in headlights whenever he was caught off guard by your presence. At least he wasn’t rude. You’d had your share of asshole neighbors. He was nowhere near that list. He just seemed reserved. Maybe even a little shy, given his tendency to dash off like a frightened rabbit. Sometimes, when you’d say hello, his nose would scrunch up and his eyes would squeeze shut as his perfectly pouty lips pulled back to reveal a sweet smile that made your heart flip. The first time he’d grinned like that, you’d been completely disarmed, not expecting this hulking figure in black to transform into a cute little bunny. (You weren’t sure why you automatically thought of innocent woodland creatures when daydreaming about your neighbor’s fine features, but here you were.)

[i-sveikata]

Hello, I just wanted to write that I re-read the last chapter again (I can’t stop) Your fanfic is what kept my mental health going (it was a really hard year) over the past year and I’m grateful for that 🥰But I was so immersed in this story, on  at the moment this is the only ff that I read on this fandom, and it should already be so (for more than a year now, it’s incredible)😊I like that the characters are so alive, the feelings are so vivid, and they are so intertwined with depth and important themes and also  with sex (Vegas's pov still haunts me, I'm really looking forward to reading some kind of sexual experience from his point of view, because he's just so bad for it, AND VERY HOT), but we know that he hides his  real emotions 👀I’m looking forward to how events will develop further, you are so talented 💘It’s so incredible that you can write such a beautiful, emotional story for FREE that will find such a response in many, I’ve been here for a year now and I’ll wait as long as you want to  enjoy this work and read how these two live their happy twisted life (and this is just my wish...in my head it’s a canon that they killed Korn, ehhh dreams)😈At the end I want to wish you health and send hugs 🫂 And if possible,  can I have a little spoiler about “Vegas will do something stupid, and Pete will do something even worse” I’m so interested 😭😭😭 But if not, then I’m okay with it and ready to wait further 💜 P.S. I’m not a native English speaker, I hope everyone is here  It's clear

oh hello there!!! oh my gosh that honestly means so much to hear that and im so happy it could offer something meaningful during the past year though i do hope this year treats you better!!

ahhhhhhh thank you so much!!! im so glad you think i brought it to life that way!! oh wow yes his pov is very much diving under the surface of what Pete has been interpreting this entire time. wow yes and if there is a sex scene in his pov you can bet its going to be deeply obsessed and unsettling whilst we hear how he experiences that from his pov and how it all makes him feel. like dude high key wants to climb inside petes body and live there permanently there will be no normal internal thoughts whilst theyre having sex haha.

youre so right he does hide way too much!!! and were going to be seeing a lot of that the more we have his POV. ah thank you thank you!! its honestly been so amazing that its resonated with people this much and the experience has been so rewarding!! ah thank you youre too sweet!

omg yeah they should murder korn what an idea. thank you!!! sending you good health and hugs too!!!

oh sure!! well basically its going to revolve around pete finally deciding that he wants to bottom but when he tries to bring that up in his usual halting, beating around the bush kind of way vegas just ends up putting his mouth in it. but like in the most extreme, worst way possible. badly enough that pete makes his own petty, spiteful plan instead and decides to go elsewhere, knowing that it will set vegas off in the worst way but hes angry enough to try and rub that in vegas' face.

except- well it backfires and then the both of them are really into it and they both end up getting exactly what they wanted in the end anyway.

hope thats enough of a spoiler hint!

your english is great!!! and its very clear and easy to understand!! honestly so impressed with people who know more than one language and who talk to people in that other language!! like ur brain???? its so powerful!!!

hope you have a nice night!!

[castlebyersafterdark]

ugh youre such a dream thank you for such detailed answers! its so appreciated and i feel as fresh as coming into the fandom all hopeful in summer 2022, up for discussing!

re this: '[wills'] sexuality is less explored in regard to the most baseline aspects of being gay. Is it infantilizing because he's our cute sweet little victim? Is it because he has yet to actually pursue his love interest in the narrative? I'm still working on pondering this myself!! Because it isn't at all how I viewed his situation or character.'

would LOVE to hear more thoughts on this, because i too have not figured it out. tbh, the whole party growing up was a hard pill to swallow at first cos its bittersweet, but it never made me deny will's character a coming of age arc or sexuality arc. i was like - welp, its happening, whether im sad or not that theyre no longer babies. infantilisation makes sense though - i even had non-fan friends who watch the show assume that will was a few grades below the other boys, and much younger.

perhaps for many, they can't accept his growing up because it's reflective of change in general, of the show coming to an end, changing? this is narrative the show itself explores, though - beautifully, i might add.

but i would love to know what your original thoughts on will's character and this storyline prior to all this spicy policing were! how did you view his growing up? was a sexuality storyline inevitable for you?

One thing I never fully understood is the general unease or being uncomfortable thinking about members of the party "growing up" and now viewing them in a different light, meaning getting involved in genuine teenage experiences like sex etc etc et al. I guess I just do find that frustrating sometimes when my view is: everyone grows up, we're there. Hit with: "but we saw them as kids! We watched them grow up! It's weird!" But WHY? I want people to explain why. Stupid analogy, but I think of how dumb it would be if my bf saw some home movie of me as a little kid and turned to me to say "well, unfortunately I can't fuck you anymore. Turns out, you were at one point - a child!" 😂 it sounds like that to me though!!!

Yeah we can still see our cute little babies s1 but we can also watch s5 and appreciate the journey, the coming of age. That's what's gonna make stranger things such a cool show, watching the actual journey from childhood to after (didnt Linklater film Boyhood over a decade to capture growing up in real time? Cool idea, never saw it). It's like any child star in the Hollywood industry. Miley was on Disney but then she started her adult career and were people initially odd about it having a pretty sexual angle? Yeah. Then everyone had to get over it. I acknowledge and understand the adjustment period, but it's frustrating in fandom for these boys that at large it's such a hang up. And, they're fictional. I know the irl actors portraying them plays into all this but... still.

(Then we got the M'leave-hers out here wanting Mike and El to get married and start having babies in s5 while we can't even talk about byler having a heated makeout or joke about Mike checking out Will's ass without pitchforks thrown our way. Booo)

As for what I thought for the shows trajectory, I did always hope we'd get an exploration of Will's sexuality as time went on. I really thought that was built into his character from the beginning (and it was and I was right) like it's one of the first things we learn about this little boy, with what Lonnie thought of him ☹️. I always wanted to see what they actually did with that and now it'll be a really, really incredible payoff if he does Get the Boy. I wasn't even really thinking too hard about byler back then but I can't even describe how heartbreaking that little moment when he tells Joyce "I'm not gonna fall in love" is in context, just... it always gets to me. S4 was a game changer and seeing what they were doing with Will and Mike? Hooked me. Decided to actually look into the fandom as something I wanted to engage w beyond just TV and the occasional pretty gifset or funny interview clip I came across on my dash or theories on reddit - shock and awe when eventually I saw how the vocal asshole fans acted. Debates and witch hunts over how far just a kissing scene can go? Sad.

Byler is great, byler is cute and palatable until you acknowledge that gay teenagers feel desire and maybe have sex, woah! People were even weird about aged up fic and art and everything! Still stumped to an extent about it. Our canon gay character (two, actually, just yet to be hmmm canonized lol) gets the sanitized treatment while Steve and Eddie and all their fanon post 7000 E rated fics w little complaint. (Finding out that was actually as popular as it is really shocked me?) I'd celebrate that and care about them more if the differences weren't so annoying. Just because of the age thing. Oh, get over it. Wish I'd taken a stand from the beginning and just did what I wanted without feeling awkward and going with the status quo. Lame. But maybe this is better, so much nicer having complete openness and a relative fresh start.

[notafunkiller]

I saw your response (towards the ask about the possibility of Sebastian getting into a relationship with someone younger), and I must say, I loved how well-written and balanced the discussion was on both sides. It was incredibly interesting, especially since I haven't seen this topic discussed in such detail before. Normally, I'm not someone who publicly asks questions or engages in discussions, but the respectful and insightful nature of your response made me feel comfortable doing so.

This brings me to a question regarding what you both talked about: do you think Sebastian would date a woman in the 18-20 age range, assuming she fulfills the values both of you have emphasized?

Given what was discussed and out of my view, I believe it's possible Sebastian could date someone in that age range if she embodies the maturity, emotional intelligence, and deep connection he values. As you mentioned, he does seem to appreciate youthful energy and doesn't judge people by their age. His concern might stem more from public perception and the potential impact on his career rather than the age gap itself. He is, after all, deeply affected by others' opinions and is an overthinker, which could make him cautious about how such a relationship would be perceived in the public eye and its effect on his professional life. ( Like you said, because i completely agree with you and the other person!)

However, if he finds someone who aligns with his emotional depth and life goals, the age difference might become a secondary consideration. As you pointed out, younger individuals can possess significant life experience and emotional intelligence. His previous relationships show that he values genuine connections over societal expectations regarding age.

Ultimately, finding someone who shares his emotional depth and commitment, with whom he forms a genuine connection, is what's most important. Age, while a factor, might not be the defining one if the emotional bond and mutual understanding are strong. So, if he meets someone in the 18-20 age range who fulfills these values, it’s entirely possible that he would embrace such a relationship despite any potential public scrutiny or career implications.

Even though I think for this to happen, it must be the right person and right time, so Sebastian feels secure enough to take the ‘risk’.

This is like genuine curiosity because I have a lot of people around me who have an age gap of 20+ years, and their relationships are literally so beautiful to see. They often have a unique dynamic where the differences in their experiences and perspectives complement each other, creating a rich and fulfilling connection. Observing these relationships has shown me that age gaps can contribute to a deeper understanding and appreciation between partners, defying conventional expectations and demonstrating that love and compatibility are not constrained by age.

(But please note that it’s only my personal view and I hope no one feels attacked by this, since this is not meant to be anything negative!)

Okay this definitely turned out longer than expected, sorry for that💗

Firstly, do not apologize, thank you for the message! You are welcome any time to write as much as you feel!

Secondly, you are really sweet and thoughtful!

I don't personally think he'd go for someone under 20-21, but thebrest of things you wrote wrote? Absolutely perfectly said!

Age, while a factor, might not be the defining one if the emotional bond and mutual understanding are strong.

Totally, and as someone who judged age gaps before and still judges sometimes, getting in my 20s and meeting older people (as in general, not dating) made me realize immature people can be 18, 28 or 57. It is not a rule, and age gaps do not define relationships... I mean, it is one of the factors, but not the only factor.

You can meet the most mature (in a similar life stage with you) person and they can be younger than you by... a decade. Social life, personality, family, connections, hobbies etc they all represent factors that influences this.

This is like genuine curiosity because I have a lot of people around me who have an age gap of 20+ years, and their relationships are literally so beautiful to see. They often have a unique dynamic where the differences in their experiences and perspectives complement each other, creating a rich and fulfilling connection.

This is why I started to change my opinion or at least not judge everyone. Age gaps are tricky because the issue in general for me used to be and is sometimes the power dynamic and life experience difference. Younger people tend to be manipulated and influenced kinda more (ofc it depends on the personality and education too), so this is why I used to be super hesitant.

But I also saw amazing dynamic between couples with a big age gap and the levels of teasing, respect, and understanding? Absolutely amazing and genuinely heart warming!

At the end of the day, it's all about how shítty you are, if you wanna manipulate and hurt or change the person you are with or if you want to build something with that person because you love and respect and are interested them, not just by the idea of them.

Observing these relationships has shown me that age gaps can contribute to a deeper understanding and appreciation between partners, defying conventional expectations and demonstrating that love and compatibility are not constrained by age.

This is beautifully said! I learned not to judge so hard and listen to the story first because as you said: some couples defy the conventional expectations in a very healthy way & love and compatibility are not contrained by age (especially if you have the same/similar emotional maturity, trauma, experiences etc)

And I think Sebastian with his energy, lifestyle, taste in general should be more courageous and try not to think so much about how he is perceived (but I understand how hard this is and in his case it's related to his career too), but it's hard.

Also, as I said, feel free to talk as much as you want and do not apologize🌸

[batrachised]

Fic Recs

So I'm about to hop off the internet for Lent (i'll just be checking this blog weekly and I FULLY expect ya'll to tag me in all interesting LMM things I might otherwise miss), and I thought as a last hurrah, I'd curate a rec list of my favorite Walter Blythe fanfics!! We Walter Blythe fans are a small but mighty group, shown in the love for him in fic. The following includes Walter lives AUs, Walter in the background, Walter and Una, Walter and Jem...thanks to all of these wonderful fic authors who have gifted us with such incredible stories!

Come Back Home by freyafrida: Walter survives Courcelette. In a way.

The king of all Walter lives AUs in my head. The characterization is very believable, and the slow build of a relationship between Walter and Una sweet. This fic is what turned me onto my "must write 10k of fic about walter/una in two days'" path. I particularly like how this fic continues LMM's work in acknowledging the impact of the war on PEI.

Arcos Iris by freyafrida: The Blythes and Merediths grow up. (One-shots set between Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside.)

Honestly I recommend everything by this author because the character work is great. The little snippets fill in emotional gaps I didn't even know I had regarding the story, whether it's more child Walter and Una interaction or the beginnings of Faith & Jem's friendship evolving into romance.

but i don't know who you are by freyafrida: Five people Walter thought he wanted, and one person he didn't notice until it was too late.

at this point you may be wondering, does batrachised read any other author besides this one? But once again, Walter feels very true to the books in these vignettes. I also like the interpretation of a bi Walter. This also provides a wider cast of characters (we get a paul and a pat cameo!).

A New Morning by fluffybun. AU from Rilla of Ingleside. Walter returns to Ingleside many years after the war. Squint at relationships.

I love how this fleshes out what happens to the characters after Rilla, even in brief glimpses. I also love this fic's take on Walter's view of Una--he thinks of her as "realized hope," and I was like 🥺 🥺 🥺 

True things that are not, but might be by alwaysspeakshermind. A rambling collection of random tales that feature some of my favorite L.M. Montgomery characters/background relationships.

This collection of stories was downright precious and does a fantastic job nailing LMM's writing style. While only one chapter focuses on Walter, the rest are worth the read. A sampling of its delight:

“He would,” Jem agreed, thinking wryly of his brother’s tendency to imagine himself right into the shoes of just about anyone or anything. Once when they were younger, he’d seen Dad sit him down and explain very seriously that toads were durable creatures and highly unlikely to die of a broken heart, so there was not much point in worrying about them.

[mrlarkstin]

Stopping by to let you know I think your poses are absolutely incredible! Give that dragon all the hugs, and your OC is really interesting too!

Ahhhh thank you so much!!

It means a lot to me to get this, thank you. Coming from Twitter where everything is designed to be "consumed content" I never feel like my stuff matters much since I can't always put things out (yay work). But Tumblr, at least from what I've seen, has had a very different view on fanworks and how its "consumed". A lot of people have said very kind things, very sweet things. Where on Twitter I just get a like and thats it, it always warms my heart to just get a nice little "Oh this is cute!".

So thank you, you've made my day and it means a lot to me!

[softquietsteadylove]

I enjoyed the thenamesh actor au pretty much! Would you write some cute fluff how Thena and Sprite are visiting Gil, spending a nice and fun evening with cooking and then watching a movie and Gil ( he has taken his medication after dinner) falls asleep on Thenas shoulder? Sprite noticing the beautiful chemistry between them?<3

"Hey."

"Hey," Gil smiled as a wisp of blond drifted into his view as he loaded the dishwasher (slowly).

"Thanks for dinner," Thena repeated from several times earlier already, bringing over hers and Sprite's plates from the table. "It really was incredible, Gil."

"Aw," he blushed. "It's the least I could do; you've been such a help since the whole arm thing."

Thena's eyes drifted down to his broken arm in his sling, as it did often. "I wish I could do more."

"Trust me, Thena," Gil closed up the dishwasher and patted her shoulder ever so gently, "it's plenty."

She smiled up at him. The soft lighting of the kitchen really brought out his handsomeness.

"Go sit down with Sprite," he nudged her with a grin, "make sure she doesn't pick something with me in it--I can't bear watching myself with people."

"I know the feeling," Thena laughed, drifting off into the living room as Gil reached for the painkillers he'd been prescribed.

Sprite barely looked away from her scrolling as Thena sat down on Gil's large sectional couch. "You two done flirting?"

"Sprite!" Thena hissed at her sister.

"I had to sit through you two making eyes at each other all through dinner," Sprite pointed out liberally, despite the murderous look on her sister's face. "Not bringing it up until now is a testament to my restraint."

"I mean it," Thena pointed her finger in her sister's face. "You are making him uncomfortable and he is our host, who has been nothing but very sweet with you, may I add."

"You may, but that only makes you like him more," Sprite pointed out. As much as she wasn't really into the idea of hearing about her sister's obvious crush on her co-star, part of her couldn't help its curiosity.

Unfortunately, Thena was so in denial about her feelings for him that she was underwater.

"Don't pick anything with Gil in it, says he can't stand watching himself," Thena murmured, eyes drifting down to her lap as Sprite scrolled through the options on the tv.

Sprite just nodded. Thena had the same problem, although Sprite never had any real desire to watch stuff with her in it. She really did think Thena was a great actress, but it was still just her sister--she saw her everyday.

"Okay," Gil mumbled as he sat himself on the couch with him. "What'd we find?"

"Still looking," Thena sighed, loudly enough for Sprite to know it was expressed just for her.

"Okay, okay," the teenager grumbled back, settling on a thriller. "Oh, this is Sersi's new thing!"

Thena smiled at Gil on the other side of her, "Sersi is our cousin."

"I heard about this movie," Gil nodded as the opening logos began. "Apparently there was a lot of drama onset."

"Unfortunately, although Sersi managed to escape a good deal of it," Thena sighed, unfolding her crossed legs and relaxing her stiff posture. "It doesn't surprise me, with Eros in its cast."

"Have you worked with him before?" Gil asked more quietly as the movie began.

"Once or twice," Thena whispered in reply, even shifting to angle herself more in Gil's direction. "He's...interesting."

Gil raised a brow at the diplomatic choice of words. "What am I--the press?"

Thena let out a little giggle, still trying to keep quiet for Sprite's sake of watching undisturbed.

Sprite wasn't paying attention anyway. She only really cared to watch Sersi's parts. And besides that, the little display happening on the couch right next to her was way too distracting to be ignored.

"I've read stuff about him," Gil whispered, leaning his head down closer to Thena. "He's pretty vocal about having a thing for you."

Thena rolled her eyes, missing the visible amusement - and maybe something else - on Gilgamesh's face as she did. "I think part of his image is being a bit of a stud. But he's closer to Sprite's age than ours."

Sprite rolled her eyes too. That was a bit of an exaggeration, not that she thought much of the slightly pompous actor from the once or twice she'd met him.

"I don't see how that'd stop him," Gil shrugged, his words running together slightly as his eyes drooped. "If you're beautiful, you're beautiful--and you are."

Sprite resisted the urge to call her sister out on her visible fluster.

"He's said so," Gil mumbled out, although it ran right into his yawning. "Said he wishes he could have the opportunity to work with the beautiful 'Goddess' herself."

Thena blinked as Gil leaned - slumped - even closer.

"I think even that's an understatement," Gil practically slurred. His back slid further and further down on the couch until his head collided with Thena's shoulder.

"Gil?" Thena blinked, whispering to him but not daring to turn her head to actually look at him.

Gil just adjusted his position, nuzzling even closer into her.

"Thena, please, I'm right here."

"Sprite!" Thena hissed at her again.

"Sh, Thena," Sprite laughed as she leaned back on the luxurious couch and pointed at the tv, "trying to watch."

Damned menace of a sister. Thena rolled her eyes, not moving a muscle as Gil fell into an even deeper sleep with her for a support. It was a good thing that he was also up against the back of the couch. Although his heaviness wasn't quite too much--it was almost kind of nice. He was solid, but not sharp edged, and he was bulky, but there was some softness to it that was nice too.

Thena smiled to herself as Sprite lowered the volume to barely audible, even turning on the subtitles. For all her surliness and general teenaged attitude, Sprite still had a warm heart under all of it. "Thanks, Sprite."

"Sh," Sprite smiled back at her, "watching."

[deadmaidclub]

u r in no way forced to do this i am simply throwing the idea out there bc i love ur art and especially ur recent mlp art so bad !

but i am so interested in like. ur individual character designs for the mane 6 like their fashion a. like. a. (god i hate english as a second langauge) a full view of them?? like head to toe?? u draw them so incredibly all those designs are engraved in my brain so i just wanted to say that ! i hope you continue to fuel your passion in drawing because it's really truly wonderful <3

oh thank you!!! my designs kind of change based on what i want to draw them looking like at that specific moment (usually just a few design points that i alter between) so its never really concrete but i could definitely do a full body of the specific designs i used in my recent post (just for you mwah)!!!

and thank you so much ;;w;; that is so sweet