#studying y’all like bugs

[slices-of-naranja]

I love the strange and the weird and the Too Much. Please. Please be a freak. Be a weirdo. I don’t mean cross boundaries or be mean or whatever. I mean you should Kiss your computer on the mouths. Eat your guitars. Tell me about how you want to swim in music and touch it with your hands and gather it in your palms. Show me the wretched little creatures that you see yourselves in, or maybe just love to study like bugs under a microscope. Tell me your favorite bugs!! Tell me what angels are!!! Or what video game means so much to you!!! Never be afraid of being too much of yourself around me because, and I mean this in the kindest way possible, I want to study you. I want to study every single person I have ever come across.

I fucking love humans and all the indescribable experiences and I love how alien and animalistic and mechanical and freaky you all are.

Let me open you up and see what’s inside. Please.

[stardust-sunset]

can my history teacher please shut the fuck up i get it’s a college class!! i get that! you don’t need to keep telling me i’m gonna fail!!

[strang3lov3]

Pharmacy

Summary: (mall rats 6) Surrounded by medical supplies is a convenient time to slice your hand open. Joel wrestles your stubborn ass to treat your wound, then fucks you how you like.

Tags: Jar Jar Binks, Star Wars opinions, manhandling, descriptions of injuries (I tried to keep it as short and sweet as I could, bc I myself am a squeamish girl!! I was squirming the whole time writing this!!!) blowjobs, f masturbation, kinda rough unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, reader and Joel have googly eyes for each other

A/N: as always thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. Thank you all for your continued patience with my writing, I am a busy busy lady and you may not get another fic from me for two weeks or more with the whole finals thing, but I do have lots of shit planned! One thing at a time bug one thing at a time. I wish I could write smut for my history of Indiana final essay but I don’t think that would fly with my nun-obsessed professor. Also, thank you @noxturnalpascal and @speckledemerald for hyping me up ❤️❤️

Joel is standing in front of a map of the mall, studying it intently. It’s been a while since you’ve been at the mall with Joel, actually. With the weather getting worse with more and more snow, Tommy is trying to keep travel limited to patrol. Supply runs for necessities only, and Jackson is in need of medical supplies. Rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, first aid supplies. There’s actually a medical building not far from Jackson, but it’s pretty well picked over at this point. 

“Mall has a pharmacy. A CVS or Walgreens, somethin’ like that. I’ll go,” Joel had volunteered in Tommy’s office. 

“I’ll come too,” you added as you were helping Tommy fill out patrol logs.

Joel sighed, “No.” 

“Why not?”

“Supposed to be a quick trip. In and out. Don’t need you gettin’ distracted by lotions and perfumes again.”

“Those are necessities,” you argue, “Besides, buddy system. It’s important for us to stick together.” 

“We are not buddies,” Joel scoffed. Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“No? What are we, then?” 

Joel opened his mouth as if to answer with something sharp and argumentative, but no words came out. His cheeks turned rosy as you both shared an odd look, with Joel’s hands frozen on the buttons of his coat. The pencil you wrote with felt heavy in your hand, held awkwardly on the paper as you stared at Joel. You didn’t mean for that question to come out the way it did. What was the answer to the question, anyway? 

Tommy filled the silence with his own answer. “I know what y’all are,” he smirked. 

Joel shot Tommy a warning look, then took your jacket from behind your chair and held it open for you. “Let’s go, then,” he said. You put your arms through the sleeves, zipped yourself up and left. You could hear Tommy chuckling to himself as you walked out with Joel.

You rode horseback to the mall. Still feeling awkward from the interaction at Tommy’s, you both stayed silent, but the ride wasn’t uncomfortable. You hugged Joel tightly, and Joel savored the warmth of your cheek on his back. 

“Found it,” Joel taps the map, “I remember now. It’s downstairs.”

“Ha!” you brag, “I told you. I knew it was downstairs. I was right.” 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll throw a party when we get home,” Joel replied, taking off towards the dilapidated staircase. You follow close behind, dragging your fingers against the railing, letting your hand tap each of the thin rods that support it. One breaks off and falls with a clatter. Joel doesn’t bother turning around to see what it was. “You break these stairs, you find us a new way out of here,” he warns. Dramatic. You pick up the thin rail and twirl it as you walk behind Joel, then poke his ass with the piece of metal. Already exhausted by you, he sighs, “What’d you find now, trouble?”

“Lightsaber,” you answer. 

“What?” Joel tilts his head and turns around to finally see what all the noise and clattering was. You’re holding one of the thin rods from the railing, still twirling it. “No, put that down,” he tells you, “You’re gonna give yourself tetanus. Put it down, sweetheart.”

“Ellie lent me this DVD. Did you ever see this old movie, Star Wars?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Joel grumbles, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Ain’t that old, smartass. And of course I’ve watched Star Wars, who do you think introduced it to her?”

“Oh,” you reply, “Well, there was this character, Jar Jar–”

“Nope,” Joel cuts you off, “You’re done. Lost your talkin’ privileges. Drop your lightsaber and zip it.”

Still twirling the rod you ask, “You don’t like Star Wars?”

“I like Star Wars. What you watched is not Star Wars.”

“Yes it is, Joel. It was on the DVD.” 

Joel turns back around and keeps walking, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yeah I do. Mesa–”

Joel interrupts, “Do not finish that sentence,” he warns, “God, that movie was so stupid. Took Sarah to see it when it came out, we ended up leavin’ halfway through and gettin’ ice cream instead.” You watch Joel smile at the memory as you approach the pharmacy and he holds the door open for you. You smile with him. Joel doesn’t talk about Sarah much with you, but he mentions her now and then, at least more than he used to.

You and Joel find the first aid aisle of the pharmacy. He knows what to look for, so he peruses the aisles and stuffs his bag full of supplies. Watching him bend over, you can’t help but poke his ass again. “Knock it off, space cadet,” he says, annoyed.

You giggle to yourself and toss the rod aside. You hadn’t realized the end that you were holding was damaged when you broke it off the railing. Fuck. It’s sharp, jagged, and slices your palm all the way across. The rod clangs on the ground and startles Joel. 

Joel turns around to see the rod on the ground, and you clutching your fist tightly. “What’s in your hand?”

“Nothing,” you answer, feeling your hand become warm and wet. 

Joel connects the dots. He bends over and checks the rod for rust and there’s none, thank god. But the end is very jagged, almost serrated like a knife. “Open your hand.”

“No,” pressing your lips together, you lower your gaze and open your fist slightly to check your hand, then quickly shut it. Joel watches your eyes go wide and the color draining from your face. “It’s n–mmm,” you hum, your voice shaky, “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fine,” Joel reaches for your hand, “You’re hurt. Need to see how deep that cut is, clean it and–”

You shove Joel backward with your free hand, and he looks momentarily taken aback. There was a lot more strength behind that shove than he would have anticipated. You’re not playing, not teasing like usual. “Do you wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice firm.

“Don’t touch me.” 

Joel takes in your expression. You’re not trying to start a fight with him, you look worried, anxious, and defensive with pale lips and trembling hands. You had mentioned not handling blood or pain well before, but he didn’t know you were this squeamish, you poor thing. “I have to, hon.”

“Joel…”

Joel raises a hand in your direction, “Don’t argue with me on this. You need to sit down, I can tell you’re gettin’ freaked.”

“Joel,” you say his name again in a warning tone, much sharper than before. 

“I know,” he says softly, as he steps closer to you, and you step back, your feet hitting the wall behind you. You’re feeling more amped up now. “Just let me look,” as he reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, his grip tightening when you struggle against him and try to pull your arm away. “Quit squrimin’,” he grits his teeth as he fights against your strength. Minding his own strength, and with one hand gripping your wrist, he moves the other to your shoulder and forces you to the ground as gently as he can. A sliced hand is bad enough, he doesn’t need you fainting and cracking your skull open. You kick your legs and punch against him, but he pins his body on top of yours, your free hand between your body and his leg.

“Get the fuck off me, Joel,” you spit, “Get off, get off, get–”

“Hey. Hey,” he says, his voice firm yet gentle, “Breathe, sweetheart. I know you’re nervous.”

You stare at Joel with fiery eyes, breathing heavily through your nose. Shallow breaths, probably not getting enough oxygen to your brain, but at least you’re breathing. Joel gives you a moment to settle down.

“I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, “I don’t know how deep your cut is. I need you to let me look.”

“Please,” you beg, “Please don’t.”

“I’m gonna be gentle,” Joel promises as he flips your wrist up, gently beginning to pry your fingers open, “You look at me. Don’t look at your hand. Just look at me. Will you trust me?” 

Nodding apprehensively, you keep your focus on Joel. He nods in response, then examines your palm. He bites his cheek and frowns. 

“Is it bad?” you ask shakily.

“Uhh,” he hums, “It’s not good,” he answers you honestly. You’re cut in multiple areas and by the looks of it, the gashes go pretty deep. “You might need stitches.”

Fuck that. You squirm under Joel with all of your might to force him off of you. 

“Stop thrashin’. Stop it,” he says, holding your jaw firmly and looking into your eyes, “I’m not gonna stitch ya. We can cross that bridge when we get to Jackson. But you are risking infection. So I’m going to stop the bleeding, wash it, disinfect, then wrap your hand. That’s all.”

He has a tendency to get frustrated with you, and you’re sure he’s beyond frustrated with you right now, but he’s not showing it. He looks sincere, but you’re still on edge and lacking assurance. “Promise?” you whisper.

“I swear,” he assures softly, rubbing your jaw gently with his thumb. When you nod in response, Joel takes his coat off and folds it, then slides it under your head. He needs you as comfortable as you can be. 

“We are gonna have to amputate, though,” he jokes as he pulls out a rag from his bag and presses it into your hand. You give him a dirty look. “Kidding,” he says. 

Joel removes the rag to see if your hand is still bleeding. You catch a glimpse of the cut and the blood in your palm, running down your wrist, “Oh god, my hand, Joel–”

“Don’t look,” he repeats, “Just keep lookin’ at me, sweetheart.”

But you don’t. You can’t seem to peel your eyes away, and you feel lightheaded. Joel notices.

“Tell me somethin’ new,” he says, distracting you from the pain.

“Joel, please,” you whine.

“Somethin’ new,” he reminds you.

“I saw a cat yesterday.”

Joel nods in response. “What color?” he asks.

“Uh, calico,” you reply. He’s reaching into his bag, pulling out his canteen and rinsing your hand out with his water. The cool water feels soothing on your palm. 

“What’s calico?”

“It’s when a cat has three colors, Joel,” you answer impatiently, as if the answer should be glaringly obvious to him. “Fuck,”  you hiss, as he pats the wound dry. The fabric feels irritating and painful against you. 

“Tell me more. Tell me good things.”

Following his instructions, you begin rambling. It’s not hard once you start. “I saw a cat and I kicked Tommy’s ass in a board game and his baby is so cute, by the way. Almost as cute as the cat.”

“You think cats are cuter than babies?”

“Obviously. Babies are gross and they’re noisy and I finished the sweater I was crocheting for Maria and the snow looks pretty and I love you and I…” 

Joel pauses his work on your hand momentarily. He doesn't hear anything else you say after those three words. I love you. It’s a fuzzy sort of quiet, he’s in disbelief. I love you. When your hand twitches, he pulls his focus back to you.

“...And I watched Star Wars.”

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, “You said that already, you said–”

“I did? Oh yeah. I guess I did.”

You’re clearly delirious, in panic mode, and not thinking straight. You don’t remember talking about Star Wars an hour ago, you don’t even realize what just slipped your lips a second ago. Joel smiles to himself. He’s suspected it for a while. He loves you too. But that’s a conversation for later. There’s a more pressing issue at hand, quite literally.

Joel clears his throat and blinks a couple of times. “Uhm,” he hums, thinking of something to say, “And you said you got that movie from Ellie? The Phantom Menace?” 

“Star Wars.”

“Yeah, Star Wars Episode I, The Phantom Menace,” he corrects you. You shrug. “Unbelievable,” Joel says, “Thought I taught that girl better.” He reaches for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and keeps your hand open in his. “Alright, deep breath in and out. This is the worst part, then we’re done.” 

Before you have time to breathe in and out as instructed, before you have time to argue, Joel dumps the alcohol in your palm. You yelp and tug your hand away, but he holds it still.

“I know, I know, I know, baby,” he coos, “Almost done.”

“Joel,” you cry.

“Look, all done,” he whispers as tears off a piece of gauze and lays it over your gash. “See? All done. Just need to wrap it,” Joel prepares more gauze, “Makes sense you’ve identified with Jar Jar, of all characters.” 

“What do you mean?”

Joel begins to wrap the bandage tightly around your hand. “Clumsy,” he murmurs, “Troublemakin’... accident prone.” 

“I don’t think you like Star Wars,” you tell him.

“Not the prequels,” Joel replies, “Only good thing about the outbreak is that they couldn’t finish that godforsaken mess of a trilogy.”

“What do you mean, ‘prequels’?”

“There was an original trilogy that came out before that movie you watched. Ellie didn’t show you them?”, and you shake your head no, “So you don’t know Han Solo or Princess Leia. That means nothin’ to ya?”

“Nope.”

“Jesus Christ. What about C-3PO? R2-D2?”

“Oh, yeah. I know them. They were in that movie.”

“No,” Joel disagrees, then looking baffled for a second before nodding his head as he remembers the hour he spent watching that movie with Sarah years and years ago. “Mm, yeah, you’re right. Guess they were,” Joel concedes, “We’ll have to rectify this, you know. Have a movie night sometime.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, “You can make me popcorn.” 

“I’ll make you popcorn,” Joel says, watching a smile form on your lips. “There it is,” he praises, “Missed that smile. Don’t like seein’ you upset like that,” he murmurs, finishing your bandage wrap and securing it in place. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asks as he presses a kiss to your palm before he lets your hand go. You can still feel the warmth of his touch on your skin as he watches you and your cheeks begin to warm.

“I know what you’re gonna do with me,” you whisper. 

I’m gonna kiss you, and I’ll tell you that I love you too. That’s what I’m gonna do with you, Joel thinks, his heart beginning to race.

“Tell me, sweetheart.” 

“You’re gonna listen to my Jar Jar impression.”

Joel sighs. He watches you with adoration, and he wants nothing more than to express that adoration for you. It’ll happen when it happens. He decides to let it go for now and play along with you instead, however you want to. You deserve it, after all. He’ll put up a facade like you drive him crazy and he’ll let you believe you’re really getting under his skin, just to watch you smile and hear you laugh like you really got him this time. And he’ll tease you back, at least once more. 

“Please spare me until I lose my hearing in my other ear.” 

You oblige, smiling and rolling your eyes. Still holding eye contact with Joel, you become acutely aware of the position you’re in, that all too familiar position. Faces close, bodies closer and staring into his sparkly, warm brown eyes with his weight pressing into you. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, the way he took care of you, who knows. Out of the blue, you’re turned on and Joel knows. Joel cocks an eyebrow when your breath hitches, when you bite your lip and begin to squirm underneath him, seemingly now uncomfortable, aroused no doubt. “Time and place, hon,” he smirks smugly.

Heat rises up your neck and your cheeks at his accusation, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yeah, you do. I know how you operate,” he asserts. “What’s got ya all worked up all of a sudden?” Joel asks, his hand caressing your cheek, your jaw.

“Nothing,” you lie. Your skin burns where his fingers trace.

“I think you’re lyin’. I know you like when I get rough with ya, just wasn’t expectin’ ya to like it now of all times, when I had to wrestle you down to fix that gash in your hand,” Joel taunts, “You’re very stubborn sometimes, you know that?” 

“Challenging,” you counter his claim, “And I wasn’t being stubborn. I could have taken care of my hand myself. I didn’t really need your help.”

Joel knows that’s a lie. You did, in fact, need his help. Badly. 

“That right there is stubborn.”

“No,” you argue, “And I’m not worked up right now, either.” Joel makes an amused face at you, and you wince internally. 

Shit. You fucked that up. Overcompensated.

“Right. Course not.” 

Against your better judgment, you open your mouth to argue further but Joel hushes you. “What do I get if you’re wet right now, sweetheart?” he whispers, unbuttoning your jeans. Your tummy flutters with desire as his fingertips skate across your skin. “You’re more than welcome to stop me right now,” he purrs. He’s giving you an out, a moment to make a choice, but you don’t dare stop him. And Joel grins. He snakes his hand down your pants, underneath your thin cotton panties. The anticipation builds with the tickle of his fingers lightly dragging over your mound, his middle and ring fingers tracing over your lips. You gasp quietly when he dips his fingers at your core, his fingertips collecting your arousal. You stifle a whine as he pulls his hand away from your body, showing you his two fingers glistening with your slick. Joel clicks his tongue, “Can’t be comfortable,” he murmurs, his tone sarcastic and sympathetic all at the same time. “This all for me?”

“No,” you breathe shakily. Yes. 

“You’re lyin’ to me,” he mumbles, bringing his two fingers to his lips. His mouth makes obscene noises as he sucks them clean of your arousal, humming at the sweet taste. Before you can think, he’s pulling your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, his fingers finding their place back at your pussy. “You could tell me the truth and I’d go easy on ya,” he offers, his thumb pressing against your clit.

You love the thrill, that feeling in your stomach. Joel gives you a moment to answer, but you don’t. “No?”  he asks before situating himself on the ground with you, backing himself against a wall and pulling you into his lap. “Gonna make it worse for yourself,” he says, spreading your legs apart and hiking up your shirt, one hand playing with your pussy and the other kneading your breasts, teasing your nipples, “Why don’t you tell me how much ya needed this, hm? How you want me to make it all better.”

You sigh, a soft Joel falling from your lips as you become wetter, more sensitive as Joel’s fingers dance through your slick folds. He pushes two fingers inside you, fingers curling into that spot that he so loves. His thumb rubs tight, steady circles around your clit and he flicks the thumb of his other hand across your sensitive nipples, the combination of actions filling you with a deep, hot pleasure. You rest your head on his shoulder, the scratchy hairs on his cheek pressing against your forehead. You reach behind yourself to touch him, tangling your fingers in his curls.

“We’ll do this the hard way, then,” Joel shoves you forward, careful not to use too much of his strength but enough to let you know that he’s in charge. He’s always in charge. He takes his folded coat from the ground and positions it in front of himself. He stands up tall, knees popping as he rises. “Since you have nothin’ better to do with your mouth than tellin’ lies…”  Joel snaps and points to his coat, “Might as well keep you quiet instead. Down,” he instructs, “On your knees. Do it now.”

“Yes, Joel,” as you assume the position.

“Ah, now she speaks,” he taunts, the quiet metallic clang of him undoing his belt buckle sending excitement shooting through you. “Open,” is his next command, “Nice n’ wide, hon, you know how,” he instructs as he pulls out his cock, hard and with a pearly bead of precum glistening on his head. You open your mouth for Joel, eyes wide and Joel taps his member on your tongue. “Keep ya from doin’ that stupid fuckin’ impression, too.”

Your eyes light up as you think of something quippy to say, but Joel slides his cock into your mouth to keep you from doing so. “Ah-ah,” he tuts, “Quiet.” He’s delicious, masculine, heady, and intense. He fills your mouth entirely and you swirl your tongue around him, tracing thick veins and salty skin. “Attagirl,” Joel praises you, gripping the back of your head and pushing himself further into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you, “Right there.”

He pushes you further than you’re used to, but not to the point of discomfort. His tummy nudges your forehead as your nose presses against dark curls at the base of his dick and you use your hand to cup his balls. As you hum against him, you wonder if Joel intends for this to be a punishment. His tone and the way he conducts himself is commanding, but the way he fucks your mouth is gentle. 

“Still not worked up, right? Don’t need me?”, he asks, staring down at you with raised eyebrows. You shake your head no, lying again. “Okay,” he says, “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on your fingers. But don’t come. Not until you tell me what I wanna hear.” 

Your eyes flutter shut as you bring your fingers to your core, feeling your arousal. You push two fingers into your dripping pussy, pumping them in and out and trying to mimic the way it feels when Joel does it.

As you fuck yourself, you hollow your cheeks around his thick cock, letting him feel every inch of your soft and wet mouth. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your cheek is gentle, caressing your skin softly. He looks down at you through hooded lids and as your eyes flutter shut, you wonder what he’s thinking. 

The way you’re touching your pussy hardly counts as fucking yourself, it’s teasing at best, and excruciating at that. You rub circles around your clit steadily, subtly, needing more than what he’s told you to give yourself. With your fingers working your clit and your mouth working Joel, the familiar pleasure of your climax is just within reach. Feeling yourself reaching your peak, you look up at Joel, “What are you doin’?”, he asks, like he’s caught you doing something you shouldn’t be.

You pull your mouth off of his cock to whisper, “Please, Joel,” which garners an irritated look from him. Joel bends lower to grab you by your bicep and force you to your feet, spinning you around and bending you over an empty shelf of an end cap. He parts your legs and drags his cock through your folds with one hand, the other gripping your hip. 

“Need those magic words, sweetheart. Say it, ‘I need you, Joel’. Go on, now. You got it.”

With the leftover feeling of your ruined orgasm and Joel’s cock teasing your pussy, you fold immediately. “I need you, Joel,” you breathe, “I need you.” 

“Tell me more. How do you need me?” as he continues to tease. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp, “Please.”

“Need me to fuck ya,” he repeats, amused. Joel notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, “How ‘bout that. Tell me somethin’ I didn’t know.” 

It’s a rhetorical question. He doesn’t give you time to answer before he buries himself inside of you. You groan at the sudden intrusion, how deeply he enters you and how full you feel. 

He doesn’t need to experiment with you, doesn’t need to vary how he fucks you. You grip the edge of the end cap with both hands as he finds his pace immediately. His cock hits you right where you need him. 

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, reaching for your bandaged hand, “Don’t hold that. S’gonna hurt your hand. Hold mine instead,” as he wraps his palm around yours. “Better?”

“Better.”

You’re lost in it all, his hand holding yours tightly and his thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. His face is right next to yours, his nose buried in your hair as he nips at your ear. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as he fucks you. He moans softly, his breath feels warm. Each thrust feels deep and intentional. “Good girl. Takin’ my cock so good.”

“Yes, Joel,” you moan. 

He makes stuttering, strangled sort of noises. His breathing is sharp and unsteady through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture him perfectly, his messy salt and pepper curls and that deep set line between his brows. 

He fucks you hard and rough, both of you panting and moaning. Soon enough, his rhythm becomes frenetic and stuttering. “Squ– fuck, squeezin’ me too good, I’m not gonna last, sweetheart.”

“Let me come, Joel,” you plead, “Please.”

“I know, I know. Don’t need to beg me, darlin’,” Joel coos. He snakes his hand between your thighs and quickly finds your clit, his thrusts still steady and deep. He expertly paints circles around your clit as he becomes sloppier and frenzied. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls begin to clench and squeeze him, “Right there, right there, fuck.”

“Yeah, s’it, let go for me,” he pants. 

With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud gasp, gripping his hand hard. Even after he helps you ride out your orgasm, he doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. You bite your lip to stifle yourself as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting your insides with his seed.

You catch your breath with Joel as he begins to go soft inside you. You feel empty when he pulls out of you, craving the weight of his hand on yours after he lets go. As your breathing slows, turn around to face Joel. His dominant, taunting demeanor is gone and he helps you back into your clothes, then examines the bandage on your hand. He frowns when he sees he’s crumpled it and dampened it with his sweat. “Hang on,” he murmurs, quickly reaching for more gauze to rewrap it. 

You touch his shoulder, “Just– let’s wrap it again at home. It’s just gonna get ruined again.”

“No, I promise I’m not gonna clean it again, I just wanna–” Joel stops talking when you reach for his hand. He looks at where his hand connects with yours, then looks at you. “Okay,” he says. He stares at you intently, as if waiting for you to say more. You look like you want to.

Hand in Joel’s, you walk together out of the mall. The horseback ride home is quiet. You hug Joel tightly, and Joel savors the warmth of your cheek on his back again.

“Joel?” you ask. 

“Yeah, hon.”

“You’re sure you don’t wanna hear my impression?”

“I’m sure,” Joel says, but you can hear the smile in his voice. 

as always, i appreciate all of my readers. please please please leave a comment/reblog/send an ask if you enjoyed, your comments really do mean the world and keep me going <3

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[gojocumdumpster]

Spending the day with them Ohma,raian,agito, kaolan

(Not ohma for the people who didn’t know) ⬇️

Spending the day with Ohma would be like:

Well, at first at first you thought he wasn’t going to spend time with you since he always busy training that’s until you heard. “Get up and put some clothes on”

He ends up taking you to an all you can eat buffet the whole table was full of plates I wonder why. You were still on your 1st plate while he was on his 100 3rd plate.

That’s until he went to the dessert bar and saw the ice cream machine. It was about 9inches long and was leaning to the side. (woah pause😭)

Atleast 20 people stared at you guys mostly ohma like y’all haven’t ate in years.

After that he takes you to his personal gym and you guys work out together.

He studies you a lot when you’re not looking but as soon as you look at him he continues with what he was doing.

He’ll even let you sit on his back while he does push-ups.

You guys left and went home to take a shower Ohma wanted to take a shower with you horny ass

he scrubs your back helps you wash your hair and in return you do the same with him

probably got soap in your eye cause of him

You guys putting on matching Pjs and watch Netflix and sleep….

Raian

Bakugo 2.0 however you spell his name

Spend the day with Raian would be like:

You literally had to beg him to stop training and spend the day with you selfish ass he had a attitude about it but gave in cause he loves you. I think..

He wanted to ask if you wanted to workout with him but he could tell what the answer was gonna be no just by the deadly side eye you gave him 👀

He ends up taking you to a park you guys rode those boats you have to peddle he said “leave it to me”.

Next thing you know you almost got whiplashed from how fast we was peddling

On the trail walk/ride he kept complaining about the bugs

He was at least 2 miles ahead of you trying to run from the mosquitoes

He kept scaring children with that gremlin face

At the end you guys went home showered and he was knocked out.

Agito hot dilf

Spending the day with Agito would be like:

Now this giant teddy bear may look like he acts like Raian but he’s really not well not with his s/o

You guys end up going to the movies together to watch a horror film

He wore decent clothing and you guys headed out you guys went to watch The new Scream movie which you’re scared of. No worries the dilf is here!

You guys got your drinks and popcorn and went to find your seat it was a tight squeeze for Agito cause he’s to thick.

Thank god y’all sat up high cause he would’ve blocked a lot of people. Last time there someone had a problem and I'm sure the Scream movie came to life..

He didn’t think to much of the movie as he thought of it as a joke.

He had a straight face the whole time and was side eyeing you like “What the hell are you doing”

You griped on his biceps as jumpscares were coming.

He was ready to go the moment he saw someone’s popcorn flying. It took so much for him to not grab you and leave.

You asked him if the movie was good and he was looking at you like:

You guys went home showered and cuddled.

Kaolan

Spending the day with Kaolan would be like:

He’s probably the best out them maybe

He texted you ahead of time to get ready

Kaolan🫶🏾: Hey honey, get ready at 7:30pm I want to take you somewhere.

Y/n: Okay!!!!

You were done and ready and looked fabulous he had just texted you that he was outside.

You speed walked out the door and saw a Limo with him holding the door. I wish that was me😤

He took you to a fancy restaurant 5 stars he wanted to take your here because it served some of his home country food.

You guys walked in and you expected to be out there but he has made reservations for a private dinner.

You guys already ordered food and it had just came out after a few minutes. He ordered his favorite meal and you ordered Pad Thai noodles. The bill was at least $432

You guys enjoy your night out and head home to bathe each other and watch TV shows…

[asterias-record-shop]

BINGO: friends to lovers w/tasm!peter parker

Prompt 17: "Do you think they heard us?" "Yes. We did."

reader & peter having a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing going on for a while/just so much pinning with stolen stares, hugs that last too long, the other boiling with jealousy but never saying anything because it’s not their place.

then it all just comes to a breaking point where one of them is acting off/distance and they have a fight about it until they confess to the other that they’re in love with the other and it hurts too much to be around them and that leads to smut 🫶🏽

—𓆩[will they, won't they]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, angst, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.3K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter had a more… complicated friendship. Best friends since childhood and ever since then, you both have always danced around your feelings. You finally decide to drop your feelings for your best friend after he starts spending more time with Gwen Stacy, and decided to go out on a date with one of the jocks from school and pull away from Peter, unbeknownst to you him, Gwen, and some more of your best friends are planning a giant date proposal for you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - I gave y’all some extra friends cuz y’all don’t have enough- || you definitely know about him being Spider-Man, and your friend group || you have glasses now! (During studying) || he accidentally blows you off for Gwen but with good reason! || cursing and foul language || you think Peter likes Gwen so maybe a little bit of angst but it’s resolved quickly || yeah no maybe a bit more than a little bit of angst- || made up OC that’s a jock and you go out with him smut warnings: sex with people in the same house as you, Peter is a fucking munch no one can change my mind, more experienced reader x less experienced Peter, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, creampie 

“So, we have her favorite flowers booked, we have her favorite food, anything else?” Gwen looks up from her clipboard that was meant to make her look more professional. She and Carter, a guy that pushed his way into your friend group, along with Alia and Jamison, all had a bet on when the hell this was going to happen.

Gwen placed two weeks, and Alia was already out because she said three days, while Carter said one week and Jamison a week and a half. The winner would have your child named after them; it was a good bet.

“Do we have her favorite songs lined up?” Peter was chewing on his thumb, anxiously walking back and forth on the roof of his apartment. “And-”

“Peter, you’re overreacting so much,” Gwen says laughing, holding up her clipboard. “I already have everything ready! You have no need to worry about anything, I got the flowers, the lights, the food, everything! It’s going to be perfect.” She looks down at her watch, nodding. “Now, it’s almost eight-”

Peter quickly looks down at his phone, gasping. “Holy shit, I was supposed to meet Y/N at seven for movie night! I’ll see you later, Gwen, thank you!”

He grabs his bag, jumping off the roof and shooting a web out to catch him.

“Go get her bug boy!” Gwen yells as Alia comes behind her, biting into one of your favorite candy bars.

“You think they’ll fuck?”

“I highly doubt it.”

It didn’t take Peter long to get to the fire escape of your apartment, settling himself onto the railing to watch your scrunched face stare down at a physics worksheet. You mumbled softly, flipping through your notes and pushing up your glasses before slamming your head down onto your desk.

It makes Peter wince as you groan loudly, quickly pushing up your window making you look back with a gasp. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late, I was with Gwen-”

“Peter, what are you doing here?!” You whisper yelled, quickly standing and pushing against his chest. “You need to leave! Now!”

“What? Why?” He looked down at his suit, more specifically where your hands were on his chest before he heard more footsteps. “Is someone here?”

“Peter, leave! Now!” You pushed him out the window, quickly closing and locking it before shutting the curtains.

“I brought us some snacks!” A voice says, Peter peeking into your room in the slight exposition of the curtains. “So, strawberries or cheese? Or both, like in Ratatouille?”

You giggle, walking toward the form, Peter almost growling when he saw Henry’s pretty face and blond hair. “You know, strawberries and cheese aren’t that bad. I’ve tried it before.”

“Oh yeah?” Henry laughs. “How about we watch Ratatouille and reminisce instead of doing physics?”

You laugh. “Oh, I wish. What about we get some work done and then we watch Ratatouille?”

Henry nods, plopping onto your bed in the same space Peter always did making his fists clench. “I’ve never been good at physics.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you spin your chair around. “Me either.”

He hummed, rubbing his chin. “What about your friend? Parker? He’s good at physics, isn’t he?”

Your eyes flicker toward the window, Peter raising a brow as he nods his head in agreement. “His name is Peter,” you stand, quickly shutting the curtain correctly. “And yes, he is sickeningly good at physics.”

“Why don’t we call him up?” Henry opens his binder, humming. “I’m sure he could help.”

Your brow ruffled when the doorbell rings, quickly standing. “Who could that be?”

“Let’s hope it’s Peter,” Henry laughs as he follows behind you, your pretty apartment organized chaos.

When you open your door, your face falls when you see Peter in his clothes, obviously messy like he changed coming down the stairs (which he did, thank you), a smile on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Peter!” Henry says, smiling. “You’re here!”

“I am,” Peter tries not to make his voice sound completely and utterly annoyed. “Got a sense that someone might need my physics powers.”

“Well, your sense was wrong,” you said immediately, Henry laughing.

“No, it was right. It really was.”

“You gonna let me in?” Peter asks as you glared up at him.

“Henry, I think it might be best if we continue this another day. You have to be home by eight thirty anyways, right?” You look back at the blonde boy who looked down at his very expensive watch.

“Oh, where did the time go! Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” He starts walking toward your room, Peter taking that as his chance to sneak in.

“Yes!” You yelled back, shoving Peter who barely budged thanks to his new abilities. “Tomorrow night sounds good!”

Henry comes walking back out, bag over his shoulder. “Perfect,” he smiles at Peter. “Maybe I’ll see you before then, Parker! Hopefully we can get some physics done, my mom is making pot roast that is literally to die for so I need to get back.”

“Ooo, pot roast,” Peter says all posh like Henry does, and you roll your eyes instead of laughing like you normally would. “That sounds so good. You can’t miss that, Henry.”

“Right!” Henry laughs, turning to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “That sounds great, Henry,” you say as he slowly walks out, slowly closing the door before Henry quickly puts his hand between the door and the frame. “Yes?”

“I uhm… have a good night, Y/N.”

You inhale shakily, smiling. “You… you too, Henry.” Slowly, you close the door and lock it before turning around, jumping when you see Peter. “Peter!”

“What’s going on tomorrow night?”

You scoffed. “Henry’s taking me out on a date.”

Peter froze, quickly fixing his glasses as though his vision would affect his hearing. “What?”

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. He’s taking me out tomorrow night to a restaurant his father owns.”

Peter shakes his head. “I… we have plans tomorrow night, Y/N.” Tomorrow was the night, you couldn’t not come on the night.

You shake your head back, crossing your arms. “Well, I thought you’d be late to that like you were today.”

Peter scoffs, rubbing his chin. “I was late one time, Y/N! You know I always come!”

You put your finger out, wiggling it toward him. “No! No, it wasn’t one time! It’s been every day for the past three weeks, you’re late to class and you say, ‘Sorry Y/N, I was with Gwen’, or study halls, ‘Sorry Y/N, I got caught up with Gwen’, or something with Gwen fucking Stacy! If want to hang out with her, you hand out with her, but don’t make plans with me whenever you’re going to be late or you don’t fucking show up at all!”

He didn’t stand you up that many times, did he? He goes through all of them, wincing slightly. Maybe he had stood you up a lot.

The room was silent as you inhaled shakily, rubbing your face with your palms. “Just… I need to finish my homework. You wasted my time arguing with me about something I’ve told you about for the past week.”

Peter’s face scrunches. “You haven’t told me about going on a fucking date with Henry fucking Ford.”

“His name is Henry Baltimore!” You yelled at him once again, covering your mouth. You had yelled more at Peter tonight more than you ever had before. “You would know that if you would read your fucking texts. Now, I need you to leave before I say something I can’t take back.”

Peter shakes his head, quickly coming in front of you. “No, Y/N, please. Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t go, don’t go out with him tomorrow night. I need to tell you something important.”

You shake your head, inhaling shakily as you press your face into your hands to hide your teary eyes from him. What was he going to tell you, that he and Gwen were dating?

“Peter, I don’t want to see you, please leave.”

He shakes his head, holding your shoulders. “No, I’m not leaving, I’m not-”

You shoved him, gasping in air to hold back your tears. “Peter, get the fuck out!” He inhaled deeply as you wipe at your cheeks, sniffling. “Y/N-”

“Peter, I’m not going to tell you again. Get out.”

Slowly, Peter walks toward the door as you stand there, arms cradling your own body as you try to control your breathing. He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door, looking back at you as you breathed shakily. “Y/N,” he says softly, but you shake your head, refusing to look back at him. “I just… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, grabbing the blanket from the couch. “Lock the door on your way out, and leave the key under the door.”

Your heart aches as he does exactly what you said, but what else could he do? You wanted him to do one thing but told him another, how could he know what you wanted him to do?

Peter kneels down slowly, slipping the key back under your apartment door before that special tingle comes in. “What do you want?”

He slowly stood and turned around, sighing when he saw Henry. “Oh uhm… I-I left my charger.”

Peter nods slightly, holding back a scoff. How the hell do you forget a charger? “Right.”

“Peter?” Henry says as he starts to walk away, pausing. “You… you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

The one time the stereotypical jock had to be smart, the one fucking time.

“You just… you treat her right and I won’t kill you.”

You were going to kill Peter Parker. Henry called you an hour before your date after you spent hours getting ready, hoping to have the pretty dress you spent good fucking money on ripped off at most three hours into the date and the makeup you spent hours on ruined by the morning.

But no, Peter, Peter fucking Parker bad to ruin it all — all of it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really think you should talk to Parker before you go on a date with me. If nothing changes, I’m here.”

Changes? What the fuck was going to change?

You banged on the door, your knuckles burning as you looked down at the pink dress dotted with hand sewed strawberries all over, especially on the pink area of the corset. You did not spend almost two hundred dollars on a dress (with matching lingerie) to not have it ripped off.

When Gwen opened the door, she gasped. “You’re here!” She looked down at her watch. “And early! Why aren’t you on the roof-”

“Where is he?”

Gwen pauses when she hears your voice, slowly letting you inside as you stomped toward his room, unknowingly following the path of red rose petals.

“Hey Y/N- Y/N?!” Carter was shocked to see you before you opened Peter’s door, looking around before groaning and slamming the door.

“Peter! I know you’re in here! What the hell did you do, Henry called and canceled on me!”

You continue to turn around, gasping when you see him kneeling down in front of you. This was not happening.

“What… what are you doing?”

“We-Well uhm,” he quickly stands, fixing his suit. Peter never wore a suit. “That was probably too formal, the kneeling, but uhm-”

“Peter,” you say finally, inhaling. “Hurry up and say what you were going to say.”

He slips his hand into his pocket, slowly taking out a velvet box. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry it took me so long, I am, I just wanted it to be perfect.” He opened it slowly, a thin silver band with a diamond in the center making you gasp. “It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. You said, you said you always wanted a promise ring and-”

“Hurry up, Peter!” You almost screeched, quickly covering your mouth as he smiled, his pretty whiskey eyes looking up at you.

“Well, do you want me to kneel down or-”

You cupped his face, quickly pulling him down to kiss you, humming as his hands quickly found their place at your hips. You could feel the pressure of the small box, slowly stepping back as he follows obediently, groaning against your lips before the back of your knees bump against his mattress. Slowly, he pulls away just enough to press the velvet box into your hand.

His cheeks are red as he brushes his nose against yours, humming. “Is that a yes?”

You nodded, gasping as he slipped the ring onto your finger before setting down the box. He inhaled shakily as he lifted your hand to press against his lips. “I hope this is okay. We’ve been friends for years and-”

“Dammit, just shut up, Peter.”

You pulled him down to kiss you making him rush to put his own ring on push you down against the bed, groaning as his fingers rub against the satin ribbon keeping your dress on your body. “H-How the hell do you undo this-”

“Just pull it, you need to untie it,” you giggled, sitting up just enough for him to tug on the string and press kisses to your skin. “Peter, Peter fuck-”

“I know, honey, I can feel you,” he whispered, body already shaking. He could feel every little thing you did, he could hear every sharp breath you took as his fingers trail over your back and finally untie your dress and the cold hits your skin. “I can feel everything you do.”

Most of all, he could feel how aroused you were. He could smell it, as weird as that sounded, a sweet aroma filling his nose as he kissed into your neck and the small sparks that traveled through his fingers.

He pulls it down to your waist, hissing as you lift your hips into his just enough so he can pull it down your body, but the feeling of your body so close to his makes his eyes roll back. Your hands start to tug on his blazer before he can even finish pulling down your dress, pulling away from his lips to let out a soft whine.

“Peter, please, please-”

“I know honey, I know,” he whispers back, pulling off his blazer before he is able to focus on your body. You didn’t have a bra on, of course you didn’t because your top was a corset, but the amount of exposed skin made him stop. “Holy shit.”

“Peter, you have way too much clothes on.”

He nods frantically, quickly obeying your not so subtle command, unbuttoning his shirt before you pull him down for another kiss, humming against his lips. Your fingers push into his slacks, a whine leaving his mouth as you pull out his shirt to finish taking it off, his hands going behind his back to grab the cuffs and pull it off.

The kisses were hot, your tongue pushed into his mouth as he groaned loudly, his hands cupping your face as your own press along his chest. He pulled away just a bit for breath, letting his eyes trail along your body before your hands pressed against his chest, stroking along all of his scars.

You were the one who healed the wounds before the scars, it was only right you were the one who kissed them afterwards. With that thought, your lips pressed to the waxy skin as his hands started to undo his belt, thankful for the fact he hadn’t been able to put on his shoes.

Oh but yours, the pretty white platform heels that had to have been more than four inches and the Velcro strap around your ankles really made him want to put them around his waist, or over his shoulders — whichever came first.

“Peter?” You whisper, his eyes quickly flashing to yours. You gasped, his pupils wide as he stared at you, his hands shaky. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” he whispers, shaking his head as he pulls his pants and boxers off, inhaling deeply. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. It’s my first time after… you know, and I swear I can feel everything.”

“Everything?” You swallow, gasping as your cunt clenched around nothing, his eyes rolling back as he slowly begins to pump his cock.

“Everything.”

You shiver as he slowly pressed his head against your pretty lace underwear, the pink fabric embellished with strawberries embroidered onto it. He inhaled as he watched the beads of precum spread across the lace, groaning loudly.

This couldn’t have been for Henry, no. This was for him and him only, he was going to make sure of it.

“This was for that preppy mother fucker?” He almost growls, leaning down to slowly slip the panties down your thighs. He certainly would have kept them on if he wasn’t planning on absolutely devouring you.

“Peter, h-he’s not-”

“Important?” Peter suggests, kissing against your plush thighs before groaning against your skin. “Gonna make you forget his fucking name.”

Your eyes rolled back as he slowly slipped his fingers down your slit, smearing your wetness up to your clit as your eyes rolled back, gasping as his fingers firmly rub circles onto your sensitive bud. It makes you whine as he gets faster, watching as it starts to get swollen and puffy.

He groaned, leaning down to press open mouth kisses to your lower lips, sucking and tugging with his teeth as his fingers rubbed faster against your clit. He could feel you squirming under him, hands tugging his hair as you whined loudly. “Peter, Peter please-”

“Please what? Hm?” He teased you, smiling as your hips buckled. “What do you want?”

You whined loudly, the sound making the hairs on his neck stick up as he groaned into your cunt. “I-Inside, please inside-”

He hummed, his fingers slowly teasing around the tight ring of muscle. “You want what inside? What, hm?”

“Y-You, any of you, all of you!” Your voice is loud, eyes rolling back as he slowly pushes in a finger. You moaned loudly, the feeling almost foreign because you haven’t had sex or touched yourself in a long time. “Fuck!”

His finger is long and thick, curling inside of you and he could feel that tough part inside of you. He stroked it, watching as your eyes rolled back and he started to thrust his finger, pulling in and out joint by joint before pushing in until his knuckles pressed against your wet cunt. You screamed out, whining as your hips rode his digits.

“You’re so desperate,” he whispers, lips latching onto your clit and sucking loudly. He could feel your nails digging into his scalp with another whine. “What do you want, hm? Another one?”

He watched you nod, hips bucking. “Yes. Yes, I want another one, please!”

Slowly, he pushed another in, watching as you whined loudly. He could feel your body spark in slight pain and discomfort, so he lets them stay still for a minute as you panted softly. “You okay?”

You nod, humming as you slowly move a hand to his cheek. “I’m perfect, Peter. More than perfect.” He smiled, slowly thrusting his fingers to hear a mewl fall from your lips. “Fuck!”

He laughs at the pretty curse falling from your mouth, something too foul and disgusting dripping from your pretty lips humoring him. “Don’t be rude now,” he says immediately, his other hand firmly rubbing against your puffy clit. “I won’t be so nice if you start getting mouthy on me.”

You shake your head. “I won’t, I’m sorry, please please-”

He starts to thrust his fingers, eyes rolling back as he stares at your scrunched up face covered in makeup. As much as he hated the thought of ruining your pretty mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow with painted strawberries on it, he wanted nothing more than to ruin it.

He pushed your clit between his fingers, sucking hard as you squirmed before he moved his hand just a bit to press against your pelvis. “Behave, bug.”

The nickname made you whine, your hand continuing to tug on his hair as he pressed firm kissed down your slit, thrusting his fingers in and out of you as the other rubbed firm circles into your clit and your walls clamping and clenching around his digits made him moan out and rut his hips into the bed.

“You want another, darling? Hm? I think you’re going to need it for me, honey, truly.”

You nodded, gasping as he slowly pushed another one in and thrusts his fingers slowly, watching your body writhe under him. He inhaled sharply at the feeling, groaning out as he kissed against your leaking cunt. Your hips buck up into his fingers, whines falling from your lips before shaking your head. “Peter, Peter! Peter, I want you- please. Please, need you now-”

He laughs. “What, you don’t want me to finish stretching you out? You just want to feel my cock?”

You nodded, tugging his head back. “Yes. Yes, yes please!”

Slowly, he pulled but his fingers, sucking and kissing against your entrance before pushing his fingers into his mouth. “You just want to be stretched out by me, don’t you?”

You nodded, gasping as he sat up and kneeled over your body. He takes his cock that was leaking precum drip out steadily as he pumped himself and watched it slowly spurt onto your cunt. It makes you whine as he slathers it around with his tip, pushing it down your slit before pushing his head into your cunt.

He watched your eyes roll back, a groan falling from his lips before he ruts his hips deeper into you. You whine, hands quickly rubbing against his back before your nails dig into his skin. He let out a shaky moan, groaning loudly as he pressed a kiss to your head. “Fucking hell, darling, you’re so tight. So, so tight.”

You squirm. “Feels good, feels so good,” you say, gasping as he starts to thrust, whining loudly. “Oh! Holy shit, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

He groaned into your neck, cursing as he held himself up by his hands and rolled his hips. “Fuck, fuck baby, barely been in for a minute and I’m already going to cum. You’re so fucking tight around me, I can barely breathe.”

You nod repeatedly, your head shaking as you pull him lower. “Please, please, inside. Don’t pull out, I don’t want you to pull out.”

His eyes rolled back as he choked, your walls tight as he started to thrust harder and harder, the bed slamming into the wall. Your nails scratch against his back, sobs of pleasure falling from your lips as his cock drags against your walls and hits that spot inside of you that makes your body shake. Your hips almost instinctively rolled into his own, desperate for more before he pulled your legs around him, the cold faux leather and your heavy platforms settling against his lower back.

“Fuck, fuck baby,” he whispers, almost growling as his thrusts get harder and unhinged, your body bouncing withe every test. “Fucking hell!”

You moaned his name over and over, the only thing calling from your mouth Peter, Peter, Peter… like a mantra, whines most likely interrupting every syllable. He could feel every twitch of your fingers, every clench of your cunt, every breath against his neck as he pressed kisses to your shoulder.

He dragged his tongue along your skin, teasing his teeth against you before sucking. He could feel your chest against his, your stuttering breath before you pulled him up for a kiss and your fingers shakily ran through his hair. He almost whimpered, hips moving faster before you clamp down on him with a loud moan and a creamy ring enveloping his cock.

His hips stutter, loud moans falling from your lips before he inhales deeply and thrusts into you as deep as he could, screaming out your name as he comes inside.

His eyes roll back, broken moans leaving his lips as you breathe shakily, hands rubbing against his cheeks. “It took you long enough.”

Peter smiles. “Yeah, it did, didn’t it? You know… I was always with Gwen because she and the rest of them were helping me plan this.”

You gasped, looking back. “You think they heard?”

“Yes! Yes, we did! Everything! The cumshot too!”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[thatringboy]

A Body Built for an Undeserving Soul, A Boothill Theory

My definitely sober thoughts while grinding for the eventual Ruan Mei rerun and writing some robinhill have led me to a startling train of thought. I’ll do my best to sound sane as I say this, but the 18 minute discord voice memo I originally made is definitely anything but. Spoilers for Boothill’s backstory, character stories, and other lore, and no I’m not really gonna be citing things because it’s 3 in the morning and I’m high. If at any point I say something that isn’t really supported by canon, please be nice i’m a little silly boy

Anyways

I don’t think Boothill is a Pathstrider.

Let me cook, please. Here’s my reasons why:

The way he talks about Aeons and Paths

The way his body is designed

And 3.

Enjoy the madness below the cut

So, there’s not really a proper way to word any of this without it being an ADHD word vomit. Bear with me. Please.

Penacony has been a fantastic update for those of us waiting for worldbuilding. We’ve learned a LOT about the many factions in the cosmos, the true nature of the IPC, the powers of the Aeons, and that the Paths are tangible things in the universe. The Luofu arc opened up a bit about this, but since it was so focused on The Hunt and The Abundance and The Permanence, we sort of fell back into the same story beats as the Herta Station arc. Either way, Penacony has been amazing for little lore bugs like me.

So what does this have to do with the wild claim that Boothill somehow isn’t a Pathstrider?

Let’s touch some grass for a minute and consider our places in the irl universe. Hi, I’m Perseus, a young transmasculine white adult guy from South Texas who grew up reading too many Rick Riordan books and now has a complicated relationship with both the christian god and the greek gods. It’s an autism special interest of mine to learn about the greek pantheon and while I don’t know everything about it, I’m a silly little guy and can recite fun facts about dozens of gods. I can also recite fun facts about the christian bible and christian mythology because I was forced to study christianity when I was younger. Nice to meet y’all. Now, when I, Perseus, talk to people about the various religions I know a thing or two about, I infodump. A lot. I think I once ranted about Dionysus for 20 minutes before my sister told me to shut up. It happens.

Now focus back in on the important topic: the fictional cyborg with jiggle physics. I’m working purely on memory, but I’m pretty sure when he first meets Dan Heng and Pom-Pom, he does go on a spiel about the Aeons and Paths as he tries to prove his identity as a Galaxy Ranger and Acheron’s identity as Not a Galaxy Ranger. The way he describes The Hunt, The Nihility, Emanators, and Paths, it all just sounded… i don’t know, canned? It came across as very emotionally disconnected, even as he talked about The Hunt, but he was saying all the right words. Like someone who studied a religion but isn’t actually a part of the religion. 

On its own, this means absolutely nothing besides just reminding us of his home planet’s hostile takeover by Qlipoth-worshiping IPC workers. If you haven’t seen the post yet, I really recommend reading the So, Honkai: Star Rail made a cyborg cowboy... an INDIGENOUS cyborg cowboy. post by @ahworm I’ll link it here, please check it out because it recontextualized a lot of how I viewed Boothill’s actions and mannerisms

So the way Boothill talks about the Path he should be a Pathstrider of sounds more like an encyclopedia than a follower. Now, maybe this can be explained by the fact that Galaxy Rangers aren’t the most zealous bunch, especially when standing next to the Xianzhou Alliance who worship Lan as a deity more than The Hunt itself. The Galaxy rangers are the opposite, they are hunters first and last regardless of what Lan in THEIR “greatness” does.

But if Boothill is just a normal Galaxy ranger (whatever that means), then how does he recognize the Jade Abacus of Allying Oath instantaneously? Dan Heng’s barely put the damn thing on the table and Boothill’s already jaw on the floor amazed. One could make the argument that, well, Boothill’s a well-traveled guy, of course he’d know the most valuable artifact to his Path. To that, I say: there’s more to it.

Boothill’s main accusation against Acheron in the beginning is, what? “An Emanator that shouldn’t exist.” He talks about The Nihility and Device IX the same way he talks about The Hunt; learned and detached in an agnostic way. He’s aware these are real concepts and beings, he’s crossed paths with an Emanator of Elation before so he can’t deny the existence of literal gods in the universe

We also know that it’s canon in the star rail universe that there are planets who haven’t heard of the Aeons before, like Sigonia - Aventurine’s planet. Instead of Aeons, we know the Avgins worshiped the goddess Giathra Triclops. I’ve seen the argument that Giathra is just another name for Xipe since THEY have three faces, but Aventurine’s flashbacks are very clear in showing that the worship of Giathra was very different from the worship of Aeons. We don’t know much about Aeragan-Epharshel, but from how the IPC described the indigenous people as needing civilization and other disgusting things (not to mention how they forced a synesthesia beacon into boothill when he was maybe like a teenager? And then his brain nearly broke from the influx of information?), I think it’s safe to say that the tribes of Aeragan-Epharshel also didn’t follow any specific Aeon.

But Aventurine is now a Pathstrider of Preservation, so why can’t Boothill be a Hunter Pathstrider too? Well, dear reader, allow me to bash my head against the wall trying to form words. Aventurine doesn’t believe anything about the sovereignty of The Preservation, just like the rest of the Stonehearts. He has his agenda, and if he has to play Preservation to do so, then he will. I think Boothill is the same, which is also why I can’t wait to see what happens in the upcoming quests with the two of them in the same room. That being said, Aventurine’s Preservation powers only come from his Cornerstone, crafted by an Emanator of Preservation. It’s how he and Topaz and Jade can all be such different people but all be classified as Pathstriders of Preservation, the sheer proximity to an Emanator’s powers canonically give them powers equivalent to actual Pathstriders.

So… what about Boothil? This leads me into my next point: Boothill’s cyborg body. By looking at his Character Story Part 3, we learn that Boothill VOLUNTARILY became a cyborg to become stronger. He literally shed the skin and name from an ancient, dead tongue to become a real loaded gun. His voice lines in combat talk about death a lot, his name literally is in reference to a graveyard - this man cannot wait to finally die in some sort of blaze of glory and vengeance. I say that with a little bit of sarcasm, but Boothill designed his body to be a weapon. 

In a lot of parts of the USA, it’s illegal to even insinuate that you have a firearm as that constitutes as the crime of  “armed robbery”, even if you don’t even have a gun. The threat alone is enough to warrant a higher penalty. But Boothill is already a great shot with a gun, why does he also need augmented teeth and crosshair eyes and hips that can fold his body into any sinful shape he needs? Because the threat alone is enough to give him power over his prey. Almost as if he’s compensating for a lack of magic godly powers. He needs to be able to keep up with even the strongest IPC goons, to pierce their Preservation shields with his bullets so that he can get closer and closer to Oswaldo Schneider.

But how can I prove that Boothill doesn’t have any Path magic? Well, let’s take a spin around his character model. What’s that thing sitting snugly against his exposed asscheek? His pistol? But that’s not weird, Perseus, most cowboys hold their guns there!

But what other playable character has their weapon on their actual model like him?

There are so many in-game cutscenes showing that, canonically, the Pathstriders summon their weapon from some sort of unseen storage or hammerspace. I like the term hammerspace, let’s use that. The playable Pathstriders all use hammerspace to easily summon their weapons. None of them actually carry their weapons on their model. Even Welt Yang has scenes of him summoning his herrscher cane (I’ve never played hi3 please forgive me for using incorrect terms) from his hammerspace. But not Boothill. He has his arm gun and he has his trusty 9 millimeter pistol on his little slutty hip. His idle animations involve reloading his weapons and putting them back on his person. No particle effects, no vanishing tricks, just a man sticking his tongue out to catch a bullet for a snack.

So what have we learned?

Boothill doesn’t have an emotional connection to his Path, it most likely is just the Path he figured met his needs and decided the philosophy was good enough

Boothill’s body is designed to perform specifically to kill Pathstriders, especially sturdier Pathstriders of The Preservation

Boothill either can’t or won’t use the same hammerspace the other canonical Pathstriders use

Each point by themself means nothing, or can be chalked up to unique character designs. But together? My intoxicated mind theorizes that Boothill is not a Pathstrider, merely a broken man trying to play the game according to the rules of the oppressors that colonized his planet and bombed his tribe into reservations and the dirt. Thank you for your time.

[s0ftb1tch12]

i may not be able to write out actual fanfic but i can put out ideas that scratch my brain and make me scream into the void

SO

being hazel callahan’s passenger princess and going on night drives when you both can’t sleep

going to zoos and aquariums where she rambles out fun facts on her favourite animals

staring at the chains around her neck so often she notices and buys you matching ones (same thing with rings, even better if they’re from brittany’s jewelry business)

movie marathon dates under a blanket fort complete with fairy lights, fluffy blankets, and snacks

fidgeting with each other’s hands while having long talks about whatever

i’m a FIRM believer in cocky!hazel after a few months of dating. once she knows you’ll stick with her for the long run, she’s not as nervous and acts more flirty (lingering touches, cheesier words, etc)

she may not be able to cook but she’ll surely try and learn your favorite foods (i think she’s more of a baker since baking is kinda like chemistry and we all know how she feels about explosive reactions)

on that note, i do believe she’s top of her class in chemistry or physics (thinking about her tutoring you in those subjects but those study dates eventually lead to makeout sessions)

that kiss scene towards the end of the movie and the fact that she wears rings really inspired me,,, y’all know where this is going probably (i NEED someone to write this desperately because i ain’t seen it anywhere and i’m down BAD)

literally any member of band!gf x loser!gf (i’m talking bassists, guitarists, drummers, lead singers)

those fics with cheerleader gf x loser gf !!! smth i haven’t seen with this trope yet is cheerleader gf surprising her with her strength, carrying her princess style

goth!gf x nerd!gf: her letting you do her eyeliner like yours, sitting in her lap as she lies down (like this 😩)

bimbo!gf x loser!gf: your average oblivious hyperfem with her awkward masc relationship, even better if bimbo!gf wears heels often so she’s taller than hazel who is at perfect height for forehead kisses (usually leaving lipstick marks that she doesn’t notice until pj basically screams and points at it)

hazel carrying a bunch of chapstick or hair ties in her backpack in case her gf forgets hers

thrifting dates because slow fashion is important

as a sanrio girlie, i think hazel would love pompompurin and his little hat

hazel acts kinda like a little golden retriever so she would definitely get along will with dogs but i like to think she’s a cat person, cats fucking LOVE her and she is always feeding the strays on her block

hazel is a tea girlie and yes she does have fun facts about them (chamomile became v important after her parents divorce)

hazel likes simulation games like stardew valley and role playing games like baldur’s gate (she spends hours making her character) (yes this is self indulgent because i love bg3)

she loves handmade gifts; make this baby a mug, crochet her a sweater, paint her a picture and she will melt

soooooo many trinkets on her shelves (god i wish we saw her room in the movie)

she def has a less common pet (reptiles, bugs, rodents [like ferrets])

a bird would be nice for hazel if i’m being honest, she talks to it everyday but especially after a bad day (like when pj dismisses whatever cool thing she wants to talk about at lunch and changes the topic by talking over her)

idk what else to say rn but best believe that my brain will rot again because the gay shit will not be going away any time soon

[centipedelightning]

Hobbies!

headcanons about what kind of hobbies i think some of the skeles have. this post includes undertale and underfell sans and papyrus. i want to smooch these guys so bad y’all.

| Undertale & Underfell || fluff |

Hobbies: you are here | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

words: 1045

Sans

Canonically it’s trombone, and he knows how to sew

He started learning how to sew pretty young (out of necessity) so he’s really good now. He made papyrus’s costume after all! He’s actually a pretty skilled seamstress and super super good at making barely visible, perfectly blended alterations to clothing. He’d be better at mending if he cared to, but he isn’t bad.

The trombone was probably in whatever the underground equivalent of his second year of high school.

Yes he was and still is a band kid sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

Other than in game canon, I see him doing origami. He found a box set of books (beginner, intermediate, and advanced) at the dump in great condition and decided to take it up.

He used to make a bunch of little characters and animals for babybones Papyrus to play with.

He makes so many paper stars. Like two of those really big mason jar fulls with a third actively being filled.

It became a bit of a coping mechanism to be able to pick up scraps of paper and make little things quickly and mindlessly. Not to mention the chance to make a wish

More than once he may or may not have used torn slips of blueprints and schematics for projects…. Oops

Papyrus

He’s so babygirl girliepop

He loves puzzles but that’s already covered by playing the game and this is not written to rehash the canon

So instead I will tell you about the million and one crafts he does (no I won't)

He so so crafty and creative so technically he does a lot of different things, but I see him loving making decor items. Stuff like rock painting and recycled garden decor. Yk those bottle cap flowers for your garden? Stuff like that.

His front garden is so cute because of all the stuff he put in it.

The rocks he paints are just random local forest and river stones. The paints are all natural and watershed safe. Ecological awareness queen.

He mostly does those dot patterns when and places them all around the garden and pathways. Sometimes he’ll do little faces or bugs to mix it up

ZUMBA omg

He’s such a Zumba girl you have no clue. He loves the fun danciness of it while still being a good workout. He’s very 90s fashion-wise so you know he’s in those brightly colored body suits.

He lovesss putting together and painting model figures. Kinda like dnd minis but I see him being more into put it together yourself robot sets (like Gundams or whatever they’re called)

Y’all he’s so down bad for sexy robots you can’t tell me he wouldn’t love Gundams. Just look at how he acts towards his action figures AND METTATON HIMSELF. He’s so tragic and so real tbh.

Red

He’s my artsy babygirl.

If you’ve read my headcanon post about him you’ll know.

He’s not very good, but he does do landscape paintings every now and then. Those times are more when he randomly decides to take a walk around a local park or something. He’s more interested in studying other artists’ work than doing it himself.

Onto an actual hobby: Whittling!

He discovered the hobby kinda on his own in the underground. Whenever he was forced to show up to his sentry station and couldn’t find a way to run off, he’d pick up sticks and cut them down to nothing with a pocket knife. Over time he started carving little shapes and figures into the sticks. He’d usually just make simple bone attacks or snow poffs. Sometimes if he found a bigger branch, he’d make replicas of some of the other royal guards or random machines.

Topside he makes so many animals. Like so many. His favorite things to make are birds. He has so many different types of whittled birds all over his room. There’s boxes in his closet overflowing with finished and half finished bird carvings. They’re also in the windows and you can see them walking past their house.

If he’s feeling fancy he’ll pull out the woodstain and give them a little depth to make the species more obvious.

He makes other animals too of course, but they’re usually gifts. He makes a bunch of forest animals for Frisk (their favorites are rabbits and deer).

He made an MTT carving Once when Edge was going through it and was increasingly stressed for like a month straight. Red is a bit of a hater so jacking anything MTT was like pulling teeth. You gotta do what you gotta do for the happiness of your siblings I'm afraid.

A lot of people see him working as a mechanic and I agree, but that’s his career and jobs can’t be hobbies so I’m not gonna go into depth.

Edge

Ok consider for a second: (silk) flower arranging

For one, I headcanon him working as a professional makeup artist on the surface so its not completely left field,

For two, I’m right and you know it.

He does it as casually as you can imagine Edge being casual. Mostly dining table centerpieces and hallways vases. He does silk flowers for places he doesn’t check as often (like hallways) but since he’s classy he dumps the extra G for the fancy fake flowers.

The real flowers are in foyers and on tables. He even takes the occasional flower arranging class in different disciplines to be able to have the skill to arrange any flower in any style.

Edge is such a granny so I think weaving would be reasonable too.

Originally he started out darning his clothes so they would last a few more months, but since he got topside he does a lot of more artsy woven pieces on those small lap sized looms.

He’s not too picky about the actual design; they’re usually classy and fancy and a bit pretentious like him but he’s not actually all that picky about it. He mostly makes scarves and wall hangs that he sells at the local farmers market and craft fairs.

All his friends do have specially designed and stunningly made scarves that he spent hours laboring away on. He gets to critical levels of happiness when he sees them wearing his hard work.

[justalovelyblackgf]

I’m back on my shit talking again! Anyways, I got some stuff to say about Lana Lang. That’s my good sis! She’s been through A LOT and I really like that she is tries to be kind, help others, and include people who aren’t really in her social circle. Not your typical popular girl/cheerleader trope that’s always bitchy and rude, but she’s definitely the girl-next-door. She’s also trying to find her own way in life while still grieving her parents. She’s also wise and I love her but…

SPOILERS ahead:

She has no good judgement of other people’s character even though she doesn’t want to be judged. Example: Tina from “X-Ray” BOTH Clark and Whitney were trying to tell her that Tina was a red flag and that she had it out for Lana. Lana was creeped out by Tina a little bit, but she brushed that off and ended up getting her ass chocked, knocked out and buried alive!! She could’ve been a goner but TY CLARK. 😍👏🏾 That shit was scary. I lowkey blame Whitney too because he could’ve done more.. because that’s YOUR GIRLFRIEND, but Whitney is another story. Another example is Lana’s stalker (I fg his name) the boy who turned into a bug from “Metamorphosis”. Lana, baby…if a gift box with no tag or label was placed on YOUR bed, chuck that shit out!! Idgad if it’s butterflies in there, that didn’t scare you a bit?? You also knew that dude had a creepy ass vibe and so did Whitney, but you still accepted to study with this boy at one point? Thank God something came up that she couldn’t make it, but STILL. What got me is that when dude pulled up in the stables and started walking towards her after THROWING HER BOYFRIEND LIKE A RAG DOLL , she’s just standing there and asking FKIN QUESTIONS! This girl almost got violated. TY AGAIN CLARK! 😘 I’m not trying to victim blame but these events are TWO EPISODES APART. Lana, imma you need to stay in the house for a little bit. How you go to school after almost dying twice?? WTH WAS NELL DOING? Pressed over a birthday party, but not cautious enough to want your niece be in your view after she almost got got? I hate when female characters are written to be pretty, kind, sweet, and got a 4.0 GPA, BUT NO COMMON SENSE OR DISCERNMENT. The 2000s were lit, but a mess. y’all can agree or disagree, this is just my opinion. I’m just yapping. anyways I’ll be back and I’ll be on Whitney’s ass and Lana’s denial of her feelings. I’ma keep streaming. 😘🫶🏾

Side note: Kristin is a baddie!

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 63 - I'll Cry if I Want To

You get drunk. Guess who comes lurking?

On AO3.

Getting shit-faced. That is what wine’s good for.

The night’s real pretty. Y’all are inside the grove, all the goblins’re fucking dead, and the druids ain’t gonna let…let fucking wargs or mean bears in here. So it’s safe. There’s a rock digging into your left ass cheek, and you cannot be fucked to do nothing about it. But you’re safe! So it’s fine.

You take another gulp. People say when you got enough alcohol, you don’t notice then taste no more, but those fuckers’re lying liars who fucking lie, and it still tastes like bitter…bitter piss.

Bitch burns, too.

“Shit is gross,” you say to nobody. “The fuck do people drink this?”

Probably cause it makes you warm. And vaguely floating. Your muscles seem to burn a lot more, but you’re still kinda happy. Not like, sing and flail around the living room happy, but happy enough the last…week? Ish? Whatever. The night is pretty. An owl hoots and squirrels run along branches. Bugs creak and hum and a crow in the trees above lets out a sleepy “crk.”

“Sorry!” you say. Realize you’re shouting. Whisper, “Sorry.”

Crows keep grudges, huh? You heard about that. Should let the little dude to back to sleep.

Probably shouldn’t be out in the woods by yourself?

Whatever.

Another gulp. Your whole face wrinkles.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” says a fucking rat man.

You turn. The woods spin a little, and you gotta blink before the two, pale silhouettes become one bastard man.

“’Sa party,” you say. “Errbody’s drinking.”

Why’s he here? You ain’t been gone long. Right? You’re pretty sure.

“How’s Lae’zel?” you say.

He winces. You’re shouting again.

You pitch your voice back down. “How’s Lae’zel?”

He gives you a look. It slides right on past you. “Jealous, dear?”

Your chest hurts again. Still for no fucking reason. “Pff. No. Just surprised how quick it was.”

For some reason, he pulls back in outrage (yeah! you recognize that one!). “Excuse me?”

“It ain’t nothing bad!” You only flail a little. Almost throw the wine bottle and then have to clutch it to your chest. Next to your soul flask. They clink through your shirt. “Just…y’know. ‘Fficient. You’re very efficient.”

He stands there like he’s trying to parse out what you’re saying. Did the potion wear off again? You gotta study more.

And who the fuck cares. You ain’t out here for him. You ain’t out here for nobody except to get shit-faced.

“Why are you out here alone?” rat bastard man says.

It probably ain’t supposed to be funny. Or maybe it just ain’t funny to him. Or anyone but you. But for you? You don’t drink, you don’t hookup, but you do plonk your ass down and get sloshed off a bottle and a half of wine all by your lonesome.

You want ice cream. You would literally kill a man for ice cream.

“If I didn’t know any better,” the bastard fuck boy says, “I’d say you look like you were trying to drink away your feelings.”

You squint up at him. White hair a silvery halo around his head in the moonlight. Eyes shining like new pennies in the low light. Fucker asks your opinion on who he ought to bang, and then finds you afterwards to…to fucking needle you?

You ain’t never been drunk like this. You flirted with getting mildly buzzed. Got borderline tipsy that once when Ryan fucking Meadows ghosted you and you ugly cried onto Sasha’s only clean work shirt.

None of that really processes, though. You ain’t really up to the whole “processing” thing right now; that barn door is long open and them hogs already sprinted for the hills.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, clicking the “k” at the end extra hard. “Pompous goddamn mess of a…of a man dick.”

He blinks like you just sprouted a beak and began reciting the entire works of Shakespeare in chicken.

And you ain’t done. “I got all the fucking reason to be off my damn ass out here, you shit. I lost my whole fucking family. Again. My whole fucking world. Fucking demons and brainworms and your ass. Maybe I just wanted to get drunk all by myself.”

You feel how dry your mouth is, and chug a few more swallows.

“Tastes like shit,” you say and try to scrape your tongue on your teeth. “Don’t know why anybody drinks it.”

Astarion still stands there. Fucking creepo. He’ll get all huffy and leave; toss you some snide bullshit before he goes. Jackass.

Only he don’t. He…lowers himself down. Not right next to you, but within kicking distance.

You think about doing just that.

“What even is that swill?” he says.

You look at the label. At the swirly-spiky letters all swooping together. Turn to him, with the most deadpan expression you can muster, and say, “What’s up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen, and I never fucking learned how to read.”

It is, hands down, the best joke you ever made in your whole life. You bend over laughing. You cry, laughing. Your bladder twinges and you keep laughing.

But then something happens. And you’re still laughing, and your eyes is watering, but now it hurts. Now you can’t breathe and nobody else is laughing with you cause they don’t get the joke and never will because your world is dead. Not like, actually. But they might as well be.

And like hell you want Astarion to fucking see that. So you shove the bottle at him and turn away like it’s just the giggles. Ain’t nothing to see here. Just a giggly drunk.

No one is ever gonna get your jokes. Ain’t nobody gonna know what “Wednesday my dudes” is. Or the helium balloons. Or the yoga grinch.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck.

Wine sloshes in the bottle. Astarion somehow gives an audible grimace.

“I think you grabbed the worst of them, darling. This is pure vinegar.”

You don’t turn around. You try to shove the goddamn sniffles back in your face. You don’t cry in front of other people. That shit ain’t safe. It’s how everybody knows how weak and stupid you are, and you are not gonna give this jackass that ammunition.

But it keeps coming. The smell of the red dirt after a hard rain. Homemade pecan custard pie. Uncle Randy was gonna take you to the Cherokee Days this fall. You was gonna try to learn basket weaving. The old style.

And you up and disappeared on him. On all of them.

Again.

Only this time, you ain’t coming back. This time, you ain’t gonna find no pink bicycle waiting for you cause you ain’t never gonna come crunching back over that red gravel. Never gonna smell them rich pecan trees, and bitch about Uncle Randy’s nasty cigarettes.

This is what you do, ain’t it? You disappear. You run off. You leave your family. All of your family, even the piece of shit parts over and over and over.

The tears coat your cheeks. You swipe at them furiously.

The wine sloshes again.

“Our gith friend had other plans for the evening,” Astarion says after…you don’t know.

You glance up and the sky spins above you. Fuck, you’re gonna make yourself sick you keep this up.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“That sucks,” you say.

He makes a startled, snorting sound. “There was none of that, actually. And that’s the problem.”

Ah. Ye-awp. That’d do it. That’d be why he’s here with you. His prospect failed, so now he’s come back to you. The easy one.

You sigh and finally lose your fight with gravity and flop onto your side. You wave vaguely over your shoulder.

“Go find one of them tieflings, then,” you say. “They can’t all be paired off.”

You’re tired, actually. Desperately so. The grass is nice and soft, and it’s safe out here, right?

Something shuffles. A rhythmic swish of grass. It’s the change in the air that alerts you. He don’t radiate body heat cause he don’t got none. But he is…surrounded by something a lot like a static field.

You look up to see him on all fours over you, peering down. Not like, over you, over you, it’s just his head. He wears no expression. Just…looks at you.

Have you ever seen him like this before?

“You didn’t seek any playmates of your own,” he says. And who the fuck talks like that?

“I got.” You start to lift your hand to waggle your remaining wine bottle, but your hands is empty. Ah fuck. “I had wine.”

“But you didn’t need to drink by yourself, darling. Both the cleric and the wizard would have gladly followed you out here.”

Well he certainly did.

Still, that blank face. Not, like, shuttered blank. Just…open. Or empty. It’s just his face.

…you should just tell him. All’ve this would be so easy if you just fucking told him. But he dumped you. He’s probably one of them guys who gets real weird when he finds out you’re thirty-five and are the sole provider of your own orgasms.

And it shouldn’t fucking matter.

“Didn’t want to,” you say. And do not elaborate.

Leaving the ball in his court. He fumbles with it. Stares at you like you just tossed him a soggy potato.

You’re kinda curious to see what he does with it.

His eyes narrow. You think he frowns. But it ain’t a pissy frown. It’s a thinking frown. And too late you remember that this bastard clues in on your plans real fast. That he seems to have a decent read on things (that ain’t trying to get into your pants).

Oh fuck.

“You haven’t dabbled with any of our merry band,” he says. Is that thoughtful? He sounds thoughtful. Shit on a goddamn cracker.

Um.

“And you saved me back at that goblin camp,” you say. And give yourself a mental high five, cause if he wants to delve into shit you don’t wanna talk about, take a reverse fucking uno card, jackass!

But he don’t dodge or parry, this time. He fucking leans in. You breathe in some of his own exhale and feel your cheeks begin to warm (through the booze).

“And what if I did?” he says, voice just shy of a whisper.

Oh. You didn’t expect that. Shit. What’s the play here? Uh.

“I’d thank you,” you say.

The sky spins above him. He’s the only steady thing in your vision.

“Is that all?” he says. Y’all are totally sharing lung air now, and his whisper gives you a goddamn ASMR shiver.

Except you’re drunk. And he’s way too close. And the shivers quiver down to your belly. The sky spins faster.

“What if I told you,” Astarion breathes, “that I’ve been thinking about our night together ceaselessly—”

Your stomach lurches.

Oh. That ain’t a shiver or a booze buzz or Astarion. You make some awful gagging sound, wrench up and to the side, and bring up about a bottle and a half of wine.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[melancholysway]

TMNT Headcanons: Japanese

For every installment of TMNT I’m providing why each turtle would speak/practice/appreciate Japanese, enjoy!

TMNT 2003

Leonardo

- speaking in Japanese strictly to speak formally to Splinter

- doesn’t curse

- nothing informal, iykyk

- I honestly think he would be great at writing kanji, I headcanon that Leonardo has the neatest handwriting out of his brothers

Raphael

- definetely uses that shit to degrade EVERYONE and EVERYTHING that pisses him off.

- You know that man gets mad at everything, even BUGS.

-Expect it to be very informal, likes to use it around Casey to confuse him

-can’t write it as good as Leo, but it’s legible & that’s what matters y’all

Donatello

- uses it to curse…but a little for the sake of speaking it just to speak it.

- Still working on informalities and formalities, but whatever

- not the best at writing it

-chicken scratch fr fr

- don’t ask him to write anything for you

-secretly uses duolingo, emotionally attached to the duo bird xoxo

Michelangelo

- uses it to curse

- can translate (when nobody asked,)

- also to joke around, observe:

Raph: *incoherent cursing in Japanese*

Mikey: so what he means to say is-

Leo: I know what he said!

TMNT 2007

Leonardo

-loves to describe different things using Japanese. Like, he'll compliment the weather or the way something looks

-liked to use it in South America to scare people into thinking it was a ghost

- sort of kind of writes it, not all the time, I think 2007!Leo would fuck up some Japanese poetry though <3

Raphael

-you guys remember his police radio right? Sometimes he'll go on there and talk in Japanese just to fuck with them.

-they dont know what he's saying

-observe the phrase Raph loves the most:

"クソ制服からゼリーを舐め続けろ、ろくでなし！"

-ill let you guys search that.

- uses it around Mikey to confuse him, but only for short phrases

-doesn’t write it as much, I headcanon he has the second best handwriting in this one since he’s canonically left handed, (I’m ambidextrous) but I speak for all left handed people that we dislike the lead stain on the side of our hands A LOT.

Donatello

-like raph, he uses it someitmes to fuck with the customers on the other line of his IT Tech Support job. If they're giving him a hard time, or being plain stupid, he'll start describing what to do to fix their problem in a different language.

-uses it freely, except one time he was helping a guy who was fluent in it.

-all it took was a "yokai" in response and Donnie was bamboozled.

-he doesn't use it as much on there anymore after that.

-definitely had one of those learn kanji books where you trace the symbols so he can better learn the linework

Michelangelo

-i like to think in this universe of tmnt, Mikey and Splinter watch J-dramas together

-its already mentioned that Splinter is into soaps, imagine him and Mikey watching a good old J-Drama from the 90s.

-Without english subtitles

-Splinter likes it that way, it's more dramatic

-has definitely taught some kids from the parties he hosted how to write pizza in Japanese

TMNT 2012

Leonardo

-okay, he definetely has watched Space Heroes in the Japanese Dub

-A1 voice acting, he loves it

-He sometimes like to say the orders in his head he says to his brothers in Japanese, to see if he still got his translating skills yk?

- would try and speak it around Karai to impress her no doubt

- called inanimate objects by their name in Japanese- couch: ソファー table: テーブル mutagen: 変異原, you get the gist yall

-while splinter was teaching them all how to read and write, Leo got his hands on some post-its and stuck them on every piece of furniture and machinery around the lair and wrote their name in kanji

-convinced that it works and don’t tell him otherwise

Donatello

-would 100% teach April a thing or two

-Master Splinter offered to teach April

-cue Donnie coming into the cut saying he could do it instead

-one on one study sessions with him and April, she enjoys it a lot

-donnie is actually a great teacher

-until he gets into the phonetic and semantics- ie; the science on why in the Japanese language they pronounce certain things the way they do

-she doesn't remember much about that part

- talks to himself while he’s working on an invention, sometimes to Timothy

-Timothy definitely doesn’t understand what the fuck he’s saying

Bayverse TMNT

Leonardo

-most likely uses it while on missions and fighting and in stealth mode, but mainly uses sign language during said stealth mode

-he practices his writing all the time, is really into line work and origins of the language/the evolution of it from ancient to modern Japanese

- enjoys reading it in his downtime, that man definitely has a stack of old Japanese literature that he likes to read!

Donatello

-Reddit man for the win

- anything about Japanese culture/aesthetics, he can answer!

-doesn’t speak it much, but he enjoys learning about the culture a lot!

-REALLY loves Japanese City Pop, probably bayverse Donnie’s favorite genre of music no doubt

-Donnie passes notes under the door of his lab to whoever’s passing by when he needs something, not a full sentence at all, just one word notes.

Observe:

After some loud knocking coming from the other side of the lab door, Leonardo comes to it as if it’s a habit at this point. He’s so used to Donnie not coming out his lab for hours, and he’s come accustomed to retrieving any item he needs from the “outside world.”

So when he sees the neatly placed slip of paper of “food!” written in chicken scratch kanji, he’s trudging his feet to the cupboard where Donnie’s secret stash of lab snacks are. Yes, a whole bin that’s labeled “lab snacks.” He reaches for the usual packet of strawberry frosted Pop-Tarts, noticing that there’s only one box left. He would have to ask April to get some again soon.

Leonardo wonders if he should attempt to toast them for Donnie, but as he glances at the silver toaster that Donnie fixed (again) a few nights ago, he thinks about how badly it would end and how pissed Donnie would get for having to fix it the 4th time this week. He picks out the aluminum wrapped strawberry Pop Tarts as is, placing the bin back in its secret place to where Mikey can’t see it.

Raphael

-likes the art aspect of Japanese culture, has the kanji for “family” etched on his shell

-since he knits in his past time, he makes small things that reflect the language or art in some way, whether it be making a cherry blossom rug for Splinter’s room, or making Mikey his requested mits for the winter time patrols with his name written in kanji

- like Donnie, he doesn’t verbally speak it, but incorporates it into his life in some way

-will engrave anything if his that he can with kanji

-since he can’t exactly get a tattoo, he reverts to engraving, hence his shell

Michelangelo

- 100% calls the pizza shop and orders in Japanese

-they don’t understand what he’s saying

-when the Hamato family is feeling some Japanese food, he hits them up and orders in Japanese, he gets all giddy when they respond back

Rise!TMNT

Leonardo

-him and Donnie argue in Japanese 110%

-he’s struggling with memorizing certain kanji symbols, so he’s using Rosetta Stone

-doesn’t like the Duo bird

-has a conspiracy theory that the Duo bird tracks his every move???

-will switch the TV to a J-Drama or put Splinter’s TV to the Japanese Dub version of whatever he’s watching just to fuck with him

-secretly enjoys said J-Dramas

-pretends to be leader and barks orders in Japanese

-yeah nobody listens to him

Donatello

-using his “platinum library card,” he loves those Japanese picture books of modern art

-DOES NOT lend them to Mikey, since he’s missing some now

-overdue library books because of this

-really enjoys those learn kanji trace workbooks, will trace the symbols with a purple colored pencil

-also, everything he writes will be in purple

-he doesn’t care what you think about that

Raphael

-calls animals by their name in Japanese

-cats, dogs, whatever! He’s naming them out loud

-had a pet parrot once that he got to speak back to him in Japanese

-he loved that

-until Leo got his parrot to curse in Japanese

-didn’t know how to make him stop, so he had to deal with that for a while

Michelangelo

-participates in changing the TV around to the Japanese Dub with Leo to mess with Splinter

-the cause of Donnie’s overdue books

-he really likes the art! Preferably the modern art

-100% prank calls people with Leo pretending to be foreign realtors & telling people they’re overdue on their car insurance

Masterlist

[spookiifi]

Beg For It (Archangel Gabriel/Reader)

Misleading title. This is both smut and humor? Idk what to label this fic as except the reader bugging Gabriel and eventually getting what they want. 

Both actually 

I think y’all will like it. Half of this was actually from a writing prompt a while back. It’s nothing explicit, trust me. Enjoy.

ao3 link!

You were starving, for anything really. The cabinets were empty and the cravings were real.

It was a Thursday, which meant your alternate boyfriend spent the night studying until you’d drag him to bed. It would be rude of you to interrupt Gabriel’s studies, literally playing with fire. But you two had known each other for several years now, so you might just get away with it.

You never took him for a scholar in the beginning, but now that you knew him well, he fit the definition of dark academia perfectly.

You planned accordingly. Once it was set in place, you slowly walked towards where he read a book on the couch. He faked ignoring you, merely paying attention to his journal and the stack of books next to him.

You even wore one of his favorite shirts to make it easier.

“Gabriel…” You crawled into his lap and sat on your knees, blocking out the lamp light next to him. “Gabe?”

Not the nicknames. It was one of his secret weaknesses. Damn it, not the names.

“What are you reading?”

He finally looked up at you when you pulled one of his arms away, kissing up it.

The alternate angel smirked and held your face. “Do you need something, lamb?”

Your lips barely touched his. “…Can we order Dominos?”

Gabriel’s seductive grin fell and he let go of your chin. “You’ve got to be KIDDING ME.”

“I’ll pay!”

He sighed, setting the book aside. “No, it’s fine. Come on.” He lifted you as if you weighed nothing and turned you into his lap.

You smiled victoriously. “Thank you, dear.”

--

Sometime later that night, you decided to try your luck again. When he wasn’t looking, you wrapped your arms around his chest from behind. “Enough-”

You gently toyed with the feathers on his wings and Gabriel froze in place.

“When I said I’d pay, I didn’t mean it just in money.”

He grabbed you by the back of your hoodie. “Get your sinning ass in our bedroom. Now.”

[dc418writes]

•Baby’s First Hanukkah•

✨Pairing✨: Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: A surprise visit leads to an emotional first day of Hanukkah (Operation:Rekindle addition)

⚠️: Ari (😏….y’all know lol), bit of angst in this one, fluff, mention of pregnancy

A/N🎙️: ✨Happy belated Hanukkah and Merry belated Christmas to those who celebrated! And Happy Holidays to everyone who doesn’t celebrate✨! I intended this to be out wayy earlier but here we are lol also I hope the explanation I have for Hanukkah is correct, but if there’s something I need to change please let me know☺️

*Disclaimer!: although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

“Not celebrating Christmas?,” your mother asks with arms crossed and a raised perfectly arched brow. Clearly not pleased with the words that just slipped past your lips.

“I didn’t say that. I just said we’re not gonna make it to the party this year. We wanna stay in and be with ourselves instead you know? We’ll still come Christmas Day.”

“Which is perfectly fine,” your father interjects before your mother could say anything more. “Right Tori?”

You knew this would happen. It’s exactly why you planned to call her the night before with your fool proof excuse of having caught a stomach bug and needing to stay in. No one would get hurt and you could freely spend that evening with Ari. Plus you wouldn’t have to dance around the actual reason you were skipping your family’s annual Christmas soirée.

However, your mother’s perfect timing and knack for pop up visits sent that down the river in a fiery pile of ashes.

“Well, could’ve fooled me with all the Hanukkah decorations and lack of Christmas tree,” she retorts waving her hand back and forth emphasizing the decorations you already set.

“I still have to put it up,” you answer focused on making sure the menorah was properly centered on the island. Or maybe it’d look better on the other table? “And, as I’ve told you before, Ari is Jewish. So these decorations are for him, and to make it feel like his place just as much as it is mine.”

“Mm..and where is Mr. Ari so he can help?”

“He’s still sleeping-,”

“And leaving you with all the work.” A humorless “tuh” huffs from Tori’s lungs as she turns towards your father. “Some boyfriend huh Howard?”

“He was up late studying,” you state finally facing your parents standing in your living room. Your facial muscles working overtime trying to keep your annoyance and anger hidden.

Unknown to you, Ari was wide awake on the other side of the wall in your bedroom hearing every word since your parents stepped over the threshold. Heartbeat already elevated on where this conversation would go.

“Look, I know you’re in love with him-,”

“Tori,” your father tries to warn, but you both knew nothing was stopping her.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to do everything together. Couples can have separate lives sweet girl.”

“I know, and we do-,”

“So it’s settled then! You’ll rightly be with us, you’re family, for Christmas as usual and he’ll be with his,” she smiles. “Which then leaves New Years for you two spending time together.”

Ari didn’t have to be out there to know you were growing frustrated. He could already see your jaw tick and nostrils slightly flare. Feel the heat radiate from your skin to the surrounding air.

“Ari’s my family too.”

“Yea you’re close, but-,”

“No, because he’s my husband,” you reveal in a flurry of words; exasperated with the idea of this conversation continuing.

“That’s sweet of you to claim him for your future-,”

“I’m not talking about the future mom, I mean now! We..we got married in July. At the courthouse.”

Unsurprisingly, there’s a long silence as your parents stand blinking at you. Their expressions unreadable and solely trained on you even when Ari quietly strides by your side in his college tee and sweats.

Your mother’s eyes eventually drift to your hand where your ring prettily sat on your finger. It was simple with just a single diamond that some would consider small, but it was all you needed. And you loved that ring because of the man that gave it to you.

“So that’s not a promise ring like you said,” she calmly states. Everyone around could feel her rising anger though.

“Well technically it is. Just for a..legally binding promise,” you nervously smile. It quickly falls at the sight of their disappointment. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“After five months it seems like you weren’t planning to tell us at all Y/N!”

Ari desperately wanted to come to your rescue and try to calm everyone, but what could he really say to help? He’s tried before when he felt your mother was being too tough on you while in school scolding you on what you should be doing and when. How you needed to be putting yourself out there in as many clubs and organizations as you could to network and possibly get an internship. Maybe even a job right out of college.

“She’s doing really well and always trying her best Mrs. Y/L/N,” he states standing across your mother on the opposite side of the kitchen island. However, she’s more concerned with perfecting the cake batter in front of her than to look him in the eyes. “I-I get you want the best for her-,”

“Exactly, I want the best for my daughter as any parent does their child,” she calmly replies - scarily calm in fact - lifting her head to finally meet his nervous blues. “Something I know you wouldn’t fully understand seeing as though you have no children. Correct?”

“Right..”

“So until that day comes- actually no, even if that day comes, I suggest you refrain from trying to suggest how I parent my daughter. Understood Ari?”

Nervously shifting from one foot to the other, he agrees with a quiet, “Understood,” and a slight tip of his head before his presence is ignored once again by your now sweetly humming mother.

Since then, he’s kept his interactions with her short - and she’s pretty much done the same on her end.

“I’ll be in the car,” she says after the most tense moment of silence any of them had ever experienced.

“Mom I’m sorry.” Your apology falls on deaf ears as she continues forward striding through the door and letting it slam with a loud thud that rattled the wall. “She hates me.”

“No she doesn’t,” your father sighs stepping close enough to give your shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Neither of us could ever hate you. We’re just hurt.”

A lone tear falls as he places a kiss to your temple and you feel your heart ache. You knew the consequences of your actions all those months ago as you stood hand in hand with Ari in front of the judge. Nothing could have prepared you for actually having to endure those consequences though.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of mom sweet pea. We’ll see you guys on Christmas,” he painfully smiles before making his way out the door as well.

But not without Ari close on his heels catching him halfway down the wooden steps outside your door.

“Mr. Y/L/N it’s my fault. I’m the one who brought up the idea of getting married,” Ari admits with guilt etched into his strong features. “Be more upset with me than you are with her.”

Your father can’t help the small smile that forms on his lips at your husband’s attempt to make things right. Since their first meeting, he could see how he’d gladly do whatever was needed to make you happy. How protective he was and completely enamored by everything that was you. It warmed his heart that you found someone who loved you possibly just as much as he did.

He realized then his prayer for you to be taken care of by a good man had been answered.

“Ari this is no one’s fault, alright? You both are grown, so if you want to get married you have every right. As far as us though, that’s our little girl who we dreamed of walking down the aisle and giving away. Gifting her with a big wedding where we could all celebrate that next stage of life with her and her husband. To not even be invited or told beforehand what was gonna happen it’s..,” he sighs briefly letting his eyes wander trying to find the right words, “it’s as if someone slapped us right across the face before the punch to the gut.”

Ari’s face falls in shame putting himself in the older man’s shoes. Of course he didn’t regret marrying you, but looking back he should’ve pushed more for you to be open with your parents. To not be afraid of their reaction and firm in that this was your decision.

Instead, he went along with your promise of telling them later so clouded by the joy and excitement of being wed to the love of his life.

“It might sound dramatic, but if you decide to have children you’ll understand.”

“No, I-I get it..and I’m sorry.”

Your father nods appreciatively, “Just give us some time son. We’ll be okay.”

Son. That was a good sign right?

“Happy Hanukkah Ari. And take care of my baby girl.”

“Of course sir,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

With a final wave goodbye, he watches your father descend the steps joining your mother in the running car; definitely still upset from the scowl twisting her face as she gazed out the passenger window.

He can hear your sniffles as he re-enters the linen scented space quickening his feet until he can sit next to you on the couch rubbing circles in your back and kissing your forehead.

“That’s definitely not what I wanted you to wake up to,” you half heartedly chuckle wiping your watery eyes.

“Hey don’t worry about that. I’m just sorry I even put you in the situation in the first place when I brought up getting married at the courthouse.”

Your fingers find his jaw softly scratching the bit of scruff lining it as you carefully shift to sit in his lap. “It was still my decision though. And yes I should’ve told them sooner..but I wouldn’t change how and when we got married,” you smile leaving two kisses, sweet as honey, on his lips. A beat of comfortable silence falls over the two of you while he holds you close to his chest gently rocking back and forth. Both of you taking in the sounds of birds and children outside for a few minutes as he occasionally pecks your temple and your heartbeats mold into a similar rhythm.

“Now,” you begin, sitting up to clear your face of any remaining streaks and tears, “I distinctly remember you promising to teach me all about Hanukkah. And cook me every dish until my stomach feels like it’s gonna pop.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay you don’t-,”

“A promise is a promise Ari!,” you dramatically state with a poke to his well built chest making his lips curl in a light chuckle. “Plus I want to. Like I said you’re my family too, and I wanna learn and explore everything about you.”

When he thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, there you were adorably making him fall even harder.

“Okay…so there was once a king named Antiochus, who ruled over Syria and lived outside of Israel. Now this king was horrible and so absorbed with himself, he ordered everyone in the countries he conquered to worship the Gods he did and abandon their usual practices. Eventually, he made his way to Israel where he enforced that order on the Jews and even went as far as commanding his soldiers to destroy our temples if the people weren’t willing to convert them. Unfortunately, this included the most beautiful of them that was in Jerusalem.”

Your attention stayed glued on the man with his arms around you, looking up with an adoring smile to see his eyes sparkle and how his lips moved filling your living room with a deep voice full of passion and animation. You didn’t have to ask to know he was the favorite among his little cousins for storytelling.

“Some followed the king’s orders to avoid trouble, but there were others, like Judah Maccabee, who stood up to him. He and his brothers formed an army to go against Antiochus and the Syrian army to take back their home and free his people from the king’s rule. They were outnumbered, I’m talking like middle schoolers up against a professional team, but they won! They reclaimed Jerusalem and everyone was thrilled, however when they entered the temple in Jerusalem, everything was ruined. The floor was cracked, gold pitchers tarnished, and most importantly, there was no oil to light the menorah. They found a little while cleaning up, but knew it’d only last through the night. Instead though, they were surprised to watch it stay lit for eight days and nights, which they took as a sign that God was with them. So in remembrance of that miracle and our own reminder of how God is always with us, we light a candle on the menorah each night for eight total nights. Plus we spend time with family, eat food, and play games as part of our complete Hanukkah celebration,” Ari smiles brushing a loose curl behind your ear. “Didn’t bore you too much did I?”

“Of course not. I loved it honey.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you peck his lips before nuzzling your face against his warm skin taking in his wood and sage cologne. “I can’t wait until you get to tell it to our kids.”

“Me either, but we still got a good while for that beautiful.”

“Or..it might come sooner than you think..”

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

“Like this summer,” you add being met with silence as you felt his head tilt. Something he tended to do when in thought or confused.

Gently lifting you from his chest, the sight of you nervously biting your lip is all the answer he needs as his expression morphs from confused to disbelief and finally shock. “B-But wait..how- when-?”

“Halloween and our um after party when we left your cousin’s. I’m nearly two months so I just did the math in my head and figured.” Thinking back, he remembers how both of you seemed to be unable to keep your hands off the other as soon as you walked through your apartment door. Him being in some type of hypnotic, aroused trance after watching you play with his toddler cousins and you after just seeing him with his family period. How you couldn’t wait to give him one of his own.

“I-I know it’s not part of our plan right now, especially with you in grad school and me figuring out my stuff-,”

“But it’s okay. We got this.” You hadn’t realized you were crying until you feel his thumb brush along your cheeks. Having kept your stress hidden for all this time, and what happened with your parents earlier, it was probably time to get your emotions out whether you wanted to or not.

“I just hope I live long enough to meet little bug,” he chuckles pressing his nose to your cheek before resting his forehead on yours. “You know your parents are definitely gonna kill me when they find out.”

“They won’t, but if they try I’ll just stand in front of you. They wouldn’t hurt the pregnant lady carrying their grandchild.”

“We might need to be handcuffed together for the rest of your pregnancy then.”

Taglist: @celestianstars @stargirlfics @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @adoreyouusugar @lovebittenbyevans @royalwriteroftheuniverse @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @theartisticqueen @chrisevans-world @literaturelove @ivorylei @elrw24 @pono-pura-vida @yinx1 @justile @sunsetfreedom05 @jackiekae @luvingmyships @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 8

Another podcast from Seward!

“There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebration! you will have to give the wall to your conscious brother.”

I feel like he’s just delaying the inevitable at this point and I don’t even blame him. I wouldn’t want to think about Renfield’s “method” of getting rid of the bugs either. Love how dramatic he is with this metaphor!

“I kept away from my friend for a few days, so that I might notice if there were any change.”

I’d love for there to be a world where Renfield and Seward were actually friends but…this feels a bit like Seward is overstepping the bounds of doctor/patient here. Not by much, mind you, but it’s interesting that he uses the term “friend” here as opposed to patient when he hasn’t done that in any of his entries before. Is that actually what he feels for Renfield now after focusing on him for this long or just what he’s calling Renfield as a bit of a condescension? Like “oh yes, my little friend with his weird bug problem, teehee he’s so silly!” Probably reading too much into this, but it is something to consider.

“Things remain as they were except that he has parted with some of his pets and got a new one. He has managed to get a sparrow, and has already partially tamed it. His means of taming is simple, for already the spiders have diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still brings in the flies by tempting them with his food.”

Renfield truly is a Disney princess! /j How he managed to wrangle a whole bird is impressive to me. I mean, it makes sense with the spiders and all, but still??? One does not simply call a bird into his room and make it a pet right?! He’s going to have a whole zoo by the end of this. Seward is living the worst end of a “if you give a mouse a cookie” scenario.

What’s also funny is that he *still* is bringing flies in with old food. This man is a menace and, while I hate what he’s bringing in due to my phobia, I gotta give it to him: this is a whole power move. Assert dominance on your doctor by starting your own farm in your room — he’ll probably let you: for science! The only issue is, I can’t imagine what this place looks like or smells like (and I don’t want to). I’m also curious, again, as to how he’s keeping all of these bugs — and now the sparrow — contained. Sure he has a box for the spiders, but what else? Does the bird just chill in his room and stay for the spiders? Or did Renfield give him a little leash? But where would he get rope?

You know, for how much Seward is studying this phenomenon, he’s not giving us much to work with his speculation on the methodology of the capture or how they’re staying captured (other than — they have food, which is next to nothing). Give me the director’s cut, Seward!!! I know the problem is he doesn’t want to think about it too much, but he’s the one who wanted to investigate!! It’s the consequences of his own actions if he doesn’t like the results of his investigations. The moral of this story is to get a better coping mechanism the next time you get rejected.

That’s about it for my reactions to this one! Except…

“Editor’s note: Another long span coming up here without Dracula emails. Stay firm, my friends.”

NOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭 another long Droughtula. Good luck, y’all 🫡

[maxbegone]

If you honestly think this is going to be seven sentences, you don’t know me by now! Happy late Sunday/early Monday, I hope the week treats you well ♥️

Alex misses being extroverted, but he knows he can never be too cautious. In this world, it’s all about protecting what you have.

He stands, propping the end of the rifle through the window of the watchtower. Finger on the trigger, safety off, looking through the sight.

“Take another step, and you each get one between your eyes,” he calls out to them warningly.

They stop short, hands raising.

“What do you want?”

“We—we didn’t know this area was occupied,” one of them says. He has a heavy British accent and he’s handsome under the wear and tear of whatever it is they’ve been through. “We’re just trying to find a way through.”

“Yeah, well the only way through is back that way if you don’t want trouble.” Alex gestures with the rifle. “Sorry.”

“Listen, mate, we’ve been walking for three days. We’re just looking for a place to kip that isn’t in the woods.” He smiles a little. “I swear.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.” The man smiles weakly. “We were with a group, but you know how it is out there.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “Can’t say I do too well anymore. Now what do y’all actually want?” He asks, keeping his aim steady.

Alex could shoot the cap off a glass bottle a hundred paces away and not shatter the damn thing, no questions asked. June could do it almost double.

“A place to sleep,” the same man reiterates. “That’s all. Listen, my name is Percy. My mate here is Henry. We don’t have anything to trade, but we’ve been walking for days and we’re just trying to find some shelter.”

For the first time in a long time, Alex hesitates.

He shouldn’t, but at his core he’s a people person, and even several years into a scarce world hasn’t seemed to fix that. Outside of his core community of himself, June, the three of their parents, Nora, and Raf, he hasn’t seen many people. Who has nowadays? And this excludes Zahra and Shaan who pop in and out every few weeks.

The world went to shit, people either retreated or died, and Alex’s family took the farmland Leo’s uncle left to him back in the early nineties.

They thrive, but they do so with who they have and who they can trust. Everyone else has been turned away at the gate or given what they needed and sent on their way. They have been very lucky not to get ambushed in the years since. Raf believes it’s because no one would be dumb enough to go through that much wilderness and up that steep a hill to do so. Ellen thinks it’s pure luck.

He studies them both from his vantage point: heavy-looking backpacks, mud-covered boots and well-worn clothes, they’re both dirty. There’s something different about them though, and Alex can’t quite put his finger on it. He looks from Percy to the other man, Henry, and finds himself immediately stilling. He has windswept blond hair that looks like it hasn’t been cut in quite a while, a gash on his cheek and some bruising under his eye. Alex catches his gaze, finding it impossible not to hold it for a few long beats at least.

“You can search us! We don’t have any weapons,” Henry pipes up. He’s British, too, and his voice is rich and melodic, despite how it wavers. Alex finds himself wanting to hear more.

Jesus fucking Christ, what is this shit?

“None? Out there?” They both shake their heads. He’s not sure he fully buys it. “Are y’all insane?”

“It’s stupid,” Percy admits. “Others had them, we were protected. We’ve been scrounging off rations of rations since.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Niagara. There’s a safe haven there.”

Alex huffs an inaudible laugh. “Yeah, lots of rumors about those.”

“Can’t be sure about much,” Henry says in lieu of agreement, and Percy nods.

“But it was our best option. We started off in Manhattan.”

Jesus. Alex sighs. He keeps the rifle pointed on them as he picks up his walkie. It chirps to life. “Gonna need some help at the gate, bug.”

“Roger dodger.”

Alex turns his attention back to the two men. “Don’t move,” he commands. “I’m coming down.”

He slings the rifle onto his back, pockets his walkie and makes the climb down the ladder, keeping them in sight as best he can.

He fixes his hat as he strides over, and the closer he gets, the more he begins to see. Percy looks off, unwell, but he’s standing tall and cooperative, expression affixed in something between friendly and neutral. Henry looks better, by comparison, but not by much. He’s certainly taken a few hits, at least physically.

“We’re gonna wait for backup,” Alex tells them both. He keeps his rifle at ease, but stares at them in a way that keeps them frozen to the spot. “Anything funny happens and that’s it.”

They both nod, and Percy says, “Noted.”

It takes about five minutes or so for June to arrive from her part of the property, hair pulled back into a high ponytail and a hand over the revolver in the holster on her waist. “We got company?”

“Could be friendlies,” Alex tells her, dropping his voice, but June’s mouth pulls to the side, protective nature coming out. “Looking for refuge for the night.”

“Gotta play it safe. Sorry, y’all.” She looks at them both and tilts her head up toward the sky. “Storm’s brewing, too.”

“Let’s hurry this up, then. Drop your bags,” Alex instructs. “Arms out.”

[stxrmylxve]

can you do a headcannon of draken bugging y/n? like constantly tickling her, picking her up etcc

YESS my first request lol. Ofc I can <33

you knew that when draken was tired, he never like to show its’ true form

instead, he was just a cuddle bug and.. needy

he normally was tame, especially at the Toman meetings since he is higher on the food chain, but naturally with you, he was different

but this… was adorable

he didn’t want to hurt you at first, so when it started it was just small pecks and hugging you from behing

but once you would let out your infamous laugh with a warm smile, he couldn’t help but eat it up

he just adored you, he knew y’all were both stressed all of the time, it was nice to let loose every once in a while.

He never spended a whole lot of time with you being at the bike shop or meetings all the time, but he was all over you when he could be!

he is so adorable like this help

indept writing loading…

“Draken, is there a specific reason why I’m over your shoulder right now?” you asks with a laugh as he chuckles and set you down on the soft grass.

“B’cause your adorable.” he says with a smile as he lays down beside your blushing figure.

“But you normally don’t pick me up for this long.” you say with a laugh as you lay back and gaze up at the stars together.

“Maybe I’ve changed.” he says softly as he yawns and reaches out for even hand, capturing it in his hold of calloused palms beaten from hard work.

You looked over at him. His eyes were shut and his breathing slowed ever so slightly as he relaxed for the first time in ages. You felt bad, forcing him to work so much due to your studies taking all of the time and money out of you both. Times like this were what you valued the most.

You rolled over to curve into his side, a large arm coming and placing it’s self on your stomach. Then the arm moved to tickle you, taking you by surprise and making you squeal and laugh.

“Draken! H-Hey!” you blabbed out in between inevitable laughs as he grinned at your helpless state he had you in.

“You think I’m tired? No way!” he says with a laugh as he lets you be so that you wouldn’t die from being breathless from laughing.

“You annoy me sometimes.” you say as you catch your breath.

“But you love me, little dragon.” he says with a grin.