#this has been sitting in drafts for a while but seeing that post with the anon bitching about “special snowflake OCs”

[yammpi3]

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision. 

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could. 

 

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work. 

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

 

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus. 

 

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind. 

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already. 

 

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. 

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw. 

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by  the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit. 

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel. 

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public. 

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace. 

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes. 

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow. 

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace. 

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered. 

 

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night. 

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness. 

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper. 

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

 

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins. 

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin. 

 

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive. 

 

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left. 

 

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer. 

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo." 

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise. 

 

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

 

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

 

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

 

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

 

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions. 

 

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

 

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin. 

 

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside. 

 

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly. 

 

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

 

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink. 

 

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release. 

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..” 

 

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry. 

 

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him. 

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

 

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

 

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm. 

 

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

 

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope. 

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[raayllum]

Invert Life and Death Theory

Yesterday, the fandom received two season seven synopses that detail similar mysterious concepts:

The stakes have never been higher as Aaravos and Claudia are on the warpath, determined to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death. With the world’s fate on the line, our heroes must be ready to sacrifice everything to save it.

As Aaravos and Claudia seek to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death, our heroes must be literally ready to sacrifice anything and everything love and believe in to save the world!

I will touch on the 'sacrifice' portion likely here, and then further in another meta that was actually already sitting in my drafts about it (as we've known for a while that S7's main theme is sacrifice, even if I didn't expect it to be so blatantly spelled out in the summaries). But I digress.

Aaravos (and Claudia) want to destroy the Cosmic Order. They want to invert life and death, to turn it upside down (much like Aaravos' chest star I might imagine). Presumably this is to make the Cosmic Order mortal-mortal so that they can be permanently killed and Aaravos can have his proper revenge. He might also be working towards trying to reassemble Leola's spirit somehow.

But what is that attempted inversion going to look like? Well... It does contextualize the weird consistent emphasis his plans have had on the Moon and Sun specifically:

And we might finally know why:

Sun and Moon, Life and Death

In previous posts, I'd speculated there was more than just politics or revenge at stake in Aaravos seemingly killing Luna Tenebris and Queen Aditi 300 years ago. Of course the in-story explanation that's most obvious is that he wanted political instability, which I think is certainly true.

However, thus far there's not really a Reason in-text that it had to be those two. Why not another Earth dragon instead, or a Tidebound king? Throughout the series the elves that have gotten the most focus and worldbuilding have routinely been Moonshadow and Sunfire elves, and it didn't really have to be. And of course we could get into the weeds and say that Earth could've been associated with Life and Sun with death, etc etc. but the point stands that I think this series long focus on Moonshadow and Sunfire elves/philosophies in addition to Aditi and Luna Tenebris' deaths/disappearances makes a lot of sense if Sun = Life and Moon = Death, and these are the things that Aaravos wishes to invert upside down.

The fact that this reflective relationship between Sun and Moon possibly ties into Aaravos being in a mirror, characters having shadow selves running around in the narrative, and the emphasis on mirrored images in the dark magic dreams we see also makes sense.

Aaravos already toppled the Sun Forge and thereby Sun Primal on his way through to the Storm Spire. Going back to the Moon Nexus in S6 was a welcome callback to Through the Moon, but the Moon Nexus specifically having a portal between life and death... reminding us of that location because it's going to play a much bigger role next season (potentially like other characters, like Aanya) could be on the table. In taking Lux Aurea, Aaravos got the corrupted Sun staff after all.

Speaking of which, let's talk about

Rayla and Claudia

I don't think I have to explain why or routinely how Rayla is associated with the Moon as a Moonshadow elf. Secretive yet open, caught between love and duty, life and death, truth and lies, light and dark, Rayla embodies all this and more. Callum has also asked for her to be his Death if push comes to shove and he's possessed again, but she's also what has saved him in S6 from said threat of possession (and likely will again). This isn't to say that Aaravos needs a Moon arcanum and is going to take Rayla's (though I suppose he could), I think the likelier outcome is corrupting the Moon Nexus (and hence why you animate/rig Lujanne, Allen, and a new Phoe-Phoe design under your software at all). But it does mean I think Rayla will be a mirror to Claudia / whatever is happening with the Moon Nexus as a way to manipulate Callum, per usual.

Conversely, Claudia has wielded the corrupted Sun staff — a literally corrupted light that represents dark magic to her outright in S6, and one that she uses as a literal and metaphorical crutch — since season three, only occasionally using her father's staff with Viren only using the Sun staff for the Hearts of Cinder spell. She's a sun that's already been eclipsed by Aaravos, by death, in more ways than one. Someone who's walked a continually bloodier, darker path the further the show has gone on.

If and when Claudia gives up dark magic, she'll be 'restored' as the Sun — uncorrupted, bolstered by the truth ("Careful, if you tell the truth you will lose her"), shining brightly again. In the meantime, though, if Claudia is brought home in parallel with Callum being saved from dark magic corruption in S6, I think someone else will be Claudia's 'sun'. So let's talk about it.

Trials and Tests of Love

While we might see more — I could see Karim getting a trial on a technicality in S7 — as it stands now we see three former trials in the series. The first is in S4 among the Sunfire elves with Lucia, who ruined a sacred ritual by putting out a light, and is declared not innocent but worthy of life over death. Then we see Leola, who despite being truly innocent is condemned to death by the Star/First Elves and is made into nothing more than a light star known as Leola's Last Wish. Finally, we're going to seemingly have Rayla, whose actions did lead to the death of her troupe of Moonshadow assassins in the Silvergrove.

Just like with starlight vs moonlight vs sunlight with the Celestial elves, and Astrid + star magic creatures like Sir Sparklepuff in particular....

AARAVOS: Otherwise the sun will rise, and you will not.

We see this pattern of sun, star, and moon again with the trials alongside ideas of mercy, innocence, and concepts of paying the price.

Meanwhile, in season six, both Claudia and Callum were searching for their deep truths. Their path. Callum found his in Rayla and accepted it wholeheartedly. Claudia thought she'd find hers in Viren ("I'll look at him and I'll know / I need him to show me the right path"), but found only his body and the prison he left behind. Of course, the main reason that Viren died in season six was that he wanted to save Katolis, and more than that, he wanted to save his son.

She said that this was my home, and that my brother and I needed each other.

If Claudia is an eclipsed sun, a form of life turned death, than Soren is the uncorrupted version of the sun, ready and willing to guide her back if she'll just give him the chance. And in going back to Katolis, in sparing/saving Soren, Viren did help give Claudia what she needed in order to find her true path some day, too: a life with her brother and Terry at her side.

Claudia's first real test of love in the series was whether to choose the egg — the world, her father's wishes — over the safety and wellbeing of her family — her brother. She made the right choice.

I'm here.

It'd make sense if one of her final tests of love was a similar trial — maybe even if Callum under possession/Aaravos' control hurts Soren ("Oh I've been stabbed by the stab-prince!") — and Claudia once again chooses her brother over everything, just as he chooses for and fights for her. She ultimately chooses life over death, reflecting the massive change in herself and her character arc.

Likewise, Rayla being a Moonshadow elf saved from death ("I leapt to my certain death, but you spread your wings and you saved me" / "Finnegrin was going to kill you, I didn't have a choice") from Callum means breaking his promise, yes.

However, it also frees her up from needing to be an assassin and therefore from needing to behave like she's "already dead" or that Callum is. The possession/corruption would be a fate worse than death / metaphorical to literal death and rather than delivering either, Rayla would save him in turn. Like Claudia, she chooses life over death, symbolizing the same turning point. Callum, meanwhile, could get the Moon arcanum by realizing he has dark and light inside him; this may not mean a total blank slate (idk if they'd repeat that) from corruption, but a way to permanently throw off Aaravos' control of him regardless.

Life, over death.

Life and death working in harmony under principles of justice, mercy, and compassion.

Conclusion

This is more of rambling "notes on top of all this" place than a proper conclusion, but just a summary of stuff / some speculation for later:

Aaravos needed Moon and Sun stuff specifically from Luna Tenebris and Queen Aditi and that's why he killed them

Aaravos is going to successfully make the Cosmic Council mortal, even if that means making himself mortal.

This makes him more powerful than the Council and they may have reason to ally with our main team in order to take down Aaravos and/or be destroyed themselves

Rayla as Moon and Claudia as Sun reflect both life and death, but each will likely choose life over death; for Rayla this is about a certainty, for Claudia it's more up in the air if she'll have her redemption arc yet (I could see it getting pushed further to arc 3).

I think it'd be really nice if the inversion of life and death had broad implications meant some characters got to say goodbye, like Callum and Ez having a moment with Harrow and/or Sarai

And I think that's about it! What do you think inverting life and death may mean?

[awrkive]

PLS SHARE THE DOYEON CONFESSION SCENE DRABBLE PLS RACHEL SEND IT TO US X🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

summary: tlp drabble #1 where doyeon confesses to jk in first year med school

w/c: 1.5k

note: this ask was sent a few days ago and i actually already have this drabble in the drafts so.... yes 🤓i welcome u to the ribbon cutting ceremony of the unlocking of a new tag in awrkive nation: tlp drabbles

Doyeon believes that she’ll only live until sixty-five – seventy, if luck’s on her side. Ultimately, she’s firm on her stand that life is short and everybody needs to get off whatever is on their chest before it’s too late. 

It’s why when she sees Jungkook arriving in Moon’s Printing Shop – where their study group holds their sessions – she sits upright and fixes her already neatly piled books and notes on the table once again, preparing herself.

Just ask the question and get over it quickly. She reminds herself.

“Where’s __?” Is the first thing that comes out of Jungkook’s mouth, taking off the straps of his backpack and setting it down on the chair across hers, as well as some of his bound reviewers and iPad. 

Doyeon raises her brow.

It’s weird when Jungkook does that. Asking about you whenever and wherever when you’re not around. She knows you were friends first before you both found her, and you are close – it’s second nature at this point. Still, Doyeon can’t help but be a little suspicious.

But she decides to ignore that, not wanting to put malice in Jungkook’s intentions because it would be unfair to him. She doesn’t want to be that kind of person who thinks that men and women can’t be purely platonic. You’re just good friends, is all.

Though, she definitely did assume that you both were a couple the first time she saw you. Physiology had just ended and Jungkook said he needed to go to the next floor to meet someone for lunch. Doyeon asked to tag along, and that was the first time she met you. Fast forward, you actually weren't his girlfriend. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Jungkook blushed though when she asked him about it.

Glancing at her phone, she sees the empty notification bar, indicating that you haven’t replied to her text from twenty minutes ago. 

“She said she was coming. Twenty minutes ago. She also said it’s okay if we start without her.” Doyeon responds, and she watches as Jungkook settles on his seat, nodding at her.

He goes for his own phone, clicks on it as if also texting you himself. 

Doyeon watches him with furrowed brows. Jungkook is definitely… conventionally attractive. He sports a medium-length hair, is quite tall, and has a good sense of fashion – even now when he’s just wearing the university hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants, he looks good. Naia from Physiology has been asking about him.

Doyeon has had a few crushes from highschool to college, and she thinks Jungkook might be her first in post-grad school. 

She’s been thinking about it for a while… though, she’s only known him for two months. Still. He looks good, and most of all, he’s nice. He let her borrow a pen from him the first day they met and was extremely friendly. 

And also really smart. Doyeon likes that most about him. 

Doyeon rids her head off the thoughts.

“Anyway. Anatomy.” She starts flipping through her book, ready to start the session. But she remembers about what she has to say to him.

Oh, well. She's already mentioned Anatomy and studying. Might as well put off the confession for a few more days. The exam is more important.

Putting his phone down, Jungkook looks through his book as well. "Midterms is next week, right?"

Doyeon nods. “Yeah... and brachial plexus is convoluted to me.” 

“Oh, yeah. Threw me off at first, too,” Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head to himself. He grabs a piece of paper. “You just really have to figure out how the branches and divisions work. Let me show you something,” 

Jungkook turns the paper to Doyeon’s direction, and with a pen, he sketches out a simple diagram of the brachial plexus, starting with the roots, then moving to the trunks, divisions, cords, and finally the terminal branches.

“Okay, so it starts here with the roots— C5 to T1. Think of it like the beginning of a tree. Then these roots combine into trunks,” He scribbles it, and then looks at Doyeon for awhile, making sure she’s still following. She gives him a slight nod. He smiles. “Annnd, there’s the superior, middle, and inferior trunks… and they split into anterior and posterior divisions.” 

He’s talking calmly, methodical in his words. He simplifies such a complex system with clear, organized steps, and this makes Doyeon lean closer, impressed not only by Jungkook’s understanding but by how easily he breaks it down.

When Jungkook’s done explaining, Doyeon leans back to her chair. “That is a really neat diagram.” She looks at the original illustration that the lecturer presented a few weeks ago, and when Jungkook sees that, he laughs lightly. 

“Yeah, that diagram is just a mess. But it does click when you just think of it like a pathway—kind of like navigating through a map,” As if he remembers something, he lights up a little. “And oh, __ also taught me a mnemonic. You just have to remember the terminal branches, MARMU. Musculocutaneous, Axillary—’

“Radial, Median, and Ulnar nerves.”

Jungkook grins. “Exactly.” 

Nodding her head, she starts to do the same drawing on her notes. 

A few minutes passed, comfortable silence hanging in the air. Doyeon had kept on looking up from her book to Jungkook, who’s diligently reading and scribbling on his iPad. 

She remembers the confession again.

Doyeon can't help it. She has to ask. Now.

“Hey,” she calls.

Jungkook looks up from his device. “Hm?” 

“I have to ask you something.”

With a raised brow, Jungkook says, “You look serious. I’m a little scared.”

She furrows her brows and he chuckles, telling her to continue. 

“Are you dating somebody?” Doyeon asks straight ahead. There’s no need to tiptoe around it. She just has to get it out of her system before it becomes worse.

Obviously taken aback and not expecting the question at all, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth like fish in water. 

“... no?” 

“You’re not sure?” Doyeon asks, confused.

Jungkook stammers. “No, I mean— yes. No. I’m not dating anybody,” He raises a brow at her. “Why?” 

Doyeon nods. 

“I like you. Are you interested in going out with me?”

Doyeon waits. She watches as Jungkook seems to freeze in his seat, his hand holding his apple pencil pausing mid-air; mouth agape, eyes widened a bit. 

She waits for a few seconds, still not getting an answer from Jungkook. 

“Okay.” Doyeon says after the stretched-out silence, going back to her book.

Well. That was worth the shot. At least she's let it out now. 

“I—what?” Jungkook splutters, sounding incredulous. “What do you mean you like me? Like, like? And you want to go out with me?” 

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Offer is now off the table. Let’s get back to studying.” 

“What— were you even serious?” Jungkook insists. “Was that a prank or something?” 

With furrowed brows, Doyeon looks at him quizzically. “Why would I joke about something like that?” 

“Because…” He trails off, then his shoulders deflate after a few seconds. “I don’t know.” 

“Okay?” When Doyeon sees him with a pouty expression on his face, she can’t help but frown. “Don’t think too much about it, Jungkook. It’s not serious. I just wanted to ask. You gave me an answer. That’s it.” 

“I didn’t give you an answer, though?” 

“Your silence meant enough.” Jungkook doesn’t say anything. She nudges his foot under the table. “Come on, don’t be weird about this.”

Sighing, Jungkook nods his head. “Alright.” 

A few beats of silence, and Doyeon remembers something. “Don’t ever mention this to anybody, not even __, you understand me?” 

He blinks at her. “Okay.” 

Doyeon can’t say the next few minutes weren’t awkward. She felt Jungkook looking up at her every now and then, as if checking up on her. By then, she started to feel the hairs on her body prickle. Is he thinking she’s like, in love with him, or something? 

“Hello!” Doyeon looks up from her notes to see you walking in the door. “Hi Doyeon, hi Jungkook!” you cheerfully greet them both with a bright smile. 

Doyeon thinks your smile is contagious, so she mirrors your it as well. When her gaze falls to Jungkook, that’s when she takes note of it. 

The way his eyes suddenly light up at your arrival. It's not the first time it happens. He has that look every single time you're in the room.

Jungkook instantly goes over to you to help you with the books you’re carrying. When he sets them down on the table, he empties the chair beside him so you can settle down on it, which you do. 

“You’re late. Where were you?” Jungkook asks, and Doyeon doesn’t know if it was supposed to be subtle— but he definitely scooted his chair closer to yours, leaning his elbow to the table and twisting his body to your direction, giving you his undivided attention.

“Oh, just good old traffic. I made a quick trip to a cafe,” you wave him off. Lifting your hand, Doyeon looks at the cup holder you’re holding. “I bought coffee. Doyeon, do you like iced americano?”

“Uh, yeah,” Doyeon smiles shyly. She’s still shy around you. She doesn’t know why. “Thank you. I’ll venmo you.” 

There’s an instant frown on your face. With a pout, you take the cup holder close to your chest, an offended expression on your face. “No, it’s a treat. Don’t venmo me anything.” 

Doyeon can’t help but chuckle. 

“Okay.” 

Your huge grin returns and you give her the cup of iced americano. Turning to Jungkoon who looks like he’s eagerly waiting for his own, you raise a brow at him, saying, “And this one's for you. But double the price.”

Jungkook frowns. 

You both end up arguing again. It’s light-hearted and good-natured, that’s what Doyeon thinks. Your friendship is just… bizarre like that. 

But as she sits across from you, watching both your and Jungkook’s interaction, Doyeon realizes something. 

She should’ve known. She’s always thought about it. She wanted to ignore her hunch because again, she thinks women and men can be friends – but that is hard to uphold when Jungkook is so painfully obvious. 

Oh, brother. Doyeon internally shakes her head. Jungkook definitely likes you.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.1. the first time you saw quinn hughes.

➴ warnings: mentions of shitty family.

➴ word count: 1.08k

➴ author’s note: this has been sitting on my drafts for days because i wasn’t brave enough to post it. but this story is very important to me and i promised myself i’d stop doubting what i write and just go for it. i hope with all my heart u guys like this ♡

౨ৎ

2013, SEPTEMBER.

THE first time you saw Quinn Hughes you were twelve years old.

Your family had just bought the house next to his, a beautiful four bedroom house with lots of space and a beautiful backyard— the perfect house for a family of four.

It was a week after you all settled in, your Dad as a Sports Medicine Physician working for a Hockey Canadian team, the Toronto Maple Leafs— the whole reason why you moved in the first place— your Mom as a Editor-in-Chief for the Fashion magazine, one of Canada's leading fashion publications, featuring content related to fashion, beauty, culture, and modeling and your brother, Peter, in High School as a freshman.

You were sitting on your porch, while you waited for Peter to be back so you could convince him to play football with you. He always said no, but you didn't give up. A few minutes later, Peter got out of your neighbor’s house, alongside another boy, who was slightly shorter than Peter.

You watched as they both walked towards your house, talking about something you couldn’t hear. You remember being so enamored with the sight of the boy that you couldn’t stop fidgeting your hands.

They stopped right in front of you, and while Peter was ready to ignore you and move on with his day— he’d been doing that more and more since he started High School— the other boy stopped and looked right at you.

“You didn’t tell me you have a sister.” The boy said, looking at your brother for a second before turning back at you.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “That’s Madison. She’s ten.”

“I’m eleven,” you corrected, voice soft and quiet.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, grabbing his keys so he could open the front door.

“Can you play with me now?” You asked, getting up from your seat, finally noticing how tall this other boy was. “I have the ball with me already.” You pointed at the ball that sat on the same couch you were also sitting not a minute ago.

“No, Madison. I’m with Quinn now.” Peter said, pointing at the boy beside him, who was now frowning at your brother.

Quinn. That’s a funny name, you remember thinking.

“We can play with her, I don’t mind—” the boy, Quinn, said, already reaching for the ball.

“Nah, bro. She’s annoying as hell. Once you pick that ball up, you won’t be able to let it go for like, three hours.” Peter replied, already opening the door.

You felt yourself tearing up and even though you hated crying in front of your brother, you couldn’t help it. Growing up, he was your best friend. Your hero even, when your parents decided that arguing during dinner, in front of their children, was a nice thing to do and he would make funny faces at you across the table just so you could laugh. When he pretended to yell at the monster under your bed or when he let you paint his nails with your pink nail polish.

But somewhere between turning fifteen and entering High School, he changed. And you hated every inch of this new Peter Carter.

He entered the house, shouting something, probably announcing to your mom that he was home. And you stood there, looking at your hands.

“Next time, I’ll play with you, okay?” Quinn, who was still standing in front of you, hesitated, looking as devastated as ever.

You felt embarrassed and you got out of there as fast as you could, running back inside and nestling yourself between your covers and plushies.

౨ৎ

YOU didn’t think Quinn had meant what he had said the other day, so you were surprised to see that he showed up the next morning, when both of your parents were at work and Peter was asleep in his bedroom upstairs.

“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping on your backyard patio and looking around. “Nice place you got here. We can play for a long time without risking throwing the ball in Mrs. Wright window.”

You giggled, remembering Mrs. Wright's funny wig.

“I’m Quinn Hughes.” He introduced himself after a while.

“I know that,” you whispered, watching as he laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirteen, but I turn fourteen on October 14th,” he said. “You’re eleven, right?”

“Yes. My birthday was in May. I got this ball,” you raised the ball you were holding so he could see it better. It had your name on it. “And I also got new clothes for my plushies.”

“That sounds nice,” he nodded. “I’ll probably get a new stick on my birthday.”

“Why would you need a stick?” You asked, not sure what he could do with a stick. A tree’s stick. At least that’s what you thought a stick was.

Maybe he wants to put it on his fireplace.

“I play Hockey,” he answered and you still didn’t understand. The only thing you knew about Hockey was that it was the reason you and your family moved to Toronto. So it probably wasn’t a good thing. “And I need a new one.”

“Well, if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s fine,” you shrugged, poking your ball. “But that will probably be boring. You should ask for something cooler.”

He laughed again, sitting on the grass beside you. “I’ll think about that. Thank you for your advice.”

You puffed your chest a little, happy to feel useful for once.

That morning, you and Quinn didn’t end up playing; instead, you talked for hours, with you both asking each other questions about literally everything. From what’s your favorite color to what you wanna be when you grow up.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest every time you stared into his blue eyes that sometimes morphed into a light green shade, but you didn’t understand why. Quinn was being nice, he was treating you just like Peter did before you moved to Toronto and it felt so, so nice.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked, right before he left for lunch at his house.

“I think so.” He smiled, quickly patting you on the head. He gave you a short wave before moving back to his home.

And you just stood there, counting the seconds so that maybe tomorrow would come faster, and you’d finally have a friend again.

[slavhew]

jakey + dirkjake sandwiched between my organic chem notes. a poem in there somewhere

[exhausted-archivist]

Common Fanons That Are Confused As Canon

Through my time of collecting lore and learning things about Thedas I've come across a couple things of fanon that leaked into lists of canon elements. Which was an interesting little thing to follow the rabbit hole of where they even originated. While making this list I did ask others for any that I might have missed or not seen because I wanted to be thorough as I could when even making this list. I haven't been in the fandom long enough to see all the things that have come up.

To be clear, I thought it was neat to see what became so pervasive in the fandom to become easily mistaken as canon or misunderstood. I'm also not discussing whether canon as it stands is "good" or judging the fanon or anything like that.

I just wanted to put it all together in a list, especially as I have had friends who were getting into the series and ask about certain things; as well as Dragon Age Summer hitting us soon and new interest in the series abound.

General

Mages can sense other mages The closest source I can find to this is the fact that Anders states that he can "feel the power in you". No other mage states anything similar and could likely be attributed to the fact that he is possessed. Much like how Cole can sense your magical connection as an Inquisitor. An outlier is how Keiran can sense your magic regardless of if he has the Old God soul; but he is also not confirmed to be a mage as of yet.

All Saarebas always have their lips sewn shut/horns cut off This seems to originate from da2 specifically, with the model of Ketojan having the scarring, the other saarebas missing horns, the concept art, and then boils down to BioWare being inconsistent with their lore/depictions. Most of Thedas fixates on the fact that the Qunari have saarebas with their lips sewn shut, the Seer's yarn tale denotes that tamassrans tell the story of a saarebas with their lips sewn shut, the tarot art for Saarath, and the flippant joke between Sera and Iron Bull. But, the lore specifies that it is in extreme cases or in general that it can occurs but it is not the standard. [WOT p. 103 & 128] Much like tranquility, it is used as a form of punishment - one that we know can and is abused by certain factions. We also see saarebas characters in Inquisition who do not carry either of those traits. Specifically Hissera (multiplayer), Saareth (Trespasser), Heroes of Dragon Age models, and some Qunari in da2.

All Saarebas have their tongues cut out This is seperate from the previous point due to the different source of this fanon. It seems to be an exaggeration of one particulare line from Sten. In dao, Sten will state during the Broken Circle quest that "This is why we cut the tongues from mages, in Par Vollen." He is very general with the statement, but contextually it is reasonable people took this to mean all mages. However, since dao it has been made clear that it is not a universal practice throughout the Qun.

Elves are shorter than humans This one does have a clear point of where this started, though it is never stated in lore, back in Origins elven models were universally shorter than humans. But from DA2 onward, male elves were only shorter than their human counterparts of the same sex while female elves are shorter than both human sexes. Fenris is taller than f!Hawke while both forms of Hawke are taller than Merrill. Solas, Abelas, and a m!Lavellan are taller than female human characters but all human characters are taller than female elves (except Sera who has a female human model).

Dalish are illiterate This is a little less clear to me where its origins started. Perhaps based off of medieval period history (which da isn't necessarily medieval in time period) or due to the fact that most common folk in certain regions in Thedas are illiterate and reliant on pictures over written words. But we know from the Witch Hunt dlc that the Dalish keep tomes of their history and of the ancient elven empire. They also actively translate ancient elven script for their own records. Whether this is role restrictive or not is unclear, but we do know that the Dalish are literate in both Common and semi-literate in ancient elven script.

Dalish and City Elves don't have contact This seemingly comes from a misunderstanding stemming in the city elf origins in dao where some npcs will comment on how Dalish might be myths. However, in dao, da2, dai, the comic Knight Errant, and the novel The Masked Empire, that elves from both sides do semi-regularly trade people with each other if not visit certain alienages, as well have other points of contact with each other. Pol, Zevran, Coran (Vaea's uncle), and potentially Feynriel are all city elves that join Dalish clans. Merrill and Arianni are known Dalish who join alienages.

City elves are genetic/physical differences from the Dalish elves This one I have seen around a lot, most stemming from the idea of the previous one that the elves in the city are generations apart from the Dalish, implying they have no contact with each other. Which could be true for certain alienages. But as far as lore is concerned there isn't any example of this, not even as being a point of reference for the Dalish to consider any of the aspects as to what makes them "less of an elf" in comparison to Dalish.

Elves pass on their elven traits Most seem to know this isn't canon, albeit one of the less popular canon elements; but new fans don't always know this. It is popular fanon to give half-elven children the reflective eyes, smaller stature, more angular features, straighter nose bridge, and/or pointed ears from their elven parent.

Only elves can have mixed kids with other races This seems to come from the fact that elven traits aren't passed on to their kids when mixed parentage is involved. However humans, dwarves, and vashoth can all have mixed kids from the other races. According to Patrick Weekes, this decision was made consciously to avoid very racist and harmful rhetoric. We know of many elf/human mixed kids: Alistair, Eiton, Feynriel, Gestan and Thale (residents of elven area of Halamshiral), Kieran (conditions), Michel de Chevin, Rinnala, "Sabina's Brat" (son of the elven prostitute Sabina at the Blooming Rose), Slim Couldry, Tainsley (Potentially. Is described as a 7'(2.13m) human, though he references a Dalish uncle.) While mixed dwarf children are rare simply due to dwarven fertility issues we do know of two dwarf/human kids: Keiran (conditional) and the child of Tyrdaa Bright-Axe(Avvar) and Hendir (dwarf).

Elfroot leaves get you high/is Thedosian marijuana This is another Origins era thing, due to an easter egg that made a play on the American "This is your brain on drugs" anti-drug campaign using elfroot. This was then repeated in 2015 when Patrick Weekes said that its medicinal properties were rediscovered in 4:20. [Source] Elfroot hasn't been shown to get anyone high in canon, it is the roots that are primarily used as medicinal. In World of Thedas (WoT) vol. 2 the recipe for Dalish Deep Forest Comfort says you can substitute elfroot for spinach making the leaves more vegetable in quality. That said, marijuana leaves are edible and rather nutritious. They just don't have the chemical make up to induce a high. Those lie strictly in the buds. According to Origins, elfroot does flower though.

Red lyrium is completely different and more dangerous from blue lyrium This one is all on BioWare in regards to this misconception. Because while yes, it is more dangerous than the blue lyrium, they aren't two seperate substances. More that red lyrium is a branch off. To cover the generals of the written lore of lyrium it breaks down like this: Blue lyrium in it's raw form innately toxic to just be around to all but dwarves, however it will kill a mage who gets too close in proximity. That proximity being within the same room while non-mages would have to touch the stuff. It also has a pension of self-combustion without warning or a clear cause. When it is refined down for templar use it is "safe" for non-mages to come in contact with and consume. Whether this level of refinement is the same level as what is used to make various cocktails and liqueur is unclear. But we do know that getting too close, being in same room as lyrium refined to this level, is enough to make a mage sick. Finally, we have the most refined and diluted stage of lyrium, this is used by mages to make potions, certain alchemical work, and other things. This isn't enough to kill a mage, make them sick (without extreme over use), and infact can result in positive outcomes for a mage. Red lyrium overlaps with most of that, with a couple key differences. First off is that red lyrium doesn't seem to self-combust. There is some contradiction on whether or not non-dwarves can mine it as due to game mechanics you can destroy it, but the only ones we see mining wild nodes are dwarves. But if the red lyrium is grown from a living creature it seems accessible to all races? In codices about the various types of red templars, we learn that a small vial around a templar's neck is enough to make all the mages in the area around him sick.

Character Specific

Alistair

Alistair is a dog person I couldn't track any clear origins for this, it seems to be a case of overlap with the stereotype that "all Fereldan's love dogs" and a mix of building off of a line of dialogue about him being raised by the hounds and them being his family. However, he doesn't seem overly one way or the other. He mocks dog at times, talks down in not such a playful way, and at times seems to treat dog with the same attitude he does Morrigan though not as blatantly. This could be chalked up to his joking nature though.

Alistair's obsession with cheese While he does admit to an obsession to cheese, it is often cited that Alistair makes a ton of cheese jokes in dao. When in truth he only makes four through out the entire game. Given his joking nature it is up to personal interpretation of how much he actually loves cheese.

Alistair and Cullen knew each other before Origins This is more specifically that the two went to the same monastery for their templar training. There is no canon evidence for this though. That said, there is a possibility due to not knowing much of anything about how the Templar Order trains its recruits nor the amount of monasteries they have in Ferelden for training.

Alistair collects toy soldiers This seems to come from the gifts he can be given during the Feastday dlc. Canonically he is given runestones and carved statuettes of various types stone. These statuettes are described in a manner closer to effigies than toy soldiers.

Alistair's mother is not Fiona This one is a bit funny as it has multiple origins and is dependent on the player's experience with the series. From what I have gathered there seems to be one of three sources: - People who never read the Dragon Age novel The Calling - People who read The Calling after playing dao and feels like it is a retcon (though The Calling was released prior to the release of dao, same with the novel The Stolen Throne) - People who take a "chuck the baby with the bathwater" approach to the lore The funny thing about this is that the cover story in dao for Alistair's mom is based off a combo of things; the hypothetical scenario Fiona told Maric and answers she gave Maric when he asked what to tell Alistair if he asked about his mother. The hypothetical was that Fiona would not return to the Circle and would hide from the templars and pretend to be a washer woman. When Maric asked what to tell Alistair of his mother, Fiona said to tell him his mother was human as she did not want him to deal with being half elven and all the stigma that comes with that as well as to tell Alistair that she was dead.

Avaline

Aveline is straight She will kiss Hawke regardless of gender and ask them if they ever considered her and them. Though it is clear she never had romantic interest in Hawke in particular. An easily missed aspect I think given the general opinion of Aveline as well as most people seeming to not choose the flirtatious option with her.

Blackwall

Blackwall doesn't have a sense of humor This one genuinely surprised me considering he jokes with Sera, The Iron Bull, and Solas. His banter shows as much that he does have a sense of humor and tells jokes. But it does seem pretty common of a fanon characterization for him.

Dorian

Dorian paints his nails His model doesn't have painted nails in game, but it is a popular fanon. There is nail polish in Thedas though. It's mentioned in the novel Masked Empire as well as the novel Last Flight. It seems to be of Anderfles origins, but given the Last Flight is post Orlesian occupation, it could originate in Orlais.

Lady Mantillon said, tapping an elegantly lacquered fingernail on the polished wooden arm of her chair, “we will fail, or we will be killed. Neither is acceptable.” - Masked Empire, Chapter 17 p. 362 Every one of her fingers glimmered with a jeweled ring, and her nails had been freshly lacquered. - Last Flight, Chapter 13 p. 144

Fenris

Lyrium can be drawn from Fenris' tattoos There is no mention of this being possible in da2 or any of the subsequent media. There isn't even mention of others being able to sense the lyrium in his tattoos or even mages getting sick around him as they sometimes will dependent on the concentrations and/or purity of lyrium.

Fiona

How Fiona was cured of the taint This comes from The Calling novel, where it isn't ever clarified what actually removed the taint from Fiona. The common fanon is that it was either the mentioned brooch, or that by having Alistair. That it was by having Maric's son who has Great Dragon blood due to being of the Theirin bloodline that cured her. However, in the novel she is very clear that the mages at Weisshaupt aren't sure what cured her. She only offers one explanation that the Grey Wardens theorized and trails off before saying what the second one was.

“It’s gone,” she said flatly. “The mages at Weisshaupt weren’t sure if it was because the First Enchanter’s brooch sped things up artificially, or... at any rate, all the corruption vanished. They don’t think it’s going to come back, either. There was test after test, but they think I may be the first Grey Warden that never has to endure the Calling again.”

Hawke

Hawke is stabbed by the Arishok This fanon likely came into being due to one of the moves the Arishok has where it will leave you almost dead. So a bit of canon as it is in his move set, but fanon in the idea it is something that always happens in canon.

Unable to confirm if Fanon, Canon, or a mix of both

Teagan marries Bella, the barmaid from Redcliffe This one goes back really far and is hard to tell if it is a case of mistaken identity and association, or a really buggy option for the epilogue, or isn't actually a possibility. What I can confirm is that Teagan does have a woman he can marry given certain conditions are met in dao, but it is actually Kaitlyn, the sister who's brother goes missing in Redcliffe. If you properly compensate her for her grandfather's sword she'll open up a foundry in Denerim and will marry Teagan after having known him for a few months. According to this thread, you have to get Kaitlyn to move to Denerim with her brother, make Bella the maid to Teagan and in the ending slide Teagan and Bella will get married. Though I haven't been able to confirm that this is possible. (If you have a screenshot/video of this slide and know how to trigger this please let me know) This is also not an option mentioned in the Keep, however neither is Kaitlyn's. Which isn't surprising given some of the ending slides that were not direct player choice (ex) choosing Orzammar's king) are mostly cut from canon.

[asanjou]

king jeremy with ambiguous sword circa whatever the fuck year

[elliewiltarwyn]

As she looks upon them, seeing the way their hands so naturally curl around each other, something bittersweet resonates in Lily's chest. She still isn't sure she wholly understands the sensation, or what just happened to her -- what role she played in dispatching Mitron, in freeing Gaia from his grasp.

She's so beyond relieved to see Gaia safe, to see Ryne's hand in hers. To feel the soft grass spreading beneath their feet and witness the brilliant colors of the rainbow-colored crystal before them -- their mission appears to have been a resounding success on every possible level.

Yet this ache lingers in her heart -- similar, but not quite in the same arena as the lingering trauma from her first love, nor is it the bitterness that has weighed upon her since Yugiri's gentle rejection. It's not even the whirlpool she's been slowly drowning in since she first noticed the way Ellie and Mia have been looking at each other recently.

It's a strangely contented ache, as oxymoronic as that sounds. Like she's reconciled a part of herself. Like she has, for once, even though she's lost something in the process, accepted this turn of events. And she has -- she's really, truly, genuinely happy for Ryne and Gaia.

A voice within her is saying this is good, this is right, and she feels oddly inclined to heed it. Maybe she hasn't lost so much as she thinks.

a vague skeleton of the plot thoughts i have about Lily and Eden: seeing Ryne and Gaia's affection for each other blossoming forces Lily to confront some of her own conceptions of what love is after the trauma she's been through, and maybe learn how to process the broken pieces of herself she's never been able to pick up. And maybe she gets a hand when she realizes her soul resonates too much with the Ascian who wants Gaia all for himself. And maybe her reconciliation involves her literally reconciling with the man who turns out to be another shard of her soul.

so yeah Lily's ancient self was Artemis in case that wasn't obvious, and she probably ends up merging with Mitron the same way Ellie merged with Ardbert. and the point of this is ??? idk but it feels cool gshalkfakjfk

extremely silly bonus:

"What in the godsdamn-- Mia, is it just me, or--" "Ellie, I swear, if this is about the ghosts again, I'm throwing you into that lake."

[heloflor]

So I was looking up random moments from "Save the World" and um...

This is yet another sex joke, isn't it ? Unless Max built a torture dungeon inside the White House (tbh he would).

(Footage from Andrea Pannocchia, at the beginning of 105)

[lifemod17]

straight up "watching it". and by "it", haha, well. let's justr say. the sunsets my friends sends me.

[stardestroyer81]

Mega Man 10 features a triad of playable characters— Mega Man, Proto Man, and Bass. Unlike the former two, Mega Man 10 was Bass's first 8-Bit outing (Not counting his very minor cameo in Mega Man 9), and his faux NES sprite is... off. It's not a bad sprite by any means, but his color palette and posture being much too close to Rock's never quite sat right with me.

But what would Bass look like in my spriting style? Well... here's your answer! ✨

[altrxisme]

me: thought would have more time to do replies, was excited to do so the universe: fuck you

[tennisarchives]

in honor of trophy husband being a surprise hit, allow me to present snippets of the conversation that started it all:

clearly @advantage-sinner and i are normal people who have normal thoughts about tennis 😚

[gamebunny-advance]

Am I the only one...

...that has never seen that patch on DJSS's chest as a tie?

I always thought it was a part of his shirt, not a separate piece.

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!australian!reader [no faceclaim] summary: honestly, you kind of expected this part-time gig to just be four days of pure chaos that gave you an excuse to see an f1 race up close. then some guy in the fanzone complimented your shoes, and the rest is history. notes: requested by anon!! this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages, sorry love <3 y'all are so brave for putting up with me while i try and remember how tf to write these uhhh yeah this one took a turn hope u like it anyway LMFAO

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 13,024 others

ausgp Arriving in style! The lads looked great at the Melbourne Walk today 🤩🤩

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username1 lewis and zhou are absolutely slaying!! and oscar is also there

ynusername oscar i love you but you gotta step up your game mate, i wanna wear your merch so bad but it is UGLY!!

landonorris excuse me ausgp i think my fit was deserving of recognition in this post :(

ausgp Can't compete with the hometown hero 🤷‍♂️ landonorris but daniel isn't in this either ? oscarpiastri You're funny.

landonorris

liked by mclaren, ausgp, and 811,364 others

landonorris he shoots, he scores! thanks for such a warm welcome melbourne :)

view all 7,023 comments

oscarpiastri You and I have different definitions of scoring I think

landonorris ever heard of playing the long game? oscarpiastri Nurse he's out again

username2 where's the worker with the shoes i think they're indirecting her

username3 GET THIS MAN THE SHOE LADY'S DIGITS

maxfewtrell Now that's just uncalled for

ausgp Love to see the spirit 😉

username4 aww lando always looks so happy in melbourne, he loves it here :'))

ynusername oh wtf

liked by ausgp, yourfriend, and others

ynusername busy busy busy day, absolutely buggered, but very excited for tomorrow 😁 (also peep The Shoes on the last slide)

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yourfriend i mean... he's right, they are sick shoes

ynusername you're just saying that cos you made me buy them yourfriend well yes!

username5 omg are u the girl who was working the fanzone today??

ynusername i was one of them!

username6 ok if this is the shoe lady i don't blame lando for staring she's so pretty omg

yourfriend "the shoe lady" ynusername i've been titled?????

ynusername

liked by yourfriend, landonorris, and others

ynusername weirdest work day ever (included today's shoes bc apparently it's a thing now)

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yourfriend that wrap was good as hell tho

ynusername deffo the most exciting part of lunch

username7 wait who is this girl and why does lando follow her?

username8 go to lovestruckln on twitter, she has a whole thread about it!

landonorris ...weird in a good way, right?

username9 your lack of rizz is astounding lando username10 bro STAND UP ynusername weird in an interesting way landonorris i'll take that

landonorris

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landonorris melb, you have my ❤️

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username11 SHOE GIRLLLLLL

username12 i hope they never hard launch and he just keeps posting pics of cool sneakers

georgerussell63 You're welcome

charles_leclerc You did it, you crazy son of a bitch ausgp Where's our credit?? georgerussell63 You put the pieces in play, I moved them into checkmate ynusername you threw a shoe at me. calm down. ausgp He what???

username13 bro's collecting aussies like infinity stones

danielricciardo ?? oscarpiastri No ynusername :// landonorris 😁😁

ynusername you're cool ig 🙄

landonorris your swag style and utter disdain for me has captured my heart ynusername oh my god stop i'm blushing

tagging: @thearchieves @sheridamn @nikfigueiredo @charlig123456789 @ilove-tswizzle @aandreea2005 @sideboobrry @vellicora @eire-the-egg @marymustdie @cocote1410 @taygrls @koalapastries @vroomvroommuppett @nichmeddar @d3kstar @333kiki @ririyulife @resident-swiftie @zimm04 @jupiter-je-taime @ever_bizzare @clemswrld @hollieeelol @leireggsworld @ironmaiden1313 @lunar-racing @lightninginab0ttle @maddie-naps @bwddermilch @pnkwhskyprncss @landossainz @chaotic_version

request: hiya! i love how funny your smau’s are and i’m begging for an aussie!reader x Lando one. maybe she works for the AusGP and they met in Melbourne? idk -anon

[strang3lov3]

Safety First

While camping, Joel insists on thoroughly checking you for ticks. Safety first, after all. (6.5k)

Tags - smut, dbf!joel (there was no use fighting it for this one) forced proximity, tick checks but it’s just a precaution I promise there’s no ticks involved, enemies to lovers vibes, fingering, oral (f!receiving), edging, unprotected piv, creampie, finger sucking, come eating, implied age gap, reader is description-less apart from one freckle on her buttcheek and also has pubic hair, mild mild dubcon. Fic help - @endlessthxxghts , @beefrobeefcal @noxturnalpascal thank you for helping me get this together 🩷 A/N - This has been sitting for way too long in the drafts and it does feel a little scary to post but the only way out is through ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m working up a pt. 2 to On Display as well as some more stepdaddy roman and some other things <3 thank you for sticking around

enjoy, my fellow freaks <3

You’re not an outdoors person. At all. You hate bugs, you hate being at the mercy of mother earth and whichever type of weather she chooses at any given moment. You hate when it’s too windy, when it’s too cold, when it’s too sunny and hot and you’re sticky and sweaty and uncomfortable. You hate the mess of it all; the mud and the dirt, walking on uneven terrain, taking careful steps so as not to brush up against poison ivy. Not to mention how with each change of the season comes another allergen, whether it be pollen or ragweed or grass. Fucking grass. The earth is covered in it, and there’s no escape. 

Except for the great indoors. Temperature controlled, a simple push of a button makes the air warmer or colder at your will. A flick of a switch makes a room light or dark. Walls protect you from insects and the rain and the harsh rays of the sun. It’s a beautiful thing, and exactly where you’re gonna stay tonight. If only you could get the television to cooperate…

“Would you quit toyin’ with the electronics? You got TV outside. Go see if you can spot a raccoon or somethin’. Thought you loved those critters.” 

You roll your eyes. You were expecting that type of comment to be made by Joel at some point or another. He’s the exact opposite of you, he is an outdoors person. He loves it all - fishing, hiking, golfing. Exposing himself to the elements. 

“I’m not going outside.” 

“Why not?”

“I’m not a nature person,” you tell him plainly. 

Joel scoffs, “God, you’re a diva. And your dad is too, for havin’ a fuckin’ camper like this. And when he gets back, you can tell him Joel said so.” He looks around himself, judging the pristine interior of your dad’s RV. Glamping. That’s what this is. It’s not real camping, not when you’ve got an oven and air conditioning and a bathroom with a shower. The point of camping is to get away from this sort of life, to reconnect with nature. “You too high-society for a tent or somethin’?” 

You turn around to look at Joel, your brows knit in faux-concern. “Wait - Joel, do you hear that?” 

“Hear what, darlin’?” Joel searches for the out of place noise you’re asking about. “I don’t hear anything.”

“It sounds like…” you hum, really putting on an act. “Sounds like this thing called air conditioning. I think it’s after your time, but it’s really neat - when it’s hot outside –”  

Joel interrupts, “Real nice, fuckin’ smartass.” He fights hard to bite down on his smile, to not give you the satisfaction of making him laugh with that zinger. “After my time,” he sneers. “You’re testin’ me. Now c’mon outside with me, let’s get a fire started.” 

“No.” 

“Do it for me,” Joel pleads. “Pretend you like me. Just for tonight, kiddo.” He wears his most charming smile and it shouldn’t work, but it does. 

“Fine,” you concede. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it so you get off my ass.” 

“Atta girl,” Joel stands up from where he sat on the couch, groaning as he stretches. You catch yourself peeking at his tummy, admiring that trail of dark hairs that travel below his belly button and beneath his pants. God, an asshole like Joel does not deserve to look as fucking handsome as he does. Thick arms and thighs, soft tummy. Sparkling chocolate eyes, a sharp aquiline nose. Gentle curls, all dark but painted with streaks of gray. And you, you have absolutely no business being so infatuated with him. 

Joel’s your father’s best friend, and a piece of shit. He’s condescending, arrogant, brash. Your dad always said Joel had a sweet spot for you, but you’re sure that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Joel taught you how to drive a stick shift, which ended with you in tears with the car stalled at the bottom of a hill. He also used to help you with your geometry homework, insistently reminding you that geometry was in fact, not useless. That he uses geometry every day of his life working in construction. Those nights at his kitchen table always ended with you and he at each other’s throats, arguing over the right answers. It didn’t last forever, though. Joel ended up moving a couple hours away, and you grew up. You found yourself missing him on occasion. As much of a dick as he was, he was still an important figure in your life. He offered you advice, let you cry on his shoulder after your first breakup, picked you up from parties you weren’t supposed to be at, no questions asked. Nevertheless, he’s still an ass. He was then, and he is now.

Actually, he’s not even supposed to be here with you right now. This was supposed to be a weekend camping trip with just you and your father, but as your dad was getting the RV in order he received a call from his next-door neighbor. Water was pouring out from his front door, which meant the entire main floor had flooded. You weren’t around for this call, however, as your dad had tasked you with hiking down to the nearby camp store to pick up some ice and some matches. Your dad left a note explaining what had happened and that his theory is that one of his idiot dogs must have turned on a sink or something. He said he was sorry for leaving, and that his old buddy Joel - you remember Joel, don’t you? - lives close by and would stop by with some dinner for you. 

Your heart raced when you read the note. It had been years since you’d last seen Joel, years since he last saw you. You knew nothing of what to expect, if he’d drop the food off and go or if he’d stick around. Your question was quickly answered when Joel pulled up in his truck, a large Aurelio’s pizza in his hands and an overstuffed backpack on his shoulder.  He tapped urgently on the camper door, “Open the door for me, would ya? Pizza’s fuckin’ hot.” 

You let Joel in wordlessly. He placed the pizza on the table, then looked for a spot to put his belongings down. “Hope you don’t mind, hon, but your dad called again and asked that I stay the night. He’s not gonna be back in time and doesn’t wanna leave ya out in the woods on your own.” 

“That’s fine,” you answered. It was quiet then, as you took in Joel and he did the same to you. He’s older now, and so are you. You felt yourself becoming shy as he scanned you up and down. Joel sensed your uncomfortability and cleared his throat, then helped himself to a slice of pizza. “Eat up,” he told you. 

That was hours ago. Early evening, maybe. The awkwardness had worn off as you shared the pizza, and you were back to bickering in no time. And now here you are, out in the trees collecting kindling for a fire. Joel’s closer to the camper, using your dad’s hatchet to chop up some firewood. “Don’t wander too far,” he calls after you. “S’gettin’ dark.” 

You roll your eyes. Like you’d ever go willingly further into the trees. You collect sticks, listening to the sounds of nature. Crickets, an animal rustling in the leaves. If there weren’t mosquitos biting your legs right now, you’d almost enjoy this. Almost. 

When you feel you’ve collected a sufficient amount of sticks, you bring it back to Joel at the campsite. Joel inspects your pile, “Looks good t’me,” he says. “Why don’t you go look for some s’mores stuff inside, I’ll get the fire started.”

You go back into the camper and browse the pantry, finding some two months expired Jet-Puffed marshmallows and some graham crackers. No chocolate, though. You opt instead for some Keebler fudge stripe cookies you packed instead and bring the ingredients out to Joel. “No chocolate,” you tell him. “Does this work?”

“Oh, s’perfect. Changes the game, actually,” he says excitedly, his eyebrows perking in excitement. “You’re a genius.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. Joel sits down in one of the camping chairs, you sit at the one next to him. He finds the campfire skewers resting against the side of the RV and cleans them off in the growing fire he’s started in the firepit, then puts two marshmallows on one end, twirling them over the flame. “How toasty would you like your marshmallow, darlin’?”

“Barely,” you answer. “Like, don’t let it touch the flame.” 

“That’s asinine,” Joel replies. “Gotta give it more color than that. ‘Sposed to be on fire.” 

“No, thank you. That’s disgusting. Just golden brown, please.” 

“Golden brown. I can work with golden brown,” Joel says. He holds the marshmallow over the flame, careful not to let it touch, just like you asked. A small movement across his hand captures his attention, though. “What the…”

“What is it, Joel?”

“It’s…” Joel studies his hand, his attention now focused on a little bug crawling across it. The marshmallows on the skewer become entirely burnt, melting into the firepit as Joel tries to identify the bug. “Oh, fuck.” 

“What?”

Joel sets down the skewers and carefully shows you the bug on his hand. Teeny tiny, almond shaped, eight legs. “That’s a fuckin’ tick. He’s lookin for a place to burrow.” 

You make a repulsed face as Joel flicks the parasite into the fire. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ bastard. Must’ve fallen on me when we were collectin’ wood. God bless it,” he groans. “Inside. We need to check for more.” 

You pout. “Really?”

“Really,” Joel answers. “Try not to look so excited. It’s only a couple ‘a minutes. We’ll make new s’mores when we’re done.”

You get out of your chair and Joel holds the camper door open for you, letting you inside first. He follows suit, only after dumping some water on the fire. He’s got enough dry wood to start a new one when you come back out there. You sit on the couch and Joel joins you, then pulls off his t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, using his fingers to search for anything that feels like it’s not supposed to be there. He turns away from you, “Check my neck and back for me, first,” he says. “Please.” 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Joel’s half naked in front of you, and you’re tasked with searching his body. Every goddamn inch. It’s going to be fucking torture. “Okay,” you breathe.

You hesitantly reach for his shoulders and pull them back slightly to urge him to sit up straighter, then push his curls away from his neck. Joel shivers slightly with your touch. You inspect the nape of his neck, then one shoulder, then the other. He’s so fucking broad, his shoulders miles wide. Joel senses your timidity as you gingerly touch him, “Need somethin’ from me? Want me to lean forward a little?”

“Uhm…yeah - yes,” you whisper. 

Joel leans forward to allow you to search the expanse of his back for any ticks. Thankfully, you’re coming up empty. Just all of Joel’s tan, smooth skin, all for you to touch and examine under the warm glow of the lights. You find yourself mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of his torso with every breath he takes, the silvery stretch marks by his hips. His skin is so warm under the palms of your hands, all you can think about is touching, feeling, scratching him. His voice interrupts you from your thoughts, “You done?”

“Mhm.” 

Joel sits up and turns in your direction. “Front side, now,” he says. He’s looking right at you as you search his chest, just in case you see something he can’t. He holds out his arms one at a time for you to inspect and turn over, then raises them for you to check his underarms. When you’re finished, Joel stands up and unbuckles his belt. You swallow thickly. 

“I know. M’not thrilled either, hon, but they do like to hide in the more…private areas of the body.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Joel says. “Oh.” 

You avert your eyes as he pulls off both his jeans and boxers, covering his member with his two hands. “I can do my…you don’t have to check that out. But –”

“Your ass.” 

“My ass,” Joel sighs. “And legs. ‘Specially the back of ‘em, where I can’t see.” 

“Got it.” 

This couldn’t be more…god. Joel’s awkwardly covering himself with two hands, his head tilted back and looking at the ceiling. He turns around for you to check his backside and luckily there’s nothing, just his plump ass. If you were a better woman, you wouldn’t be thinking of squeezing it right now. Fuck. He’s so hot like this, completely nude and on display for you. His legs are so long and muscular, his tummy is soft and pillowy. 

You’re so quiet. God, Joel feels terrible for putting you through this. You must be so uncomfortable, but ticks are not worth rolling the dice on. Disgusting parasites. He decides to break the tension. “You remember my brother Tommy, don’tcha?”

Tommy. Younger than Joel, just as handsome. You didn’t see him as much as you saw Joel growing up, but you know him. “Yeah, sure. I remember Tommy.”

“Right. Well, Tommy knows all about ticks in places they ain’t ‘sposed to be.” 

“Oh?”

Joel turns around for you to check his thighs, then the front of his legs. “Mhm,” he says. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything. He’d kill me for tellin’ ya.”

“No, no - tell me.” 

“Keep it to yourself. Don’t let him know I told ya,” Joel warns, then clears his throat before speaking. “Well,” Joel begins, “It’s Tommy’s senior year of high school right after graduation. His class goes campin’, right? Tommy meets up with a girl, things start to heat up.” 

“Right.”

“Right. You know where this is goin’. Clothes are comin’ off, they’re gettin’ handsy. And this girl feels somethin’ she ain’t supposed to on his uh…on his member.”

You gasp, “No.” 

“Tommy pulls out his flashlight and lo and behold…”

“Tick on his dick.”

“Tick on his dick,” Joel confirms. “Fully buried, and all full of blood. I don’t even know how he was able to get it up, truth be told.” 

“You’re joking. Joel, that’s fucking disgusting. Tell me you’re joking.” 

Joel looks down at you, his lips pressed together as he tries to stifle his laughter and shakes his head. In between gasps and giggles, Joel explains, “He made the poor girl drive him to the ER cause he was a faintin’ mess. I met ‘em both there. I was there when Tommy was explainin’ it all to the nurse, this little old lady. And she said somethin’ about his dick bein’ ribbed for her pleasure or somethin’ like that, fuckin’ riot of a woman. Oh god, I’d never seen him so red in my life,” he wipes a stray tear of laughter from his eye, then goes right back to laughing. 

You’re giggling with Joel. The way he tells the story, like he’s right back in the ER with Tommy tells you he’s being truthful. His eyes crinkle as he laughs.

“So then what happened?” 

“Well, Tommy ended up alright,” Joel says. “Poor girl never spoke to him again, though. Didn’t take long for rumors to start spreadin’, his friends all called him ‘Tommy Tick Dick’. He enlisted in the army shortly after that.” 

“Oh, did he?” 

“He was a real patriot, and there was nothin’ else to it,” Joel exaggerates the sentence as if he’s mocking Tommy. “Or so he says,” he adds. 

“So he says.” 

By the time Joel’s finished the story, you’re long done with his tick check. He puts on his boxer shorts and sits on the couch next to you, both of you still chuckling. “Alright, your turn.” 

“What do you mean, my turn?” 

“You were in the woods too, right? And longer than I was. You’re at more of a risk. I need’a check you, now.” 

“Oh, no thank you.” 

It’s not that you don’t trust Joel or anything like that. But Joel doesn’t need to know how turned on you are just from seeing and feeling his naked body. It’d be so obvious - he’d see your hard nipples and your arousal-soaked panties. And it’d only worsen as he touches you, his warm, masculine hands traveling over your body as he carefully searches every inch of your skin. On no planet would you expect him to be a gentleman about it, either. You know he’d tease you in one way or another, get some sort of sick satisfaction out of knowing how you really feel about him, deep down inside. 

“Yeah, nice try,” he says. “You got two choices: you can let me check ya for ticks now while it’s still easy, or you can wait until one’s buried in your skin and suckin’ your blood. I’d suggest the former.” 

He makes a compelling argument. “Former,” you agree, no questions about it. You can’t stand when a fly lands on you, or when an ant crawls across your foot. The thought of a tick in your…you’re not even going there. You’re gonna puke. 

“I’ll make it quick,” Joel assures. “Promise ya.”

Joel helps you to undress. He holds the sleeves of your hoodie as you pull your arms out of them, then pulls the garment off of you entirely, leaving you in just your bra. “Ready?” he asks, gently toying with the strap. 

“Mhm.” 

His fingers feel like pure electricity as they skate along your skin, he unclasps your bra and lets it fall to your lap. Instinctually, you cover your chest and turn away from him to allow him to check your skin. Just like you did to him, he checks your neck and shoulders first, his warm breaths fanning over you. His hands travel down your spine as he pushes you down, exposing more of your body for him to search. He traces over every mark, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he does. “You’re good. Come and face me, now,” he whispers. “Won’t bite ya.” 

You turn your body in Joel’s direction, still covering yourself. He holds your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb, turning your head back and to the side so he can check your throat, and then your collarbones. Joel reaches for your wrist and pulls it toward his body, stretching your arm out for him to turn over and inspect. He does the same with your other arm, patient as you adjust the way you cover yourself. His eyes widen slightly when you accidentally expose yourself, but you don’t seem to notice your mistake. 

“Stand up for me, now. Lemme check the rest.” 

He looks at the wall as you shimmy off your shorts, but leave your panties on. Fuck, you can feel how wet you are, that little awful mess between your thighs. You stand in front of him, arms still crossed over your chest. “Gimme a leg,” Joel murmurs, and you lift one leg and he sets your foot on the couch next to his thigh. He keeps one hand on your hip, holding you steady as he scans your thigh, turning your leg to the side so he can check your calves. He helps you back to two feet, then repeats the process with your other leg. “Good. Almost done, kiddo. You’re doin’ fine.” 

You turn around for him to check your backside, make sure nothing’s hanging out where it’s not supposed to be. “Just gonna move this to the side…” Joel says, carefully pulling the elastic of your panties out of the way. His fingers grace over the swell of your ass, as he quickly checks one side, then does the same thing to the other side. “Wait a sec–”

Your heart stops. “What?”

“Oh, you have got to be shittin’ me.” 

“Joel–”

“Get on the couch and lay on your stomach. Hurry, do it now.” 

You lay on your stomach on the couch, Joel picks up both of your legs and pulls your body until your ass is right on his lap. “Sorry, kiddo. Just bein’ thorough, here.” Your heart pounds as he moves your panties to the side and gingerly prods at an area on your ass cheek, right where it meets your thigh. Just millimeters away from where you need him most, where you’re dripping for him…

“Oh, thank Christ. False alarm. Just a freckle or birthmark or somethin’ back here,” Joel sighs in relief. But for you, relief never comes. Joel’s hand stays on your ass, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your skin. With each pass, he’s getting closer to your pussy, but still achingly far from it. “You’re clean.” 

“O-oh.”

Joel hears the uncertainty in your tone. “You alright there, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you answer. 

“You can put your clothes back on now.” 

Joel waits. It’s as if he said nothing at all, the way you ignore his suggestion. He finds it a little interesting that you won’t move, how you seem cozy on his lap. And in fact, you’re sighing, sort of inching your way closer to him. 

“Hon?”

“Hmm?”

“You gonna get dressed with me?”

“Mhm.”  

You’ve lost all subtlety. Joel notices that you’re arching your back, sort of rocking yourself on him. Trying to nudge his fingers just a little lower. You’re successful, and Joel feels the damp cotton of your panties on the tips of his fingertips and realizes, “Ohh. I get it,” he mumbles, chuckling. “You’re not bein’ subtle, you know.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you lie. The first words out of your mouth that aren’t a lazy, quiet moan or hum of pleasure.

“Neither am I.”

Joel had an inkling that something like this was going on with you. He saw how your eyes wandered over his body, how your pupils went wide at the sight of his body. He could practically hear the thoughts in your brain, but he bit his tongue. Maybe he was wrong, maybe you were just nervous. It’d make sense. But he’d bit his tongue before, when all those years ago he helped maneuver your belongings in his truck to your college dorm. You fell asleep in the passenger seat next to him, your sleepy breaths turned to quiet whimpers of his name in your sleep as you squeezed your thighs together. Joel never mentioned it to you, wanting to protect you from the embarrassment. But he heard his name clear as day. 

He wonders how much longer you’ll keep this up for, writhing on his lap, never asking him for what you want. Joel knows exactly why, too. You’ve got some sort of reputation to uphold, you can never give him the satisfaction of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you like him. Even if it’s just sexual, born out of nothing but need for pleasure - pure, stupid pleasure. 

“You can just ask f’ya want somethin’ from me,” Joel encourages. “S’all you gotta do.”  To Joel’s amusement, you stay quiet. You’re really not doing yourself any sort of favors. “Not gonna?”

“No.” 

“Ah, she speaks. So you’re not gonna ask for nothin’, not gonna tell me what you want?” Joel moves your panties to the side and rests his fingers against your center, all hot and dripping with need. “C’mon, now.”

You’re fighting against yourself. You know this, know that if you so much as lean into his touch a little more than you should that technically, you’re compliant - you’re docile, you’re willing. You’ll lose the game - a game where your only opponent is yourself, yet Joel wins all the same. 

“Got no good reason to be stubborn about this,” he purrs. He slides both hands over the swell of your ass and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, then pulls them down your thighs and off your legs. He parts your legs and cups your mound, toying with the hair there before dipping his fingers between your lips, humming in delight when he feels the considerable pool of arousal at your core. You’re fucking soaked, and despite this, you still won’t say a word. You just whimper and wiggle against him. “F’ya don’t ask, you don’t receive. You wanna keep makin’ things difficult for yourself?”

It’s a warning, but he’s giving you an out. You prop yourself up on your elbows, then turn your head and look over your shoulders at Joel. He searches your face and waits for you to speak, but you don’t. Of course you don’t, because you’re hellbent on giving Joel any shred of pride about this, the fact he’s got you in his lap and melting under your touch. It’s all futile, though. He can see it on your face, your wide eyes and your open mouth, practically salivating as you watch him stroke your folds gently, so gently. Joel smiles, unashamed of the pleasure he’s getting out of this.  

“You know what’d happen if you used your words? F’ya told me that ya want me?”

“What?” 

“Well,” Joel says, dipping two fingers into your slick entrance. He pushes them in slowly, letting you feel the way his knuckles stretch your pussy. He pulls them out almost all the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, then pushes back in. He continues, “I’d give you the lovin’ I know you need. Make you come however you’d like, however much you’d like. Would that be so terrible?” 

You whimper as he begins to curl his fingers, “Joel.” 

“I know you’re tempted, sweetheart. It’s yours if you want it.” 

Last chance. He’d make good on his promise, you can see it in his eyes, all dark with lust and wide with excitement. You can feel it in his touch, the intent to bring you nothing but pleasure evident in how he strokes you. But maybe you don’t need to be loved right now, maybe you’d prefer to be used. To feel him indulge himself in your cunt, feel his selfishness in the way he fucks you, and never allow him the satisfaction of making you come. You win the game this way.  

“Other option is, we do things my way. Couldn’t quite tell you yet exactly what that entails, though…so weigh your risk and reward carefully.” Joel warns. “Last call, darlin’. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Joel waits for you to object, but you never do. Game restarted, ignited by the way you settle in his lap, your silent way of telling him your body is for him to use as he pleases. “Alright, then. My way it is.” 

Joel curls his fingers rhythmically in your cunt, brushing against that sweet spot inside of you. He groans, loving those slick, wet noises your cunt makes for him as he admires your body laid out on his lap, all of that soft, smooth skin of yours is just for him. You squirm as he touches you, biting down on your moans and letting him only hear quiet sighs of pleasure. 

As quickly as it begins, it’s over. Joel pulls his fingers from you and you whine in disappointment. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Joel asks, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, just–” 

Joel wraps both of his big, masculine hands over your waist and pushes you further up the seat of the couch so that you’re not laid across his lap any longer. He kneels behind you and looks around for something - pillow, clothes, blanket - he tugs on a removable couch cushion and you look over your shoulder in curiosity. 

“Then don’t you worry about what I’m doin’ back here,” he says. “Eyes forward.” 

You turn back around, excitement bubbling in your lower stomach. Joel taps your hip, “Lift up for me, kiddo,” he urges, and you lift your hips. He slides a pillow under them, propping your ass up for him. He lays on his tummy, and it’s a rather tight fit on the couch of the camper but he doesn’t mind. 

Joel nudges your thighs apart a little and harshly squeezes the flesh of your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart, finally getting a picture-perfect view of your cunt, all glistening with ribbons of your creamy arousal. He can see the muscles twitch, your hole puckering as you await his touch. “You made a mess,” he murmurs, sliding the pad of his thumb through your slick folds. He collects your arousal on his fingertips and lunges forward, his body covering yours and brings those fingers to your lips and pushes them into your mouth. You can feel his hard cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, Joel grinding himself against your ass as you suck his fingers clean, you hum at the taste. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and gets right back into position, his knees cracking as he does, spreading you out again so that he can bury his face in your pussy. He does exactly that, pressing a kiss to your slick, warm center, dragging his tongue up higher until he reaches your asshole. You gasp when Joel spits on it and circles the muscle with his tongue, fuck, he really is doing things his way. He rounds your tight hole, all wet and sloppy before he dips his tongue inside, causing you to squirm at the unfamiliar sensation. He finishes the job with a couple of kisses there, kisses that travel lower and lower until he reaches your pussy once again. 

The little sigh of relief you breathe out when Joel’s lips reach the area you need him most is not lost on him, and he smirks against you. He kisses your pussy, loving the way your slick, soft cunt feels against his lips, against his face. Joel inhales you, the scent of your sweet arousal. He hopes that later, he’ll smell your essence on his mustache and be reminded of this moment here with you, and he’ll be hard all over again. He’ll stroke his cock and think of your cunt, groaning your name as he spills into his own hand. But for now, he focuses on you. 

He uses a pointed tongue to trace along the length of your folds, up and down, up and down until his it rests against your slick hole. He dips inside and tastes your honeyed arousal, he finds your heady, musky flavor so addicting. He could spend forever here, that perfect, warm, private space between your thighs. 

Joel finds himself torn between wanting to eat you the way he should and the way he wants to. He vacillates between savoring you, loving your soft, wet cunt and the way he can make you grind on his face, even if it’s just slightly, and devouring you whole, sucking your sensitive bud to make your legs shake and causing you to pull away from him - he knows it’s too much too fast. Joel settles on the latter of the two manners. His tongue laving over your pussy, lips wrapped around your clit is not something he does for you, but to you. It’s all for him, after all. There’s passion and determination, and he means to love you, please you. But it devolves, it’s all aggression, fingernails digging into your flesh and bruising you almost like he could strip your bones of it. 

He’s getting ahead of himself. If his scruff were shorter, he’d be rubbing you raw, and you almost wish he could. Joel wishes to smell and taste you later, you yearn to feel him on your skin just the same. You’d feel your tender inner thighs ache when you sit down and when you shower, the lather of your soap making your skin burn. You’d remember the weight of his hands holding your ass in place, the pressure of his tongue lapping your folds. You reach behind yourself, searching for something, any part of him to hold onto. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at those graying curls as you bite into the flesh of your own thumb. 

“J- fuck, oh my god.” 

You’re moaning, unable to help yourself. Getting close, you attempt to pull away from Joel, seeking to limit your own pleasure so as not to come on his tongue. 

“Don’t you run from me,” Joel mumbles, pulling you right back in. He keeps you held still, so secure in his grip that you can’t writhe and squirm away from or toward him. “You’re gonna take it,” he tells you. You’re gonna feel his sharp, big nose tease your ass, feel his tongue lapping at your sensitive clit. Joel eats you like he’s starved and you’re the first meal he’s seen in days, steaming hot and ready for him to sink his teeth into. 

You’re seeing stars. It takes all the mental focus you have not to come on his tongue, not to give him that reward. Joel finds it all amusing, you won’t even let yourself moan. He can hear that you’re trying to, but you’re swallowing your own noises and whimpering into your skin. Your thighs twitch with your impending release, and Joel tries his hardest to push you over the edge. But Joel’s only a man, and when his jaw and his tongue begin to tire he relents, pulling away from your body only in minor defeat. “You might’a won the battle,” he says, biting your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. “But you’re losin’ the war. I ain’t finished with you yet.” 

Joel kneels behind you, then spreads your thighs apart with one of his knees. “Nice an’ wide,” he instructs. He groans as he pushes the waistband of his boxers down his thighs, his leaking and rock hard cock springing free. He spits in his hand and pumps it a couple times, coating his member in his own saliva before he leans lower, lower, until the blunt head of his cock is nudging against your core. One of his arms is bent and hovering near your head as notches himself inside you, then pulls out, only to push himself back in slightly. He chuckles when you squirm, arching your back in attempt to take more than what he’s giving you. “Easy, easy,” he purrs. “You’re hellbent against comin’ for me anyway, so what’s with the rushin’?”

“Joel,” you whine. 

“Oh, I know…” Joel groans as he buries himself into you fully, that slow, slide inside your body has him biting his lower lip. You’re so tight, and Joel knows you’re loving that ache, that stretch and burn of his thick cock splitting you open. “Got you figured out, you know. I know why you’re doin’ this,” he grunts, pulling out of you all the way. He pushes back inside you, “You think you’re provin’ a point.” 

“Joel, I’m -”

“You don’t have to like me, sweetheart, but I know you like how I make ya feel. It’s allowed, baby. This don’t have to mean nothin’ else.” 

You don’t answer him. Not that you could, anyway. He’s building a steady pace, fucking you so deeply and so intentional. His motions are fluid, his cock hitting you in all the right places. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his warm body moving against yours, and you’re losing yourself in him, moaning and babbling nonsense. You reach for his hand in front of you and bring it to your mouth, then suck and nibble on two of his thick fingers. Fuck, you can taste yourself on his skin. 

Joel likes this, the feeling of your lips and tongue and teeth on his fingers. He knows you’re trying to pacify yourself, quiet your noises as if by doing so, you could push away the pleasure building deep inside you. The attempt only serves to egg him on, fuck you harder, faster. He slides a hand under your tummy and his fingers find your clit, the weight of his body on yours and the pillow under your abdomen aids him to achieve a perfect angle to stimulate and massage your sensitive bud. “Oh, there it is. You’re in for it now, kiddo.” 

It works like a charm. You gag on his fingers, slobbering as Joel fucks you. All you can do is take it, take the pleasure that he creates with you between stuttering hips and writhing bodies. It’s quickly becoming too much, release is inevitable as Joel fills you up over and over and over. You can’t stave it off much longer, not when you can hear the lewd, obscene noises of you cunt gushing on his cock and Joel, with his grunting, moaning. “Fuck, sweetheart. Goddamn.” Hot tears begin to spill down your cheeks, dampening his skin and Joel knows, oh how he knows how hard this is for you, you poor thing. He’ll soothe you if you’ll let him. “Come on, hon. Let go for me.” he urges. “You’re gonna come for me.” 

There’s no choice in the matter anymore, and you realize this. Nowhere to run and hide. You can feel your clit grinding against the calloused pads of Joel’s thick fingers and it’s only a matter of time. Tears are falling freely now, and Joel pulls his hand away from your mouth to wipe them off your skin. “You’re fine,” he says. “You can take it.” 

Joel manages to pull the hood of your clit back a little, making it all that much more sensitive as he rolls his hips into you. Your desperate moans and your squirming beneath him fills him with amusement. He admires your determination, how exhausting this must be for you. 

It’s just a few seconds of Joel painting your clit with tight and steady circles as he thrusts into you repeatedly. Release is right around the corner, you know it and so does Joel. There’s an intense, fiery and electric pleasure building deep in your gut, threatening to spill over. You feel it trickling down your thighs, traveling up your spine and when you gasp sharply, Joel knows you’re coming. “There it is,” he praises. “Oh, there you are. Good girl, good girl. I know that feels good.” 

He fucks you through your orgasm and even well past its departure so that you’re not sure where your climax begins and ends. It’s an overwhelming feeling, the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever felt before, intensified by his sloppy and stuttering thrusts as he finds his own release. You sigh as you feel him empty himself into you, dick twitching against your walls, his hot come paints your insides and fills you with a deep and satisfying warmth. 

Joel slows down, then stills completely as you both catch your breath. He pulls out of you with a grunt, watching the mess of his come and yours spill onto the fabric beneath your body. He pushes it back inside you, then brings his fingers to your lips. When you suck his fingers clean of the spend, he kisses your temple and scoops you into his arms, trailing his fingers up and down your spine. He can feel your satisfaction in your limp body, the way you relax into him. Joel chooses not to tease you for losing the game. 

After quiet moments pass, Joel hears you giggling to yourself. “Hey, you,” he says. “What’s so funny?”

“Tommy Tick Dick,” you answer.

 Joel giggles with you, his eyes crinkling and sparkling with his laughter. “Oh, I’m goin’ to hell for that.” 

“What, for laughing? I’m laughing, too.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’m the one who started callin’ him Tommy Tick Dick.” 

-

i'd like to share with you a poem written by @beefrobeefcal about this fic.

tick on his dick little nibbly friend chomping on down on tommy's bell end

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