#will use it regardless probably but i will tag any post from now on with queer in it as a tw

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

one reason i'm grateful a) to have been getting into treating my meta as An Art Form as much as fanfic/art/etc, and b) that there's an import function for that on AO3, is that i write very little prose these days, and Actually Having Substantial Things to Post helps me get past the stumbling block of 'well there's nothing much worth going to the trouble for anyway, is there' to the 'alright let's address all the other baggage that makes using AO3 so emotionally fraught for you bud' step (staircase.)

[farfromstrange]

Enduring | Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Warnings: Angst, chronic (lower abdominal) pain, mentions of spotting (blood), self-loathing, allusions to Doctors Not Listening To Patients With A Uterus, health anxiety (warranted), non-sexual intimacy, hurt/comfort, self-indulgent, not proof-read

Summary: You’ve been experiencing chronic lower abdominal pain for years regardless of the point in your menstrual cycle. Some days, it’s worse than others, but when the first heatwave of the year hits New York City and you have another flare-up, your day takes a sudden turn for the worse. Thankfully, Matt is there to comfort you in any way he can.

WC: 3k

A/n: Even though I tagged my tag list, don't read if this could be triggering to you! So, I know pain is a very sensitive subject and everyone experiences it differently. I used my personal experience with pain and chasing a diagnosis to write this. That doesn’t mean it’s the only experience. Lower abdominal pain can have many causes, which is why advice from a medical professional is often necessary. That being said, I know how hard it can be to have been born into a female body and be treated like my pain is worth less for whatever reason just because I was born female. There is no shame in standing up for yourself in a man’s world that completely disregards women’s health. I had to learn it the hard way to the point it has taken a toll on my mental health, so I just needed to write a little comfort piece for my own peace of mind before my appointment on Monday. I wrote this for the sake of getting it out of my system, meaning it’s probably not perfect, but if you can relate to what I said in any way, feel free to read it and make up your own mind. (I will not be posting this on AO3 for now. I hope you can forgive me for that.)

Matt always knows when something is wrong with you. 

Sometimes, he can smell it. Other times, it’s the way you taste when you kiss him or the sweat that clings to your skin, or when he goes down on you and your essence is slightly tangier than it was the day before. 

Matt knows when you’re ovulating because the changes in your hormones make him go crazier than he already is for you, and he is familiar with the metallic scent of blood when you’re on your period. He can tell when you start sweating more often, when your muscles tense up more than usual, or when you are slightly more emotional. He knows before you even do because he has to. 

You are miserable almost every day, really, but more often than not it happens around the time of your period. So, he pays close attention to the signs. When the painkillers stop working, or when you get more tired, or when you stop moving around as much. When you tell him you’re fine even though he can feel the muscles of your abdomen tensing under his touch when he hugs you. When he can tell you have been crying and he wasn’t there to help. He has to know because you need him. 

You’re not entirely dependent on him, of course; you have lived on your own before and while it was hell, you pushed through somehow. With him, you don’t have to be alone on the days you can’t get out of bed because the pain keeps you locked in a fetal position, or on the days you have to cower on the bathroom floor until you’re too weak to move. Matt has reached a point of knowing you where his four working senses don’t play much of a role in telling what kind of a day you’re having; he just knows. 

Tonight, he senses it when he comes through the door after work, finally escaping the raging heat from the streets that made him feel like he was dying on the commute home. He instantly loosens his tie to get some air into his lungs, feeble fingers working desperately to free himself, but it doesn’t take a second longer for him to realize something is wrong. It is nothing but a mere hunch—some kind of aura that emits from somewhere in the apartment that makes the hairs on his arms stand up. He calls your name, frantically searching for your heartbeat. Through the rattling of the fridge as it tries to keep up with the rising temperatures inside, he makes out the rapid drumming of your heart against your ribcage. If you’re not dizzy yet, he thinks, you soon will be. 

Upon hearing you huff from the kitchen floor, Matt doesn’t hesitate tossing his bag mindlessly into the nearest corner, followed by his keys before he makes his way to find you. He’s overheated, itchy, and sweating through his clothes, but not anywhere near as desperate as he is to get to you. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks.

Hearing the sound of his voice, you realize that what felt like five minutes must have been hours spent on the cool kitchen floor. You can’t even remember how you got there. The hours have blended into minutes, the tiles digging into your sweat-coated skin. You’re curled up in a ball, wearing nothing but one of Matt’s loosest shirts. You couldn’t stand the feeling of a waistband around your stomach, so you took your pants off, changing into the oldest pair of cotton underwear you could find. It’s all soaked by now, and part of you wonders if you did finally get your period or if your pores just decided to drench you for the fun of it. 

Everything hurts. Your muscles are tense, yet at the same time they are so incredibly weak, you don’t react when the front door opens. He’s worried, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It is as though the pain has made you entirely apathetic, coiling in your lower stomach and spreading into your legs like a parasite. All you can do is succumb to it. 

Matt’s feet come into view. The purple cast of the billboard outside falls upon him, painting the shadow of a halo above his head. It’s ironic, really; the man you love as your knight in shining armor, a Catholic looking like an angel in artificial neon light. 

His gentle voice reaches for you, “What’re you doing on the floor?”

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay because he knows it is futile, but even that question you don’t know how to answer. What are you doing on the dirty kitchen floor?

You clear your throat, trying to sound nonchalant when you answer, “It’s too hot up there.”

He crouches down. “Just too hot?”

You sigh. “No.”

It was a good day until it wasn’t, and then you were in pain again and all the days you spent feeling a little more like yourself are suddenly gone with the wind. The tears wrap a noose around your neck for the second time today, your eyes burning with faint resistance. Every time you think it gets better, it gets worse again. And every time you try to pretend that maybe things are looking up for you and it isn’t as endless of a pit as you thought, the exact opposite proves itself. You’re tired; you’re in pain and you’re tired and you feel so silly for letting it dim the light Natt pointed out a few days ago that he had so deeply missed, but there is only so much hope you can have.  

This isn’t the first time he has found you like this, but it truly never gets easier. Hearing the strain in your voice, the quiver in your entire being as you try to catch your breath, telling yourself not to fucking cry. It never gets easier to know how much you beat yourself up for something that isn’t your fault. Because the doctors that were supposed to listen failed you, and now the road to relief is paved with bricks you can barely climb over. You are on your way now, finally, but the future is still not certain. In the end though, what kills him the most is that he can’t help you. 

Matt reaches out, his hand shaking as he aimlessly brushes his fingers over your forehead. “Cramps?” he says.

You nod weakly. 

“Since when?”

“I don’t know,” you confess, and that is when the glass overflows. 

With a click of his tongue, he wipes the first of your tears away. His brown eyes bore into your soul, completely bare in front of him. Your body is like a complex crafted melody only he knows how to decipher.  

The tears quickly form a barrier between you and the tiles. Matt tilts his head. The faintest hint of copper clings to your skin. “Did you get your period?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Just… some spotting.”

“Explains the blood.”

He is way too nonchalant about it, you think. The way he accepts your version of normal even though you feel like a failure trapped in a body that refuses to work like it is supposed to.

“How’d you get here?” he asks again, his voice so soft you want nothing more than to hide your face from him and cry some more. 

He refuses to let you go, gripping your chin to the point it almost hurts. “I was trying to do the dishes and then–” a broken sob gets stuck in your throat. “It hurts and it’s hot, and I can’t breathe.”

He gently cradles your face in his hands. “I know,” he says like he can read your mind. And maybe he can.

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “I couldn’t stand anymore, so I laid down. On the floor,” you tell him. “I just… I didn’t get anything done today.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“It does. I–”

He cuts you off, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t. I can wash the dishes, but I can’t replace you.”

His dedication hurts. You used to be called sensitive and not worth the drama, but with him, you count, and that hurts because you are barely hanging on by a fragile thread. You don’t know how to ever give back to him what he has given you. The countless nights you patched him up after he got his ass handed to him do not seem to matter much compared to what he does for you. 

He studies your erratic heartbeat for a moment. “You want a heating pad?” he offers. 

You physically cringe at the thought of a hot water bottle when the entire city could function as one, and you are quick to deny, “Too hot.”

Matt chuckles. “Yeah, I figured.” He brushes a damp strand of hair away from your face. “Have you taken anything yet? Advil? Naproxen?”

You growl. “You know none of the pills they gave me fucking work!” 

He doesn’t seem deterred by your tone. All he does is smile softly at you, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin.

“I know,” he says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, nothing’s helping,” you retort. 

“That why you’re lying on the floor?” 

Another tear rolls down your cheek and past your cracked lips. “I told you. Nothing helps.”

Snapping at him for only trying to care may be petty of you, but there is nothing you loathe more than feeling so utterly helpless. 

Matt moves closer, your words pearling off of him like he is made of stone. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Can I try something else?”

The voice in your head is screaming, what else is there to do? You are tired of trying everything and nothing ever working. Two more weeks until you will meet with a new doctor, but those two weeks might actually kill you. That’s what it feels like, anyway. 

He sighs, “C’mere.” Without another word from you, Matt slides his arms under your sticky frame and lifts you off the ground. His skin offers a stark contrast from the cold kitchen tiles, but he’s clean, and he smells like home. Not this place, not this city, but him. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Bathroom,” is all he tells you. 

Your brain is too slow to even dare protest. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on unsteady legs. 

“May I?” he asks. You nod, but even as he pulls his shirt over your head, he doesn’t once let go of you. 

You close your eyes. The pain in your abdomen is dull yet searing. You try to focus on anything else, but just when you think it’s getting better, it breaks through again, burning through you like a wildfire on the blade of a hot knife. And that makes you sad. It makes you so sad and angry you don’t know what to do with yourself. You want to scream and cry and tear the apartment apart, but you’re exhausted and tired and you know that if this pain keeps rippling through you, you might fall apart. 

You hate when he sees you like this. When you’re falling apart and there’s nothing either of you can do, and you blame yourself even though there is nothing to blame yourself for. Matt knows that. You sometimes wonder if you are a burden to him and he just won’t tell you because he doesn’t know when to stop. To stop caring, to stop helping, to stop trying to change everything. But then again, he has always told you that loving you isn’t a burden. If you get lost in the what ifs, you might actually fall apart.    

“I’m gonna start a cool bath,” Matt murmurs next to you, snapping you out of your thoughts with his gentle baritone of a voice. “Just stay here.” 

You nod weakly, too exhausted to argue. The thought of immersing yourself in cool water, even for a few minutes, seems like a small mercy. 

Water starts to run in the distance. His belt hits the floor, followed by the fabric clinging to his skin. You’re afraid you might get dizzy if you open your eyes. Dizzy because of the pain. Dizzy because of him. 

The cabinet behind you rattles when he reaches for it. “Claire gave them to me, but you took these before,” he says, skillfully working on the cap of an orange capsule. “They’re a bit stronger than Advil.”

You don’t protest, you simply let him place one of the pills in the palm of your hand. He is right behind you with his hand on your waist when you take them, swallowing with a handful of water. There’s nothing sexual in the way he touches you, just a tenderness born from years of knowing each other’s bodies inside and out. 

Maybe that is why you could never be a burden to him; he has felt like one for most of his life, and the last thing he wants is for his love to feel the same way. And he needs you to remind him that he is everything to you, too, his hands never wavering when they find your skin. You’re his lifeline as much as he is yours.

The cold water hits the inside of the bathtub, pattering down like raindrops on a windowpane. Matt gently tugs you closer to him and guides you toward the tub. At first, when he lifts you in, the cool water is a shock to your overheated skin, but it doesn’t take long for you to welcome the change in temperature. 

He eases you between his legs once he is sat, your back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. His hands come to rest on your lower stomach, close enough to allow you to pull your legs up to your chest. It’s the only position that doesn’t hurt. 

You remember nights spent crammed in the same position, not because of you but because of his nightmares. The roles were reversed then. When it’s too hot outside, he needs the world on fire to burn a little less bright. Today, you finally realize what he must feel like on days like these. 

“How’s that?” he asks, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod. “Better,” you whisper. Better isn’t perfect, but the pain is just dull now, and the gentle movement of his fingers against your sore muscles lulls you into a state where you can breathe. It’s not perfect, but it is as good as it gets. 

Your head falls back against his collarbone. “Thank you,” your voice is barely above a whisper when you tell him.

He shushes you, lips moving to your temple. The gesture is supposed to say, don’t thank me. But it feels wrong not to. 

You lift your head enough to look at him, finally, your eyes fluttering open to look back into his hazel orbs. “Matt…” 

“Yeah?” he breathes. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” you confess. It’s a truth you’ve grappled with, the stark realization that his presence has become indispensable. It is a burden, to be loved so fiercely, as much as it is an addiction. Because a life without him seems like a sheer impossibility you don’t ever want to face again. 

Matt holds his lips against your skin, smiling. “Good thing you never have to find out, hm?”

You chuckle weakly. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm.”

“What if you get sick of me?”

“Then I’ll be sick of you for a few hours,” he says, “and you’ll be sick of me ‘til we’re not.”

Your eyes roam his face for any indication that he might not be telling the truth. “That easy?” you ask. 

He nods, fingers coming up to find your lips. He touches them for a moment, exploring the soft skin there. Instead of kissing you though, he halts.

“What?” You frown. 

Matt shakes his head. “Nothing. Just… You’re gonna be okay,” his voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ll make sure of that.”

A whimper breaks from your chest. He believes it wholeheartedly, but it is incredibly hard to hear it out loud because you don’t believe it. You press your lips together, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over again. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way,” you whisper. “I wish I could be… normal.”

Again, he nods, fingers brushing over your cheek to catch a stray tear. “You are normal,” he insists softly. “Your pain doesn’t make you any less. And ‘cause I know how strong you are, I know you’re gonna be okay.”

“Even if I’ll be ill for the rest of my life? Even if I–”

“Of course,” he stops you. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I promise. Not ‘even if’ but regardless of whether it’s endometriosis or… or something else. Your pain is a part of you, but it’s not all of you. I love all of you.”

There is no stopping the avalanche of tears that is forced down the hill by his words. They hit you harder than an arrow to the heart. 

You crack under the weight of your emotions. “I love you,” you whisper. Those three words mean the world, but they feel inadequate to describe what you feel. 

“I know,” says Matt. “I love you too.”

The once open wounds of the blood you shed just to find him are nothing but scars now—scars you can learn how to live with once you accept that there is nothing wrong with you. Being a human being with an illness, both mentally and physically, doesn’t make you any less worthy of love. It doesn’t make you any less worthy of life. 

With Matt by your side, you are no longer alone in this. You have him, all of him, and that makes all the difference. 

Matt Murdock (Angst) Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @abucketofweird

Also tagging: @moncherriis

[y-rhywbeth2]

In your post about Durge's sudden normality you mentioned implied SA in the tags; would you mind elaborating on that? I don't remember seeing any implications like that, but I know I missed a lot of details in my first run. (Obviously if you would mind feel free to ignore this.)

Naturally this is going under a cut for discussion of rape, sexual exploitation and incest:

Some of it is mostly me reading into things and frowning, but Bhaal being able to violate Durge sexually and the intent of sexual exploitation (regardless of Durge's will) is canon and it does lend credence to the idea.

Durge is obligated to breed, and Bhaal can and will force them to; the original version of the feral ending in the dialogue files involves him forcing them into a state of sexual hyperarousal and forcing them to mate with a gnoll, in the same way he can force the urge to slay on them. Bhaal's intention there is to see if he can breed more monstrous Bhaalspawn. Some of the dialogue options are just Durge screaming in horror.

Durge has no memory of the actual rape; Bhaal forces them to spend the entire time thinking about him: "Your memory of last night's act is absent. In the moment of mounting, your mind emptied itself, and you could think only of Bhaal."

And knowing that, when I saw "I love you father. I'm a good [child], a good, good [child]" in the released version I had to go sit down for a bit.

We know that Durge is expected to have kids - it's a mortal sin that they haven't. It's also vague whether they tried or not pre-amnesia; they're described as "failing" not refusing, it could've gone either way. Durge may already have been exploited. Even if they don't disappoint Bhaal in game, this "duty" remains. It's not just the Tribunal making shit up; Sceleritas is your direct liaison to Bhaal, and he makes this clear to them as Bhaal's Chosen too.

We know that if Durge won't kill then Bhaal will force them to, and we know that he can force them to have sex too. It's entirely possible that Durge's only say in this is to either fuck partners they chose or have them chosen for them (as we all know, Bhaal has zero respect for his kids' bodily autonomy or desires past his use for them, and Bhaal wants more babies.)

At the very least, it doesn't seem to be a major part of Bhaal's plan for Durge yet, so Durge may have dodged this specific form of abuse for now.

Bhaal has also done this to Sarevok, it seems, who would probably have killed himself back in BG1+2 if he could see what would happen to him in his future.

Knowing that Bhaal has no issues inflicting sexual arousal on his own kids, those scriptures you find that explicitly refer to the pleasure he bestows on his followers when they kill as "erotic" unfortunately have little reason not to be applied to Bhaalspawn. It would also explain the necrophilia if Durge has been conditioned to see killing/corpses as sexual.

Not quite the same thing, but the thing where people think Durge fucked the Netherbrain is actually from a remark by Bhaal in the journal update, where he makes a crack that "That slimy thing in the Moonrise called you its fallen star. It was very reverent [...] apparently [you're] good at playing with tentacles."

That's not inherently sexual, but knowing that Bhaal is willing to sexually exploit Durge and that the fandom had already interpreted it as sexual, I did kind of stare at it in horror for a bit.

[spacedustmantis]

list of shipnames in jrwi and who they are referring to

this is (and probably forever will be) a work in progress. i plan on expanding this list with any and all shipnames i come across, so if you want to see the up-to-date list, make sure to open the original post. also feel free to send me shipnames that are missing from this list to my inbox or over dms.

note: not all of these are extremely common or in circulation quite yet, but you might encounter them every now and then anyways.

note x2: for some of these ships there are multiple names in use, i tried to sort them by how common they are (most common to least common)

‼️ important disclaimer! this is an archival work, meant to list as many ship names as possible for a variety of uses. this means this list does include ships that might be triggering for some. regardless of my feelings about it, abusive, unrealistic, or violent ships as well as underage and incest are pretty much always a facet of fandom, and as such they are represented here, partially to give people the necessary information to be able to circumvent being confronted with said content (e.g. via muting tags) should they want/need to. ‼️

riptide:

pc/pc

fish and chips (fnc): chip/gillion

navyseal: jay/gillion

mockingjay/phoenix: chip/jay

poly pirates: chip/jay/gillon

pc/npc

catnip: chip/la alma

sailorsong/scarlet captains: chip/jazz

fools gold/bargaining chip: chip/niklaus

drunken sailors: chip/caspian

chiptune/chipped crown: chip/queen

stoneflame: chip/igneous

midnight memories: chip/drey

homeowners association: chip/ensa

tboy polycule: chip/jazz/igneous

birdbolt/clockwork rivals/women in STEM: jay/ensa

pistolwhip: jay/lizzie

sharpshooter: jay/kira

bloodshot: jay/anastasia

sheshells: jay/edyn

artemisanchor: jay/aslana

songbird: jay/queen

bloodbath: jay/anastasia/aslana

hook, line and sinker: jay/edyn/lizzie

jay's harem/let's go lesbians: jay/her many girlfriends (ever changing, always evolving)

swordfish: gillion/caspian

dealbreaker: gillion/niklaus

sea shanty: gillion/queen

goldfish/dragonfish: gillion/clorten

sunken anchor: gillion/marshal john

catfish: gillion/kuba kenta

destined sails: gillion/caspian/marshal john

fish and chips and more fish: chip/gillion/caspian

manlet, manwhore, manslayer: chip/gillion/niklaus

sea sharp: chip/gillion/queen

deal with the devil (dwtd): chip/jay/gillion/niklaus

bardic inspiration: chip/jay/gillion/queen

full ensemble: chip/jay/gillion/queen/jazz

npc/npc

drearl: drey/earl

watergun: drey/finn

old man yaoi/drearlinn: drey/finn/earl

cattlepunk: drey/ichabod

roseshot: drey/captain rose

dreyson: drey/jayson

metal detector/gunmetal/robopanda: alphonze/gryffon

popshot: gryffon/queen

precious metals: gryffon/igneous

seawitch: niklaus/edyn

frigatebird/warbird/waning crescent: lizzie/ava

fighting chance/boxer briefs: la alma/clorten

naval orange: marshal john/amanda rinn

message in a bottle: marshal john/edyn

field medic: marshal john/rudith

rose tides: lizzie/edyn

rosewater: lizzie/caspian

lunar eclipse/sea serpents: ava/lizzie/edyn

smoothjazz/singing the blues: jazz/caspian

jam session: jazz/queen

saltwater pearl: caspian/edyn

soundwaves/sea shanty: caspian/queen

pearlescent: edyn/aslana

hammer to fall/songsmith: queen/alasse

lamprey: anastasia/aslana

starcrossed survivors/starstruck: zamia/star

apotheosis:

pc/pc

angelstone/stonesong: peter/rumi

deicide: rumi/thanatos

tech support: peter/thanatos

eldritchstrings: rumi/exandroth

pc/npc

divineshifter/shape4shifter: rumi/rhymir

prime defenders:

pc/pc

ghostknife: william/vyncent

ghostkicks/blue raspberry: william/dakota

cardiac arrest: william/dakota/ashe

dancebattle/spacejam: vyncent/dakota

revenant/wispy winters/evildead/haunted house: william/ashe

tomeblade/gamecube/demondagger: vyncent/ashe

demonkicks: dakota/ashe

polypd: william/vyncent/dakota/ashe

pc/npc

decharge/soulfire: william/doug

sunghost/sunshade: william/summer

parasol: william/vyncent/summer

spare the dying/exquisite corpses: william/cantrip

ghostlysigns: william/jimmy

npc/npc

tidalwave: tide/mark winters

suntrip: summer/cantrip

doodlejump/pencilfrog: le frog/pencilman

cops and froggers: le frog/officer frank

zebrafish: tide/harlem

car manual: wordsmith/pretender

shooting star: mrs g/lightspeed

shadowfold: harlem/jason

blood in the bayou:

pc/pc

keeperschampion: rand/rolan

rollingstones: kian/rolan

smokeshow: kian/rand

nightmare blunt rotation (nbr): kian/rand/rolan

pc/npc

heartstrings: kian/becky

meddling kids: kian/rand/rolan/becky

bleacher ghosts: kian/becky/jesse

milf season: kian/donna

private performance: kian/donna/john

the suckening:

pc/pc

guarddog: emizel/shilo

alleycat: emizel/arthur

royal pain: shilo/arthur

boynabbing: emizel/shilo/arthur

pc/npc

fizzfangs/monster energy: emizel/soda

backalley kiss: emizel/gabriel

armored pheasant: shilo/grefgor

woodland prince: shilo/grangel

vampistol/shadowhorse: arthur/deacon

burnt stake: arthur/magnus

wisdomtooth: arthur/viv

wailing crown: emizel/shilo/vex/viv

npc/npc

weylincest: viv/vex

wailing flesh: viv/vex/the unseen one

total monster kill

n/a

wonderlust

pc/pc

featherfall: troy/blink

pc/npc

lintroller: troy/lint

old campaigns and one-shots under the cut

mythborne

supernova: connor/aster

achilles heel: connor/ryan

sunspot: aster/ryan

paperball: ryan/gary

spotlight: connor/aster/ryan

playwrat: connor/aster/ryan/romeo

final episode one shot

bluecherrylite: cherry/jebediah/aren

jebebriadic/ringbearers: jebediah/brian

twitch chat one shot

hoofin' it: icarus/gravel

convergence:

krangle: kasper/strangle

the fated:

br'aaxi: br'aad/taxi

scythebelts: sylnan/velrisa

kathnan: sylnan/katherine

sylgarth: sylnan/ugarth

velriana: velrisa/oriana

[catacombbee]

school bus graveyard headcanons because im thinking about them

and because im projecting

just general / random headcanons

Tyler has arachnophobia and entomophobia. creepy crawlies are a HARD NO for Mr. Hernandez. Jackass bullies? No problem. Phantoms trying to eat him? Easy. Tree? Been there, done that. Fucking spiders? get it the FUCK away. mans has a visceral skin crawling reaction to even SEEING something creepy crawlie. it's one of the only things that makes him seriously panic other than yk someone being hurt

Ashlyn has autism yes this is basically canon i think. BUT Ashlyn has a lot of texture sensitivities both with clothes and with food. itchy scratchy clothes are a no. she cannot stand t-shirts keeping their tags they rub and scratch her neck and it makes her want to scream. she cuts the tags out before wearing anything. and food she can't have anything too squishy or tough or else she just loses her appetite entirely.

^^ to build on the clothing tags. everyone else in the group cuts the tags out of their jackets/hoodies and some shirts so if Ashlyn wants to borrow something she can be comfortable

Aiden is down bad for someone wearing his clothes. this can apply to any ship you want, i like him with Ashlyn Tyler or Logan (ive like never seen any talk abt Aidgan? Loden?) but regardless. whoever it is Aiden likes he gets so giddy butterflies giggly seeing someone wear his clothes. this is moreso for Ashlyn or maybe Logan because Ashlyn is so much smaller than Aiden that his sweatshirt would probably hang off her and Aiden would just abdjshfkefbns she's so cute!! this is mostly an Aidlyn hc for me but Logan would also be cute in anyone else's sweatshirt

uh if it's not clear by now im a multishipper ive said it before BUT i like Tyben a lot. they find calm and quiet in each other and bond through expressing themselves through something much healthier: music. i adore Tyben. AND because of Ben in the canvas webtoon: Tyler calls him ladybug. "Hey ladybug" "It's okay ladybug ive got you" "ladybug, you okay?"

kinda related to previous one but like blush hc. Ben does not blush. maybe a little pink on his cheeks. but his EARS. his ears get so RED when he's angry or when he's flustered. his face might be 😐 but you look at his ears and they're red you know he's flustered

ALSO everyone learned ASL for Ben so he didn't have to just use notes n stuff. Aiden was already learning but everyone else picked up on it

Logan likes compact spaces, they male him feel safe and secure. Like the tire! He feels very nice and snuggly in his tire. But also like. under beds. in closets (haha). one time they played hide and seek in Aiden's house and Logan won because he fell asleep curled up in an empty cabinet. Logan loves being little spoon because he just fits snugly in everyone's arms

it's been mentioned Tyler plays guitar, but i hc that he's also a really good artist. because he got into baseball for a scholarship he's kinda dropped both art and music, but in getting to know the others and especially Ben he gets back into playing music which leads to him drawing again. he doodles pictures of his friends and they realize what a good artist he is. that's how he realizes he actually has passion for creativity and decides he wants to be a tattoo artist.

(i was writing a tyden tattoo artist Tyler au on a reblog draft from a post @\the-killies made and like forgot abt it. someone peer pressure me if you think that sounds like snth you wanna read. it was probably over 1k words by the time i forgor)

Taylor likes mechanics (cus. the club) but she also knows some programming. this is solely because I think Taylor would like making little robots just for fun. Aiden would beg her to make him a little robot like that one companion toy robot Cosmo

in canvas sbg Logan brought a bunch of clothes for them to wear in the pictures/videos they took. so. Logan likes cosplay and renn faires. History is one of his favorite subjects (the other being science. english/literature is a very close third. he doesn't dislike math just isn't his favorite) so he has a lot of clothes from different time periods because of the renn faires he's been to.

This is a really unhinged headcanon and isn't something ive ever thought about before but thinking about Logan having outfits and stuff made me think who would be the most likely to be a furry. and no not Logan. it would be Aiden. hes rich enough to splurge on his fursuit. THIS IS A JOKE I DONT HC HIM AS A FURRY THIS IS A "WHOS MOST LIKELY TO" PLEAS

Aiden's favorite subject is history, he likes reading about wars but he also enjoys learning about other cultures and differences from how we live in modern day America. Aiden would probably study anthropology just for the fun of it. he and Logan bond over their love of history. Aiden can't remember what he had for lunch yesterday but he can tell you every little detail he knows about the Civil War start to finish, dates and names and locations and all.

this is a really weird hc but. Ashlyn is an amazing rapper. there was a karaoke night and one song someone did had a rap part coming up and they were like ahaha it's too fast for me and Ashlyn just stood up. took the mic. and fucking blew everyone's minds. and then she sat down like she didnt just rock their world

this last bit is self indulgent. assuming the phantom world things don't last forever, the kids get therapy eventually :D

^^ building on that, Ben specifically, he lives in my head rent free. i love him sm. Ben gets therapy for not just the phantom world things but everything beforehand. slowly and surely, starting with Aiden and Lily and maybe whichever person he's shipped with, he starts talking again. Some days are better than others, sometimes he gets quiet again, other times he goes for days talking as much as anyone (except aiden he yaps.) everyone almost cries when Ben is doing something and begins singing to himself because they realize he's better

im gonna do like gender & sexuality headcanons too,,, maybe later. might do silly ship hcs too cus i ship so many pairings here

[chairofchaos]

You Deserve Better, and Other Points for Reflection

Hey friends, listen up. Real talk for a second, because nobody deserves this. And, in case anybody cares, I want you to know I come with 12 years of learning on this exact debate we have been having, because I had some very excellent fandom mentors in my communities and in the form of my uncles, who to this day support me writing and reading whatever hell I please, even in the face of protest from my immediate family. There was a lot of learning I had to do to be here with you now, and I am thankful for those people who were willing to tell me so.

If you want to post memes and think pieces and jokes and poems about a fandom debate, go ahead! You create the experience you want to see on your dash, and you will find your people.

If you want to discuss a fandom debate (a little or a lot), go ahead! I’m all for thinking through how we live and act and exist as a fan community.

If you feel that you need to take those things and turn them into vitriol to pour into the DMs and Anons of people who are running a fan week, that is not okay. Not in the slightest.

There is a big difference between debate, discussion, creative protest, and joking around, and intentionally using your words to create harm in someone’s life.

“But, Chaos, this [thing not directly sent to you/not specifically intended for you] hurt my feelings!”

Okay. Get burned once? Great! You learned something: don’t touch the hot iron again. (To translate: block the tag, block the person, whatever you need, and move on. If it isn’t for you that’s ok.) Hurt feelings are to tell you what you can and/or are willing to handle. If you don’t want to see it, block. (I love blocking tags it’s one of my little joys in life lol)

“Chaos, somebody said something really rude to me to my (virtual) face! What do I do?”

Well, you can either respond or you can block. Either way, it will probably help you to move on.

If you are responding, I beg you to keep one thing in mind. I want you to picture 7 year old you at the other end of that message. Or 13 year old you. What kind of words did they deserve to hear in a moment when maybe they weren’t getting something? Use those. Use them kindly, not in a condescending way, but in a “I want to explain this as gently as I would to my younger self” kind of way. If somebody keeps being mean, it isn’t worth it. Please use the block feature and move on. They are not worth your time.

Additionally, I would encourage you to do this: the “touch grass” mentality is something I only direct at myself. (I literally told myself to go touch grass yesterday, and there is at least one person who can corroborate that.) I stand by that decision every single day. It’s kept me out of a lot of trouble. Directing it at others does not end well, but directing it at yourself can be a good way to reflect and to consider sensible actions in the face of overwhelming situations or emotions (of which I experience many).

“Chaos, people are coming into anon and being hateful. Or just rude. Or they’re dumping triggering material into my anons.”

That is on them. That is not on you. They should not do that. And I am so sorry you are dealing with that. I’m going to be honest, I don’t know if you can block from anons (I’ve never even needed to look and so help you all if this is the post that makes me) but if you can, do. I will do what I can to help, if you need it. Regardless of where you stand on any of these issues, because I will not stand for hatred.

“I’m mad about [redacted] and I am going to be rude/mean/intentionally putting triggering material in people’s inboxes and activity feeds!”

You do that and you will be in a world of hurt, my friend. A world of hurt from yourself.

Because we create the experience we think we deserve. If you create an internet experience where it is acceptable to be hateful, vengeful, and downright cruel to other people, that is the experience you will receive in return. You deserve better than that. And if you believe that you deserve better than that but the people you’re directing cruelty towards don’t, then I want you to hear me: you will quickly find that you are not welcome anywhere. There will always be someone to disagree with. There will always be (at least) minute discrepancies in the way two or more people think, even people who are deeply similar.

Hurt the hand that reaches to help you- one day it will be raised against you in hurt as well.

As for me? Well, for that, I leave you with thoughts from George Washington’s Farewell address as paraphrased in Hamilton’s ‘One Last Time’:

“Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors.”

I am not a president (and thank god for that because who wants Chaos in charge of a country?). I am simply a fandom member. A writer. A little chaos gremlin lurking behind trees in the forest.

But like Mr. Washington, I am aware that I often fail to live up to my standards and principles. And I hope, truly, though it is wildly uncomfortable for me, that you would call me out for ways I have failed to uphold them, either in the past or in the future. (It would be super great if you like… called me out in DMs and didn’t put me on blast but oh well.)

I am in at least four other major (international, GIANT) fandoms. I am not hopeful enough to think that the ACOTAR fandom will learn from the fandoms of yore. We will have to weather these storms on our own, even with the knowledge and experiences already there. I think that’s okay. Disappointing, perhaps, but okay.

Since this post was much longer than it was intended to be, I will summarize:

If you are intentionally putting hateful materials in the inboxes, DMs, and activity feeds of people you disagree with, you will hurt yourself.

You create the experience you think you deserve, and in doing so, create that experience for others. Good or bad.

Block tags, block blogs, block what you need to enjoy the space. You will find your people.

Being intentionally cruel to other human persons is how you end up finding that nobody is “your people” because you created an environment where no one wants to be. You will be lonely and sad. Don’t make yourself lonely and sad.

I am certain I fail to uphold these principles at times. Feel free to call me out if you see me failing at these. DM appreciated, but I’m the one who invited you to do so so I’m not going to say “don’t blast me on main.” My funeral, I know.

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write. 

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[skania]

OnK Chapter 149

I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me because I’m always complaining about Aka’s writing, but…

And I mean it when I say that I expect nothing 😭 This was literally my first ever OnK-related reblog and its tags are more relevant than ever lmao

These, too:

#honestly I didn’t think too hard about any of this during my first read #because the romantic endgame seems so obvious that it kind of discourages guessing lmao #but re-reading these chapters has made me appreciate Aqua’s side of his bond with Akane a lot more

Back when I first got into OnK, I mentioned that Akane was the entire reason I kept reading the manga. I didn’t care about the romantic subplot, found Aqua/Kana extremely obvious and predictable, and Aqua plain boring.

It’s only during my second read that I paid close attention to Akane’s interactions with Aqua and I ended up playing myself into both, caring about Aqua and shipping him with Akane lol

This chapter has made me realize that despite everything, I'm not emotionally invested in whether they end up together or not. I’d prefer it, obviously, because Aqua truly is at his most interesting whenever he’s around Akane, and their dynamic has the best development in the manga (so far).

But it’s just like I said before: If they don’t end up together, that’s just Aka’s loss, not mine. I’m just here for Akane 😂

And as an Akane fan, I feel like the best thing for me to do right now is to just take a step back and watch things unfold, because Aka will do whatever he wants regardless of how any of us interpret his manga lol

So instead of posting the long post I originally wrote about this chapter when the leaks came out, I'll just share a a clown gif because in hindsight it was silly of me to expect Kana out of all people to have any sort of meaningful insight into Aqua 🤡

And a couple of things that caught my eye because I can't help myself:

Kana didn't even see Aqua and Akane have any sort of meaningful moment, just those two standing in each other's vicinity was enough to make her throw herself a pity party. How many more times is she going to pity herself and give up? How has Aka not tired of writing her this way? Where did her development from the Scandal arc go? 🤡

So Chapter 147 featured Kamiki thinking Ai doesn't love him and Kana thinking Aqua likes her. It even had a helpful "Cut 139: Misunderstanding" panel and everything. Will this mean something? Who knows!

Kana used guilt-trip! It was super effective!

Oh the irony! Poor Akane looks like she's been hard at work convincing herself that she's over Aqua. And you know what? I cheer for her and respect her energy 100%. I'd rather see her doing her mightiest to help him without any ulterior motives than to have her crying for him and hoping to get back with him every other chapter lol

Akane calling Kana out for her pity-party and for being cowardly was so cathartic that if I didn't already stan her, I'd have become a fan right now 😭 It also means that Aka is 100% aware of the way he writes Kana, so when will she finally be allowed to grow?

Kana's praise to Akane made me so sad though because yes, Akane is pretty and she's talented and she's kind. That's sweet of her to say. But that's not what made Akane someone special to Aqua: it was the way she understood him. The worst part is that Kana ends her praise by saying that Akane is a "goody-two-shoes" but... that's the opposite of how Akane views herself. She sees herself as someone who's not decent and not normal. So it's no wonder that while she gets flustered (it's her dear kana-chan praising her), she seems to get a bit sad/frustrated afterward. After all, for Akane it's probably the opposite. Men would prefer a decent, normal, bright girl like Kana - Aqua included.

I wish someone would tell Akane that she is too ignorant of her own charms and that she doesn't have to act like an adult all the time. Truly the pot calling the kettle black! Sadly, unlike Kana, Akane seems to have no one in her corner in this manga. Aqua was the only one there and the poor guy is barely even a character anymore lol

Overprotective mother or controlling ex-girlfriend? Take your pick!

The English translation left something pretty important out in these panels. Akane doesn't just say "if you have a girlfriend", she says "if you have a precious/important girlfriend". This distinction is very important because it goes to show that... as expected, Akane doesn't think she was an important girlfriend to Aqua. It's like she didn't count and Kana would be the real deal. Oh, Akane...

Which takes me to her very silly, very convoluted yet very predictable plan (in true Aka fashion).

When Akane thinks “I know exactly what you hate”, I imagine she means that Aqua hates hurting and endangering those he cares for. So I'm guessing Akane thinks that if she plays matchmaker and quite literally throws Kana at him, someone he has a soft spot, then Aqua won't be able to go through with his revenge because that would mean breaking Kana's very fragile heart.

In other words, it looks like Akane is going to try and use Aqua's guilt-complex against him and her weapon of choice is love. But not her love, obviously, because as far as she's concerned, her romantic love already failed to save him.

Granted, using Kana's romantic feelings to her advantage is kind of... well, wrong. To quote Akane herself, [Kana] is neither her pet nor her property, but a person. But I'm guessing that Akane may be falling victim to the same loophole she got caught in in Chapters 96 - 98. She thinks she knows what's best, so she's putting her own beliefs aside for the time being.

Kind of like Aqua, actually.

And, ironically, it's Aqua himself who first realized how easy Kana is to use.

So! All in all, I'm here for Mastermind!Akane but I hope that Aka will actually make it worth our while. Will Kana realize that she's about to be used as a chess piece in this Proxy War? Who knows, characters in this manga seem to walk in circles, only being allowed to grow when it fits the plot 😂

Last week we wondered whether Aka would subvert expectations or go the predictable route, and down the predictable route he went. His way of making it less predictable is by including a twist in the form of Akane's ulterior motives, but will this be enough to allow this ol' used trope to lead us someplace new? I guess we'll have to keep reading to find out, but given the quality of the writing lately, I'm not expecting much lol

[atthebell]

do people understand that your reblog tags on a post do not impact whether or not a post goes into the main tag. like it does not matter how many times people in my notes tag a post of mine with "qsmp" or whatever the tag is, it's not going into that main tag; that's not how browsing tags work. the ONLY way a post goes into a browsible tag is by OP putting the tags on the original post.

relatedly, do people understand that tag blocking functions the opposite way-- if someone tags "discourse" on a post at any time, it is immediately blocked for anyone who has "discourse" on their filtered tags list. does not matter what op tagged, does not matter who puts it on your dash from that point forward, the tag is on the post so it's going to be filtered. this is how i end up not seeing a lot of those big "tag a piece of media that--" posts; it's because i have a lot of things blocked, so anytime a single person tags any of them on a post, i have the whole post blocked. [and i use xkit rewritten, which means i don't even see the post at all]

also related-- there is a difference between actually browsing a tag and searching a phrase-- tumblr has made it kind of strange to tell the exact difference, so i'll demonstrate:

so when i type in "qsmp fanart", it gives me a couple of options.

first, i can click "Go to #qsmp fanart", which will take me to the tag "qsmp fanart":

rad, exactly what i'm looking for, i'll scroll through latest to see what people have posted in the last couple hours.

however, secondly, it gives me the option "[search] qsmp fanart", which is NOT the same thing as opening the tag itself. it will open the search function and look up "qsmp fanart," meaning it grabs whatever assortment of posts tumblr's broken search engine has decided mention "qsmp fanart":

[most of said posts are, in fact, qsmp fanart, as the way tumblr's search indexing works does include searching tags, but it also searches post content. i'm censoring because posting screenshots of people's art feels iffy to me, not because i have any issue with the art itself.]

these two things are NOT the same. one of these takes you do the actual tag, the other makes you search for those terms mentioned on a post. which, like i said, means it indexes not just the tags but the post content itself-- this means any mention of said search term on a post means it could be seen in this search (unless OP has their blog marked unsearchable). for a while, as well, tumblr made this the default whenever you pressed enter rather than manually clicking an option, meaning people would think they were opening the tag to browse it but instead were searching for whatever they entered. i believe they've fixed that now, or at least one of my extensions has; regardless, clicking the # option will get you to the right place.

this is, in part, how i think we get people going "you put neg in the main tag!!!" which, while it does happen often, is not always the issue; what actually happened is tumblr actually had them search for the term mentioned in the tag rather than going into the tag itself. regardless of this issue, though, i think it's just good for people to understand the difference between when they're searching posts (not very helpful at times, doesn't get you much of what you're probably looking for depending on the search term, drags up every single post (that tumblr can actually index properly) that mentions the term) versus when they're opening the tag (OPs here clearly actually want you to see their posts).

[blank-slate-jay]

Shared Warmth

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: Joel brings reader to an abandon home, that he wants to call home for the two of you. Something erotic in Joel ensues seeing you in just your underwear.

Tags: Smut (18+), Anal, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Joel, Fluff, Established Relationship, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Longest fic I've ever written so far. I don't know how I managed to conjure this! Could've split this into two parts, but decided this is better as one post to make this more cohesive. Enjoy!

AO3! | Reposts are much appreciated!

——————————————————

"You'll see," is what you had received.

A response with very little context, a saying with many different meanings.

You didn't know what to make of this, sitting behind him on the horse with your arms around his waist, you genuinely felt left in the dark. It was very much like Joel to leave you questioning the tones under his voice. Most of the time it was just Joel being Joel, being the closed off man that he was. But the man was in a very good mood, deliberately mocking your naivety with a chuckle.

You sighed, "where are you taking me", saying it more toward yourself than to Joel. Being nearly a day away from Jackson, the question was a reasonable one. After all, what purpose was there to go beyond Jackson for? A gated community was a blessing in times like these, and yet strangely for you, something felt off. Living there has made you feel out of place, made your relationship with Ellie and Joel seemly less meaningful. Perhaps being in a safe haven, with so many people, wasn't truly what you sought.

Bizarre for sure that if you say it out loud, you knew people would call you crazy. You yourself felt you might’ve lost your mind. However, you can’t deny your feelings. Those days, weeks, and months traveling with Joel and Ellie across the country - those were some of the best times you've had even with the looming danger around every corner.

Regardless of what was going through your head, you weren't complaining, being back out into the world. The orange glow of the sun only served to emphasize this notion, piercing through the branches just above your head. It created this relaxing setting, one you can bask in for an unhealthy amount of hours.

"Do you have an idea of where we might be goin'," Joel asked.

Cruel. Just damn cruel, asking you a question you knew he'd leave open ended. Still, you played along.

"I’m assuming it’s pretty big,” after relaying that the man hums finally providing you with a clue, even if its unspecified. “…and that you aren’t playing some trick on me. So, a mall?”

“Try again.”

“A museum?”

“Nope…”

You let out a frustrated grunt, wishing the ladder were true. “Lake?”

Joel took longer to respond, “Mmm,” the man thought about it. “Not quite, it’s close by, but not important.”

You scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder, unsure of what he has disclosed so far is true or not, "Should I already know what it is?" Maybe that'll give you the upper hand.

"I doubt you'd guess this," Joel responses.

"So I'm guessing that a no then?"

The older man nods, turning his head to you before replying with a, 'Yeah'. There was no use in trying by that point. The constant persistence wasn't doing you both any favors. Joel probably had a reason to keep it secretive, so why spoil it? Knowing ahead would've made the trip less intriguing, if not boring. And on the bright side, what'll come will actually be a surprise.

Rather than playing into Joel's trickery you let it go, lifting your head back up, "Alright you won, I forfeit."

"Finally givin' up."

You reply, “I think I have too. I’ve ran out of ideas,” you lied just exhausted by the mind tricks, “Unless you want me to keep going?”

Joel partly wanted you to continue, to get back at you for all the times you fucked with him. He was starting to understand the fun in it now and why you did it to him. He settled for one more jab at you, “Will you get it a right this time?”

"Shut it" you giggle, bumping the man's thighs with your legs. Your comment did do the trick, as Joel fell silent after your remark. You could tell the man was smiling though; his rising cheek gave it away. Some of you was certainly rubbing off onto him, to know the man was now more comfortable with you was flattering.

Joel then reaches down for your leg, placing his hand right over your kneecap, caressing it like it was precious. “Don’t worry now, sugar. We’ll be there shortly.”

His considerate touch, that softness in his voice. Those two components together were enough to send a warm feeling throughout your body. How easy Joel could just captivate you by his touch alone, you guessed that was just how love worked.

You nodded your head as if he could see you, humming to acknowledge his words. Again you laid your head against him, face now between the back of his bare neck and the collar of his blue shirt. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the sounds of nature around you to pass the time.

---

Sometime later, you found yourself opening your eyes to the sound of Joel's voice. Your vision, well adjusted to the growing darkness of dusk, focused on the dirt path some feet away.

"We're here," Joel says, spiking your interest enough to get your full attention. You lean back from the man's frame, hands rubbing the bags under your eyes.

Taking a look at the dirt path, you gaze in both direction. One leading deeper into the forest and the other extended out into a clearing. You confusingly study the area, unable to spot anything of interest. No water, no structure, not even a tree with any unique properties. You couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered, some of that feeling escaping through your lips with a quick 'Umm'. Stealing a glance at Joel's side profile, you tried reading what little you could see of his face.

He nods, "Good. You're awake. It's just this way," he explains, spurring the horse to get them moving in the direction of the dirt path.

Huffing in relief you spoke, "Phew, not gonna lie you almost got me there," thinking Joel might've been toying with you still. He turns his head to you, claiming that he wasn't going to bring you out there for nothing. If the man had told you that some time ago, you would have a hard time believing him.

Trotting forward, the horse comes into close proximity of the tree lines. Just on the other side you could barely see something faint between the leaves; a building of sorts. By what you could see the distance made it difficult to tell with the addition of nature covering your view. The universe really made things difficult for you. For what what it was worth, you were sure Joel didn't want you to see it until you stepped out into the open field. Still, the suspense was killing you.

This wasn't going to last any longer as Joel turns the horse right into the clearing. The tree's now finally out of view, you were hit with the red beam from the sun, blinded by your curiosity and in exchange being blinded by the sun in return.

You squint some, grunting as your gaze trailed around the perimeter. There was lots of tall grass, a noticeable transition compared to the on's just behind them. It stretched far beyond what your eyes could already see. Of course your mind was then caught up by the building some distance away.

There was a house. Someone's house. A house, that looked to be in good conditions. Surprisingly the lone tree just beside it has yet to infect the home with any vines. It made you believe that someone had to have lived here not too long ago. That person was one lucky bastard to have that home to themselves, you thought, imagining how nice the interior had looked.

"Ain't that something", Joel spoke, pretending as if it was his first time being there.

You comment, "Looks lively." A good point compared to everything the two of you had seen on the way there.

But Joel corrected you, "It's empty actually, has been for awhile". You let out a quick 'Huh', taking in his words, further scanning the house. The sidings are a tinted white, slightly scrapped on some parts of the wall. The dark colored roof, contrasting with the siding, made the home brighter than it already seemed. The house stood tall, two stories at most based off the windows, with the first floor being linked with the porch.

It was both funny and disheartening how attached you felt to this home already compared to the one you, Joel, and Ellie shared in Jackson. You kill to live in a home like this, not that you hated your existing home, just this one felt...right to you. Exterior alone, it reminded you of your old house pre-outbreak.

"Can we go in," you asked. A silly question, like you needed Joel's permission to enter the desolate property.

Joel responded sarcastically, dragging out the phrase "Nooo", with his gruffy voice. You knew he was only kidding and was now becoming intrigued by what was inside. Even so, the invasive feeling creeping up your stomach didn't go away yet. You looked around, taking in a full scope of the area. You trusted Joel of course, something that had improved since you first met. But your vigilant, alert mind hadn't shifted in the slightest; only improved thanks to being with Joel.

You turn your head around, looking behind you and at the edges of the tree lines to ensure that no one was following or coming. Like it even mattered, Joel had already assured your safety. You guessed it was better safe than sorry.

With your head now facing to the left, you gaze over to the far side of the field. So far that walking there would be ineffective. The field, a tad bit sloped, dragged on into the distance stretching too far for you to even consider. The sun made the entire sight something you'd see only from a painting or photograph. Sure enough, Joel wasn't lying from earlier when he confirmed there was a lake, just far off at the ends of the slope.

Joel steady the horse, grabbing the reins tightly to slow her down to a halt. "Alright," the man sighed. You let go of his waist as he began to move, his boots shaking the stirrups while he steps down from the horse. He then reaches his hand up to you. You gladly took it, allowing the man to pull you down.

You thanked him, a small smile stretching across the side of your face as you looked at the older man. He reciprocated your gesture with a smile of his own, one that made the wrinkles near his eyes stand out. He didn't have to mutter a word for you to know that he heeds your words.

The man turned his attention then to the horse, letting go of your hand in the process. He grabbed the reins and moved the horse over to tie it up to on of the porch's pillars. While he does so, you made your way up the few stairs, the wood creaking beneath your shoes.

Your hands trailed along the rails, rough and also smooth against your skin. Your eyes darting up and down the walls. Closely the walls looked more worn down, not too badly but could use some improvement.

You turned to look back at Joel who was slinging his bag over his shoulder. The man brushes his hand by your arm and passes by you. He walked up to the door before pushing it open. He moves his back agains the open frame, "Come".

Peaking inside for a moment, there was no way the house was empty like Joel had inferred. "Empty, huh. Doesn't look the way to me.", you look at the man with a snarky look on your face.

He looked unfazed by your humor, the man's face falling a bit flat. It reminded you of the times he'd looked at you after having to endure some of your playful banter. Those times were fun back when you traveled the country together with Ellie.

"Get in" he insisted, sounding annoyed but also seconds away from chuckling.

You don't push your luck and brush by the man still with that look on your face as you pass by him. To wipe that look off your face, Joel smacks your backside causing you to yelp; biting his lips in sync. It was a bastard move, but you weren't complaining. Looking back at him was either rewarding or a mistake cause he was making the face you familiarizes yourself with, best described as hunger. God. Choosing your next action carefully was smart cause anything that insight him to grab and kiss you, would lead to something more...erotic.

Not giving into temptation, you turn your attention to the living space ahead, balling your hand into a fist and squeezing it with the other hand. "This is...quite the place," you stated, stepping further into the home. You weren't kidding. The place had an aura very reminiscent of a cabin, the amount of woodwork around the living room alone gave you that impression. However, the house looked and felt homey all the same.

You walked up to a small craved out sculpture, shaped like a bull, placed above the small fire place. While inspecting it's form you brought up a question, "How'd you find all this?"

"Me and Tommy we're riding out", he started as the man trailed over to the wall to place his bag down, "And I wanted to do some more exploring but Tommy wanted to go back. So I let him and luck would have you..," the man finishes by raising his arms up some like he was revealing something grand, "...got my hands on this."

You nod, looking away from him to fiddle with the small bull, "Cool, it's like a comfy outpost. I like it". You then used the bull like a pointer, motioning it in the man's direction, "You weren't gonna hold out on us were you?"

Joel shook his head, making his way over to you. "Firstly this isn't a toy," he says, grabbing the small figure out of your hand. He places it back into its original spot before resuming, "And secondly, I was going to tell you, specifically just you about this place."

He was? You raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what significance a place like this would even have. It wasn't somewhere you'd visited with Joel before, nor was it a house that held any meaning to you prior to arriving. So what gives? "Just me", you muttered.

The man smirked some, finding it adorable how dumbfounded you appeared. He stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel the warm heat from his nostrils flaring against your face. “Yeah, just you”, he repeated, his voice now closer to a whisper. 

You could feel his hand grasping at yours as you kept your eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry, I feel I’m missing something here”. The man, obviously still listening, lifts your hand up to his own face, gently rubbing it against his cheek. His scruffy beard, pricked your palm as you cupped the man’s face. 

The man wondered if he should even answer. Your palm, tender against his rough skin nearly made him forget how to speak. Made him almost forget what you had even asked. He had held it longer than he should've, feeling slightly guilty for holding something like this off from you. He felt you inquired more than enough today. 

With your palm, slowly being squished between the man's hand and cheek he explains, "I got this for us. At Tommy's...I know things have been different between us since we got there. We, spend a lot of time outside of town, sometimes don't even spend time with each other much anymore. I thought it'd be nice to have our own space again, you know away from...everything. When I found this it just clicked for me. Felt like we could call this place home."

Your face was at ease, hearing him say what had been on your mind, spiked your attraction to the man further than you thought was possible. Every word, every sentence hit the mark for you. For a moment, you could swear he had to have read your mind at some-point. Either that or being with you had made it easy to determine what was bothering you. Regardless, having a place faraway for yourselves sounded too good to deny, especially when it was exactly what you wanted.

You couldn't quite put your thoughts into words, simply letting out a confused giggle, unsure of how to follow up on Joel's reveal.

Joel takes notice of this, captivated once more by your expression. He then breaks the silence, "You've asked a whole of questions. Now let me ask you this, how do you feel about living here with me, sunshine."

You nodded immediately, maybe a bit too quickly and possibly too eagerly. "I'd...love to," the words finally falling out of your mouth.

The man response, turning his head some to kiss your palm between an utter, "Good." His lips softly trailed down, like he was following the curved lines on your hand. Each kiss felt delicate, purposeful, each with some kind of meaning supposedly. That was just within Joel's transcended mind, he couldn't help himself, he got lost quickly whenever he'd feel your touch.

You leaned yourself forward, pulling your hand away from his mouth to wrap it around the back of his neck. Tugging him forward you embrace him, finding his hips as a comfortable spot to rest your free hand. No surprise, Joel indulged, pulling you into his arms too.

The two of you stood for some time, merely appreciating and savoring the moment of intimacy. You didn't think any words could pinpoint how much you loved Joel. Not even the word ‘loved’ felt like it was doing him justice. It was beyond that.

“What did I do to deserve you," he mutters above your ear.

“Luck," you say.

He hums, knowing it to be true but hating the notion of life without you, fighting for you made it all worth something, made it mean something. He made small circles around your back, just being grateful he had you now, thankful that you made it to this point to be there in his arms.

"I'm making dinner," Joel says, catching you off guard for a moment. "Got the ingredients for your favorite."

You knew what he was talking about, it was meal you'd two shared before and you couldn't keep quiet about your enjoyment of the dish, even while eating the damn thing.

Luck would have you, again, you were about to experience that meal again.

---

You turned the running faucet of the soothing shower off, grabbing the towel just off the shower's hinges to wrap yourself in its warmth. Stepping out the tub, you began to dry yourself, wiping away all the sweat you'd built up after leaving Jackson. Once knowing this new place had running water, you were quick to jump for the shower, never skipping the opportunity to get yourself clean.

Joel was just downstairs prepping dinner for the two of you. You wondered if it was already finished since you spent way too long wandering the upstairs plane; checking the available rooms before finding the shower. You were sure it wasn't even done yet since Joel would've called out for your name by that point.

Wiping away the last remnants of water, you threw on some spare clothing, a shirt and just your underwear, from your backpack before stepping out the restroom. The cooler air hit your body, nothing you wouldn't accept since the season was a lot warmer; spring.

You made your way into the master bedroom. In this case, your shared room with Joel. Not much was in it. Compared to the other bedroom, which hosted nothing at all, this one at least had a bed and a few dressers. You weren't complaining since the room felt less compacted and more freeing.

Walking into the room you toss your towel onto the bed, taking in the open space, a stark contrast to your room back in Jackson. The thought of what you could implement to this room had your mind racing momentarily. Like what you could put within the corners or whether you should put any entertaining devices in the room. Maybe not the last part probably cause Joel would advise keeping those contained to the living room.

It got you pretty thrilled thinking about what you could do in general now that you weren't limited to a communities resources. This of course meant you didn't have as much to work with, but everything you gathered would or could be used to further improve your new home.

You started comparing your home back in Jackson to the one you have here. Down to it's interior, format, and spacing. You thought about the kitchen, dinning area, your shared room, Ellie's room. Ellie. Again you thought about her, a realization hitting you in the process. 'Fuck' you sighed under your breath. So caught up and enthralled by a nice change of environment, you hadn't even thought about her wellbeing.

At the moment, she was at Tommy and Maria's place, likely giving them a hard time as you'd expect. The usual for Ellie. But being so far away from her, not being there for her made you somewhat fazed; a pinch of disgrace too. That girl was tough and she needed to grow up around people to understand what it's like to live. But on the other hand, she'd follow you and Joel to the ends of the earth, she said it herself.

Throughout the wave of thoughts, washing within your head, you were by the window now. Hands perched up on the dresser just below the glass's border. The spot made for a great place to reflect. Perhaps this would be a good position to do it, overlooking the grassy plains, it gave your head a hub place to ponder.

If it weren't for you being lost in your thoughts, you would've been aware of the man standing by the door frame watching you; completely out of eyesight. Joel, leaning up on the frame with his arm, exhales an exaggerated sigh to catch your attention.

You turn, startled by the sudden noise. Realizing it was just Joel you relaxed. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you joked.

His presence definitely lightened you up, giving you something to distract yourself from any thoughts running in your head. You'd talk out how to settle Ellie's situation with Joel, it'll work out; you knew it would with Joel by your side.

"Sorry" he started, his eyes gazing upon your exposed legs. "Dinner's ready."

You nod, "Alright. I'll be down in a bit."

You thought after relaying this to Joel, that he'd leave and wait for you downstairs. But he didn't move, his figure remaining still as his eyes stayed focus on you. He nods too, but it seemed more that he did it subconsciously since his eyes weren't locked with yours.

The look was back and more prominent than ever. The dark look that you avoided earlier, was calling out for you to let him have you. Mixed with the half smile across his face made for a deadly combo.

You tried being clever, looking about the room to see if your bag was in sight. It wasn't, but you were sure it was still in the restroom after changing out your clothes. "I'm gonna grab my pants, really quick-"

"You don't have to" Joel says, his fingers playing with his nails. "I think you look fine already."

Failed, you tried getting to see if the man would hold off, tried keeping him at bay at least until you both were in bed. But no, you only drew more attention to your undergarments. To make matters even worse, Joel's gruff voice had caused a twitch between your legs. A slight growth a hardness, noticeable by both of you.

Joel bit his lips, taking his weight off of the door, "You're not too hungry, right?"

This was the one time where choosing your words carefully would be wise at the moment. However, you felt there was no turning back now. He wanted you, now. And you wanted him more. You sheepishly shook your head, "Not really", finally falling for the man's glare.

While you spoke, Joel already had closed the gap between you too, looking into your eyes for a moment. He hooks the front of your trousers with his finger, pulling you closer to him until his lips were locked with yours. You inhaled deeply, feeling a tingle shake your spine.

He cups the sides of your face, passionately parting his lips to slide his tongue inside. Fast as Joel was to get things going, you accepted. The warmth elevated by the mixing of each others taste made the tightness in your underwear uncomfortable.

Joel's huffs deeply into the kiss, his grip, grew stronger with each passing second. His weight started to shift your stance, causing you to back up until you hit the dresser behind you. You grunted against his mouth, not letting the movement stop you from continuing to brush your tongue against his.

Both moaning and breathing heavily, you grab at his collar shirt, playing with one of the buttons to get it open. You tried getting him to undress, a chance taken from you when he grabs your wrist tightly. The man wanted nothing but to feel your skin against his own. He wanted to savior the moment. He liked the build up, he loved the anticipation.

His hands were free from your face, but they soon started invading your shirt. He rampaged through it, running them around your shirt before sticking them in by your sides. You tremble at his touch. His hand created a warm sensation on your skin, reminding you of the times he’d draw circles on your back whenever you’d lay in bed together.

For you, gripping his jawline pulled you two closer, crotches colliding too. It peaked Joel’s interest, his eyebrows raising between the groans against your lips. Joel’s jeans made it difficult to tell, but it was clear you were hard, just as hard as he was. That got him to smile into the kiss, proud he could get you really erect quickly.

You parted your lips from his, only a few inches apart. You used the moment to catch some air, something you knew you wouldn't be granted later the further you proceed.

You questioned his smile, "What?" "Nothing," he says, his accent rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Just you". He waits a moment before throwing himself back into the fray, wanting your lips to be sealed with his.

Aggressive, he pushes you harder against the dresser, unintentionally crushing you moments before dipping down to grab your legs and halting you onto the wooded surface. The dresser creaked, not adapted to a person being onto but that didn't concern either of you. The man caress your thigh, slow and aimlessly, while his other hand yanked at the front of your underwear once more.

He wanted you to take them off so badly and you didn't waste a moment. You shook yourself, getting enough room under you to slip them off. Joel helped, his steaming breath hitting your slowly exposing skin made you pick the pace up. He help fully get them off, letting the cloth hit the ground. His gaze fixed on your now exposed erection made him forget to breathe.

“Now your turn”, you said.

Rubbing his hands down your legs, he reaches down for his zipper to unbuckled his pants. His belt clicked and his pants loosened, dropping everything done to the floor with a thud. He swiftly took his underwear off too, slipping it fully off and sliding everything off to the side with his feet.

You let out a shaky exhale, your eyes so baffled by how hard his cock was; rock solid and strictly standing upward. Your started pondering if you could even take it. Under these conditions you would have to take him raw. There had to be something to use, you thought something to make it easier for him.

“Hey”, Joel’s voice soft on your ears. He tilts your head up to hold your gaze, “Eyes on me.” He slowly caresses the features on your face, adoring just how amazing your eyes looked and how kissable your lips were. Those lips, looking at them intently he slips his thump across the bottom half. He wanted to nibble on them, gently bite to leave a mark on them; to leave evidence of his pass doings.

He used his other hand to play with your cock, making sure you were staying hard for him. You assisted him with your palm overlapping his; working in unison. It was subtle and worked to keep you both pleasured while focusing on the man.

Joel dipped his finger between your lips, “Open your mouth, baby”. Your lips separated and he slid his finger in. A bitter taste hit the roof of your mouth as he swirled his finger around. “Get it nice and wet for me. Gonna need it for the hole of yours.”

So this was the alternative. Normally you and Joel would talk about using some sort of cream for sex. With seemingly none around to use, your mouth would have to do. You started sucking on his finger for a bit, his thick finger, took up a good portion of your mouth. Not enough to suffocate like his cock, but enough to make you think about how to manage your tongue’s movement. After the first finger he switched it out for another, a small line of saliva leaking out every time he’d pull out.

Three finger were soaked now, three fingers you were sure would break you, more than his cock would. You shiver, trying to estimate the width of his fingers with that of his cock. It served no purpose other than question your capabilities. What good did that do you, especially now?

Joel releases your cock, and trails his hands down to your balls. You knew where he was headed, this wasn’t your first rodeo with Joel. You lifted your leg up, leaning back onto one elbow to keep yourself upright. Joel effortlessly threw your hovering leg over his shoulder, getting a view of what he’d been dying to see. Your hole, albeit at an angle was still visible and accessible which was the only thing that mattered to Joel.

The man, looked to your eyes for conformation, he wanted to make sure you were ready. There wasn't a hint of denial in your face, Joel loved that look.

Coming into close contact, he circles around your entrance. His rough fingers toyed with your hole, allowing the sensations to prepare you for his soon to come entry. God the feeling alone was making you wish he just put himself inside you, knowing it might hurt but still wanting him to push deep in.

No longer waiting, Joel pushes a finger inside, slowly. You narrowed your brows, the walls of your ass being breached caused a slight spark in your stomach. His finger slid relatively easily, getting your breathing to become shakier than before. It was nothing you couldn't take and his finger was satisfying, it might've been enough to make you cum. His second finger though, made itself known too, pushing in with the first.

You winced, wishing Joel had warned you. Two thick fingers inside was about right, it felt about the size of Joel's cock at it's hardest. Staying with this rhythmic push and pull inside your hole made you believe you were ready for him to fuck you. But one other finger remained, one still damp and set to go.

A yelp escaped your lips feeling the third join the other two. It hurt for sure, causing you to throw your head back as a jolt reaction. You bump the glass pane behind you, the light outside barely shining onto the side of your face. You reached up to grab at Joel's collar, the fabric bringing some level of comfort with it's pure softness.

"Relax..." the man groans.

Fuck you wanted to, but how could you when the man was expanding your ass with every thrust. It made you grip his collar tightly as you kept your eyes tight to prevent it a tear from falling. The feeling was both painful and enjoyable, the tingles running up your stomach never ceased and neither did the sting in your hole.

You started to tell, no, insist that he fuck you. It escaped your mouth through a whine, a part of you wanting him to just remove a finger or two to let you relax. You knew it had purpose, you knew why he was pushing your limits. The longer you held, the easier it would be for him to push himself inside of you. Still you begged, "Please...Joel...take me, just fuck me."

Through your closed eyelids you couldn't see the man, shamelessly smirking, "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it, sugar pie."

You gasp, "Bad".

He groans, "Yeah?". He licks his lips, "Want me to go really deep in there, want to me fuck you real good."

"Uh...huh"

He pushes fingers deeper than usual "How badly?"

You gasped, "Really fucking bad. FUCK".

Joel groans, acknowledging your plead. If you wanted it that badly, he wish you told him sooner. He pulls his fingers out, the sounds of your hole getting him excited. It was wet now, just the way he liked it. In one swift motion, Joel flings your other, idle leg over his shoulder and yanks you forward until your backside was against his crotch. His cock, bumping into your balls got another sound out of you.

You relax into the dresser the best you could, letting your elbows rest and leaning your head back until it was laying against the glass again. It wasn't the most comfortable positions for your neck, you didn't pay much mind to this though as Joel began running his hands up your thighs. With your legs so close to his face, he also started leaving kisses and bite marks you knew would be visible the next day. He wasn't about to let you off without at least some marking, whether it'd be visible later or hidden by your clothes didn't concern him.

Breathing hard against your skin, his gaze turns back to his hard-on. He reaches for it, while overlooking your body. He lines it up to your hole pushing, not inside of you yet, but rather around the exterior.

Again with the teasing, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes but refusing to try. Did the man not tire of his own nonsense? You shifted your hip toward his cock, physically telling him to knock it off and shove it in you.

He locks eyes with you then, seeing your desperate and longing expression. You chewed down on your lips, seeing how the man's eyes had darken since last you laid upon them. He just smirked, looking down between your legs before pushing himself in.

It hurt but not as much as his fingers. The aftermath of those three invaders acted as a testament to how well you could still take the man in strides. For what it was worth, they did make it easier for him to slide into you.

He slipped in and out easily, smooth like butter. His thrust started methodically, getting familiar with your hole's interior again. He groaned, his cock pulsating against the edges, trying to find your sweet spot.

He wasn't able too, it wasn't that easy. You had laid there making hush moans that could only be audible for anyone within the room. It was striking and incredibly hot to Joel hearing you try to conceal your voice. It came off is if you were going to burst, like you were going to scream out his name, that was something else entirely.

Thinking about it gave him a surge, a rush that rapidly increases his pace. His hips smacking up against your ass, created a sound that vibrated your body. Each smack, was music to the man's ears, meld together now with your rising grunts. It probably was the best thing he'd ever heard.

You were losing it on the other hand. Your body trembled, your eyes became hazy, your mind completely in shambles; a mess best described it all. So much so that you had no idea what was even happening, questioning what was even real.

Were you becoming stupid with each thrust or did you completely lose your mind to him. His strides were beginning to make you see stars, more pleasing than the ones you'd see in the sky. A sudden overwhelming feeling rushes from your stomach all the way to your head, the strongest sensation you've felt all day. It made you feel light, like you had been consumed by the clouds.

This strange halt in your mind lasted for a minute before coming back from being on autopilot. You were semi-confused as your body was on a softer surface now. Your body lays flat, Joel's entire weight on top of you. Your senses were coming back to you.

The dresser was no longer your resting place but rather it was now the bed. Joel had lifted you up moments ago, still inside you, and crashed you both onto the mattress. Surprisingly that didn't snap you out of it, but what was even more confusing was the wetness near your stomach, just in between your stomach and Joel's. It was quite sticky. Wait, you stopped your mind from racing, ignoring Joel's rough groans in your ears for a second. You already came, you totally did. Your cock didn't feel restrained nor was it in any desire need to let loose any longer.

Shit, you thought, not realizing the man had satisfied you. You got lost in thought due to him hitting your sweet spot, it explained why your mind went into a frenzy. The feeling sent you over the edge again, jolting you back to reality this time; he hit it again.

You cry out as a response.

"Fuck, I'm gonna blow, I'm gonna fucking blow". Joel groaned.

You couldn't speak a word, it was too much, too much to bear. You dug your nails into the back of his shirt and pulled him closer with your legs around his waist. Your strength was dwindling, and you didn't have the voice to tell him to finish. If he kept it up any longer you were surely gonna cum again.

Joel's voice was deafening against your ears, his rhythm completely erratic and harsh against your hole. He went all out, posting himself up onto his elbows and thrusting into you like it was his last. He could feel the sharpness on his back, a deep sting from you nails pushing further into his skin. He watched as tears rolled down your face, wanting nothing but to wipe them away. He was right there, he could feel it rising up.

A few more rough thrusts did the trick. Joel grunted, holding his breath for a second as his cock convulsed before blowing. It came out fast, faster than he expected, squirting strings of cum in succession against your interior. He squinted his eyes, as he came quickly back down to your neck.

Joel's cock had settled, just as the two of you were. Exhausted beyond belief, you felt weak, one of your slipping off the man's back. You both relish in each other's touch, your breaths becoming steady at last.

The man's body shifts, causing you discomfort from still being inside of you. He reaches down to pull out, a quiet groan breaking free from your sealed lips. He used his other hand to cup and rub your cheek, his way of showing his gentleness after the affair. The man's cum oozed out, running down onto the mattress. You could feel how wet and loose it had become. Compared to the last time Joel had fucked you, you weren't as messy as you were now.

He then looked over to the side, seeing the towel you had used from earlier. He grabs it and wipes away the stains on your stomach.

You let out a sigh followed by locking eyes with Joel. They looked a lot more calmer, vibrant even just by his soothing demeanor.

As he finished wiping you clean the corner of his lips rose, "We should go eat."

Just like that, he had nothing left to say, acting as if nothing just happened. You scoffed at how quick the man could go from wanting to devour you to being a sensual man who wanted to give you the world. You weren't ready to rise from your position, not yet. You yank the towel out of his grasp before pulling him back down onto you.

Dinner can wait, just a bit longer.

[eluxcastar]

The little brotherfication of Dottore

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: menace little sibling 2: electric boogaloo

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child dottore, he's kinda clingy (and traumatised), use of dottore's suspected real name (possibly confirmed Idk)

୨୧﹑words :: 1.1k

someone on the tags of the Capitano post said Dottore so Dottore comes next, then probably Pantalone and then Signora unless I get a request or something for someone else

all little siblingification posts

As a child, Dottore's interests were seldom accepted. He was shunned by teachers, avoided by his peers and scolded by his own parents. It's not hard to see why, but he would not simply give up on his curiosity, especially not with you backing him. Admittedly, even you find it a little strange, and he can see that, but the way his eyes light up whenever he tells you about it and his excitement to be able to talk to someone finally has you pushing that aside very quickly.

How much of it do you understand? Not a word, but the point is that you listen at all. He clings to that and treats you like his only friend, which considering how unpopular he is with kids his age, is just about true.

Zandik would sit down with the one or two books he managed to scrounge for information and practically recite their contents to you. It is well beyond what you were able to follow, but if he notices, he doesn't tell you. Why would he want to? Having someone smile while he shares all of his hard work and perseverance is all he wants. He wouldn't sabotage that.

He's quiet when idle, however, with years of being shut down showing through as he stays swinging off of you. Your arms and legs are basically a hanging post to him, no matter how heavy he gets and how close he is to feeling like he could dislocate your arm right out of the socket. It's his way of making sure he doesn't get lost from you and playing around. Like a puppy, he never seems to realise he got bigger until you physically can't pick him up.

It upsets him to find he is now effectively permanently grounded, as his father will hear none of it when he asks him to be picked up, but he can't get stuck on that forever. Zandik doesn't want you to hurt yourself trying to get him off the floor, and pestering your parents only makes trouble for you.

He will not at any point allow you to stop playing with his hair, the other idle action between the two of you as you wrap his loose blue curls around your fingers. Zandik likes to read while he deals himself over your lap like an intrusive cat, mostly because he wants to get your attention and sometimes wants to annoy you. He spends half his life griping for your attention, pulling on your clothes and waving his hands around in your face until you ask him what he wants, quite irritated. He's always giggling about it too.

You always make time for him, especially when he wants to see the Aranara he gets so excited about. He might burst a blood vessel if you don't take him. Your parents don't want to hear of his childishness, though they prefer it to everything else he does. However, they won't take him themselves, so it falls to you. It is a special trip that takes several days of you experiencing life in the rainforests, glimpsing into the luxury of Sumeru City. It is then he proves to you that regardless of whether you take him or not, he'll burst a blood vessel anyway because his excitement is immeasurable. You're pleased enough to see him so happy, however.

Your love is unfortunately not enough to get him friends or the approval of everyone else. Usually, people think of you as polar opposites because of how 'troubled' he is, even if there's not that much that's different about you at all. You are Zandik's only person to confide in as he's grown so resentful of everyone. Somewhere in his mind, he still believes all that they say about him no matter how many times you wipe his tears and tell him you love him.

He doesn't believe that could be true. He believes all the things people say about him and how horrible he is. Nobody could really love a person like him, right? Zandik asks you as much, if you really love him as you say you do. Of course you do. It's just hard for him to accept that's real when he's so isolated.

Really, you haven't seen him for years now. You visit him while he is attending the Akademiya, and bring him food that you used to make him as a child. Even for only a few days, your company is exactly what it always has been. Zandik spends those days telling you everything he's learned and about how everyone else is repulsed by it and believes he's nothing but trouble. The difference is that he became used to it and began to believe what you would tell him about them being old-fashioned.

You cry when you find him there, having not seen him in so long and having spent all of the time since looking for him. Zandik is taller, older and has a scar that tapered down his face. You cry when you see that too, and it startles him into thinking you don't love him anymore if he isn't as cute as he used to be. That is untrue. He quickly learns the reason you were crying was something as minor as not being able to protect him from it, not being there to care for him.

That's so silly, isn't it? He doesn't need you for that.

He really wishes you'd never come back, in fact, that you'd given up and gone home content to live your life without him, but you couldn't, and it has you seeing him be expelled from the Akademiya. Zandik doesn't want to come home, so you don't make him.

Again, he drapes himself over your lap like an attention-starved cat and allows you to play with his hair while he wallows in his misery.

Zandik will figure something out eventually. He always does. If figuring it out entails abandoning himself and accepting an offer to go to Snezhnaya to move to a place where he will have the facilities to do whatever he wants, then that's what he'll do. If figuring it out requires that he leave for a time, then it'll be fine, as you tell him. He'll mail letters to you.

He'll wait for you to find him, no longer Zandik, but no less your little brother.

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

[py-dreamer]

...soo...

ok um technically this doesn't count at least in my timezone cause over here its already past midnight... um...

regardless...

weee!!!

I figured I'd make each of these mofos like individual post rather than make one really long reblog making it kinda hard to sort through and just list them using one tag instead.

So I suppose technically y'all get a double whammy today! Just gotta wait quite a while for it, heh...

So with this one I definitely did focus more on cake than the outfit. But hopefully you guys can still see the skrimblo

Anyways those are kiwi fruits, if you couldn't tell, don't @ me pls this is like one of the few times I've drawn fruits. Oh, and that black thingy? It's a tapioca pearl from bubble tea!! I think it's possible...

At first I wanted a more vibrant teal/green for the frosting and a lighter cake color similar to Mk's slice but that bright teal clashed hard with the kiwi fruit so I switched it out for the light light teal instead. Idk what flavor it'd be maybe like a more minty whipped cream.

Cakewise, it is darker than Mk's so I imagine it to be less airy, possibly more dense. Maybe like a ginger? Give any suggestions, but probably something funky for our funky girl!

Those 3 blobs with the weird cookie face on it is meant to be grape tanghulu with a dragon cookie on it! The rest of the cookies are as expected, good ole sugar cookies, though with the gold dragon I was having some trouble since Idk where to put the balloon since it left an empty space so I had to fill it with another cookie that would barely show, so yeah. That was fun

As for the dollops of frosting, I thought Mei is spunky fulunky, and a rich girl to boot! So let her have some pizzazz! I thought it appropriate

I think the balloon and dragon came out nicely, had to look for a reference for the dragon though. They're meant to be a paper decoration on a toothpick originally like Mk's cloud but at this point I leave it up for interpretation

Not much to say about the outfit, pretty similar to Mk's.

I know the KNY girls in their arts had skirts but my friend and I both thought Mei would look better in pants. (Not that she can't wear dresses, she slays in anything just that we thought she'd wear pants in this situation)

And I did try adding a little green skirt but it looked wonky and I didn't want that, bleugh

So I settled for compromise, making her like overcoat/vest thingy longer/ wider and gave her leggings so she also doesn't blend into the cake lol

And um life updates! I had like 4 tests today, I'm not kidding.

Good news is, tests for now are over!

Bad news is, still have an assignment to do...

Again, I'll do my best to keep this up. They are very fun and get my creative juices flowing I feel but no promises!

[savebylou]

Hi❤

I've never posted or reblogged anything at all ever because I didn't see the point and I find the thought so scary. This is like my safe space - and exept from sending an anonymous ask sometimes (It was not until quite recently I had the courage to and felt safe enough to do so.) - I kind of don't want anyone to see me. But now I am considering to start reblogging posts that I like instead of just liking them. Because I've seen a lot of posts recently about how important it is for fandom and tumblr itself.

I know that there's probably a lot of posts out there about how to use tumblr, but do you have any tips about how/where to start? And can you go back and write tags on your post after you have posted them or is that impossible?

Thank you for being here, I think you are very important to this fandom and I love your blog. Hugs from me❤

Hi anon! Sorry for the late response. First thank you for sending your ask, the last part of your message make my day, I really need it that. I think is amazing you had find the courage to send asks and interest to reblog content that is wonderful. This is a long post so answering below resources of how to tumblr and tutorials:

I totally understand the feeling of just wanting to see content, I was a lurker for months before I really have the motivation to start being active and it can feel intimidating sometimes because is not something we used to do, but with time you start to feel comfortable.

For resources here are some:

1.This post explains some basics of how to tumblr, how to use the tags, some suggestion in your profile and just general recommendations of how to behave on tumblr.

2.For personalize your blog: I recommend this post of making your dash in chronological order and this one about shorter posts. Also how to put some basic info in your bio (I will said that you don't need to put some much details of you, not even your name depending of how much you are comfortable to share, but the basic is just changing your profile pic and put some info like what you like or something along those lines so people know you are not a bot).

3. For using gifs in posts this is very useful.

4. How to find a post.

5. Protect your blog from AI resarch propouse.

6. I like this post reflecting on the reblogs, how your blog is a space to collect your shiny fandom objects. I see it as like my dairy of the fandom, post and reblog what you like to have this as a memory.

7. In case you want to make a post but don't want anyone to reblog your post.

My advice on how to tumblr:

1.Curate your own experience: Follow the people that you enjoy their content, filter the tags that you are not interested to see (I will put below how to), in case you keep seeing content for someone you disagree and don't like unfollow or block them.

2. You can reblog without the need to write tags or you can write tags, that is up to you.

3. Always be kind and if you don't like a post don't engage with it, ignore it.

4. Enjoy! Tumblr is to have fun, the moment that starts to not being fun, reflect of what you need to enjoy it or put some boundaries that you need so it doesn't affect you.

5. Don't overthink it. It feels very intimidating when everyone has their own mutual bubble but this is a very welcoming fandom if you follow people that you enjoy.

6. Try not to worry so much about follows, likes and reblogs. People come and go, you stay true to yourself regardless of who follows you or don't, is hard to get someone to follow you especially at the beginning but just try to focus on your blog and having fun.

7. Don't be afraid to interact, send asks, or talk in the tags, people enjoy it as long as your are kind. I will also say don't spam the asks hehe, if you want to share your thought make your own posts as well.

8. If you are a creator: In case you want to create something and share things do it for yourself and no one else. Is hard to get people to see yor posts but still don't lose the joy to share content regardless if people see it or not. I will add that for post of your own creation add tags so more people see it, for example if is about louis put the tag #louis tomlinson (there are also some especific tags that other blogs follow to reblog creators let me know if you want them).

Tutorial:

-Filter tags: This is super useful to not see content that either you are not interested or is triggering. First you go to Settings>Account

After this you go to the part Filter Tags and click on the edit icon on the right.

It appear a space where you can write the word or words to filter, when you are done you click on add.

After that it will show you this:

You can add filter tags as much as you want or remove them in case you need it. On your dashboard the filter content will appear like this:

Only if you click on view post you will see the content otherwise it will always look like that the filter tags. The only problem is when people don't use tags so you can't filter those posts.

-How to edit tags: About your question on edit the tags after, you can totally go back and add tags after. Here is how:

This is a post of a reblog I made, in the right corner there is a icon of a pencil that means you can edit, tap there.

It will show you either your tags or the post without tags:

You start writing in the add tags. The trick for the tags is that you write your word or phrase and to end your tag you tap the # that will automatically save that tag and let you go to the next one (there is a limit of words for each tag but you can still write in the next tag). When you finish you click on save and your tags will be save.

And because my brain is half a meme a funny post about reblogging.

I hope this is useful and not very confusing. Let me know if you have a specific question and I can make you a tutorial or share resources.

Thank you again for your ask, your motivation to want to reblog and for your sweet message it means a lot.

I hope you have a lovely day/afternoon/night. Sending you a big hug too.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Skepsis_Ree! @skepsiss has 16 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 15 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @skepsiss:

The Last Strange Thing

It's Snowing In Hawkins

Long Road Ahead

House to ourselves

Modern Problems, Modern Solutions

"Bailey's fics are phenomenal and they don't get enough love!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @skepsiss answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

a) Why does anyone latch onto any pairing? Something about Steve and Eddie grabbed my attention like no other ship has in years. I’ve always liked Stranger Things, but I never shipped anything from it until season 4 and until I saw the on-screen dynamic of Steve and Eddie. It felt so fun, and I just constantly saw Steddie art popping up on my dash, so I was looking more and more at it until I just said OKAY, I’M GOING ALL IN and started writing private fan fictions for just one of my friends who encouraged me to post them. b)Why do I still write Steddie? Probably because of my pals Eddy and Jess who talk to me about the lads day in and day out <3

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m really bad at reading fan fics, to be honest, and I don’t actually enjoy reading tropes. The closest thing to a trope I like to read is probably just “they’re in love” or “they will fall in love.” I like good stories, regardless of the setting or the trope.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Does angst count? I pretty much just write angst! I love drama, angst, and exploring miscommunication! Supernatural elements are also super fun, and of course, I love horror, but those things feel more like genre rather than tropes. But I am also a sucker for a happy ending, so you can sort of expect that from me.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

My fav fic is “No Regrets” by @/strangersteddierthings I loved it so much that I made a graphic for it, and Jess uses it as a banner for the fic now!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I try to avoid tropes in my writing, (unless you count drama and angst, lol), so I’m not really sure how to answer this. I’ve never written a classic “there is only one bed” or “coffee shop au” or ANYTHING like that, so maybe I should try and do an actual, classic trope. I don’t think I’ve ever, EVER written a REAL trope before, tbh. I’m actually really curious what people would suggest for me to write, if anyone has a suggestion, I’m all ears!

What is your writing process like?

If I’m looking for a story idea, I usually play the “3-word game” to generate an idea. It works like this: I ask someone to give me 1 word that is a Person (priest, character from a show, sister, etc), a Place (NYC, a house, tombstone, etc), and an Object (pen, houseplant, knife, etc) and then I try and connect those 3 things. That usually helps me generate an idea and develop an interesting story. My other method is… I have wild dreams and wake up with a fully-formed scene in my brain, and I deconstruct that scene in order to find out how I can create a story to get to that point. I also write super fast, so I try and get the idea down on paper asap, or I’ll lose interest and never write it. If I’m writing for a Big Bang or something, I have usually finished writing that fic like… months before I need to post it.

Do you have any writing quirks?

A say “though” a lot, start sentences with “so,” and say “a bit” or “a little bit” in my writing a lot. An example would be “He wasn’t alive though, he didn’t ‘have a life’ to speak of, so this was what exactly?”

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

As soon as I finish!!!! I have a hard time holding back….

Which fic are you most proud of?

That I have posted? Probably “The Last Strange Thing.” It is my longest one. But I have one that I will be posting soon that I am very proud of that I have been working on for a while called “Senior Year” which I’ve been writing on and off since November 2022. I finally buckled down and finished writing it for the Steddie Big Bang and I’ll be posting it this year!

How did you get the idea for The Last Strange Thing?

“The Last Strange Thing” was written for a Reverse Big Bang in collaboration with @/llamalpaca. They created an amazing art piece of Steve and Robin in apocalypse gear, and it got the wheels turning in my brain about an apocalypse AU which reminded me of a conversation I had with a pal about “The Last of Us.” It inspired a whole tale in my brain about Steve and all of the “Stranger Things” party existing in a “The Last of Us” world, so I mashed them together and started writing a story.

When writing The Last Strange Thing, what was something you didn’t expect?

I plan out my stories pretty thoroughly, but something I feel is a very “weak point” in my writing is “action scenes,” so I really surprised myself by even ATTEMPTING to tackle something like “The Last Strange Thing,” which has so much action in it. At first, I sort of assumed I would avoid action as much as possible and make the story about the journey, but as I plotted things out, I just kept making plot points that involved more and more action so when I sat down to write it… I was really surprised that everything flowed together so well and the action felt really natural. Lots of people even complimented my action writing, which felt amazing, cause I’ve always felt it was a weakness!

What inspired It's Snowing In Hawkins?

“It’s Snowing In Hawkins” was a request for a mini-Steddie Winter Exchange where a secret exchanger submitted three requests/tropes/inspirations, and you got to choose from them. One of them involved a snowman-building contest, and Eddie “schooling the younger members of the party.” Another part of the request was that they DID NOT WANT ANY ANGST, so that was a big challenge for me! So it was all fluff, and I thought giving Eddie a slightly ADHD-sideways assignment from “snowman” felt fitting for him. Thus, snow-dome and Steve and Eddie getting some private time in the snow together. That, and at that point, I had never written “virgin Eddie” before, so I thought it would be super cute to explore.

What was your favorite part to write from House to ourselves?

Oh geez, this one is almost PWP, but I think probably just the adult-domestic side of it. Just two dads… getting to be dads. Their young kids are away for the weekend, and they get to take a nap together? There is something so… luxurious about that as an adult (I don’t have kids, but working full-time doesn’t give you enough time for naps either) that feels so nice and REAL about that, haha.

How do/did you feel writing Modern Problems, Modern Solutions?

I really wanted to channel shitty-teen energy. This was the most TEENAGE ANGST AND TEEN DRAMA story I’ve written. Everyone in the story is properly a teen in this, and I dug deep to remember what it felt like to be a teenager again. So I guess what I was feeling was… teen spirit.

What was the most difficult part of writing Long Road Ahead?

This is a really emotional fic, actually. Probably the hardest chapters to write were chapters 2 and 3 where we see the intense yearning between Eddie and Steve and how both of them truly believe that nothing would work between them—Eddie because he thinks Steve doesn’t like him, and with Steve, it is because he is terrified about being queer. I think the toughest thing about writing this was challenging Steve’s intense internal homophobia. That’s something that isn’t explored a lot in fic, and it does not feel good, so I get it, but I think it’s realistic for the 80s. Steve being really scared about his own feelings would be something a lot of boys would struggle with in that era, especially as a handsome, sporty guy who really thinks he is straight up until that point where he falls HARD for his guy friends uncontrollably. It’s difficult to write characters who have polar opposite opinions compared to yourself, but I find it really interesting, and it makes it really fun to write them GROWING OUT of that mindset.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I don’t think I can pick a line because it has been too long since I have written any of those fics, but scene-wise, I think one of my favourite scenes is from one of my stories called “Tooth and Nail” where EDDIE is the one struggle with the idea of being queer and Steve is the one who has “come out” first. Anyway, Eddie is sitting on one side of a door, and he has no idea if Steve is listening to him or not, but he is confessing all of his feeling of “I messed up, and I don’t know how I feel, but I know I messed up and I’m sorry.” Also later, he cries about it to Steve and gets so embarrassed he pulls his shirt over his head to hide the fact that he is crying, and I still think that is adorable. I really like both of those scenes.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

a) If you haven’t read “Tooth and Nail” you should, it’s older but up on my Tumblr. b) New project wise though!!!! I HAVE THREE NEW ONES! c) “Batter Up” just dropped on June 16th and is a 14,000 word fluff fic for the Steddie Summer Exchange. It’s about Baseball!Player Steve and Rockstar!Eddie meeting and falling in love. d) “Momento Mori” is my Wayne & Steve (with Steddie of course) fic for the Stranger Things Big Bang that will be posting in July, so keep an eye on my Tumblr and/or my Ao3. My artist @/the-aphelion-archives has some really cool art being cooked up, so stay tuned for that! e) And last but not least, my Steddie piece “Senior Year” will be posted for the Steddie Big Bang at the end of this summer/early fall during the bang with art made by @/metalfreaks86! This is my 50k fic that spans from just after Season 2 to after Season 4, and involves a lot of heartbreak, and first loves. Keep an eye on my Tumblr and Ao3 for that one too because we do not yet have a release date.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to whoever nominated me! I often feel like my fics aren’t for everyone because I tend to write for a more serious audience and tackle tougher topics and that just isn’t an overly popular medium in fan fiction––which is fine! Because fan fiction is escapism and I know people use it to feel good, and sometimes you don’t want to read sad stuff. So, I really appreciate people who take the time to read my sad stuff (that ends happily every time, cause I also like happy things haha), and enjoy my hard work. Genuinely, every time I feel like throwing in the towel because I think I’m writing into the void, some little kudo-kween pops up and reminds me that my writing is appreciated. Thanks gang <3 Also!!!! I am ALWAYS accepting requests. Anyone and EVERYONE (anon or not) is welcome to pop into my inbox on Tumblr at ANY TIME to make a Steddie fic request, be that a trope, a tiny Steddie idea or whatever. And if you’ve made a request and I’ve forgotten… please ask again!

Thank you to our author, @skepsiss, and our anonymous nominator! See more of Skepsis_Ree's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[macabr3-barbi3]

God, That's Good!

Chapter 3: My Friends

Alastor has something that belonged to the barber in a past life- and Lucifer makes a deal.

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

Tags: uhhh revenge? brooding? Everything is going so slowly right now, I promise it will pick up after we do our shows this weekend! (Thank you to @fraugwinska for her Show Week knowledge and making me wait and not post everything written as soon it's done- I'm probably not going to be getting much writing done this week because of rehearsals and shows so she is keeping me on track! I LOVE YOU FRAU)

The decor in the apartment in the back is more subdued than the front- still a lot of red, but the things that hang on the walls are more tasteful- paintings and newspaper clippings line the walls of the hallway, more soft jazz emanating from somewhere deeper into the apartment. “I found them upstairs when I purchased the building and shop from my mentor,” Alastor says as he leads Lucifer back. “He did a better job than I have of keeping people out of the place, so they were undisturbed when I went up to rummage around. I could have sold them, you know,” he adds, casting an eye back to Lucifer. “But they were such high quality, I wasn’t sure I would even be able to get what they were worth. Any profit is a profit, I suppose, but I wanted to make sure they were done justice- and I’m glad I had an inkling to hang onto them!”

He leans down into a chest at the foot of his bed, and Lucifer realizes that he’s been led into the man’s bedroom- he hardly has time to blush at the sudden intimacy before Alastor is standing again, looming over Lucifer when he turns with a decorative box in his hands, held gently between their bodies. His voice catches in his throat when he recognizes the walnut, the delicate wood burning that adorns the lid, the lovingly engraved ‘DD’ in the bottom corner.

He was a fresh twenty-one years old when he decided that he wanted to be a barber, to Judge Cain and Adam’s disappointment; they wanted him to join them. But they had supported him in his decision regardless, presenting him with these razors at his and Lilith’s wedding as a gift, a way to start his business on the right foot with the finest tools that money could buy. Lucifer had cried receiving them, the Judge had cried at his emotion, and Adam had been quiet and pensive- which, he now recognized, was likely due to the legalized relationship between himself and Lilith than any familial emotions at the gift. 

He was near obsessive in his care of them as his business started and took off- he would allow no one to touch them or clean them, taking a soft rag to them after close each night and storing them adoringly back in their box. They stayed in the barbershop, away from where a curious Charlie could accidentally grab them and hurt herself or anyone else. Lilith teased him about it constantly, claiming that he loved them more than he loved her, and he would smile and pull her into his arms and mutter about how the razors were less likely to talk back to him. And she would smile and laugh and pull him into the sweetest kiss right there on the couch, and in that little bubble everything was perfect.

They’re heavy in his hands now as he opens the lid and extracts one from the box, Alastor silent and observant when Lucifer inspects it, noticing a spot of blood on one of the handles. Not from himself- he made sure they were clean before he put them away every night, which meant that sometime in the last fifteen years they had been in use. He makes an inquisitive noise in his throat, something not quite anger- it feels suspiciously like jealousy- bubbling in his chest, and Alastor makes his soft humming noise. “My apologies-  it seemed a shame to let them sit in disuse! I admit I’ll occasionally pull them out when my own blades will not suffice.”

Lucifer doesn’t answer- he doesn’t mind, truthfully. The thought of them having just sat in their box for fifteen years- unused, uncared for, alone- made him far sadder than the vague dismay at someone else having used them. That they hadn’t been stolen, reclaimed by the Cain family when he was sent off and Lilith passed, was a miracle. They were still here waiting for him after all this time- the only thing that was still here upon his return, even if his family wasn’t. 

He opens the blade, the sharp edge catching the light and glinting in a familiar way. They were beautiful instruments, and had been such a thoughtful gift from Adam and his father. To think they would give him something like this and then still do what they had done to him… an unforgivable betrayal. “This is… all I have left,” Lucifer says, his voice thick in the space between himself and Alastor. “Of my life before.”

“Well, you have it back now,” Alastor says, and when Lucifer makes eye contact with the baker his expression is almost tender, a soft smile on his face while he’s watched Lucifer sift through his wild thoughts. “What will you do with it?”

“I will have my revenge.” The last word is nearly hissed, and when he looks up he half expects to see Alastor watching him with horror. But his expression hasn’t changed, the air between them charged with adrenaline and Lucifer’s wrath. He’s shaking, he realizes, the hand holding his open razor trembling mere inches away from Alastor’s abdomen. The baker’s face holds no fear though, calm and relaxed despite the sharp object in Lucifer’s hands. “I apologize,” he mutters, taking a step back and closing the razor, placing it carefully back in the box. “You have nothing to fear; I would never-”

“What, hurt me?” Alastor’s smile grows, a mischievous smirk as he looks Lucifer up and down. “No, I wouldn’t think so. Who else would allow you to stay rent free in the lodging above their shop?”

Lucifer’s hope rekindles. “You mean it? I’ll pay rent eventually, I can start shaving again perhaps- but knowing my plans as they are, I wouldn’t want to bring any trouble to your doorstep. Is there anything I can do to repay the favor?”

Alastor waves him down cheerfully. “Nothing at the moment, good fellow! We’ll call it a gesture in good faith for now- perhaps down the line I may have a favor to ask of you and you can square up then. How does that sound?”

“Deal!” He steals one of Alastor’s hands from under the box to shake it, his grip firm in his enthusiasm. His mind races- there was one less problem to worry about with Alastor’s generosity. Now he had to figure how he was actually going to access Adam and this Beadle character; perhaps if he could get his business running again the pair of them might come in for a shave. He could prove himself an accomplished barber somehow, gain a bit of a reputation and lure them to the shop above the bakery with tales of a free shave…

And then he would have them. 

From there he would find Charlie. It didn't sound like they kept her locked in the house all of the time- perhaps when she was out on the town he could approach her, explain who he was and what had happened to him, try to build the father and daughter relationship he had wanted for them when she was a girl. He had been so excited to watch her grow into her own person, the perfect accumulation of the best parts of Lucifer and Lilith. He would never get that now, the progression of her growth, but she was still his Charlie- he would love her to the day he died, even if she turned him away when she found out who he was.

A throat clears, and Lucifer realizes that he’s still clutching Alastor’s hand. He lets go, a blush flaming his cheeks as he coughs awkwardly and steps away. “Do you have the key?” He asks, just to say something, and Alastor chuckles before he reaches into his pocket for a keyring that he holds out. “Lead the way!” Lucifer steps aside and allows Alastor to lead him back down the hallway, through the connecting door to the pie shop.

Husker has returned, polishing glasses behind the counter. He nods to Alastor and casts a suspicious eye at Lucifer as they approach the door. “As you know, there’s two entry points- the door off the back that leads directly to the apartment, and the one off the front here that leads to your shop.” He disconnects two keys from the keyring and slips them into Lucifer’s hand. “I had the keys replaced when I took over- who knows what kinds of people my prior mentor allowed to have access?”

He looks down at the keys in his hand- not the familiar gunmetal gray that he and Lili had obtained from the owner, but a rich black that was smooth to the touch. “Right. I’ll… I’ll be right back, if you don’t mind waiting down here?”

“By all means!” He steps aside to let Lucifer pass, and he feels eyes on him all the way up the stairs, until he’s turned the key in the lock and entered what used to be his barbershop.

Carnage. From the years of vandals breaking in, as well as the shattered mirror on the floor from where Lucifer had fought off the police when Adam had them sent after him so long ago. Broken glass littered the floor, his combs and towels scattered around the room, the door between the shop and their home cracked down the middle and hanging off its hinges. Tears blur his vision as he steps through the doorway, most of their furniture and decorations left undisturbed. Charlie’s drawings have fallen from the wall and the refrigerator, family ‘portraits’ of the three of them holding hands, various animals and bugs and buildings that she came up with in her imaginative mind. He and Lilith had always made such a show of praising her for them, their sweet girl with her art and the little songs she made up and-

He turns away from the living room, heading back to the bedroom they had all shared, Charlie’s bed separated from theirs by a simple room divider- her walls are also covered in her drawings and scribbled song lyrics that she had come up with. His and Lilith’s bed is against the far wall, as far as they could get from Charlie so their more amorous activities didn’t disturb or wake her. Lilith had always wanted more than this place for them- that was part of why she wanted to move North, where property was cheaper and the spaces larger. She wanted Charlie to grow up in a proper house, not a one bedroom apartment off the side of his barbershop; she wanted to be a proper homemaker, a housewife, something she claimed couldn’t be done in such cramped quarters.

But they had all been together, the two of them in such deep, desperate love, unaware of the tragedy that was coming for them when Adam decided that he had had enough of his unreciprocated longing.

It’s too much. Lucifer stumbles back out of the apartment, through the barbershop, nearly falling down them in his haste. “Ah! What do you think of the place?” Alastor asks from his position at the bottom of the stairs, and Lucifer collapses onto the last step with his face in his hands.

“I can’t do it,” he says. “I can’t be there, in the apartment- there’s too many memories, too much sadness and nostalgia and… I just can’t.” He meets Alastor’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “I appreciate the generous offer but I’ll have to find something else.” 

A smile. “Nonsense, my dear! If you’re amenable to the arrangement, I do have a spare bedroom in my living quarters that you’re welcome to move into. I do occasionally have other matters to attend to so I won’t be home all the time, but you’re welcome to use the space as your own.” He doesn’t take the keys back from Lucifer, holding his hand out and pulling the shorter man to his feet.

“That’s… too kind,” Lucifer says, and again something scratches at the back of his mind telling him that the situation was too good to be true. But he has few other options if he wants to be close to the barbershop, and no chance of any place else allowing him to stay without money. “Your mother clearly raised you well, to be such a giving soul.”

Alastor laughs. “Perhaps I just really want to cash in on that favor you now owe me,” he says slyly, eyes narrowed like they’re co-conspirators in on a secret plot. “Come now- I’ll give you a proper tour!”

They go back inside, and Alastor mentions to Husker behind the bar that Lucifer would be his personal guest in his apartment out back- “what the fuck do I care about that?” The man had grumbled, and as they passed him Lucifer saw him take a full swig out of one of the bottles behind him. Alastor shows him to the spare room and the bathroom, leaving him with his razor box and a spare shaving soap.

He takes one of the blades out again, setting it behind the faucet while he lathers the soap with scalding water and spreads it across his cheeks and chin with his fingers. Opening the razor, he’s careful as he brings it to his skin- he already feels more normal than he has all day, and the first swipe across his stubble leaving smooth flesh behind is a blessing, a token of grace in a day of hardships and strife. He shaves his own face the way he did others; quickly, smoothly, efficiently. A few strokes and he’s finished, completely bare faced once again and looking nothing like the man he had been before.

Which felt… fitting. Because he wasn’t Damien Diggory anymore; father to a daughter that wouldn’t recognize him from a stranger on the street; husband to a woman rotting in the ground; friend to a man that had betrayed him and ruined the life he had once known.

There was only Lucifer Morningstar now- and there was work to be done.

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

[maplerosekisses]

I was reading your tags on that post and WHAT THE HECK, YOU WERE AT DASHCON??

pls tell me everything

Lol, you're probably going to be disappointed, I'm afraid. I don't have the juicy stories for you.

Dashcon is one of my favorite memories and one of the best convention experiences of my life. Here's a post I made about it at the time.

I was around for the Friday night donation thing but I stayed outside the room with my friend Jenn, standing there in our dresses because that was supposed to be the formal dance, wondering what we should do, and eventually going to check that our hotel room was guaranteed regardless. I don't know what was said inside, because we both felt that going in wasn't a good idea.

I was also in the panel room waiting for Nightvale for over an hour while the cast was arguing with staff about payment, which was not properly explained to us when the staff member finally told us that the show was cancelled.

Those were disasters, but I've had more annoying-in-the-moment experiences at my own local con (not bigger actual administrative disasters, just things that were more frustrating to me as an attendee)

I don't know anything about the person who peed in the ball pit but I do know a lot of the rumors about panel topics and content were lies. I know some invited guests had bad experiences with travel compensation and some people only bought a badge (an expensive badge) for the Night Vale show and were left with nothing. I also remember on Sunday morning I was approached by a very sweet Cecil cosplayer who liked my wtnv shirt and wanted to let me know they were putting together a fan panel to replace what was supposed to be a cast q&a shortly. I didn't attend because there was another panel I wanted to go to, but I kind of wish I had.

I got to meet up with one of the best friends I had made on Tumblr and we had the cutest emotional airport meeting hug. I was first introduced to @my-graceless-heart during a panel hosted by the same friend and I would not have survived the fall of 2015 without them. I have one of their books on my shelf now, and on my purse at this moment I have a pin that a con buddy gifted me when I lost my favorite Sam Wilson pin on Sunday of the con. I bought more art at Dashcon than I had at any previous conventions combined.

The panels I remember most vividly happened later in the evening, and the lighting in the panel rooms wasn't great, so those memories are soft and almost cozy. There actually weren't that many people at dashcon, so the panel rooms weren't overfull and conversations were easy to participate in. Every panel I attended was fun — I've never had that experience at another con.

My local convention, which I do love, is technically an anime convention. And every year (I haven't attended since 2019) I encountered people I find extremely uncomfortable to interact with, who I might even feel unsafe with in a less public place. Every person I talked to at Dashcon was kind and fun and I felt at home around them.

Dashcon had some of the worst administration of any fan convention, probably ever, and a lot of people had terrible experiences that I don't want to invalidate. But it also had some of the best panels, best artists to buy from, and best attendee behavior of any convention I've ever been to. Those memories are precious to me and if I had a choice to go back and do it differently, I would not change into my prom dress on Friday night, I would stay out of the dashcon tag on my phone, and I would guard that Sam Wilson button with my life, but I would absolutely choose to do the rest all over again.