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strawberryscribblesandwrites · 1 year ago

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Vampires vs Bath time

Marko x reader x Paul

Summary: your two blond vampire boyfriends visit you and things get a little steamy ;)

Author's note: I might do full smut part two we shall see

A cool breeze ruffled my hair, the smell of the sea being carried by it. That was one of the few perks of living right near the boardwalk, the fresh smell of the salty ocean.

Another perk was that I was close to my boys.

Ah, my boys. How could I begin to describe my undead delinquents? Well you have David, the ring leader, charming sinister energy to him at first but once you get to know him he had a soft spot for his lost boys. Dwayne is the silent brooding type, he loves reading and riding his bike with the others. Marko and Paul, the messy mischief makers filled with a childish hyperactiveness to them.

When I first met my boys they were well they were kind of a mess, only washing in the ocean, living then with frizzy matted hair- they would occasionally use the public showers near the boardwalks, but after meeting them I was adamant that they should keep good hygiene, especially if we were to all be in a relationship. David and Dwayne followed my rule and would pop in to have a proper hot shower or bath.

Now, Paul and Marko.... would try their best to remember but they would often get caught up in their shenanigans.

My radio was playing a loud rock song that reminded me of a thrilling night in the cave. I danced around my room without a care until the sound of a shrill wolf whistle and catcalling made me jump out of my skin. Spinning around to face my open window, I saw none other than the pair of blonde vamps. Their faces and clothes smeared with thick blood.

"What the hell" I whisper shouted at them.

"Aww baby don't be like that, it was a good show" Paul said with a smirk while Marko was giggling like a mad man. "Hurry in before anyone sees you" I said, shaking my head trying to suppress a smile at their antics.

"Do not touch anything" I said sternly as they came through my window. I walked to my set of draws and got the pair some comfy clothes to chuck on while I put their blood-drenched clothes in the wash. "Let me guess you were playing with your food and got too messy?" I asked them over my shoulder. "You could say that” David said “We were starting to stink up the place" Marko mumbled, like a child being told off. "I think we could have gone a few more days before we needed a good wash" Paul said in a joking manner.

"Gross" I stated.

Putting the boy's respective comfy clothes on my bed, I turned to the pair to inspect which of them needed a more thorough approach. Looking at Paul, he didn't seem too bad. His hair was stiff, as were his clothes- covered in deep, sticky blood. But other than that he didn't seem too bad. Marko, on the other hand, had his shirt half ripped and his soaked jacket looked particularly crusty. His chaps had seen better days, not to even mention how his hair was stuck together, all matted with blood clots.

"Paul you're up first, Marko baby you need extra care. I swear if you boys continue this I'll start treating you like actual dogs and just put you in the paddling pool and hose you down" I threatened

"Woof" Marko said smirking causing Paul to explode with laughter

"Sugar, we aren't that bad" he said breathlessly between laughs. I just hummed in response, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bathroom. "Baby, you just stay there. You can read some comics on my desk, I don't mind you getting a mess on my desk chair" I told him over my shoulder.

Turning on the taps of my bath, I added some soap and set some shampoo, conditioner and body wash on the side of the tub.

"Strip" I said pointing to the bath.

"Oooh, no need to be so snappy. If you wanted me naked you should just ask nicely" he said in a seductive tone.

"Not tonight casanova" I told him, causing him to pout.

I walked out of the bathroom giving him his privacy to get in the tub. Waiting, till I heard him shout through the door he was ready. I opened the door to collect his clothes.

"Hey baby, do you think you can wash my hair?" he asked softly. "Of course I can sweetie" I smiled.

Popping my head back into my room after I had put Paul's clothes into the washing machine, I was met with the sight of Marko, with his feet kicked up on my desk engrossed in one of my many comics. I made my way back to the bathroom, knocking on the door and waiting for a response before making my way in.

Paul lay in the bath, his wet hair pooling around his broad shoulders, his face and chest absent of the blood that was there earlier that night. "Hey Paulie" I said softly as I kneeled by the bath. He gave me a sweet smile as he sat up giving me better access to his head.

I truly loved nights like these with my boys. Sure they were killers, but they were also the boys that always treated me with love and care.

Kissing Paul's shoulder, I leaned for the shampoo, squirting some on my hand and massaging it into his scalp, causing Paul to let out a soft groan, my nails raking across his head."Have I told you how much I love you?" Paul breathlessly groaned as I started pouring water gently over his hair. “I'm always happy to hear it baby” I said, kissing his shoulder again.

I continued rinsing his hair until it was free of soap, repeating the process with the conditioner. “I could get used to this” Paul sighed, as the water sloshed round the tub as he started to stand up. “Well, I'm glad to hear that because I would prefer it if my boyfriend didn't smell like a corpse when I see him” I chuckled, wrapping a towel around his waist before he stepped out of the bath. “Aww, don't you find the smell of rotting sexy babe” he teased, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his bare chest. “Hmmm. Nope. I don’t think it is” I joked into his chest.

“Come on pretty boy, Marko needs a bath and a good scrub” I said, kissing his chest, causing a deep rumble to spread through him.

“Your clothes are on the bed and the hair dryer is in my desk drawer” I said, opening the door of the bathroom for him.

I leaned down putting my hand in the now lukewarm water to pull out the plug and let it drain .

Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe of my room, I watched as Paul moved over to my desk where Marko was sat. Paul leaned over him to get to the draw, allowing Marko to quickly lean up and kiss his jaw. “You smell nice” he told him. “Thanks bud” he said with a soft smile, retrieving the hair dryer.

Moving back to the bathroom as the last of the bath water emptied out, I replugged it, filling it with hot water and more soap, waiting until the bath was full until I called on Marko.

After a few minutes, he hadn't come. I decided to see why he was taking so long, walking over to my desk and leaning down over his shoulder. “Marko baby, why aren't you coming to the bathroom?” I asked softly.

“Babe, this comic is bitchin’. Look!” he said, excitedly showing me the panels of two characters fighting. Chuckling, I kissed his temple. “That's pretty cool, but ya gotta get a wash baby”. He groaned as he put the comic down.

We both moved to the bathroom where the bath was almost full of hot water and soap. “Pass me your jacket” I told the blond vampire. He shrugged off his jacket with a sigh. Giving a quick thank you, I moved his jacket to the kitchen where I could hand wash it.

I knocked on the door of the bathroom and waited for the okay from Marko to come in.

“Hey” he said, as I entered the steamy bathroom. “Hi” I smiled.

Marko was sat up straight in the water. Unlike Paul, he hadn’t bothered to rid his face and chest of congealed and dried blood .

Kneeling by the bathtub, I soaked the washcloth in the water, bringing it up to Marko’s face and gently scrubbed his chin. “You're both such messy eaters, you know that?” I asked with a chuckle. “We can’t help it babe, we just get a lil excited is all” he stated with a smile. I chuckled slightly at his response.

Gently, I grabbed his chin and tilted his head back so that I could wipe the blood from his neck. Occasionally, I would re-wet the cloth until his neck was clear of blood. I placed a set of soft kisses on his neck, up to his jawline. Pulling away from Marko, I dipped the cloth back in the water.

“Why are you so gentle with us?” he questioned.

“What do you mean?” I asked, while tilting my head and smiling softly.

“Well, I mean, you’re so soft with us. You make sure we are clean, and I mean- well look at you. You’re cleaning a bloodthirsty creature of the night” he stated. “I mean, you wash Pauls hair, you give David massages when he gets worked up, you sit and read with Dwayne, and don’t even get me started on how soft you are with Laddie. You buy him allsorts. You treat us so well and I don’t understand why” he said bewildered

“Hmm. Well, the answer is simple” I said as I brought my soapy hand up to his cheek. “It’s because I love you all, so very dearly” I smiled sweetly.

Marko broke out into a wide smile. “Awww, babe. You love us? Ewww” He joked as he pulled me into a kiss.

Pulling away, I gave him a soft look.“Alright lover boy, I should really wash your hair now. It’s all matted” I said. Sternly grabbing the bottle of shampoo, I started to lather his hair. “It smells like you” he mumbled to himself as I continued the process of lathering and rinsing until there were no more suds in his hair.

Grabbing the conditioner, I gently raked it through his hair before grabbing a comb to get the knots out of his curly hair, being careful not to pull and hurt him. Once I was done running the conditioner through his hair, I rinsed it all out.

“Alright, I'm gonna give your jacket a wash. I’m sure you can handle the rest from here” I said. Standing from the bathroom floor, I moved to the door.

Before I stepped down the stairs I went to check on Paul, he was on my bed, towel still low on his hips as he read one of the comics Marko had earlier. He’d turned the rock music on my radio higher, seeming comfortable

I carefully made my way down the stairs with the rest of Markos clothes in my arms. I walked into the kitchen, putting his jeans and shirt in the washing machine and setting it away along with Paul's clothes. The sloshing sound of the washer filling with water engulfed the silent kitchen. Grabbing Marko’s jacket, I filled the sink with cold water and detergent then began gently scrubbing at the blood stains, carefully, so as to not ruin it. I hummed a random song I had heard from the radio earlier as I worked away to rid the jacket of all the blood soaking it.

I stiffened as a pair of cold hands made their way round my waist.

“What you doing down here all by yourself?” Paul hummed huskily in my ear as his hand made its way under my shirt.

“Ah! Paul baby, your hands are freezing” I squealed, trying to squirm away from him.

“Well, you can help me warm them up” He mumbled against my skin. Paul started to drag his lips slowly down my neck until he reached the junction where my neck met my shoulders. I hummed at the feeling of his soft lips on the crook of my neck, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

“I heard you and Marko in the bathroom” He whispered as he began kissing and nibbling back up my neck to my ear, causing me to let out a low huffy breath. “We love you too” he said as he pulled away, causing my hairs to stand on end.

Groaning at the loss of one of my vampire boyfriends body on mine, I turned to see his face lit up with a devilish smirk.

“Come on, Marks waiting” He informed, deciding I could finish washing markos jacket later. I dried my hands on a dish towel before following Paul up the stairs to my room.

As I entered the room I was met with the sight of Marko drying his hair with the spare towel I had given him earlier.

“Hey baby” He said joyfully with a smile. I chuckled at his joy. Paul had once again wrapped himself around me as he swayed to the rock music on the radio. He would occasionally place kisses along my neck.

Marko soon made his way over to us both. He placed one of his hands on my hips as he brought the other to my cheek to pull me into a passionate kiss.

The feeling of Marko’s lips on mine mixed with the feeling of Paul’s nibbling kisses and occasionally licking my neck made my head spin.

“Boys” I groaned at there attack as I pulled away from Marko for air, leaning my head back.

This only allowed the pair to continue their attack. Marko dove in, attaching his lips to the underside of my jaw.

Paul pulled away giggling. “Aww, look Marko, we have them melting” Paul teased, causing the other boy to pull away with a smile.

“You boys are the worst”. I groaned at the loss of their touch.

“You sure about that sugar?” Paul said as he tilted my chin to pull me into a passionate kiss. Marko trailed his cold hands from my hips up my stomach, the feeling of his cold fingertips trailing up my chest sent shivers down my spine, causing me to let out a moan into the kiss with paul.

Marko continued his path, his cold hand grabbed my chest with a dark chuckle. “Your heart is beating so fast baby. Do we really get you going that bad?” He said as he lifted my shirt and kissed my hip before he made his way up my stomach. The feeling of his soft breathing on my skin made my stomach muscles tense. It felt like the most heavenly torture.

He pulled away, making me internally groan. “You made them all whiney” Paul cooed in mock sympathy, causing Marko to giggle as he pulled my shirt off.

His nails gently dragged my hips closer to his face the cold tip of his nose hitting just above my hip made my body shiver in anticipation, Markos eye flitted up to mine then to pauls.

Paul's hand trailed up my chest his hand trailed up my chest to my his hands were soft as he moved my head slightly to the side and slowly licked up my neck before I felt the nipping feeling of his teeth dragging along the tender skin below my ear. Marko had pulled away from my hip his fingers digging under the hem of my jeans with a smirk “mmm hey paul do you think they are desperate enough” he rasped to the other vampire “nope” paul replied Marko breathily My room once filled with loud rock music was replaced by my own breathy wines and moans mixed with the raspy teasing giggles of Marko and paul they really did love teasing.

#the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #tlb x reader #tlb x you #tlb marko #marko the lost boys #marko x reader #marko x reader x paul #paul x marko #paul x reader #poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #slashers x reader

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autisticempathydaemon · 2 years ago

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Hello! Are you hyperfixated on RedactedAudio?

Do you want (need) to know who to follow to cultivate your dashboard and feed your gremlin brain good, good boyfriend roleplay content?

Cool, I’ve got you, and I’ve got hyperlinks. Buckle up.

(Note: This is by no means a comprehensive, objective, or complete list. I've only been in the fandom for six months or so. I have biases and favorites and limited time. I hope to update this list periodically, and if you feel I've missed someone, please feel free to reblog with your additions! I just would have loved a guide like this when I got into the fandom back in August and wanted to spread some positivity~!)

Fanfiction:

@angelnoodlesoup: she/her

Sophie is just one of the sweetest David stans that's ever existed who writes, like, the sweetest things about him. Her posts are just going to make you feel warm, fluffy, soft things in your heart area; give into the sweetness. Highlights: Sophie writes this adorable timestamp series of vignettes exploring Davey and Angel's day, but I'm particularly attacked to their David/Angel neighbors to lovers AU~

@arrowfleur

I was actually going to put Max in the visual content portion of this post, because they post delightful Redacted edits on Tiktok (under the same username, highly recommend~), but then they made a uquiz that gave me an existential crisis, so here we are. Highlights: This quiz sent my whole server for a loop and has made me reconsider my relationship with Lovely as a character and kin; it's a great time.

@batch-of-pengwings: robin/bird, she/her

Robin, an absolute sweetheart who makes all the fun ask games that keep the community interconnected and thinking and talking which is just really sweet and fun in the best way. Highlights: The Winter Wonderland game is the one who went around most recently, and it’s so fun to engage with the fandom and discuss who we think is stupid enough to get their tongues stuck on a telephone poll~

@bicyclepainting: they/them

Clover, the fandom's resident Smartass, doing the lord's work and reminding us all how fucking smoochable Aaron is on a regular basis on top of being the coolest astrology nerd don't give them your birth chart you will be perceived /lh Highlights: No one is doing Aaron/Smartass like they are; like, read and absorb the delicious, domestic delight that is them. I also recommend their deep dives into the Redacted bois signs, if you're into that; they're very thorough and fun to read!

@cashandprizes: she/they

My Lexi, my queerplatonic soulmate… She is on a quest to dissect and critique fandom brick by philosophical brick, and I both love her and fear her in equal measure. (That’s a lie, I love her infinitely, more than anything, but she is in fact incredibly intelligent and intimidating.) Highlights: Come for the scathing insights into gray-morality and DD:DNE’s place in fiction, stay for the stripper!Gavin fic they’re working on and their sequel to Lasko’s SexTember audio because she really wanted to make him cry

@ejunkiet: she/her

EJ, the very first of my Redacted loves~ Not only is EJ an endless well of kindness and positivity, but she also writes fucking bomb ass everything. You get angst, you get smut, you get fluff- We stan a multitalented, ace queen. (She also writes really cute CastleAudios fanfiction and original stuff as a cherry on top.) Highlights: EJ writes just some of my favorite David/Angel smut; she captures Angel's little shit nature perfectly. She's also written the sweetest thing of Damien meeting Huxley's moms that I can't get enough of~

@dominimoonbeam: she/her

Domini, truly one of the pillars of the fandom. I don't know what'd we'd be without her fantastic fics or her original novellas or her fantastic, beautiful, rarepair-creating brain. Highlights: God, there's too many to choose from! There's the Sam/Darlin fake dating AU that has us all gripped by the proverbial balls. There's the David/Darlin tattoo shop AU that has me frothing at the mouth because tattoo artists are stinkin hot. That's not even getting into their Cam/William fic, because god, that is such a good rarepair. We love two immortals finding love with one another, we really do. My personal favorite has got to be their Huxley/Darlin piece though, because Darlin gets to be cute and awkward and so, so loved in it.

@frenchiefitzhere: she/her

Frenchie, the fandom's unofficial (but basically official) Marie Greer, not only a gorgeous writer but also the creator of the most fantastical and unique fansongs (who makes original audio content to boot~) Highlights: We would be nowhere as a fandom without the Marie/Colm greer backstory and saga or her audios as the Greer Matriarch herself, but personally? Her Imperium!Lasko/Adam fic kind of changed my life, I'm kind of obsessed with it.

@friendlyfaded: he/him

Miles, the king and professor of the rarepairs! Beware, you will leave his blog wishing for fics for a ship that doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s unavoidable when you read the careful, creative, thoughtful way he considers seemingly silly pairings and makes them gorgeous. Highlights: I recommend his whole rarepairs with prof tag for a snack and his Sweetheart/Lasko/Milo fic for a whole meal~

@gingerbreadmonsters: she/her

Ginger, literally one of the sweetest, friendliest people in the entire Internet. I cannot adequately describe the absolute magnificent poetry of Ginger's prose, so you just have to read it for yourself. You will not be disappointed. Highlights: Ginger's Milo/Sweetheart series is for if you're feeling sweet, and her Vincent/Lovely/Gavin/Freelancer foursome fic is if you're feeling spicy~ Or if you're like me and are longing for an character we'll never see again, you can read her gorgeous, Doctor Who-inspired look in Marcus's mind.

@glassbearclock: she/her

Beans, also known as the best Milo/Sweetheart writer in the game. Their banter is taken from the mouth of god and first name Erik last name Redacted himself, and you could not convince me otherwise. Highlights: I’m a big fan of her sweet, wholesome, Jewish!Milo sick fic, but aYO her Milo/Sweetheart first date fic is so good y’all like goddamn Sweetheart phases through their door and makes Milo faceplant it on accident man that shit is so good

@horrorscoupes: they/he

My beautiful, darling Lotus, my gloriously deranged brother in arms (affectionate). The way they write each and every d(a)emons is just so -chef kiss-. Highlights: I think about their Regulus/Doll fic, like, literally every day, it's just yummy and depraved. Though, for a true taste of genius, for a galaxy brain treat, you've got to read his Shark!Vega/Pet masterpiece.

@k9rage: he/xi

My beloved Calico, our helpful Image Description fairy. He is just so cool and writes the most glorious smut like the world has ever seen. As of publishing, he's writing a Vega/Lasko street racing AU that's gonna be just smoke ash cinder fire hot. Highlights: You need to read his Damien/Gavin waxplay fic; like, this changed my life, I think about it daily. Ooh, AND his Aaron/SmartAss/Gavin threesome fic, because he didn't do all that thinking and imagining for us to not appreciate it. I'm also reccing @calicostorms, his other blog and spotify, so you can get at his stellar Redacted character playlists!

@lovelylonerliterature:

Lovely, absolute stand-out writer in the fandom! Would you believe they have a whole (as of posting) 95 works for the RedactedASMR fandom on AO3? There’s <2000 fics, which makes Lovely a whole five percent of the fanfiction on their own. That’s wild and so hella cool. Highlights: Literally everything they write. Explore their extremely well done masterlist, it’s beautifully put together, and you’ll find something you love. (I’m particularly fond of the Darlin/Vega fic they wrote based off of one of FriendlyFaded’s posts~)

@romirola: she/her

Dr. Romi, the one and the only and one of the legitimate sweetest goddamn people that has ever existed. You've never met a more polite, darling person in all your days. How did she write all these thousands of words of art while getting a doctorate? God, I wish I knew... if only we could also be so beautiful and wonderful and accomplished. Highlights: You haven't existed until you've read her Milo/Sweetheart Tangled AU; like, what are you doing here? GO. (I also deeply recommend her found family Shaw Pack + Sam fic, if you're looking for something that's still ongoing!)

@sealriously-sealrious: they/them

Chrys who writes- no contest I think we can all agree- the best Huxley that this fandom has ever seen. He is just so well-explored and so multifaceted, just the top-tier himbo content we all need and deserve. Highlights: Huxley and Freelancer at the aquarium, Huxley and Freelancer going camping, sfw, nsfw, whatever you want, we've GOT. (There's even some imperium!Huxley, if you're so inclined >:))

@starlitangels: she/her

Starlit, another absolute powerhouse of the fandom. Just look at this masterlist, I think there’s something here for literally every character. That’s what babes call RANGE. Highlights: The way they explore the Shaw pack is so fun; I’d highly recommend her fic exploring Gabe and his backstory or her fic exploring the Shaw’s future pups~!

@taelonsamada: she/her

A pillar- or should I say fence post?- of the fandom and just an utter peach. Always has a nice word to say and says the best nice words about Sam and Darlin- Highlights: Her nsfw Geordi/Cutie fic holds a special place in my heart (the blindfold? the gag? Be still my beating heart), but you haven’t lived until you’ve read her Shaw-centric Ranch AU~!

@teasandcardigans: she/her

Mads, another lovely creator that could be in either section of this post- that's how talented she is! Not only is she a lovely writer but she also designs the most fun Redacted stickers! Also, she's got the only Redacted fan tiktok that Erik has confirmed seen and liked, can't not mention that it's so cool Highlights: Honestly, there's too many to mention! A really popular of hers is a "What If" echo-esque reimagining of everyone's stories which is so fun, and my personal, biased favorite is her Alexis & Gavin fic hear me OUT-

@the-sugar-crash

Cait, out here doing the most and the best. They’ve run the Redacted Winter Gift Exchange for the past two years, connecting blogs who might have never spoken to each other, inspiring creativity, and spreading holiday cheer~ Highlights: I recommend taking a look-see through the “Redacted 2022 Winter Gift Exchange” tag- much thanks to Cait for making it possible- to consider if you’d like to join next year! Until then, there’s a compilation of their cute headcanon posts to inspire you!

@zozo-01: she/her

Zo, one of the sweetest people in the fandom~ Not only is she a fantastic writer, but she is also one of the friendliest people in the space! Constantly excited and supportive and positive and a joy to follow and befriend. Highlights: Her Sam/Darlin Deity AU is going to change the world and break some hearts, I just know it. (Just like her Alexis and Darlin meeting fic broke mine-) If you're not up to getting your heart broken and just want a friend, I recommend asking her about her Powerpoint of Bollywood scenes that could be Sam/Darlin moments~!

Fanart:

@andr0leda: she/they

Androleda’s art is so gorgeous in that most of them are uncolored or working with a smaller palette, and it just makes those colors stand out and the line work all the more elegant. Highlights: Their wolf!Darlin piece got so popular, and you can see why! It looks like the cover of a really cool YA fantasy novel. Also, her Sam/Darlin art just melts the heart- the gentle hand, the key around the neck-!

@artbykays

Kays, a fantastic artist who plays around with the prettiest, brightest colors and has the prettiest (hottest) fem listeners. They also have super fun Redacted playlists! Highlights: Their Sweetheart, Valentina, is kind of smokin hot, I mean look at her, but also good lord, have you seen their Warden like lock me up anytime hello-

@belovedbow

Bow’s art just makes me so soft and gooey inside I dunno. Their art is so pretty, and they always have the most expressive faces. Not to mention the colors- like, Bow uses the simplest but most emotionally evocative shades of pinks and blues that make me inexplicably feel things, and I love it. Highlights: Literally all their Davey/Angel is the sweetest, but I also have this deep fondness for their imp!FL and Vindemiator pieces, because look at these deep, mournful blues, they’re beautiful!

@cascadiiing: they/them

Atlas creates the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable characters on top of being the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable (platonic) sweetie in existence~ they’re so sweet and friendly on top of being so talented at such a young age, and I would protect them with my life. Highlights: Their Sam kind of makes me so lovesick, I could barf- he’s just that pretty. Their Alexis/Christian art is fanart of my own fic, I’ll grant you, but it’s also so fucking pretty look at the dreamy colors and it MOVES-

@claracatlady

Where would we be without Clara, like honestly- What really stands out about their art is- other than the overwhelming talent- the obvious thought and joy that went into designing the outfits. Only the best from our resident fashion design student! Highlights: literally everything. If I must be specific, the David design pinned to their blog is utterly ahdhkakshdjsk, and I am particularly partial to their Alexis design, because I love my beautiful, possibly complex lady okay-

@fregget-frou : he/they

Mal has the prettiest Listeners; I’m lowkey in love with all of them~ I love the way he does such fluffy, voluminous hair, and I dunno, all their listener OC’s have this fashion model-esque glamour and posture about them that’s really attractive. Highlights: Of their listeners, Mal’s Angel has got to be my favorite. Look at this fluffy-haired cutie! Look at this menace! I would also propose to them, they’re gorgeous!

@gwenifred: she/her

Gwen draws the most gorgeous, swoon-worthy Huxleys and is just a big sweetpea to boot. Her and Pali sharing OC’s and art trades here and on Twitter is a testament to how friendly and sweet the fandom can be! Highlights: Everything she draws is gorgeous, but you haven’t lived until you’ve seen her animation work!

@ice-palace-art: They/It/He/Dae

Darby has some of the most beautiful designs, I can hardly stand it. He creates the most gorgeous, realistically proportioned characters and listeners, and they’re just really smoochable okay let me live- Highlights: It has this one piece of Gavin and Lasko having a sleepover that fills me with the warm fuzzies every time I see it, and their Aaron design fills me with longing I am hopelessly in love with their dad-bodded Aaron.

@itsdaifuku: she/her

Y’all don’t even know the little happy stim storm Fuku’s art sets me on; like, all her art is so cute and joyful and somehow colorful even when it’s in black and white? It just gives the vibe of life and vibrancy constantly? How does she do that? Highlights: Literally, everything she draws is gorgeous and sweet, though her designs for the Shaws and their mates are so S-tier and so cute. (I’m also particularly fond of her designs for Love and Alexis, my favorite characters, I’m biased, sue me)

@mr-laveau: he/they

Laveau, my favorite Milo kinnie~ (Yeah, I said it out loud; I’m callin you out.) Charming, thoughtful, friendly, much more talented than they have any right to be when they’re also so funny and sweet, AND also writing at their other blog @bratty-telepath. You’ve never seen such a double threat. Highlights: Literally, everything he makes. All his designs are colorful and gorgeous and filled to the brim with deliberate, intentional details (though I am incredibly partial to their Alexis and Darlin designs and the parallels he included between them.)

@nais-doodles

Nai is a fucking blessing unto this fandom, and we are not worthy. You haven’t really lived, haven’t experienced all the pure, positive silliness that this hellsite has to offer until you experience Nai’s Redacted Actor AU. It’s pure serotonin, and we’re all here listening to Boyfriend ASMR, I know we could use it. Highlights: Other than said AU posts (which really are so fuckin good), have you seen their drawing of Vincent and Sam’s Monarchal ball? Ooh, and if you go to their tiktok under the same username, you can see some of the really cool dating sim they’re working on!

@nanowatzophina: any pronouns

Na’no is not only a must follow on tumblr, but I also highly recommend their tiktok if you wish to wade through the horrid cesspool of that app (I say with tiktok as one of my top social media sites- we have a codependent relationship) Their art is super cute and expressive, and I get massive gender envy from the way he draws hair and teeth. Highlights: Her aspec Freelancer is just so close to my heart; I adore Avery so deeply. Also, the way they draw imperium!Vega and Pet makes my heart fucking melt and want to jump out my chest- the size difference, my god

@obsessivedino: they/them

Mint’s contribution to the fandom cannot possibly be overstated. Their art style is just so clean and neat and with the cutest expressions, and I love their designs so much, especially for the d(a)emon bois I just ahhhhh Highlights: If you’ve joined the official unofficial Redacted Discord server, you’ve seen their adorable stickers reminding you to kick that ass or hydrate unless you want to die-drate, and you haven’t truly embraced life unless you’ve seen their two-year anniversary masterpiece. Ooh, or pocket caelum!

@palilious: she/her

There is no Redacted fandom or fandom list without Pali, and we’ve all accepted that. Her style is so uniquely and instantaneously recognizable as hers, and everyone adores it, including but not limited to GBA, Nomad, and Cardlin! Highlights: Literally everyone she draws is so pretty, though I have a soft spot for her Vincent or her Nomad drawings if you’re looking for more VAs to listen to!

@pearl-kite: she/they

Kirehn has the most huggable humans and the most awe-inspiring d(a)emons. The way she draws the d(a)emons with constellations worked into the designs and color palettes is just so gorgeous and purposeful and thoughtful. Highlights: Their Vega is so frightening but beautiful, you just can’t look away from him. I’m also particularly in love with their Darlin!

@queendread

Do y’all ever do this thing when you see an ethereally beautiful person and you have no words, all you can do is giggle like a vapid schoolgirl(gn)? That’s me with all of Anna’s paintings: no words, just awe. Highlights: I don’t even really like Gavin, okay, he’s not my type, but lord above, Anna’s Gavin is something else. Their Sam also has those Captain America, boy next door good looks I imagined, it’s like they took him right out of my daydreams.

@ryokoaoi : they/them

Ryo has the absolute cutest, most adorable art style, one can barely handle it! Everything they draw is just so pretty and so colorful and detailed and sweet. (Except the sad things, those are less sweet but gosh they’re still so pretty.) They also have this Magic Swap AU that they design that is so fun to read about! Highlights: Their swapped! Gavin and Avior designs are so fun, I adore them deeply, and if you need something to cheer you up, you can always depend on their DAMN pieces that always include a little invisible Caelum to bring you joy~!

@slushrottweiler: she-they

There is nothing like seeing Slush’s signature blue linework on your dashboard, it’s such a sweet treat- or spicy. There are also very good, very spicy treats. Her blog is a magnificent roulette wheel of blue surprises. Highlights: I love their Sam/Darlin stuff, especially this one because wowee them shoulderblades, but their HuxDami BA piece takes the cake.

@spookybeandoodle

Spooky has my whole heart and wallet and my other heart if I had one I fell in love with their rich color palettes and shading and Alexis right away and had to commission them. Could not recommend enough, they were a treasure to work with~ Highlights: I’m not biased- okay yes I am but not now their Alexis is fuckin smoking hot but also their Cam might be my favorite Cam look at that smile-!

@sri-rachaa: she/her

Rae is such a treasure to this fandom, we hardly deserve her. Her art is so ethereally pretty and delicate? The way she draws hair and noses and silhouettes- her line work is just phenomenal. Everything she creates is just a delight to look at. Highlights: The Southern Siblings AU is a gift, a treasure, a boon that cannot be ignored. I’m also a big fan of her Lovely OC who is ridiculously pretty~

@tankwolf : she/her

June has been posting fanart for only two months, but I’m already absolutely obsessed. I just find her monochrome character portraits so visually engaging and interesting. I would love so badly to be friends with her listener OC’s… Highlights: …or more than friends, because her Sweetheart is something else good lord. I would just love it if June could stop putting the hot people in crop tops please (but also don’t cause whoa)

@terrazaurio

All the fanart Terra creates is so bright and vivid and colorful and expressive, they’re really such a treat to see and experience. I’m a sucker for the colors they use, cause it makes my lizard brain all happy and go “shiny pretty happy.” Highlights: Everything they draw with the Shaw Pack is pure dopamine, like this one of the bois and their mates hanging by the pool. I am particularly attached to this piece from Milo’s HBS, because they’re so fucking in love, your honor, I love them.

@thefablefoxart : she/her

Angelina’s Redacted couple series is one of the truest delights of the fandom; like, they’re so colorful and cute and just adorably designed. I’m also deeply in love with the way she does hair. Everyone just has really fucking good looking hair, and I can’t get over it-Highlights: On top of the aforementioned couple series, I just want to bring attention to this adorable chibi Sam that she drew- it brings me so much serotonin- and their Darlin, Kai who I wish would just give me a shot okay I have a Southern accent too-

If you’re reading all the way here, I hope you found the post helpful and smiled while making your way through it! Or both! The RedactedAudio fandom is truly one of my favorite spaces on the internet; it’s so intimate and creative, and I’ve found some amazing, perfect friends here, so I hope you will too 💖

again playing around with the formatting please stop hurting me tumblr I’m trying to be nice

If you can see this, I love you, and you’re watching me try to format this post so tumblr doesn’t cut off the bottom of it please ignore the Android behind the emerald curtain go about your day

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted

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hadesoftheladies · 2 months ago

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Victim Blaming

Hoping I can keep this brief, but I have a habit of being thorough to a fault, lmao. Anyway, yesterday I had an unpleasant conversation with a radblr user who's online presence I have largely enjoyed at least, up until this point. She was frustrated with one of my posts, one where i joked about certain experiences i had with choice feminists.

She is referencing this post of mine in particular as an example of my victim blaming: (15) nearly all women who date men do so as a form of ritualized masochism: the lifeblood of female gendered socialization – @hadesoftheladies on Tumblr

I was, of course, upset at this, but I got curious as to whether or not the words I used in this post could qualify as victim blaming. I had this disquiet in me, which I usually have when a concept in my head is ambiguous and I'm struggling to define it. I want to draw a line somewhere because clarity is my one true love. So I did a little research on the general term.

First off, victim blaming is a term used in sexual assault/violence cases. That subject is the soil from which this notion of victim blaming grew into what we know it as today. FUNDAMENTALLY, victim blaming is when a victim of sexual violence is held responsible (either partially or entirely) for what happened to them. (Please keep that in mind.)

According to this article, victim blaming stems from several places:

-a desire to distance oneself from the possibility of being victimized

-a lack of empathy

-fundamental attribution error (FOA) which is the refusal to analyze external factors in favour of putting all the responsibility of the abuse on the victim

Also important to note, is that the end result of victim blaming usually results in the victim feeling ashamed or guilty for what happened to them.

Moving on, in the post this user provided as an example of me victim blaming, there's a note somewhere down there where another user called "eldopism" mentions a Lundy Bancroft quote about how victims need far more support than judgement, and how I shouldn't be making myself out to be a victim for something a man did to someone else.

maslows-pyramid-scheme also informed me that there were certain radblr users that had discussed this trend of me victim blaming straight women, so I think this serious accusation warrants a very fair and thorough response and I will use the above information on victim blaming to criticize this specific post i made about women who date men.

#1. Have I Blamed Straight Women for The Evil Men Have Done To Them?

In the above excerpt, I am drawing up a profile of a woman who is informed and not currently in a domestic hostage situation. The examples I provide are all of women I know who are unmarried and dating. One example I use is of a woman who was almost raped.

I talk about these women as active agents or "adults." They are capable of making decisions, perceiving threats, and are aware of the situations they've been in. I explicitly state that I feel anger at them, which DOES NOT MEAN I am ONLY angry at them. It is only that this anger at them is the focus of the post.

Now at a glance, anyone would say, "Yeah, this is victim blaming. You are clearly angry at a woman for almost getting raped." And I think in this case, I am partly to blame for not providing more context to that specific story.

At the point of writing this very emotional rant, the woman who was almost raped had resumed (to an even more extreme degree) endangering herself in the exact same way. When she told me what had happened, I was angry at him and horrified, but when I heard she'd gone on to be even more reckless, putting herself at more risk, that was when my anger extended to her. Both before and after the encounter, I and other mutual women in this circle, had discouraged her from fraternizing with him. This man was not attractive, neither did we find him particularly charming. They were not long-term friends and did not have any prior connections. He was a stranger that had no stake in her life. She had told us that leading up to that moment, she had not communicated what she'd wanted. Honestly, even now, I'm not too sure what was going through her head during all this and the sequence of events aren't adding up in my mind.

What I DO know is that he attempted to penetrate her without her consent and she froze as a fear response. Knowing that she found this potentially traumatizing, I wondered why on earth she then continuously went on to put herself in escalating vulnerable positions with other strangers in the exact same way.

So, victim blaming is when I would blame this woman for being nearly raped, but though I miscommunicated, that wasn't why I was angry. I was angry at this woman for disregarding this traumatizing experience. Consistently, even in the other stories, my anger is about women's decisions to re-expose themselves to predators POST victimization. Not about the victimization itself. I am not asking "what did you do to provoke him" but "why are you doing this again after what he did?"

I hope you can see the difference in both questions.

#2. Why Does She Do That?

The central theme of this post is the latter question: why the fuck are you going back? And please note, these are explicitly NOT domestic violence cases. These aren't women who live with these men or who's economic livelihoods depend on these men. These are important distinctions.

Of course, being well acquainted with theory, I know that none of our decisions are made in a vacuum. In many of my posts and also in this particular post, I acknowledge these external factors, which is why I called this cycle of "ritualized masochism" part of gendered socialization. I am explicitly acknowledging that this is a systemic issue that affects an individual's psychology, hence, interpersonal relationships. Literally in the first sentence. So I have not committed an FOA.

In this post, I also highlight the difference between me and women who make this issue out to be solely a matter of the moral failing or lack of resilience from these kinds of women. An inevitability that is better to just wash one's hands of. I DO NOT think flippantly abandoning these women to their self-destructive behaviour or acting smug about it is the right response.

#3. People That Love People Will Grieve

This post is PRIMARILY an expression of personal grief. When our loved ones are suffering or are hurt or are lost, we will, of course, feel personally affected. It is HEALTHY and IMPERATIVE that people who are supporting women or anyone, really, through difficult times or chaotic phases feel their feelings and air out their frustrations. Care-taking on any scale can and will get tiring because we are FINITE. We do not have unlimited energy to offer eternal support. That's the reality.

This anger and pain we feel is not coming from a lack of empathy but from the overwhelming presence of it. I feel for you so strongly, that every time you hurt yourself, I also feel it. When he hurts you, I am angry because I feel that hurt. When you hurt yourself, I fam angry because I feel that hurt. Because there is a part of me that is suffering as well, I get angry at the cause of that pain.

Apathy could never.

I wanted to provide an outlet to myself and other women who felt like me who had or were going through this grieving process and had frustrations as a result of having empathy while partaking in a seemingly never-ending cycle of torment.

#4. The Rescuer Isn't Coming

Which brings me to this next point.

Now I've made several responses in this thread already, but I really wanted to highlight that maslow's original criticism is that I was conflating an innate desire for a romantic relationship with men with femininity, and I was calling both ritualized masochism (which they are).

But this response really cements the absurdity of this situation for me; that is, the absurdity of choice feminism.

What really gets me about this particular response is how perfectly it poses the very same question that the post she cited says is impossible to answer: what can I do to make her life safer?

The post she cited is one that is lamenting the utter helplessness of being this support that never really improves anything because, at the end of the day, grown women will do whatever the fuck they want.

How can I make her safer when she rejects safety? How can the onus possibly be on me when I have zero power in this situation? I cannot criticize her decisions, I cannot herd all the men and shoot them into Jupiter, I can't stop her from going to club and picking these men up, I can't force her to date or believe me when I tell her that such a man is not good.

So what the fuck else is there to do but warn her? And knowing that my warnings are clearly falling on deaf ears, what the fuck else is there to do but watch or leave?

Do you not see the double bind. I am "protecting her" the only way I can: advising her to stay away.

Ultimately, it seems, maslow is upset that my solution to this whole problem is to tell straight women to forego this pursuit of a loving relationship with a man. She sees it as fundamentally self-centered, divorced from the interests and complexities of heterosexual dating and the rich inner lives of straight women.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no alternative. Radfems, of all people, know there is not. We know men do not rape because they lack education in consent. We know they rape because they want to. We know men do not abuse women because of any romanticized narrative of a tortured, guilty soul, but because it makes them feel good about themselves. Because they want to. We know men re-enforce patriarchy and misogyny, not because they "don't know" women are people but because it benefits them in some way. So WE KNOW that on a micro and macro scale, there is little we can do to appeal to men's humanity (or whatever's left rotting in its place).

So if men won't suddenly transform their hearts and rescue women, and if feminists and separatists can't get rid of men or force women to do anything, then who is left to protect these vulnerable women?

No one but their fucking selves. That's the truth. That's the point. Women are not to blame for what men do to us, but it is our responsibility to look out for ourselves because NO ONE ELSE WILL DO IT. No man is going to rescue us and no woman is going to resist the effects of socialization for us. Resistance and rebellion have to start from within and all I can do is inspire it however I can and seek freedom for myself.

The vision of separatism in feminism is one of women empowered to protect themselves, an acknowledgement of the fact that women only gain rights when we demand them ourselves. No man is going to change because we ask him to. At least, if he did, he'd be the rare exception. Which, you know, good for him. I can't be angry at a man for being genuinely good. It's always a win.

But separatism is a political strategy. "Let women try find a good man" is not. If most men are predatory toward women, then saying "find a good man among them" is shit advice. If it were a strategy, it would be a really shitty one because it CANNOT SCALE. Your political strategy should prioritize the majority of women who WILL NOT be able to find a good man that doesn't take advantage of them, otherwise, it's just elitism. Your personal hope in finding a good man is not a viable political/feminist strategy.

And if it isn't, then why are you demanding feminists take it as such?

#5. Love, Like Beauty, Is Pain

The comparison of femininity and dating men as ritualistic masochism was coming from the culture of women that romanticizes pain in love and beauty, insisting that these things are innate and inescapable, making them out to be virtues. It is glorified masochism and romanticized self-harm. The way we hurt our feet with heels, seek increasingly extreme ways to "correct" our natural physical characteristics and the way we put up with men. "Putting up with men" has been something we've been groomed to do by both our mothers, peers and men at nearly every stage.

This has become so familiar to us, that breaking free from this cycle is scarier than the anticipation of pain. This is also frequently a pointed source of my frustration in this post and other posts similar to it. This is why both femininity and sexual relationships with men are part of the same question and demand proper attention.

I am far from the first feminist to point this out, so I don't know why I'm being made out to be some sort of abuse-enabler for pointing basic feminist analysis like this out. It is this grooming that enables abuse, not advocating against it.

#6. Summary

-I committed no FOA.

-I have contextualized the suffering of these women and analyzed external factors.

-I have empathized explicitly with their pain.

Conclusion: Anti-separatist users continue to decontextualize my quotes in several other areas where context has been adequately provided (and I take responsibility for where it hasn't). The denotation of some of the things I said in this post can be accurately read as victim-blaming, but that is not my intention as one could tell from reading the rest of it. I have not called women who date or marry men anti-feminist, but I have called that decision anti-feminist/non-radical. You can be a feminist and have non-feminist interests or pursuits. That doesn't mean you're entitled to validation from feminists because we are women. Feminism is a political party, not women's club. And choice feminists keep insisting it’s the latter.

Furthermore, I don't mind people questioning my integrity, but I do sincerely ask that they bring receipts. :)

#radblr #separatism #femininity #radfem #radical feminism

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twstbookclub · 9 months ago

Text

Inked Blossoms

Summary: Jamil didn't think much of you when he received a flower basket. You were his new neighbor running a flower shop—nothing more, nothing less. So, why can't he stop coming by after visiting you once? POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Tattoo Artist x Florist AU, Tattoo Artist!Jamil, Florist!Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Mentions of Blood and Self-harm, Use of Flower Language, Jamil's POV Word Count: 4, 025 Main Reference for Flower Meanings: Boeckmann, C. (2023, November 17). What does each flower symbolize? The Old Farmer's Almanac.

And I thought the Riddle fic I wrote is my longest one 💀 I actually had this plot in mind in the same month as I thought of the Riddle fic, which was back in April of last year. I only put in one link here, but I fact-checked every flower I used in this fic with other sources. Admittedly, when I wrote this, I received some heartbreaking news that morning and I cried my eyes out. I may or may not have projected those feelings into this and incorporated my previous experiences here. To all the Jamil stans, I'm so sorry that my first fic of this guy is long and angsty. I hope you all enjoy, though 💕

Jamil stared at the flowers on his parlor’s doorstep. Pink peonies and coral roses filled the twine basket, along with a purple flower that he didn’t know the name of. The arrangement emphasized the purple flowers, while there were a few peonies mixed in with the roses. What piqued Jamil’s curiosity were the leaves that lined the edges of the basket. He squinted, subconsciously leaning down to peer at the blooms at his feet.

“... Is that basil?” He mumbled, confused about the inclusion of a familiar herb. It was something he often used in his cooking, particularly when he was roommates with Kalim back in high school. That boy’s palate was too refined for anything bland and ready-made, so Jamil always had to cook with spices and herbs. It came to the point that the smell stuck to his clothes, even after a thorough wash in the laundry. Not just his clothes—even his hair. He already had a meticulous process with his hair care and bejeweled braids, so it was a nuisance.

He shook his head, before he took the flower basket in his hands. The blooms jostled a little, and a gentle hand pushed a peony back in place. Something nagged at Jamil to look to the left, for some reason. When he turned his head, the sign of the shop next door caught his attention.

“A flower shop, huh.” That was new. Jamil vaguely remembered this lot being sold recently, but he never thought it’d be turned into a store like that. It used to be an antique store owned by an elderly woman. She minded her own business, despite the weird and judgmental looks he received for the henna tattoos that decorated Jamil’s tan hands and arms.

Jamil’s eyes darted from the cursive letters of the sign to the flowers and plants displayed behind the glass walls. The name of the shop was painted on one of the walls in gold—above some of the artful arrangements of red roses, white carnations, and calla lilies. There was a shift of color behind them, and he narrowed his eyes again for a better look.

Someone was tending to the flowers. He could vaguely make out the color of their hair and the verdant apron over a white polo shirt. With the large bouquets in the way, Jamil couldn’t see a face. Sighing and shaking his head, he walked into his tattoo parlor with the flower basket in his arms.

If all his time in the city taught him anything, it was that nothing in this world was free.

Still, Jamil couldn’t help but wonder what the purple flowers were. They reminded him of tulips, but the petals were thinner and pointed at the tips. The stamen was visible, too. It was a stark contrast to the blooming tulips he knew: blunt-tipped and oval petals without the stamen being visible. He made a mental note to search about them once he went home.

Jamil found out that the purple blooms were called crocuses, and he wound up finding a website detailing the meanings of every flower imaginable. The flowers replaced the lamp that used to be on the table next to his bed. Every morning, he’d wake up to the colorful arrangement in a vase with his mind stuck on the meaning of each flower.

Maybe he should see what the florist was like. If they were like the antique shop owner from before, then Jamil would just remain polite and ignore them whenever he could.

On a slow and quiet day in the parlor, Jamil flipped the sign and locked the door. He shoved the key in his pocket, while his eyes drifted to the flower displays and bouquets through the glass walls. A blur of white and green moved behind them, but he still couldn’t put a face to the florist.

Jamil would have to see if he was curious enough to put a name to that face, too.

A chime echoed in the store once he stepped inside, and an onslaught of fragrance hit him. He noted that it wasn’t as powerful as the smell of spices, ones that he can taste from the scent alone. Still, it was strong enough to leave him a little lightheaded.

“Ah, welcome!” A voice rang through the back, behind an open door that led to what Jamil assumed was a small greenhouse. Sacks of fertilizer and clay pots filled with flowers peeked out of the metal shelves. The sight was obscured by a green apron, stitched with the same cursive letters of the store sign.

Charcoal gray eyes met lively, cheerful ones. The gloved hands that gripped the door frame were smeared with soil, maybe even fertilizer. Dirt smudged your cheek, but his gaze drifted to your lips. Your smile—too bright to be natural—was difficult to look away from. Something churned in his chest the longer he looked at it.

“Oh,” you mumbled, which made Jamil look back into your eyes again, “you’re my next-door neighbor. Hi! I hope you like the flowers. I’m, uh…”

A sheepish chuckle left your lips, making Jamil’s heart lurch. He resisted the urge to scowl at the feeling. He just met you, and he’d rather not make a bad impression. The tattoo artist came to your store to meet you like a proper neighbor, not to antagonize you.

“I came by to say hi, and you weren’t there. I had to get the shop ready and all, so I decided to leave the basket and hope that it stays there—” You sighed, took off one of your gloves, and ran a hand through your hair— “and I’m rambling. Sorry about that.”

Jamil watched you, anxious and fidgety, and he suppressed a smile. There was something amusing about how you acted like a mouse: squeaking and retreating at any sign of danger. Although, he highly doubted that you saw him as a threat.

You were just… shy. You talked a lot, but you were shy.

“It’s fine,” Jamil raised a hand and smiled, practiced and polite, “and I appreciate the flowers. Thank you. It’s a beautiful arrangement—you have a way with bringing out their natural beauty.”

He probably laid it on too thick. It was a habit at this point: butter up people to ease them, to let their guard down. Jamil merely planned to meet this florist to satisfy his curiosity. He never considered the option of befriending this person, much less engaging in a long conversation with you.

Your face lit up, as if something dawned on you in that moment. Chuckling, you stretched out the hand without the glove and gave him your name. It was followed with a cheerful, “It’s nice to meet you! I hope we can get along, um…”

“Jamil,” he shook your hand with that same, practiced smile, “Jamil Viper. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He noticed your eyes dart towards his hand and arm, inked with the traditional motifs and patterns of his homeland. Under the sunlight that streamed through the glass, your eyes seemed to sparkle. Your mouth parted in a silent, “Oh.”

“That’s so pretty,” you blurted out and continued to stare at the henna tattoos. Jamil simply watched you with wide eyes, but the surprise disappeared in that same instant. Your voice, loud and happy, filled the silence of the room.

“The amount of detail here is amazing, and—Oh, there’s even more tiny patterns inside another pattern. That’s so cool!”

Even though this much praise usually annoyed Jamil (it reminded him too much of Kalim), he found himself flustered. A faint warmth spread across his cheeks as he watched you marvel at the tattoos. You raised a hand, probably to trace the design with a finger, when you paused.

Your smile was frozen on your face, as if you caught yourself doing something embarrassing. Your own cheeks flushed in shame, before you pulled away with a nervous giggle. Jamil almost laughed at how ridiculous you looked at the moment.

He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that called you cute.

It was supposed to be a one-time encounter. Jamil only visited your flower shop to see the person who opened a new business next to his tattoo parlor. He wanted to see whether this new neighbor of his was going to be tolerable or otherwise. One meeting was enough to deem you tolerable; someone that Jamil could politely wave to if you two happened to pass by each other.

So, why was he looking at a bouquet of irises and white jasmines right now? Why was he standing in your store on a Sunday morning?

“You’ve been coming a lot here lately.” Your voice rang from the back, much like how Jamil first met you. He looked over his shoulder to see you admiring the other flowers with a small smile.

“I don’t mind, really, and it’s nice to have you here. I just didn’t expect you to come here almost every day,” you clarified with a chuckle as you approached him. The telltale flush of your cheeks already told Jamil about how embarrassed you were to confess that. He watched you caress one of the petals of a hydrangea with a gentle look.

For a weekend, it was surprisingly quiet here. People flocked to your store during its first week, and Jamil observed all this in the comfort of his parlor. The window provided a clear view of what was going on, so he didn’t need to go outside. You became frazzled in a matter of moments—running around and arranging the flowers yourself—and that amused Jamil. Just a bit.

Still, you smiled throughout that hectic week.

Me neither, Jamil wanted to say. Instead, he answered, “It’s another slow day in my shop, so I decided to visit. I suppose it’s become a habit whenever I have nothing else to do.”

You chuckled, and Jamil pretended his heart didn’t skip a beat. He ignored the twitch of his lips, curling into a small smile. Oblivious to the look the tattoo artist gave you, you continued to admire the flowers.

“That’s fine with me. Besides, I like your company.”

Your shameless honesty was going to be the death of Jamil. The tips of his ears grew warm, and he tugged his hood over them. He already concluded that you were a thoughtful and considerate person after spending some time with you. You prepared tea and cookies, ones you yourself baked, every time he visited. Careful hands arranged the flowers by meaning and color, which already said enough about you. Being a florist sounded just right for someone like you.

Jamil briefly wondered what flowers you’d give him if you wanted to give him a bouquet.

He cleared his throat, mimicking a cough, before he shifted his attention to the irises and jasmines again. Ever since he searched the meanings of the flowers in that basket, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Can you tell me what these mean in flower language?” He asked, glancing at you from behind his hood. Whether you found this action odd or not, you didn’t comment on it.

With a curious hum, you leaned over to look at what Jamil referred to and smiled wider. You replied, “Ah, irises can mean wisdom, faith, trust, valor, and hope. As for white jasmines…”

You raised an eyebrow at Jamil with a mischievous grin. He didn’t dare entertain the thought that you were being adorable from the action alone. He didn’t dare hope that the gesture actually meant something.

“They can mean sweet love, and the person who receives them is seen as friendly and pleasant.” You paused, before you suddenly left Jamil’s side and reached for the adjacent wall of flowers. Before Jamil could say anything, you already extended a white bloom under his nose.

Wide-eyed and bewildered, he stared at the flower in your hand. It somewhat resembled a rose in full bloom, but the petals were shaped differently. Another amused laugh echoed in the room. You took his hand, inked with intricate patterns that crawled his skin like vines, and placed the flower in it.

Jamil realized that it was a gardenia. This species of flora grew in some part of the botanical garden of his high school. He was only familiar with it because he used to pass by the area to relax, preferably alone.

“I think this suits you, though.” You hummed and returned to the counter with a spin of your heel. Jamil watched you wordlessly as you disappeared into the greenhouse. From where he stood, the tattoo artist saw pink and white camellias peeking through one of the shelves. He nearly jumped when your head popped out of the door frame.

“Oh, and can you help me carry some of these pots around? They’re pretty heavy, thanks!”

It was only until Jamil got home that he searched for the meaning of the gardenia. The bright laptop screen glared at him as he entered the keywords in the search bar. He clicked on the first result and—

Jamil stared at the words with darkening cheeks. His mouth became dry, and his tongue was tied into knots. His hand slammed the monitor shut, before he abruptly stood up and left for the kitchen. He needed some water. He needed to not think too much into things. You were going to be the death of him, Jamil swore to that.

Still, the words were already seared into his memory: you’re lovely.

Jamil found himself visiting you whenever he could. You always asked for his help whenever heavy labor was involved. If it was anyone else, he would’ve felt annoyed. With you, it was just an excuse for Jamil to stay longer.

Fleeting touches, subtle glances, and shy smiles—it was like your own language. Not a single word was exchanged, yet it felt like you said more than Jamil could comprehend. He didn’t miss the moments when your hands lingered too long over his. He would be a fool not to notice that a cookie jar and a box of teabags sat on the counter each time he visited.

For the past year, you’d give him a single flower every day without fail. One time, after the usual tea, it was a morning glory. Another time, when you were particularly homesick and Jamil stayed to chat, you gave him a hydrangea. When he visited your house and took care of you when you became sick, you gave him a yellow lily the next day. He always brought them home, but it came to the point that a mishmash of flowers in a vase brought color and life to his workspace. It sat under the window, where it bathed under a patch of sunlight. He even considered buying another vase due to the sheer amount.

You gave him all kinds of flowers, but he’d never forget the first gardenia he received from you.

“That looks out of place,” one customer pointed out while Jamil prepared the needle. He already knew what he was talking about, but the tattoo artist still followed his line of sight. A soft smile stretched from one ear to the other, and he didn’t bother hiding it.

Without looking away from the flowers, he answered, “They’re gifts from a friend. It’s the only place I can think of where they can be cared for.”

He ignored the sly, knowing grin on the customer’s face. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Jamil gestured towards the chair and continued to prepare everything he needed for this job.

One sunny day, your storefront was crowded more than usual. Jamil paid no mind to the crowd as he pulled his hood over his head. Inked hands grabbed a bundle of flowers, tied with twine, from the table. They were placed far from the vases that decorated the parlor; just to avoid confusion. His eyes fell on the gardenia he drew on the back of his hand. Jamil added that some time ago, maybe around the past month. Still, it made him smile.

Jamil locked the door, then he instinctively looked at the flower shop. His heart stuttered at the sight of the flowers amongst the crowd. The vibrant and lively blossoms were like a splash of color against the dull tones of the city. What used to be gray pavement and monochrome buildings seemed to come to life with just a few flowers.

He blinked his surprise away, before he gripped the bouquet in his hands. The thrum of his heart and the sweat on his palms weren’t something foreign to Jamil. He always felt like this at the thought of you, even Kalim noticed the change in his friend when he visited once. Your smile flashed in his mind, and his own lips curled into a small one. His feet led him to where he knew you were.

Past the flower shop; past the crowd that lingered at the storefront; past the fresh flowers that gathered against the glass walls. Jamil’s feet grew heavier with each step, as if lead hit the concrete and left faint cracks behind. He stepped through the iron-wrought gates with a soft exhale. His grip on the flowers tightened. He considered going back to the tattoo parlor.

In the end, he thought he’d regret it if he backed out now. Blades of grass grazed his sneakers as he walked through rows of stones. Names were etched into each one, a reminder of who they were to the loved ones left behind. Charcoal gray eyes looked straight ahead. He didn’t bother looking at any of them.

It had been a year since that day, but he still remembered where you were.

Grass crunched under his feet as he stopped in front of an unassuming headstone. Engraved in the stone was your name—funny how he never knew your surname until the funeral. You never told him when you introduced yourself, and he didn’t pry. He even imagined you with his surname at some point, but…

Jamil swallowed the lump in his throat. He crouched on one knee and laid the bundle of flowers on your grave. The tattoo artist made the effort of arranging the colorful blooms in a way that you would. At least, how he remembered that you would.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, and he stared at your gravestone with that same lump in his throat. A sigh rang in the empty cemetery. A cool breeze carried the hustle and bustle of the city. The laugh that used to plague Jamil’s everyday life here was missing. It was gone for months now, but he could still hear it clearly in his head.

“Hey,” Jamil mumbled, clenching his hands into fists, “it’s been a while. I’m sorry I only visited today. It… took me some time to come to terms with what happened. Regardless, you deserved an earlier visit.”

No answer, Of course, there was no answer. You’ve been dead for quite some time now. That was an understatement, considering that a year has already passed.

Jamil’s stomach churned, and an insufferable heat filled his chest. His eyes stung. His nails pierced into the skin of his palms. The lump in his throat seemed to grow bigger, and he found it hard to breathe. Memories of your smile, your laugh, and the time he spent with you and your flowers overlapped in his mind.

He dug his heels into the dirt as he gritted his teeth. The sting behind his eyes grew worse. It was hard to breathe, and he found it harder to speak. He somehow forced the words out with a broken heart, pieces scattered along the ashes of what was left of you.

“You idiot,” Jamil choked out as his vision blurred with tears, “you could’ve called me to help you. How was I supposed to know you were still sick? How was I supposed to know you needed to carry that ridiculously huge flower display across the street? How was I supposed to know that car would lose control and—”

Jamil looked up to the sky with a clenched jaw, teeth clacking and shaking his skull from the force. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse whatever deity existed in this world. He wanted to forget how you looked, pale and bleeding on the street, that day. He wanted to erase that memory of you until his heart bled out and his voice croaked its last scream.

“—they haven’t found the driver. Everyone who knew you petitioned to keep the shop in your memory. Someone else took over, too. You don’t have to worry about your flowers anymore.”

Since that day, whenever Jamil looked at the ink that adorned his hands and arms, all he remembered was your loud voice and bright smile. Your praise and astonishment echoed in his head like a broken record player. He couldn’t count the amount of times he tried to scrub them clean from his skin. If that didn’t work, he scratched at them until he bled and the patterns were hidden under that shade of red.

In hindsight, Jamil thought that was idiotic of him. Love turned anyone into idiots, anyway.

Sighing, Jamil forced the tears back and looked down at your gravestone. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine you smiling and laughing again. The image of you, lifeless and still on the road, would become a scar that faded with time. He hoped it would be.

“I thought of giving you baby’s breath,” Jamil began as the lump in his throat returned, “along with forget-me-nots, and blue salvia. It would be a horrible contrast, but I also thought of adding pink carnations.”

He paused, before bitterly chuckling to himself. “I don’t have your skills, though. You were always amazing with flower arrangements. I couldn’t hold a candle to you, and I rarely tell anyone that. I didn’t want to give you something that was less than perfect—you deserve more than that, so I settled with sweet peas.”

Jamil knew he was talking to himself. He always found it ridiculous how anyone talked to the dead, even if he understood the necessity to respect the ones who passed. This one time, he understood why people did this. Jamil just couldn’t bring himself to accept the circumstances that led to that revelation.

“They mean goodbye in flower language, but I prefer the other meaning. Maybe, in another life, I would’ve bought you flowers for a date. I was thinking of asking you on a date before. Did you know that?”

Another bitter chuckle. Another shaky breath.

“I was supposed to ask you that day. I finally found the courage to try, and what did I see? You…” The words were stuck in Jamil’s throat. He couldn’t force the words out this time. The clamor outside and the harsh slam of his parlor door echoed in his memories. He didn’t want his last memory of you to be your dying breath. He’d rather not remember that at all.

Jamil shook his head and continued, “I apologize for that. What you need to know is that I like you. I may even go so far as to say I love you, and I’m sorry I never told you earlier. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

The tattoo artist sat down in front of your headstone. He didn’t care if dirt and grass stained his jeans this time. He reached out to trace the name etched into the stone, with the same hand where the inked gardenia peeked out of his sleeve.

“I like your flowers. I like all of them. I still keep them with me. I wish I told you that sooner,” Jamil mumbled, voice cracking at the end. A tear rolled down his left cheek and dripped into the soil. His shoulders shook in a silent sob as he breathed his last words to you.

“Thank you for a lovely time. I’ll never forget you.”

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

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abby with a clumsy gf who is always getting into trouble so abby takes it upon herself to protect her and is always gently correcting things her gf is doing 😵‍💫😵‍💫

OK LETS GO i am so clumsy i always have bruises :(

• i think abby would be looking out for you long before you were even in a relationship.

• you’d be a new arrival, and already you’ve earned a name for yourself having constantly be running too enthusiastically and falling, or tripping over nothing, or dropping whatever is in your hands etc

• and abby is super busy, but even she notices, it’s hard not to notice when she’s also taken aback by how pretty you are

• so she takes you under her wing, because she’s noticed people are kind of picking on you for it and she doesn’t like that

• ofc you’re like a lil ray of sunshine and you don’t even notice people are making fun of you for it which makes her even more fiercely protective of you

• “i see you’ve taken an interest in the klutz.” owen nicknames you, making conversation with abby when everyone’s grabbing food.

• “and by taken an interest, you mean keeping her away from assholes like you.” she barely glances his way, loading up her plate.

• “hey, i didn’t say anything. you know she’s gonna slow you down though right? that girls like bambi on ice.”

• she doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, so she stalks off to find you

• she starts trying to guide you a little, and honestly if she wasn’t so worried for your safety all the time she’d find your clumsiness adorable

• she’d be sending you off to do something for her but before you run off she puts a hand on your shoulder, making you look at her. “hey, look at me — slowly. okay? there’s no rush. go slow and watch your step.”

• you’d nod, carefully trotting away being extra careful of your feet which makes her smile.

• this continues through your relationship once the two of you end up together, and now she’s more comfortable with you she can be a lot more thorough and direct.

• she hands you a little box of supplies, it’s light and you immediately grab it tucking it under your arm. she doesn’t let go of the box when you go to move, looking at you with a kind yet stern expression. you stare back up at her with confused doe eyes and she takes your other hand, placing it under the box. “two hands, baby. remember what i said?” you nod, adjusting your grip and she nods back in approval. “good girl.”

• sometimes your clumsiness really gets you down, when falling has nearly cost you your own or someone else’s life. you find yourself curled up in abby’s lap after a particularly rough run in with a clicker, which could have been avoided if you’d watched your step. you’re crying into your hands and she’s shushing you, pulling your hands away so she can wipe your tears. you’d been brave until you’d gotten back to your room before breaking down to abby, which she expected seeing how shocked and distressed you seemed after she had saved you from being bitten.

• “its like my feet just move without my permission abby. i’m so stupid. it’s gonna kill me i—i can’t—” you spiral, sobs erupting from your throat as you clutch her hard like she might disappear.

• “you need to breathe, sweet girl okay? breathe with me, m’right here. it’s not your fault. nothings gonna get you, alright? not whilst i’m here.” she rocks you in her strong arms letting you cry it out.

• on a lighter note she gets so used to your antics that she can almost predict when you’re gonna slip or trip. you’ll go to take a step on some slippery ice in the snow and without even batting an eyelid her strong hands are on your waist, pulling you back into her. she says nothing, just points at the ice and your mouth makes a small ‘o’ shape, nodding and stepping around it.

• she’ll always tend to the injuries you get from being clumsy. always. no matter how tired she is, where you are, or how silly the mistake was. she’ll sit you down, pulling out the little first aid kit she keeps on her strictly for you and wipes down any cut or graze you’ve acquired. “how’d you get this one again?” she converses calmly, to show you she’s not mad at you. “was tryna climb a wall and i slipped.” you explain bashfully as she wipes your knee down. “alright. well be careful, don’t go climbing walls without me there again, yeah?” she looks up with you raised eyebrows as she unwraps the bandaid, making you smile and nod. “deal.”

♡

#anon #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson hcs #abby tlou2 fluff #abby anderson fluff

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princeoftheeternalbog · 8 months ago

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Presenting the Switch!Usopp agenda🤲 except mostly he's subbing here but if you guys want part two then ask

First post with uhm uh DON'T LOOK AT ME OKAY you know what, thats what you're here for pookie

MDNI or i swear to god i will turn your bones into jelly.

Seriously tho it's got some erm explicit acts under the cut do not open if you don't wanna read that.

Usopp is trembling underneath you.

You'd been at this for about half an hour now, bringing him close to the edge and then pulling your touch away. His biceps are straining where he tries to pull against the restraints you'd slipped on him when you first started making out, the cool toned rope contrasting beautifully with his warm, tanned skin. His hair is half falling out of it's usual ponytail, curls springing out to frame his face.

"Come on- just let me finish-"

His voice is wrecked and cuts off into a higher pitched whine as you give a particularly mean twist of your hand. He's attempting to glare at you but his watery eyes completely undermine the intent, making him look more like he's begging than anything else. You just giggle, shifting back to sit more firmly on his thighs so he'll stop bucking up so much.

"You were saying?"

"Oh fu-u-ck you- hngg" Your thumb slides over the head of his cock.

"That's not a very nice thing to say"

His head snaps up from the pillow, voice coming out sharp,

"Y- you want to talk about nice??"

He looks so pissed off, it's actually really hot, you don't really get to see him being serious like this. He starts to tug harder, now trying to gain some sort of anchor with his legs, thrashing slightly underneath you.

His suddenly renewed straining actually causes the headboard to creak and you decide that now is probably the best time to disarm him.

And on that note you lean down and take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth, keeping your hand at the base. Usopp shouts, bucking his hips hard, pushing himself deeper and he very nearly smashes your nose into his pelvis. You simply readjust, moving to lie between his legs and bringing your arms up to wrap around his hips and lock them in place. You start to suck harder, moving your head slightly but he doesn't really need much considering how long he's been on the edge.

"Oh my god- Oh my god-"

His chest is heaving now, breath coming fast and his voice is wrecked. You hum around his cock, to acknowledge him but also just to wind him up more before pulling off for a second, one of your hands leaving his hip to wrap around his cock.

"I thought you were my god hm?"

As you say it, you give him one long stroke and he throws his head back, groaning as he cums. He's straining against your grip as his back arches and you can feel him throbbing under your fingers as his release soaks your hand. His voice is garbled and he's blabbering nonsense but you can vaguely make out some phrases like- "Thank you" "lve you" "so good".

He relaxes, practically melting into the sheets. His eyes are closed but you know he's not sleeping because he's still murmuring something. You wiggle your way up his body, coming up to his face to kiss him and to hear what he's trying to say. It's as you lean in, chest touching his that he finally raises his voice a little

"need t' return the favour"

Your face twists in confusion and you go to speak but there's a loud snapping sound and then your vision does spins as he flips you onto your back. The sudden shift has left you disorientated and he uses the opportunity to snatch your wrists and bring them together.

He holds them with one hand while he uses his teeth to loosen the remnants of the ties on his other hand, he's efficient, barely loosening them before slipping his hand out. He lets the rope drop to the bed, switching hands so he can take care of the other one while you just blink up at him in shock.

When he finally finishes his task he leans down for a kiss, using his tongue to coax you into opening your mouth. You're so distracted by the deep, thorough kiss that you don't notice him pulling the exact same trick that you did. Well almost the same, difference being that your hands are only tied to other each other.

"Sorry lovely, I broke the headboard before, but I'll fix it later okay?"

Each word is punctuated with a kiss and he's rambling a lot but his tone is smooth and confident, nothing like his usual way of speaking.

Maybe you should've thought about the consequences beforehand...

Oh well.

#one piece x reader #one piece x gn reader #god usopp x reader #usopp x reader #op usopp x reader #usopp x gn reader #one piece fic #mdni #x reader #op fics #to be continued?#who knows

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umemiyan · 1 year ago

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𝑪𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑻𝒀.

pairing. — dental hygienist!eren jaeger x gn!reader

word count. — 1.3k

content. — suggestive content (no actual smut but still, mdni), mentions of candy/eating, dentist office setting, mentions of reader having dental anxiety and possible oral fixation, mentions of some questionable dental practice (but nothing bad happens to reader), no actual procedures are done but reader is told they have cavities, i think that's it sorry i'm trying to be thorough because until recently this shit seriously bothered me lmao so i don't want to upset anybody!

notes. — it is upon us!! i know it's like a couple of hours until halloween (at least where i'm at) but i wanted to post this while i was riding the high of finishing this up. this is my entry for @bastardblvd 's house of slimy horrors collab! my prompt was "candy" and i took this as an opportunity to thirst over dental hygienist!eren and lowkey further heal from my dentophobia lol. but i hope you enjoy! (divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

The distinct stench of the dentist’s office seems to fill your nostrils with increasing potency the longer you sit in the waiting room, anticipating the moment when your name will be called and you will be one step closer to being able to just leave. Your nerves are wracked despite the simple reason for your visit (a routine exam and cleaning) because this place never fails to nearly make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It seems fitting that Halloween is only a couple of days away, and you wish you could pop a piece of candy directly into your mouth to give yourself something pleasant to focus on.

Whether it be because of the rather off-putting and…eccentric cohort of licensed(?) dentists or the generally apathetic hygienist that is always hovering over you, your appointments consistently end on a note of complete and utter desperation to just get the hell out of there. You’re already bouncing your knee and anxiously counting down the seconds until it happens. The Halloween decorations, though relatively jovial in nature, don’t particularly make you feel any more at ease. You almost envy the fake skeleton in the corner for its perfect set of teeth.

You’re jostled out of your bored but nervous daze by a rather low utterance of your name coming from the doorway to the back. You stand from your seat and look over to see a familiar face: a young man with dark hair tied back to keep it out of his brilliant green eyes and expressionless—but handsome—features. You recognize him as the same hygienist to have taken care of you last time (was his name Adrian? Aaron?), and although his rather unenthusiastic presence leaves something to be desired, you can’t help but take the slightest bit of comfort in it. If nothing else, you at least remember him being thorough and competent enough for you to not be so on edge.

“Sorry for the wait,” he says as he walks you down the hall and to a room on the left where an empty chair is there waiting for you, and beside it a small table adorned with the various cleaning instruments all laid out in a neat line. You quickly take a seat and let him prepare the x-ray machine and place the heavy protective sheet over you shortly after.

“I’m gonna grab a few x-rays first, alright?” he explains, voice tinted with the slightest bit of friendliness. You get the sense that he’s not the most talkative of beings and that bedside manner isn’t exactly his favorite part of the job, but you at least appreciate the hint of effort you can detect. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s rather enjoyable to look at, either; not to mention the smooth sound of his voice and the way his eyes seem to linger on you for a few seconds too long.

“Bite down on this for me,” he instructs, placing an odd contraption in front of your mouth and waiting for you to open so that he can get on with the x-rays. He’s almost a little intimidating, looming over you and giving quiet orders in your direction, but you can’t deny that there’s something appealing about opening your mouth for him, even if it’s so he can place uncomfortable equipment in it. Maybe it’s the escapist part of your brain trying to forget about the stress of the appointment, but it can’t hurt to have a few indulgent thoughts during the process, can it? Whatever works to get you out of here with your sanity, right? You don’t reckon most people are lucky enough to have such an attractive hygienist, so you might as well appreciate it while you can.

You repeat this process a few more times—opening, closing, opening, closing—until he’s finally done and removing the lead sheet from your torso. Twiddling your thumbs restlessly, you watch as he examines the images on his screen, giving you a few moments to really look him over. You’re less concerned with the results of the x-rays than you are with observing his body—it looks rather toned even beneath the scrubs he’s wearing, and you wonder what sort of things he does in his free time. Going to the gym seems highly likely, but perhaps he’s outdoorsy? Is he a weightlifter, or does he go on hikes? Play sports? Is he good at other physical things—?

Your thoughts are cut short by his voice breaking the silence. “Looks like there’s some decay on a couple of your bottom molars,” he states, walking back over to you and placing a gloved thumb on your chin. “Open for me?”

You obey and lower your jaw, giving him space to lean in and take a peek at your back teeth. He’s much closer now, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to focus in with his eyes, and there’s a faint but pleasant masculine scent capturing your attention. Maybe it’s a spritz of cologne or his body wash taking over your senses, but whatever it is, it’s certainly more alluring than you’d like for it to be, especially with the way you can practically feel his breath fanning over your skin. It only lasts for a second before he’s pulling away, and you’re warmer than usual.

“Yeah,” he says conclusively, taking a seat on the stool next to you and bringing the mask up over his mouth and nose, which… he probably should’ve done before getting in your face a few moments ago, but you honestly aren’t complaining. He looks and smells clean, and you’re already mourning the loss of the sight of his lips. “I’ll let the doc take a look, but you’ll probably need a little work done.”

“Is it bad?” you ask a bit too quickly from the jitters, his words not exactly what you were hoping to hear today.

Eren shakes his head in response. “No, nothing serious. Just looks like maybe you’ve been laying it a little heavy on the sugar lately.”

You don’t like the sudden feeling of being accused or interrogated, but you suppose that’s simply part of his job. With an ashamed look on your face, you cast your glance to the side. “Yeah. Maybe.” You don’t like to admit it at the dentist’s office, but in recent months you’d developed somewhat of a bad habit of sucking on candies and lollipops on the regular. Your sugar consumption had only increased since the beginning of October, which certainly couldn’t be helping the problem. “I guess I’ve gotten a little too used to munching on all the extra candy lately.” You chuckle to try and lighten the mood. “Maybe I have an oral fixation or something.”

It’s hard to fully read his face beneath the mask, but you see him quirk a brow as he starts to lean your chair back for your cleaning. “Yeah?” he asks, somewhat intrigued.

You’re staring up at him now, watching as those beautiful eyes fixate on your body and then your lips. Sure, it’s his job to make keen observations about your mouth, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking on your behalf, but you can swear the way he stares at you is less than medical in nature. It’s not easy for you to keep from squirming and hide that very same look in your own eyes.

“Mhm,” you reply simply, gaze glued to his face.

Slowly, Eren pulls the mask back down below his chin and leans in closer than necessary, letting you see the way his lips part and how his eyes go half-lidded. He brings his thumb back up to your mouth but slips it inside this time, fascinated with the way you instantly close down around it. “I think we should find another way to keep you occupied,” he says, voice even lower than usual in a way that makes your heart gallop. “Don’t wanna let candy be what ruins your pretty mouth, do you?”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #my writing.#re: eren jaeger

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once-upon-an-animation · 1 year ago

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My massive TSATS Review

Hi everyone. In this post, I will sharing my thorough review of The Sun & The Stars by Rick Riordan and Mark Oshiro. I don’t normally do thorough book reviews, but since I’ve invested a lot of time, effort, and money into the hype for this book, I feel like a thorough book review is the best way to top off the journey. In this review, I’m going to be going over my honest feelings, thoughts, and opinions on the plot, the characters, and the writing quality. I took notes as I was reading, so certain things may be repeated/out of order/etc. In addition, I only took notes on the things that stood out to me. Therefore, if it’s not mentioned in this review, it means that it’s a detail that I felt neutral on/didn’t care about.

When I do reviews, I like to share details about me that may contribute to my perspective on the book, so that anyone reading this review is aware of any biases I may have. So here are some of the opinions I held prior to starting the book:

I am not a Nico stan. I don’t hate Nico, and I actually enjoy his character quite a bit, but I wouldn’t call myself a stan. I don’t worship or feel particularly attached to his character.

I am not a Solangelo shipper. I like Solangelo as a concept, but have been particularly unimpressed with its execution thus far, especially its introduction in Blood of Olympus (BoO).

As of ToA, I’m not a big fan of Will’s canon personality. I acknowledge and accept it as canon, and I don’t like it. Ever since Will and Nico’s first interactions in BoO, the way Will talks to Nico about his experiences has always rubbed me the wrong way.

Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I am currently unsure of my sexual/romantic orientations. Therefore, I don’t know how much this book means to me in terms of “representation”, and I’m not necessarily nuanced on all aspects of queer relationships. \

I did not like the preview. I read the preview of the first few chapters when it was released/leaked, which Mark shared that they wrote. And yeah…I was not a fan. The writing wasn’t bad, but it did feel a little jarring, which was to be expected. However, the characters, jokes, and overall flow felt off. And I’m sure everyone is tired of hearing this, but it absolutely gave off fanfiction vibes. I mean, TSATS is essentially canon fanfiction given that Mark is not the author of this franchise.

Lastly, the following arguments: “This book isn’t for you; it’s for kids!”, “It’s a kid’s book, it’s supposed to be cringey/corny/silly!”, “If you don’t have anything nice to say about the book, just shut up!”, and “If you think anything was wrong with this book, you didn’t read it right!” do not mean anything to me. Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly lost the capacity to evaluate the quality of children’s media. If adults are allowed to create children’s media, then adults should also be allowed to analyze them and critique them. In addition, if adults are allowed to review a book and say that it’s good, then adults should be allowed to review a book and say that it’s bad. Positive opinions are not inherently more valid or morally better than negative ones. Negative opinions have their place in art and literature consumption and people are allowed to dislike things and share why. If you cannot handle the possibility that people thought this book was bad, then book discussion is not an arena you should be in. Lastly, I do not hold children’s media or diverse media to lower standards. Children’s media can and should be of high quality. Diverse media can and should be of high quality.

Whew, okay! Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started! Warning: There will be spoilers! And this post will be very huge/long!!!

Plot

So the basic gist of the plot is that Nico has been hearing this voice calling out to him from Tartarus and he believes that it’s Bob, so he and Will journey down to Tartarus to go rescue him. They stop by the Jackson apartment to get some advice from Percabeth, they spend some time in the Underworld with the troglodytes, and then they face off with Nyx in Tartarus, who is holding Bob hostage. As far as the overall plot, I was very “meh” on the whole thing. I already disliked the premise because A) I think Rick’s version of Tartarus is kind of lame and he always insists on turning things into a joke down there, and B) It felt kind of repetitive with Percabeth’s journey. In addition, Will and Nico don’t actually reach Tartarus until more than halfway through the book, which is actually ridiculous. As a result, the first half of the book feels like such a massive drag and around Chapter 26, I kept wondering “Holy cow, when are they going to get to main destination!!?!??”

Before anyone comes for me, I completely understand that this book is more character-focused than plot-focused. In some ways, this is a welcome change, but in other ways, it really makes certain portions of the book feel like a slog to get through, especially if you’re not a diehard Nico/Will/Solangelo stan and you were hoping for an exciting story outside of the characters. Just because you’re spending more time with the characters doesn’t mean that your story should be lagging. You’re supposed to weave the character development into the main plot.

Anyway, here are my specific chapter notes, arranged in groups:

Chapters 1-5

- So it seems like not much was changed between the preview I read and the final version of the story. I’m kind of disappointed about that because as previously stated, I didn’t really like the preview.

- The Darth Vader joke: I thought the overall joke was cute, but I think it’s the way it was written that makes it land weirdly. I think it went on for just a tad too long.

- I’m not really buying the idea that there are zero kids staying at CHB for the year aside from Nico and Will. I understand the explanation that the book gave, but I find it very unlikely that every single kid at CHB has a happy home to return to, especially given Annabeth’s and Leo’s storylines as examples.

- On a positive note, I am happy to see Nico’s Italian heritage being a stronger part of his character.

- I really enjoyed Nico’s dream sequence in the beginning chapters. It felt nice to see dreams used not just as a plot device but in a way that says more about the emotions of the character. I hope you’re taking notes, Uncle Rick!

Chapters 6-10

- I have mixed feelings about the Percabeth cameo. On the one hand, I feel like it’s tradition to have them cameo in books now since they’re no longer main characters and people like having updates on them. I also think receiving their advice about Tartarus made sense. On the other hand, their advice was kind of shitty and not very useful. There were so many practical tips they could have given, such as certain enemies (ie. Nyx) or certain locations (ie. Hermes’ shrine) to look out for, and they just like…didn’t. It kind of kills me because Annabeth in particular is supposed to be the “smart” and “wise” character, but whenever she has an opportunity to actually do something wise and helpful, Rick dodges that shit like the plague.

- Speaking of WiseGirl, Annabeth’s “Why you, Nico?” line pisses me off and feels like a really stupid question that she should know better than to ask. Unless there are details that I’m missing, Annabeth knows that Percy’s relationship with Bob is quite strained due to the fact that Percy never visited him and Nico being the one to visit is the main reason that Bob was willing to help. Why would it surprise her that Bob would call out to Nico instead of them? Is Nico not the one who actually formed a friendship with the guy? In addition, why should it even matter that Bob didn’t call out to them? It’s not like she and Percy would have actually gone, given how traumatized they are by Tartarus and how they’re trying to live peaceful lives. So again, what is the motivation for asking a rude question like this? Did she actually want to lead the rescue mission? Would a call from Bob that she may have ended up ignoring make her feel validated> Is she offended or jealous or something? Sorry, but this question annoyed me so much and I don’t understand why Annabeth felt like she needed to ask it given everything she knows about Bob and Nico.

- I appreciate hearing Nico make some positive comments about Percy, especially since a lot of Nico/Solangelo stans insist that Percy is the Devil Incarnate. Hopefully, the fact that their favourite character doesn’t hate Percy as much as they do will inspire some of them to chill.

Chapters 11-15

- The nightmares/visions during the encounter with Epiales were pretty well done. In fact, I wish some of Annabeth and Percy’s encounters in Tartarus had gone a little more like Will’s visions in this scene; having nightmares about their insecurities regarding each other and questioning their relationship.

- The troglodyte scene was really dragging. A lot of the dialogue at the beginning of Chapter 14 felt stale and unnecessary.

Chapters 16-20

- The Nyx encounter in the Chapter 17 flashback was really good, and is everything Nyx should have been in HoH.

- Nico’s Tartarus recall was a little…underwhelming. Like the Nyx encounter was great, I just expected for more things to happen to him, like more monster encounters and stuff.

Chapters 21-25

- The ‘story time’ about Nico asking Will out on a date irks me for multiple reasons. 1) So ever since Rick decided to be more upfront about tackling social justice/deeper relationship topics in his books, his writing has developed this preachy quality to it where it feels like he’s just lecturing his readers through the voice of the characters and hand-holds them through his exploration of relationship/queer topics. I hate when Rick does this because the writing is way too on-the-nose and the characters sound awkward and not really like themselves; they sound like someone outside of the story is talking to you. This first date story time reeks of that on-the-nose quality and I don’t like it. 2) I have doubts about whether asking Will out in front of the entire camp (or being the one to ask for a first date in general) is actually in character for Nico. I think Nico could have opened up more as the relationship progressed, but making the first move in the beginning seems more like it should be a Will thing. 3) I am so sorry, but I do not buy for a second that no demigod at CHB felt comfortable in their queerness before Nico came along. It’s a Greek myth camp, for crying out loud. Not only are a lot of the Greek myths and mythological figures hella queer (including some of the Olympians!!!) but some of these kids are also products of queer relationships (ie. Kayla Knowles). Not to mention, one of the biggest narrative themes of CHB is that it’s a place where demigods who have never felt quite at home in the mortal world can establish a sense of belonging and not feel like they’re weird or unusual. Now, I understand that CHB has shown judgment towards certain things (like children of Hades), but that’s mostly because of Hades’ reputation and misunderstanding from myths. And like I said earlier, those same myths also include some queer relationships amongst some of its more beloved figures, so I don’t know that being non-cishet would have been viewed as weird or unusual at a place like CHB if they’re following the myths so closely. Sorry, this argument is kind of disorganized, but overall, CHB is a camp where kids have all kinds of experiences, powers, interests, family backgrounds, monster encounters and more. A girl who likes girls or a boy who likes boys is probably one of the least notable things that they’ve ever encountered, and I just have a hard time believing that the entire camp would be homophobic to the point where no one was comfortable with being out.

- So I actually really like the idea of Persephone and Will interacting and talking about how to manage being in the Underworld. However, something about the dialogue in this scene felt…stale. I understood the message that was being sent, but the actual conversation itself felt a little bland. I’m also disappointed to see that Rick/Mark fell into that same pattern that anyone who writes about Persephone does where they try to romanticize things between Persephone and Hades, and make Demeter seem like a bad figure. Like gee, your mother was protective of you and got mad when you were kidnapped and raped against your will; what a terrible mother, huh? And just once, I would like to read a story where Persephone rightfully bears a little resentment towards Hades for dragging her into a marriage that she didn’t actually want afaik.

Chapters 26-30

- Shout out to the narrative for gleefully reminding us that we are not yet in Tartarus as of Chapter 26, which is more than halfway through the book. Goodness gracious!

- Will & Nico’s “argument” is…okay. I was hoping that it would be moreso about Will’s comments seeing as that’s been the biggest issue so far.

- The infamous Lil’ Nas X reference…not only is it kind of random, but I’m surprised that it’s even in this book. Is the ‘Montero’ video actually appropriate for this book’s target audience? (And when I say ‘appropriate’, I’m not referring to the queer themes, I’m referring to the sexual stuff, like the lapdancing on Satan and whatnot.)

Chapters 31-35

- We are on Chapter 32 of a 51-chapter book with about 160 pages left, and the characters are just now arriving to their main destination. I’m so sorry, but that is such a silly writing decision that I can NOT take seriously.

- I enjoyed the Solangelo argument in chapter 34. Wish it had been a little longer.

Chapters 36-40

- Ah, the infamous aeternae. When I went to Rick/Mark’s TSATS tour, Mark revealed that their first draft of this scene had initially been super serious and scary, but they eventually felt like they had written something too scary. Mark revealed that Rick’s “strategy” for handling a super scary scene was to “cut the tension” with a joke. And so, Mark took the scary aeternae scene and turned it into a joke by making the aeternae a pair of himbos. Words cannot describe how much I hate this. Why can’t scary things be allowed to stay scary? It’s Tartarus, my guy. It’s supposed to be the most frightening place a demigod can be. Why should any aspect of it be turned into a joke? The unnecessary humor messes with the tone of the story and ruins all the suspense and tension that’s been built up. It also makes Tartarus seem less intimidating than it should be.

Chapters 41-45

- Words cannot describe how much I hate the implication that Nyx and Nico produced “children” together. Yes, I know they’re not real children, but I still hate the implication. It’s creepy.

- Now going into this book, I knew damn well that Will wasn’t going to get left behind. I also knew Bob wasn’t likely to get left behind because having them go on this rescue quest only for him to not make it out would be a little pointless. But the cocoa puff thing felt like such a cop-out. Like how convenient is it that Nyx brought these demons to life at the right time so that they were just oh-so conveniently available for Nico to sacrifice in the most in-your-face symbolism for letting go of his demons?

Chapters 46-51

- Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Nico tell us in Heroes of Olympus (HoO) that Bianca tried for rebirth? What is she doing in Elysium?

- The dream scene with Nico, Hades, Bianca, and Maria was very sweet. Probably my favourite scene in the entire book.

- “What an ingenious way of fulfilling the prophecy” Chiron says. Good job, Rick/Mark. Way to not-so-subtly pat yourselves on the back there!

- Shout out to Shel from finally graduating from being a plot device/narrative tool to being something of an actual character (this is moreso shade at Rick). The fact that she’s Native like Piper is really nice.

- Nico’s conversation with Piper is fine, but I don’t like the way it’s written. It’s another heaping pile of that on-the-nose, hand-holding, social-justice-lecture, talking-through-the-character style of writing that I don’t really like. Again, I have no issue with the topic at hand. But the characters do not sound like themselves. They sound like Rick talking to the audience. It’s weird, and I can almost guarantee that there was a better way to write this dialogue.

- Kind of sad that Bob isn’t sticking around, but it’s cool that he’s heading west. Potential reunion with Percy? Hope so. Maybe he and Percy can talk and Percy can apologize/smooth out their relationship.

Characters

So in this section, I’m going to discuss the characters individually, and also Solaneglo’s relationship. I will obviously have the most to say about Nico/Will/Solangelo. In addition, I will only point out the things that stood out to me, and I will try not to repeat myself. So if this character section seems kind of short, it’s probably because my thoughts have been spread out in other sections of this review.

Nico

Overall, I think I liked Nico’s character in this book. I liked that we got to learn a little more about his family relationships, his dreams, his solo time in Tartarus, and his perspective on certain characters and past events. However, his characterization did feel…off…from time to time. I think the reason why has less to do with TSATS in particular and more to do with how Rick has been handling Nico’s character ever since the end of BoO. I think Rick was so insistent on giving Nico a healing/happy-ending romance as quickly as possible that he not only rushed through Solangelo’s introduction and glossed over their initial development, but he also rushed through Nico’s healing process. I feel like there are large chunks of Nico’s emotional healing that was skipped during all the time jumps between BoO/ToA and within ToA itself, and anything that’s told to us in TSATS can only be told in retrospect. As a result, Nico’s joking/ flirting/ wisecrack nature in TSATS feels really sudden and maybe even OOC, because Rick never really showed us when and how Nico developed into this version of himself. To summarize, I believe this version of Nico could exist someday, but the transition needed to be longer, and more importantly, more of it needed to be shown to the reader.

In addition, while we did learn a lot more about Nico, I feel like there were still major things that were missing. His relationship with Hazel was surprisingly absent from his thoughts, and Reyna was barely mentioned, if at all. This represents a larger issue I have with Rick Riordan where, as soon as a character becomes a couple with someone, he tends to shaft their non-romantic relationships in favour of the romance. Like how Grover and Sally lost a lot of narrative importance in Percy’s life in favour of Annabeth during HoO; I really hated that.

Will

Like I mentioned at the beginning of this review, I came into TSATS not really liking Will and not really thinking that he’s the godsend boyfriend for Nico that the fandom likes to paint him as. I was hoping that TSATS would change my mind about Will, and while his character was improved for me in some ways, I think I walked away from this book still not really liking him that much.

So Will’s arc was mostly about accepting the darkness within Nico, the world, and within himself instead of viewing it as something inherently bad/evil or something he has to fix. As a part of this arc, he spends a lot of time complaining about the Underworld/Tartarus and associated concepts (ie. death, darkness, misery, ghosts, etc.) during the quest. Look. I understand the whole thing about Will being a child of Apollo and therefore not really vibing with the Underworld/Tartarus well. I understood and actually enjoyed his fear to some extent. However, I have some thoughts about the nature of these complaints. First of all, Will is not a newbie demigod. According to him and some of his background that’s established in this same book, Will has been at CHB for a while now, and he has endured 3 major conflicts in which numerous friends and siblings died. Will has had more than a lifetime of exposure to death and misery, so I don’t understand why this quest is being treated like his first rodeo with death and misery. I can’t really say it’s OOC for him given how limited his characterization has been before this, but still, it doesn’t really align with the established facts we know about Will. The themes of death and sadness should not be new concepts to him, yet this book is acting like he has never been exposed to this stuff before, despite the fact that the narrative literally acknowledges that he’s been through this stuff before. Again, I’m totally fine with him fearing monsters and total darkness and stuff, but loss and grief are things he should be more than familiar with. In addition, the narrative goes so far to even throw in that Will likes true crime podcasts. Now, listening to podcasts and being in the Underworld/Tartarus are two very different experiences, yes. But I just find it odd that Will can tolerate media about murder/kidnappings/etc. But the death and misery associated with the Underworld has him shaking for some reason.

I also find it odd that Will’s regard to Nico’s struggles with darkness, death, and misery is not always consistent. He can demonstrate the kind, empathetic, snd understanding nature of a healer when he needs to (ie. page 144 when Nico is about to start his Tartarus recall) but somehow he can’t see the insensitivity in the comments he keeps making about the Underworld? Again, it’s okay that Will doesn’t personally like the Underworld, but how is he not realizing how uncomfortable it must be for Nico to keep hearing all these complaints about concepts that he, as a son of Hades, is strongly associated with? On page 185, Will asks Nico yet another question about how he doesn’t find the ghosts disturbing. Nico explains that the Underworld is his second home and Will’s immediate response? “I could never live here.” Like look, this is a totally valid and understandable opinion for Will to have, but it’s also a dickish thing to respond to what Nico said, and the context in which it’s being said makes it frustrating. How and why is Will still acting surprised about what Nico is comfortable with? Nico is a son of Hades, for crying out loud! Him being comfortable with darkness, death, ghosts, and other associated things should NOT be a shock to anyone, let alone his own boyfriend of 6+ months. During the entire book, I couldn’t help but wonder why Will was even dating Nico in the first place if Nico’s domain made him this uncomfortable.

I’m glad Will and Nico were able to talk about this and smooth things over at the end, but by the time this arc was resolved, my annoyance with Will had already been solidified.

Another component of WIll’s arc is that he felt like he was a burden to Nico on the quest because of how much he was struggling with the lack of light and the fact that he kept getting injured/tired. This is fine and I actually like this. What I thought was a little silly was Will forgetting to bring a weapon or something to fight with. Yes, I understand that Will’s unpreparedness was a part of his arc, but while I fully understand his unpreparedness for the darkness/lack of light, him not bringing a weapon is very stupid, and the narrative acknowledging it doesn’t make it any less stupid. Again, Will is practically a veteran as far as demigod things go. How he could make such a silly mistake is beyond me. You’re going into the most dangerous territory in the Greek myth world for demigods, and you didn’t think you should have something to protect yourself with? Seriously? And the worst part is that Nico/the narrative literally mentions that Will has been in three major conflicts so far, but from the way Rick and Mark wrote him at certain points in this book, you’d never be able to tell.

Solangelo (as a pair)

I mentioned at the beginning that I am not a Solangelo shipper, so all the romance in this book didn’t have me leaping for joy as it may have for others. Overall, I still like the concept of their relationship and the themes associated with it, but I’m still not a fan of the way they're being executed. Will’s character arc made things a little harder for me, and the fanfiction vibes of the book were not my cup of tea. I have a smattering of different thoughts about Solangelo in this book, so I’m going to jump from idea to idea.

First, some of the romance/flirting/bantering did come off quite cheesy in a way that’s unusual in Rick’s better books (part of what gives TSATS fanfiction vibes).. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that the two boys like each other and have fun together, but it started to feel excessive at some point. Like Will recalling how Percabeth said being cheesy helps, and then Nico responding “Lay it on me, Will. I’m your grilled cheese” (page 373) made me put the book down so I could take a break. And before anyone come for my neck saying “They’re teenagers, it’s supposed to be cringey”...I have read PLENTY of books involving teenagers in which the romance/humor managed to accommodate the age of the characters AND still be mature enough so that it didn’t feel corny. There are fun yet tasteful ways to handle teenage romance/teenage humor in books and it’s up to the authors to find a good balance, so please miss me with this argument.

Lastly, this is going to sound rather bitchy, but I don’t want to hear the term “grumpy little ball of darkness” ever again. I know it was mostly a joke, but it was super corny the first time it was said, and it was corny every time after.

Next up, the circumstances surrounding their first kiss…I don’t like it. I’m obviously not mad at the idea of Will trying to be a supportive companion to Nico in that moment. I’m more so annoyed at what this kiss represents in the larger context of the Riordanverse. To some extent in PJO and to full extent since HoO, Rick Riordan has developed a deeply irritating habit of using romance as the solution to the characters’ emotional conflicts, grief, and traumas. There are too many characters in this franchise whose running emotional issues are magically solved by romance and I hate it. I think it’s harmful messaging to be sending to Rick’s young and impressionable audience that romance is the healing antidote to all of life’s problems. Feeling unwanted and like you’re not sure where you belong because everyone and everything keeps changing on you? Get a boyfriend! Feeling guilty about your past and like a 7th wheel amongst your friends? Get a girlfriend! Struggling with loss and grief and feeling like you’re always going to be alone? Get a boyfriend! Your ex just died in the midst of you trying to figure out your identity and you’re still in the grieving process? Get a girlfriend! It’s gotten sooo annoying at this point! Like no kids, getting into a romantic elationship will not solve all your problems. And viewing your significant other as the fixer-upper for your trauma is NOT actually a good thing, contrary to popular belief. Treating your romantic other as your only source of joy, hope, and happiness is a terrible approach to healing. Just once, I would like the kids in this franchise to work through their emotions in a way that doesn’t default to romance. Because should Will and Nico ever break up (not that they ever will, because according to Rick Riordan, most people find their soulmate as a teen), or something happens to Will, what will Nico do? Crumble? Fall apart? Waste away?

This is part of why I felt like it was really important for Nico to heal PRIOR to engaging in a romance because things like the circumstances of their first kiss suggest a sort of dependence that he’s developing on Will for dealing with his grief and inner demons, and I just don’t agree that this is a healthy coping mechanism. Nico doesn’t deserve to be alone or feel alone, but he does need to learn how to heal and cope through his traumas on his own because using Will as his source of healing is not a good thing. It’s okay for Will to support him or give him advice, but Will should NOT be Nico’s primary source of hope and happiness; Nico should be Nico’s primary source of hope and happiness so that if anything ever happens to Will, Nico doesn’t break into pieces because he’s developed the necessary strength to move on and find happiness within his own self, independent of a romantic other. Romance should complement the happiness you’ve grown from and for yourself, not be the source of it.

Next, Nico telling Will he loves him during the fall to Tartarus as a parallel to Annabeth whispering “I love you” to Percy is…not really something I like. I truly hate to compare a gay ship to a straight one, but let it be known that the critique that I’m about to give has nothing to do with Nico/Will being queer specifically, and more to do with the way they’ve been written. Anywho, with Percabeth, something about that “I love you” on their fall into Tartaurs felt more special given the long history of friendship that they had prior to their romantic one in the PJO series, and the fact that they had been separated so long just prior to the fall. The “I love you” between Nico and Will is sweet on a surface level, but the fact that it’s an obvious copy of Annabeth’s “I love you”, and the fact that we don’t have as much history with Solangelo as we did with Percabeth really takes away from the impact. I think this “I love you” would have held more power at the end of the book. For example, Will and Nico could finally have a discussion about all of Will’s struggles with darkness, and when Will finally accepts the darkness as a part of who Nico is (hopefully) and states that he loves Nico as he is, darkness included, we as readers can feel happy that Nico has found someone who accepts every part of him, even the parts that aren’t so pretty. Will then tells Nico that he loves him, a love that encompasses all of who Nico is, and Nico can say it back, accepting Will for all of who he is. All in all, I think the “i Love you” should have waited, and I don’t think it should have been a rehash of Percabeth’s moment; Solangelo should have gotten their own unique moment.

Next, Will’s guilt over Octavian’s death and him calling Nico a murderer made me go back and reread the scene in BoO. I can understand and appreciate his guilt from a healer’s perspective, but him thinking Nico was a murderer as a deep hidden grievance is kind of funky. Yes, Nico saying that they couldn’t stop Octavian probably came off really poorly in that moment. But also…Nico wasn’t saying that because he was bent on seeing the guy die. Octavian chose suicide and no matter what Will/Nico did, Octavian would have fought to get on that onager. Viewing Nico as a murderer for this, even by mistake, feels a little…extreme.

Lastly for this section, when Nico and Will finally had the talk about Will’s complaining, I liked the gist of the conversation, but I didn’t really like the conclusion that Will came to (or maybe it was the way it was written). Nico’s point was that death is amoral. Yes, it’s hard for the people who are still alive and left behind, but it isn’t an inherently evil process, and the place where the dead go isn’t inherently evil either. However, when Will reflects on this, he focuses on the entities that are alive/from the surface and are somehow thriving in the Underworld, which kind of misses the point. The takeaway shouldn’t be that there’s hope in the Underworld because of the living things that are present there. The takeaway should be that death, darkness, grief, all have their importance and place in our world, and that things that are associated with them aren’t inherently bad or evil. The Underworld doesn’t need to have life in it for it to be valuable.

Miscellaneous

Here, I will talk about a bunch of characters who made important cameos, but weren’t present enough to have their own section. If there’s a character missing here, it’s because I had no significant thoughts on them.

Percy:

- I’m glad to see multiple characters acknowledge that Percy needs time off.

- As sadistic as this might sound, I’m glad to hear that Percy is still having nightmares about Tartarus. I’ve always felt like Rick did a shoddy job of exploring the impact of Tartarus on Percy and Annabeth. This update on Percy doesn’t really make up for what could have been, but I’m glad to see the trauma being taken a little more seriously.

Annabeth:

- I already shared my grievances about Annabeth in the plot section.

The Troglodytes:

- I kind of like the Troglodytes, but their presence in this story felt a little…long, almost like they overstayed their welcome.

Dionysus:

- Mr. D feels off in this book, both at the beginning at the end. At first, I couldn’t really tell what it was, but by the end, I think I got it. So we all know that under Mr. D’s “I don’t give a shit about y’all” exterior, he actually kind of cares about the demigods. However, he’s always been subtle with it so that he never looks like he cares too much, and I don’t think this is something that he would suddenly change just for Nico, even as his pseudo-therapist. Unfortunately, the way he’s written in the book and his dialogue is a little over the top. His excitement towards Nico at the end especially feels OOC.

Nyx:

- I like Nyx a lot better in this book than in HoH. She feels less like a bumbling idiot, and more like a truly scary entity, although I was not glad to see that little tourist skit return. I wish we had spent more time with her.

Writing Style/Quality

So for the last section for this review, I’m going to speak specifically on the writing quality of this book; I’ll be critiquing certain writing decisions made by both Mark and Rick.This section is also a smattering of thoughts, so I’ll be jumping again. Here we go!

First off, the overall formatting of the story was kind of weird and disjointed. For example, choosing to stick with Nico’s POV for the entire beginning, but then suddenly jumping between Will and Nico’s POV after the encounter with Epiales was giving me a little bit of a mental whiplash. I wish they would have stuck to one POV per chapter just to keep things more organized. The interspersing of the story time with Gorgyra was kind of weird too, especially after I learned that it was taking place at a point midway through the overall story. It’s clear that this part of the story mostly exists to establish the canon version of how Will and Nico developed feelings for each other and hooked up, but I think there were better ways of just weaving this into the main story rather than constantly pausing the main story to do this weird kindergarten story time thing. I mean, the main plot was already taking its sweet ass time, and the Gorgyra scenes made it feel worse. I think the Gorgyra thing should have just taken place at its chronological spot. Lastly, I think Nico’s solo Tartarus flashback would have worked better as an epilogue, like ´oh, this is how Nico’s last trip to Tartarus went and now this book is about how different his 2nd trip will now that he’s not alone and Will here’ or something like that.

Next, for the writing specifically, I have mixed feelings about Mark’s contributions to the book. One thing I appreciate about Mark’s writing is the heavier emotional weight of things. I’ve always felt like Rick’s writing was too “Go! Go! Go!” all the time and that he never let the emotions of the plot he was writing sit and simmer within the characters, making the characters feel a little hollow at times. I like that Mark is dwelling a little longer on the emotional aspect of the story and isn’t rushing right through them. However, there are certain portions of the book where the language is just a little too flowery and philosophical rather than just like…getting to the main point. This probably contributed to how long it took for the characters to move on from certain scenes. Also, there were portions of the book where the sentences just felt kind of clumsy and awkward, like Mark knew that they needed to write something but wasn’t quite sure what to write.

Moving on, the pop culture references are definitely a little much. Now, to be fair, pop cultural references are not new to the Riordanverse, but I reread the PJO/HoO/ToA series a little while ago, and I recently read the Kane Chronicles for the first time, and I don’t think the pop culture references in those series occur nearly as frequently as they do in certain portions of this book (ToA might be an exception, but I feel like Apollo’s/Lester’s close relationship with the performing arts makes it more acceptable). In addition, pop culture jokes are not the only way to make good jokes. One thing I really liked about the Kane Chronicles is how Rick often used the mythology/local culture/circumstances of the specific scene as the foundation for jokes, because these feel a lot more organic and natural to the story, and are actually funny, and I wish TSATS had leaned into this more. It also didn’t help TSATS that some of the references felt forced amidst the conversation being had (eg. Nico’s ‘Single Ladies’ joke on page 12. Will makes a comment about not having any monsters to slay, and Nico responds with a joke about making skeletons do a choreographed dance to ‘Single Ladies’. A joke about making skeletons dance felt like a weird response to a comment specifically about slaying monsters, and it didn’t really fit in with the conversation). In general, randomly mentioning things that your audience might be familiar with isn't really humor; the references have to make sense within the context of what’s happening. Puns, play-on-words, sarcastic/smartass comments have been used before in the Riordanverse and worked fine when they were written properly. For example, Will’s “Noble McSacrifice”comment on page 45 actually made me chuckle, as grown as I am. So yeah, Rick has done better jokes in past books, and the try-hard pop references in this book is another thing that made it feel like fanfiction. I cringed very very deeply when I read the “#OnBrand” joke.

Lastly, I’ve already mentioned my thoughts on Rick’s on-the-nose writing. It’s like he doesn’t trust the audience to connect the dots anymore on certain themes and social justice issues, and that they need it spelled out for them in the most blatant and obvious way possible. Like yay for Rick for wanting to touch on important topics, but there’s a way to do this without sounding like you’re making a social justice lecture post on 2014 Tumblr. Find a way to weave these topics and lessons into the narrative so that you’re showing your readers the lesson rather than just telling them the lesson.

Also, if you’re going to use the characters as mouth pieces for these things, it would be nice if the characters could actually sound like themselves rather than just a vehicle for what Rick wants to tell the audience. Like, I really hate how the characters are literally just stating and explaining their character arcs to us, as if we didn’t just literally read the book and can see the arc for ourselves.

Overall Impression

I think this book is pretty mid. It’s not the awful trash that some people think it is, but it didn’t really meet the hype for me either, especially as a non-Solangelo shipper. Certain aspects of it were nice, but many aspects of it annoyed me, and my opinions on Will/Solangelo haven’t really changed. I give it 3 out 5 stars.

#tsats spoilers #tsats crit #the sun and the star #Nico di Angelo #Will solace #solangelo #anti solangelo #rick riordan #mark oshiro #tsats #tsats review

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ghost-of-a-system · 11 months ago

Note

Hey, could I ask for some pointers on how to identify if one is a system? I know it's not a one size fits all thing, but I'm just trying to figure things out, no pressure tho ^^ <33

every process is different, but this is how we went about it! we are personally self-diagnosed but we have had conversations with a few therapists regarding our suspicions (but they weren't the best therapists, and we weren't able to continue working with them) this post is from our lens/a traumagenic lens

the main thing people always say is research, research, and, more research, but it honestly is the best first step. we personally used websites like did-research.org, although it wasn't as useful for us, as someone with OSDD1b :') but that site did introduce us to the various different types of "dissociative identity" disorders, such as DID, OSDD1a and OSDD1b (particularly this page https://did-research.org/comorbid/dd/osdd_udd/did_osdd which was helpful in comparing each of them in an understandable way. this was the first time we read something and really had it "click" with our experience.)

i feel like sites like that are a good place to start/try to figure out what "type" resonates with you the most, and i feel that sometimes makes it easier to research from there! but it can always be helpful to do further research into the other types just to get different ways of explaining it/perspectives from those that have it.

one of, if not the most helpful thing, for us, was talking to other systems. we specifically spoke one-on-one with diagnosed & medically recognized systems who also had our suspected type (OSDD1b) (not to discredit self-diagnosed systems, coming from one, but we wanted to get a "for sure" concrete opinion). our conversations usually involved lots of question-asking and trying to lay out what we were experiencing, our concerns, etc. and comparing some of our basic experiences to their's.

it is also very very important to research disorders that could be misunderstood as DID/OSDD or have overlapping symptoms. i feel this is an extremely vital step in any self-diagnosis. things like personality disorders such as BPD, autism, even schizophrenia, etc. it's been a while since we have personally researched this so i can't name many off of the top of my head lol. but i feel this is very important. of course, it is always possible that there is a presence of several of these alongside DID/OSDD. personally we are diagnosed with autism and have an extreme suspicion that we have BPD as well.

all of these are not something that can be easily done overnight, or even in a few days, or even weeks, in our experience. it's very thorough and i believe it helps to leave a lot of time for you to just first research, have the knowledge of what to look out for in your head, and start making observations or notes about what you experience over time. that may help things become more clear.

as always having the support and assistance of a therapist/someone qualified in these disorders is the best option, but we know that it isn't that easy for everyone. not everyone is able to have access to these things for a variety of reasons, such as money or location, for starters.

#ghost of a sys asks

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graceful-starker · 1 year ago

Text

I Don’t Mind Bucky’s Sloppy Seconds

Summary: This is my first fill for Starkerfestivals summer bingo! Sloppy seconds, featuring Bucky.

Warnings: daddy kink, come eating, oral, threesomes

Notes: I hope you enjoy!

~~~

Peter sighs dramatically, making Bucky smile even though he doesn’t look up from his book. “Long day, sweetheart?”

Peter huffs in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest in a particularly bratty manner. “Very long day. Difficult day. I just want to turn my brain off.”

Bucky smirks softly, placing his bookmark and closing the book carefully. “What time does Tony get home?”

Peter pouts even further, lower lip jutting out as he thinks about how long Tony is going to continue to neglect him for stupid things like his job. “Too long! At least an hour, maybe even longer.”

Bucky rolls his eyes fondly. “Poor baby, all empty and cock hungry with no daddy to make it better. How sad.”

Peter’s cheeks heat to a pretty shade of pink, but his eyes darken with want. “Well you have a cock, don’t you?” It comes off as more bratty and demanding than Bucky is used to dealing with when it comes to Peter. Usually he’s a sweet little thing, all whines and pleas for his lovers. He’s definitely in a mood.

Bucky chuckles darkly, spreading his legs suggestively. He loves the way Peter’s gaze immediately falls to his crotch, the way his arms loosen around his chest as if he’s forgotten about pouting. “Look at you, my little cock slut. Just the mere suggestion of getting some dick has you droolin’ already.”

Peter gasps softly, almost inaudibly. Tony’s ears would have missed it. His dark eyes flit back up to Bucky’s face before honing back onto their target. “You love it,” Peter says, voice still aiming for bratty even though Peter misses it, barely. He’s just a tad too breathless for a truly bratty tone.

Bucky hums softly, arms spread wide across the back of the couch. “What do you want, Peter? You wanna stuff your pretty mouth full of my cock, turn your brain off that way?” Peter takes a small step forward, as if being pulled along by a string. “Or do you wanna give Daddy a show for when he finally gets home? Or did you have something else in mind?”

Peter licks his lips, taking another small step towards Bucky. “Yeah,” he says softly, before shaking his head and clearing his throat. “I mean…Yes, I want to suck your cock. And I wanna give Daddy a show too.”

Bucky hums approvingly. “I don’t think we’ll have time for both, sweetheart. Why don’t you go shower, get yourself very clean for me, and we’ll see how much time we have after? I want you to be thorough.”

Peter is gone before Bucky can even finish his sentence, and it makes the older man chuckle. He hears banging in the bathroom before the shower spray turns on, and Bucky sighs happily to himself. It’s moments like these that make Bucky realize how lucky he is.

Bucky makes quick work of setting up the living room, getting it ready for their scene today. He has a great number of toys and tools at the ready, which he sets up within reach beside the armchair facing the door. Then he works on stripping himself down. He puts his boots back on, knowing how much they rile Tony up, and sits himself comfortably on the chair.

He spreads his legs in a comfortable position, before pouring a generous amount of lube over his palm. He starts to stroke himself to hardness at thoughts of what’s to come; Peter on his knees, cheeks puffed with how full they are. Peter on his lap, riding Bucky’s cock with his head thrown back. Tony walking in on that, eyes dark and full of lust, his deep voice almost a growl as he says couldn’t wait for me this evening, hm? Tony pushing into Peter’s body right beside Bucky-

Peter rushes into the living room, hair still damp and messy from the rough towel dry, skin still a warm pink from the hot spray. “Was that fast enough?” he asks breathlessly. He pauses after his question, making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat at the sight that is Bucky right now.

Bucky chuckles again, wiping his hand on the towel next to his chair. He checks the time and hums as he pretends to think about it. “You were pretty fast there sweetheart, are you sure you’re as clean as I want you to be?”

Peter whines softly-there he is-and nods quickly. “I did! Please Bucky, please let me suck your cock. Just a little bit, I’ll be so good, I promise!”

Bucky practically purrs, spreading his legs even further apart in invitation. Peter wastes no time, falling to his knees and perfectly taking up the space between Bucky’s thighs. As if he was made to be there. “Only a little bit, darlin’, I have a plan for how I want Daddy to find us.”

Peter might not have heard Bucky, with how focused he is on Bucky’s thick cock, shining and dripping with lube. “Please,” he whines, both hands obediently resting on Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky hums in content, running a hand through Peter’s messy hair. “Go ahead darlin’, I know how desperate you are for it.”

Peter licks his lips once before grabbing onto Bucky’s cock, stroking it once from base to tip and back down again. Then he aims it towards his face and licks a stripe up the underside. He pulls away with a gasp, looking up at Bucky happily. “Strawberry.”

Bucky grins, gently tugging Peter’s curls to get the point across. “You’re favorite.” And Tony’s, but that’s irrelevant tonight. Bucky has other plans.

Peter takes the hint and suckles on the head, before finally giving in to what he really wants and bobbing his head down Bucky’s shaft. He moves his lips in a tight ring up and down the shaft, until Bucky’s tip is down the back of his throat and his balls are brushing Peter’s lips.

Bucky groans appreciatively, his free hand coming up to support his chin as he watches the show. “That’s it baby, choke on it. So good for me.”

Peter pulls back and gasps in air through his nose, licking along the way to taste the flavored lube. Then he goes back down, choking on Bucky’s tip before going even further.

It feels nice, it really does; but Peter is savoring himself too much. He’s going too slow, enjoying the taste of the lube, the weight of Bucky’s cock on his tongue. It simply won’t do.

He fists Peter’s hair tighter and pulls Peter off, earning a whine. “Wait, please, I’ll be good!” Peter begs, lips shiny and red already.

Bucky smirks, and with his head resting on his fist he looks almost bored. He knows just how much that makes Peter squirm, how desperate it makes the little slut to prove himself. “We’re running out of time before daddy gets home, angel. Are you sure you can be good?”

Peter whimpers, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. “Yes! Yes sir, I’ll be so good, please let me suck you again, please!”

Bucky sighs in faux submission, guiding Peter back to his cock by the hair. “Be better, Peter, or I’ll have to help you.”

Peter whines at how close he is to Bucky’s cock, he can feel the heat radiating from the tip; yet Bucky is being so mean, keeping him just far enough away that even when he sticks his tongue out for a taste, he can’t reach. “Yes sir, I’ll be good, just-please!”

“Good boy,” Bucky praises, loosening his grip but not letting go. Peter wastes zero time, desperate to prove himself. He licks the tip only once before he grips the base and quickly bobs his way all the way down. He chokes loudly on it before bobbing back up and doing it again, eyes closing in pure bliss.

Peter continues to move up and down on Bucky’s cock, roughly pulling choking noises from himself. Drool is pouring from the corners of his mouth and making a mess on the chair below Bucky.

“You’re only ever happy when you have a cock down your throat or up your ass, aren’t you?” Bucky asks, voice deep and gravelly with lust.

Peter looks up through his lashes and whines, forcing himself to swallow as much as he can, nose buried in Bucky’s pubic hair and his chin resting against Bucky’s balls.

Bucky waits until Peter is about to pull away before pushing against Peter’s head, keeping him still and choking on Bucky’s cock. The younger man chokes in surprise, fingers digging into Bucky’s thighs. “Good boy, relax. Hold it. Just a little longer angel, be a good boy for me. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To choke on my cock, drown on it?”

Peter’s face goes a beautiful shade of red at the lack of oxygen, and his eyes flutter so prettily. But he’s such a good boy; he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t panic. He just trusts Bucky, trusts him to know Peter’s limits and how long he can go without breathing.

That, or he truly is just that desperate for cock.

Bucky finally pulls Peter forcibly off his cock, watching as the younger man gasps for air. One hand flies up to his throat, cupping it as his coughing fit starts. “Such a good boy for me,” Bucky praises, and watches as the words soothe Peter over as if physically soothing the pain away. “Come up here, sit on my lap.”

Peter hastens to obey, almost tripping over himself in his hurry. He settles with his naked ass resting on Bucky’s lower thighs, and his arms draped over Bucky’s shoulders. His lips are still wet and red, parted as he pants for breath. His eyes are wet and his pupils are blown with lust and want. His cheeks are still pink, although fading from the bright red from earlier. “Bucky,” he rasps, voice absolutely wrecked.

Bucky coos at him, using both hands to grab his ass and squeeze. “Are you ready, angel? It’s time to give Daddy a good show.”

Peter nods quickly, eyes wide as he awaits further instruction.

Bucky simply maneuvers him so Peter’s knees hit the back of the chair behind Bucky. His neglected cock rubs against Bucky’s own wet cock. Bucky gently guides Peter’s face so he can hide it in Bucky’s neck, and the younger man wastes no time in licking and sucking at the skin there.

“I haven’t even touched your cute little hole yet, and already you’re this desperate?” Bucky isn’t irritated though, it makes his cock twitch, actually.

Peter whimpers softly, gently biting at Bucky’s shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” he whispers, his breath tickling Bucky’s neck.

Bucky shivers slightly, before reaching and grabbing for the strawberry flavored lube again. He spreads a liberal amount on his hand, before gently rubbing at Peter’s loosened hole. Peter’s breath hitches, and he grinds his hips down into the touch.

Bucky laughs fondly, arm reaching across the younger man’s back to hold Peter still. He uses his dominant hand to slowly tease Peter’s hole, massaging two fingers over it.

Peter whines again, biting in retaliation. “Bucky! Daddy will be home soon,” he reminds the older man.

Bucky coos softly. “You’re right, darlin’.” He pushes both fingers in at once, sadistically enjoying the way Peter cries out in surprise. The younger man desperately tries to move his hips, either to rub his cock against Bucky’s or to push more of Bucky’s fingers into his greedy little hole. “Good boy, take it. Take it for me, be a good boy.”

Peter whimpers and cries into Bucky’s shoulder, wiggling his entire body as much as Bucky’s tight grip on his torso allows. “Please!”

“Do you even know what you’re begging for, darlin’?” Bucky teases, pushing both fingers deeper and spreading them apart.

Peter bites Bucky again, just to be a brat, chest heaving against Bucky’s. “More. More; I want more, please.”

Bucky smirks and adds a third finger, pistoning his arm so he can carefully drill into Peter’s ass. Carefully, because he needs to avoid Peter’s prostate for now. Peter isn’t allowed to cum without Tony’s permission (if he’s intended to be in the scene) and they’ll both be in trouble.

“Please!” Peter cries, licking at the spot just behind Bucky’s ear to butter him up. “Please, give me your cock Bucky. I need it, I need your cock in my ass, please!”

Bucky shivers, rewarding Peter with a passing brush to his prostate, before going back to spreading Peter open. “Slut,” he coos, kissing Peter’s drying hair.

Bucky hears the lock in the front door and grins, knowing Peter is too lost to have heard it himself. He moves the arm restraining Peter to rest on the younger man’s hip, and shoves his fingers to rub relentlessly into his prostate.

Peter cries out in intense pleasure, head thrown back as he wiggles his hips down on Bucky’s fingers. “Bucky!” he yells.

Tony closes the door quietly behind him, eyes dark and wide with surprised lust. He toes his shoes off as he greedily takes in the picture. Bucky pretends to not notice him, allowing his lover to look his fill. He takes his jacket off and hangs it on the coat rack by the door, and manages to roll his sleeves up before he loses all his patience. “My my, what a wonderful welcome home present. Hello, my loves.”

Bucky grins at Tony over Peter's shoulder, kissing Peter's hair softly. "Hello yourself, doll." He pulls his fingers out of Peter's dripping hole, gripping onto his chin tightly instead to make the boy look at him.

Peter whimpers loudly, looking into Bucky's eyes with blown pupils. "Daddy," Peter whines, trying and failing to get Tony in his sights. “Daddy, Bucky is being mean to me.”

Bucky coos, using both hands to grab Peter's cheeks and pull them apart. He gives Tony a gorgeous look at Peter's hole, but keeps his own eyes on Peter. It’s as effective for keeping the boy’s eye contact as the grip on his chin was. "What it is, baby doll? You don't like being on display like this? Or don't you want Tony's cock in your slutty little hole? How am I being mean?"

Tony walks over as if in a trance, licking his lips. "Baby," he groans, loosening his tie. "Bucky, I-"

Bucky grins, shooting Tony a knowing look before returning his eyes to Peter. He slowly grinds his hips upwards, dragging his cock against Peter's. "Don't get shy on us now darlin'. You were begging me for my cock just a couple minutes ago."

"Daddy," Peter whines, wanting to break eye contact but being unable to under Bucky's intense stare. "Please Daddy, want your cock in me. Need it, need you!"

Tony starts to unbutton his shirt, tie hanging loosely from his neck, ignored. "Such a cock hungry little slut we have," he coos softly. He seems to get too impatient to undress again, one hand working on his belt as the other rests gently on Peter’s lower back.

Bucky grins and gives Peter some mercy, reaching up to connect their lips. Peter wines into it, grinding his cock into Bucky's as much as he can with Bucky's strong grip on his hips. Bucky groans into the kiss, distracting them both with how dirty and messy it is.

Peter gasps and whines into the kiss, panting heavily. "D-daddy!"

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, staring up at Peter with lust filled eyes. "Is Daddy's cock splitting you open, doll?"

Peter makes some sort of keening noise, mouth hanging open and unable to form words. "Ngyuh."

Bucky chuckles softly, licking his lips. "Such a good boy, taking Daddy's cock like the little whore you are." He grinds his cock up into Peter’s once, just to take the edge off a bit.

Peter shakes his head, whimpering and grinding as much as he can against Bucky's grip. "Nuh, Bu-Da...Bucky, Daddy is-"

"Hmmm?" Bucky asks, looking over Peter's shoulder. His eyes widen at the sight, jaw dropping slightly. "Oh!"

Tony is not, in fact, slowly working his cock into Peter’s wet and waiting asshole. In fact, his cock isn’t even out of his pants yet, a testament to just how impatient the older man is.

Instead, he’s something out of Bucky’s wet dreams. His clean, white shirt is completely unbuttoned and open, but stays over his shoulders. His tie is loosened down to his collarbones, but hangs from his neck indecently. He’s fallen to his knees, one hand palming himself through his dress pants and the other resting just above Peter’s ass.

Oh, and his face is buried between the cheeks Bucky is holding open, jaw visibly working from where Bucky can see.

“Fuck, Tones,” Bucky groans, moving his hands up Peter’s sides in a loving caress.

Tony immediately moves both hands to grab onto Peter’s ass himself, squeezing and kneading as he wishes.

Peter whimpers loudly, drawing Bucky’s eyes back up to him. “Daddy-oh, Daddy, feels-I-it-I feel-” he cuts himself off with another moan, pushing his chest into Bucky’s and pushing his ass out for Tony.

Tony groans appreciatively, smacking Peter’s asscheek once before squeezing it again. He pulls away with a smack of his lips, looking up at Bucky with dark eyes. “Strawberry,” is all he says, before licking a long stripe from Peter’s balls up his crack.

Bucky barks an amused laugh, leaning forward to kiss at Peter’s neck softly. “You like Daddy’s tongue in your ass, baby doll? Do you like being held still like this while Daddy does what he wants?”

Peter gasps out a hiss of a yes, the tip of his cock rubbing against Bucky’s shaft due to the angle he’s put himself in. “Bucky,” he whines, eyes half lidded and mouth hanging open obscenely.

Tony grunts, pulling back and smacking Peter’s ass again. He reaches down and finally pulls himself out of his pants, stroking himself once. “Bucky, lift his hips up a bit more for me.”

Bucky obeys immediately, using one hand to grip Peter’s hip and lift him up enough that he can’t grind his leaking cock against Bucky’s. It earns a whine from Peter, but an approving smile from Tony. “What are you planning in that big brain of yours, doll?”

Tony grins devilishly, before burying his face back into Peter’s ass. His right hand continues to stroke himself, but his left hand gently caresses Bucky’s boot.

Peter cries out, and Bucky uses his free hand to tangle in Peter’s hair. “Such a pretty little whore,” Bucky drawls, leaning up to lick into Peter’s open mouth.

He’s so distracted by the filthy kiss that he doesn’t notice Tony’s hand moving from his boot. He does notice when Tony’s hand grabs onto his cock. “Ah, fuck, baby-” Bucky groans, tightening his hands in Peter’s hair and on his hip.

Tony moans, making Peter cry out in pleasure, slowly jerking Bucky off towards himself.

Bucky pants softly, leaning down to mark up Peter’s neck and shoulders. “Fuck, baby, you’re teasing us.”

Tony hums in acknowledgement, making Peter grind his hips back into his face almost unconsciously. He pulls back again, moving both hands to grab onto Peter’s cheeks again. “Up, Bucky,” he mumbles, pushing.

Bucky gets the hint, although he’s surprised Tony is this far gone with his composure already. Tony is usually much more in control of the scene, one of many words. He must have been extremely surprised to find his lovers like this.

Bucky moves Peter so his cock rests against Bucky’s abs, his own cock slapping up against Peter’s hole.

Peter cries out at the sensation, looking at Bucky with wide and wet eyes. “Bucky, Daddy, please, I want-I want more, please!”

Bucky coos and squeezes Peter’s thighs, rolling his hips up so his cock slides between Peter’s cheeks. “Poor baby.”

Tony licks a line up the underside of Bucky’s cock, and his tongue makes Bucky shiver. Then, he moves his tongue so he can also lick along Peter’s hole around it, but doesn’t move Bucky’s cock away. He repeats the motion, earning matching groans from both his lovers. “Fucking delicious,” Tony groans, moving his right hand down to palm himself.

Peter whimpers and looks over his shoulder. “Daddy, please, please! I want-I want a cock in me, please Daddy!”

Bucky groans softly at the words, grinding up into Peter’s crack. “Yeah Tones, you’re teasing us.” He moves his hands over Peter’s back, sneaking one finger inside Peter’s hole beside Tony’s tongue.

Tony hums again in answer, not bothering with any words. He moves Bucky’s dick with his free hand, bobbing up and down on it a few times.

Bucky bites his lip to stifle any noises, pushing three fingers into Peter and rubbing against his prostate; achieving his goal of stopping Peter’s whining. “Fuck, Tony, you’re perfect.”

Peter moans softly, licking at Bucky’s bite marks in apology now that he’s happy and has something up his hole. He grinds down into Bucky, knocking into Tony’s face every so often. “Daddy, please-” he gasps as Bucky nails his prostate again.

Tony moans and pulls back off of Bucky, licking along Peter’s rim around Bucky’s fingers. “I think he’s ready, Buck, what do you think?”

Bucky nods, pulling his fingers out and handing Tony the lube. “Are you ready for Daddy’s cock, doll?” he whispers, turning his head so his lips brush against Peter’s ear.

Peter whines and nods, grinding against Bucky’s abs. “I want Daddy’s cock in me, I've been waiting for so long!”

Tony licks at Bucky’s head, and then at Peter’s hole, before pulling away from his lovers all together to pour lube into his hand. Bucky had expected for Tony to stand up and line himself with Peter’s waiting hole; but instead, he feels Tony stroking Bukcy’s own cock, slathering lube all over his cock.

“Tones,” Bucky gasps, before Tony carefully guides Bucky’s tip to Peter’s tight ring of muscle.

Peter gasps loudly, clenching desperately as he tries to pull Bucky in. “Please Daddy, I want it, I want Bucky’s cock in me, please!”

Tony coos, gently biting at Bucky’s thigh. It earns the desired effect of Bucky grunting and jerking his hips. His tip presses more firmly against Peter’s hole, almost breaching. “I thought you wanted Daddy’s cock, angel?” Tony teases, squeezing Bucky’s cock with one hand and slapping Peter’s ass with the other.

Peter whimpers softly, peeking out from Bucky’s neck over his shoulder and down at Tony. “I do!” he insists, biting his lip and wiggling his hips down to try and take Bucky. “I want both.”

“Greedy,” Bucky whispers, but he soothes the words by kissing Peter’s temple. “Be a good boy, and maybe Daddy will give you what you want.”

Peter whines and pouts, hiding his face back into Bucky’s neck and licking the skin he finds there. “Please,” he begs, voice muffled. “Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I promise! I’ll do anything, I want to be so good for you and Bucky, please, I-oh!”

Peter’s rambling is abruptly cut off by a gasp, as Tony moves his hand from Peter’s ass to his hip and guides it dowards. Bucky groans appreciatively, throwing his own head back so it rests on the back of the chair.

Tony moves Peter’s hips down, slowly moving his own hand down Bucky’s cock until it’s under his balls, allowing Peter to take the entire shaft inside. “Beautiful,” Tony murmurs, loud enough for both of them to hear.

Peter whimpers and starts to shake slightly, so Bucky uses both of his hands to gently soothe Peter by petting his back. Peter gently bites at Bucky’s shoulder, panting heavily. “Fuck, Bucky, ‘s so big,” he slurs.

Bucky chuckles softly, rolling his head so he can look back down at Tony. “Watcha thinkin’, darlin’?” he asks, voice thick and slightly strained with the effort to keep still and not fuck up into Peter’s tight body.

Tony licks his lips, before leaning in and licking at the space where Bucky’s cock disappears into Peter’s ass. It pulls the most delicious noises from both of his lovers, noises Tony very much appreciates. “Do you think you have it in you to ride Bucky, sweetheart, or do you need help?”

Peter releases a shaky breath against Bucky’s neck, making Bucky shiver in pleasure. He pulls away from Bucky’s chest, resting his hands there instead so he can have leverage. “I can do it, Daddy, I wanna be good.”

Tony hums and pulls both his hands away, pulling himself out of his pants finally. “Good boy, you’re our very good boy.”

Peter blushes and starts to move up and down in Bucky’s lap, drawing gasps and moans from himself. Unlike how Bucky or Tony would guide the boy, he’s aiming for his prostate with every thrust, making his cock jump and drool already. “Bucky!”

“Careful, doll,” Bucky warns, his own voice affected by the sensations. “I don’t think Daddy wants you coming so soon.”

Tony grunts in the affirmative, moving one hand back up to slap Peter’s ass harshly. “Slow down angel, Daddy has plans for tonight. Don’t get too excited yet.”

Peter whines softly, pouting up at Bucky with wet eyes. “Maybe I do need help…”

Bucky grins, showing just a bit too much teeth, making Peter shiver and clench around Bucky. “Good boy, askin’ for help when you need it,” Bucky purrs. He notices Tony pull away, starting to work his way out of his shoes and pants.

Peter whines at Bucky’s attention being divided. “Bucky!”

The older man laughs softly and looks back to Peter, skating his hands down Peter’s back before cupping his asscheeks. He holds on with a tight squeeze, and starts to slowly move Peter up and down on his shaft, teasing them both. “God, angel, you’re so fucking tight.”

Peter whines and wiggles in Bucky’s grip, but eventually resigns himself to the slow pace. “Please Bucky, I need it, need you, need-” he whines and scrapes his nails down Bucky’s chest.

Bucky hisses at the slight pain, driving his hips up harshly in punishment. Peter whines and cries out, mouth hanging open. “More!”

Tony falls back down to his knees, putting a pillow from the couch under his knees first. He leans in and sucks Bucky’s balls into his mouth, making Bucky gasp and jerk his hips up again. “Oh, fuck, Tones,” he groans.

Tony lets go with a pop, roving his tongue up Bucky’s shaft so he can lick at Peter’s rim when Bucky pulls him down. His hand is slowly jerking himself off, his cock glistening with the flavored lube. His other hand rests on Bucky’s boot, almost as if to ground himself.

Peter moans every time Tony’s tongue laps over his hole, squeezing subconsciously and drawing pleased grunts from Bucky. They continue in this pattern until Tony gets bored and moves one hand to push Peter up and off of Bucky, making Bucky’s cock slap wetly into Peter’s crack.

Peter whines and looks over his shoulder, pouting at Tony. “Daddy!” He tries to push back down, but he doesn’t fight as hard with Tony as he does with Bucky.

Tony hums and brings his other hand up to grab Bucky’s cock, before swallowing him down his throat without any warning.

Bucky gasps and moans loudly, fighting to keep his hips still. “Oh, fuck, Tony, that’s so-”

Peter gasps and his eyes droop, forgetting how he wants to complain and simply enjoying the show underneath him. “Nasty, Daddy,” he whispers, cock twitching against Bucky’s abs.

Tony groans around Bucky before pulling back off with a pop, lapping at Peter’s hole a few times before guiding him back down to sit on Bucky’s cock. “Delicious,” he argues, eyes dark. “Ride him good now baby, make Bucky cum for me.”

Bucky’s cock twitches inside of Peter, who wastes no time in giving Bucky the ride of his life. His hips snap up and down relentlessly, head thrown back in pure pleasure, fingers digging into Bucky’s pecs.

Bucky groans happily, squeezing and kneading at Peter’s ass. He can’t decide if he wants to watch the beautiful scene of Peter bouncing on his cock like a good little whore, or if he wants to watch Tony on his knees, stripping his own cock with his eyes locked on Peter’s ass, chin shining with drool. Instead of deciding, his eyes flick lazily between them, and he bites his lip as pleasure floods through him.

Tony leans down and licks at Bucky’s balls again, and that’s all it takes to finally push Bucky over the edge. He groans loudly, leaning his head forward to fall on Peter’s shoulder, both hands gripping onto Peter’s hips with a bruising force as he drives up into the younger man.

He relaxes his grip when he finishes, cock twitching as it starts to soften inside Peter. Peter makes a pleased noise, cheeks pink and eyes lidded when Bucky leans back to look at him.

“Thank you for filling me up, Bucky,” Peter purrs, his own cock twitching and leaking onto Bucky’s abs.

Bucky chuckles breathlessly, pulling Peter up a bit so his cock will slide out. “Of course, darlin’,” he mumbles.

Tony groans from his spot on the floor, standing up slowly. “So fucking hot,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss Peter’s hair before squishing the younger man between them so he can make out with Bucky.

While Bucky wouldn’t have minded sitting there forever, Peter whines and starts to wiggle impatiently. “Daddy!”

Tony chuckles and pulls away, running his hands down Peter’s back before grabbing at his leaking ass. “You aren’t satisfied with just Bucky, angel? You’re just too much of a cock hungry whore for one dicking down to be enough?”

Peter blushes, but he’s nodding with no hesitation. “Please Daddy, I need you too! Need your dick inside me, please Daddy.”

Bucky grins and runs his hands over Peter’s chest and torso. “Slut,” he whispers.

Tony sighs, pulling Peter’s left cheek back with one hand and stroking himself with the other. “You’re lucky I don’t mind Bucky’s sloppy seconds, aren’t you, kid?”

Peter gasps loudly and his cheeks get impossibly darker. “Daddy,” he whines, pushing his hips back.

Tony chuckles again, before he presses into Peter without hesitation, knowing their boy is nice and loose by now. He groans at the feeling of Peter’s walls, already dripping with their lover’s come, already fucked loose and sloppy.

Peter cries out in pleasure, eyes slipping closed as he tries to push his hips back to meet Tony’s. “Daddy!”

“So messy,” Tony growls, starting a fast pace and fucking as hard as he can into the willing man beneath. He knows Peter can take it. “Fucking slut, already dripping one man’s come and begging for more, begging for more dick and more come up your little ass.”

Bucky bites his lip as his cock twitches; damn Tony and his dirty talk. “The sounds,” Bucky whispers to no one in particular, but enjoys the way it makes Tony’s hips stutter and Peter’s face heat up.

“Bucky, don’t say-say…oh, Daddy, right there!” he forgets his embarrassment amusingly easily, going back to pushing his hips back.

Tony grunts softly, leaning back so he can watch his cock fuck the come out of Peter’s hole, watch as it dribbles down and makes a mess on Bucky’s softening cock and his abs. “Fuck,” he breathes, looking up to meet Bucky’s.

Bucky grins lazily at him, pinching Peter’s nipples under his fingers just to hear him gasp and whine. “Gonna make him even more messy, Tones? Gonna fill him up even more, stuff him so full of our come he’s gonna bloat with it?”

Tony pants out a shaky breath, snapping his hips harshly into Peter, who very much doesn't mind. Far from it, Peter is releasing a filthy stream of moans and whimpers that would make a pornstar blush.

“Please Daddy, please fill me up, please m-make- oh god -please make me messier, please, please let me come, I need it, I need-” He cries out as Tony’s hand wraps around his cock and starts to pump in time with his thrusts.

“You can come angel, come all over Bucky for us. Make him just as messy as you are.” Tony’s hips are starting to falter, and Bucky knows he’s close.

“Come together,” Bucky murmurs, eyes flitting between both of their faces. “Now.”

Peter goes first, having been on edge for so long. He comes so hard that his voice gives out along with his arms, and he falls onto Bucky. Tony holds his hips up though, and he continues to jerk Peter off through the orgasm, painting Bucky in his release just as they all wanted.

Tony is very close behind him though, shoving as deep inside of Peter as he can as he shoots streams of come inside the boy. He leans heavily over Peter when he finishes, making the younger man whine and squirm against Bucky.

Bucky chuckles softly, soothing Peter by rubbing his sides. “You did such a good job taking it, doll. Good job. Good boy for us.”

Peter keens at the praise, sleepily nuzzling into Bukcy’s neck. He clenches around Tony, making the older man grunt in pleasured oversensitivity.

Tony finally pulls out after that, licking his lips at the sight in front of him. “Fuck,” Tony whispers, knees hitting the pillow beneath him as he dives back in to lick at Peter’s crack.

Peter cries out and whimpers, sucking a mark into Bucky’s neck. “Daddy, ‘m sensitive.” He wiggles his hips as he tries to get away, but he’s already pressed completely into Bucky’s front. There’s nowhere to go.

Tony ignores him, grabbing onto Peter’s ass and licking as deep as he can, eating his own and Bucky’s come and cleaning him up.

“Fuckin’ nasty,” Bucky praises, his cock giving another valient twitch under Peter’s own cock.

“Make Daddy stop, Bucky,” Peter pouts, tightening his arms around the man under him.

Tony pulls back before Bucky can even try, licking his lips smugly. Then he pushes Peter up Bucky’s body once more and licks the come off of his cock and abs, cleaning Bucky as well.

Bucky grunts after he’s already clean, and Tony is pushing his luck. He gently presses his boot into Tony’s chest, pushing him away. Tony looks up at him with dark eyes, lips swollen and wet. “Don’t rile me up again, doll, unless you’re going to follow though. ‘Cos I think princess here is out for the count.”

Peter bites him to protest the comments, but he can’t even find the energy to verbally protest or move.

Tony bites his lip, obviously thinking about it. Then he sighs in defeat, moving to his feet on shaky legs. “Come on, angel, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”

Bucky grins and kisses Peter’s hair softly before lifting him into Tony’s arms. Peter whines and pouts at having to move, but his arms latch around Tony’s neck easily. “You go ahead, I’ll be in soon. I’m just going to clean up first.”

Bucky stays seated for a while longer, watching his lovers disappear into their bedroom, and sighs happily. He loves them so much, and loves watching them whisper to each other after such an intense scene.

He finally groans in annoyance, standing up and looking at the mess he now has to clean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#winterspider #winteriron #winterironspider #starker #my writing

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bellofthemeadow · 1 year ago

Text

Summer of '03 | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Series Masterlist // Prologue

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 6.3K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlists, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: An unexpected meeting leads to a wonderful gals' only day. If only your new friend's dad was more amenable and less of a grouchy asshole.

Notes: Hey everyone! Look who's back, its me!!! Sorry abut the delay, everything has been crazy busy these past few weeks, but I am finally through!!! I hope you all really enjoy this new chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it :D I also tried to tag those who wanted to be tagged, if I missed you I really apologize!!! Also, if you want to be tagged for future chapters, just let me know.

Like always, thank you to everyone who shows interest in my writing, you guys mean the world to me!!! I love you all very very much <3

Taglist: @brittmb115 , @bitchwitch1981, @kittenlittle24

A Day by the Pool

After a week of living in Aunt Ruth’s house, the verdict was out: Texas was scorching hot! No, it was more than that. The humidity that permeated the air felt like it was adhering to the pores of your skin, leaving you feeling tired and grouchy on most days. The sun seared your skin, making "hot" seem like a complete understatement. Sweat poured from your every pore, even places you didn't know could sweat. You even had to resort to your grandma’s old trick to keep “fresh” and had started to carry a pack of wet wipes in your purse for those, now way too common, sweating emergencies. The mere thought of June and heaven forbid, July, was sending shivers down your spine. Maybe you'll have to hibernate inside the house for the rest of the summer, like a bear. Except, instead of sleeping the winter away, you would spend your Hot girl summer marinating on a flower-patterned couch while eating your weight in ice cream.

For now, however, you found respite from the blistering heat by plunging in the refreshing waters of Aunt Ruth's spacious backyard pool. It was a large rectangular pool, complete with a diving board and even a small waterslide! A child’s paradise and for you, literal heaven! You were pleasantly surprised when you first laid eyes on the pool, particularly its impeccable state. Considering Mrs. Ruth had passed away about two months ago, you expected signs of neglect like leaves lining the inside of the pool or dark murky waters. Yet, to your delight, it was in excellent condition. But the true highlight of the backyard was the four lounge chairs thoughtfully placed alongside the pool. Each equipped with its own individual parasols, they provided a perfect hiding place where you could bask in the cool shade, escaping the relentless sun's rays. You could spend hours lounging there after a delightful morning of swimming. It felt almost magical to realize that your only obligation now was to slather on enough sunscreen to protect your skin. No deadline to meet, no labs to complete, no research papers to write, no parents to please. Just living.

You had called Robbie that first night after giving yourself a thorough tour of the house. Robbie, as if he had been waiting right next to the phone, picked up after just two rings. "Gurl, tell me all! Do you like the house? Did you see the pool yet? Have you tried the bed? I don't know if I could sleep in it, you know I heard from my dad that Aunt Ruth died in her sleep!!! Maybe you should use one of the guest rooms, you know, in a ghost-free zone..." You chuckled at your friend's motormouth. Robbie could keep going for hours if you didn't stop him, and you loved him for it, as he had used that mouth of his to get you two out of trouble more than once. So you let yourself be swept away by his excitement, and the two of you chatted for hours. You told him about how hot Texas was and how thrilled you were that Aunt Ruth had a ready-to-use pool. Robbie shared in your excitement before adding, "Yeah, I know isn’t awesome!! Joel Miller took care of that when summer started." Well, that was enough to put a damper on your mood. You awkwardly chuckled before mentioning that you would thank the man when you saw him (If you never see Joel Miller again, it would be too soon).

You started lathering some more sunscreen on your upper arms and readjusted the top of your cute little two-piece swimsuit. You had gotten the bikini specifically for Texas, and you loved the adorable white two-piece set with tiny strawberries all over it. With your oversized cherry-red sunglasses, you felt like you were living your best 1960s rich housewife life! You let out a satisfied hum before allowing yourself to bask in the sunny weather. Your eyes started to droop, and you were ready to enjoy a post-swim nap when a tiny voice abruptly interrupted your moment.

"Sorry to bother you…" the unexpected voice chimed in. Abruptly startled, you let out a high-pitched scream, causing you to twist your body in a panic. In your haste, you ended up sprawled on the deck floor, with your red sunglasses barely hanging on the tip of your nose.

From your sprawled position, you peek at a small girl with a head of dark curly hair, wearing a bright purple t-shirt that seemed to match her vibrant energy. Her clever eyes widen with horror at the sight in front of her, and she rushes to your side.

"Oh my God, oh my God! I am so, so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you like that. Are you alright?" The unknown girl exclaims.

You manage to muster a half-hearted wave, or at least what you hope looks like one, as you try to regain your composure. "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. I just wasn't expecting anyone." You offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her worries.

The girl's face lights up with a mixture of relief and amusement. She bites her lower lip, a habit that seems to indicate both nervousness and a mischievous spirit. You take a moment to study her before asking, "And how can I help you..." You let the sentence trail off. "Sarah! My name is Sarah," she blurts out, her words tumbling out in a rush. Realizing her impulsive interruption, she quickly closes her mouth, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," you reply warmly, extending a hand towards her. Before you can introduce yourself, she interjects confidently, "I know who you are." You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her assertiveness which is rather rare for girls her age.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off. My dad always says I gotta be more polite with people, but I can't help it sometimes. Words just fly out before my brain can tell them not to," Sarah sheepishly explains.

A kind smile spreads across your face as you appreciate her candidness. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, you should never have to censor yourself for people's sake. You seem like a bright girl, so keep being yourself, and screw anyone who say otherwise!" Your words of encouragement seem to ignite a spark in her eyes, as her smile becomes positively radiant. She was lovely you thought with a smile that mirrored hers.

"But still, how can I help you, Sarah?" you inquire, genuinely curious about the reason behind her unexpected visit. You observe how Sarah's excitement transforms into nervous energy as she bounces on the balls of her feet. She lets out a sigh, twisting her fingers together. "I forgot my house keys... again."

Sympathy washes over you as you consider her situation. "Ohhh. Do you want to use my phone to call your parents? There is a house phone in the living ro..." you offer, hoping to be of assistance. However, Sarah's eyes widen with a mix of desperation and determination as she quickly interrupts your suggestion.

"No, please, no calling. It's the third time this week I forgot my key, and my dad will be pissed if I bother him again for his keys. He's working away from Austin today anyway, so I know he would just ask me to go to the Adlers' next door. But Mrs. Adler makes the worst cookies, and I don’t want to sound mean but they are so old and boring, and I really don't want to hang out there today. Especially since it’s Friday…" Sarah explains, her voice filled with a genuine sense of reluctance and distaste for the situation.

You nod in understanding, a smile tugs at your lips as you watch her giving herself what seems like a little mental pep-talk. "I saw you move in last week, and you seemed pretty cool, so I guess I was wondering if I could... if maybe you wouldn't mind..." Sarah's words trail off, uncertainty evident in her expression.

You meet her gaze with a reassuring smile. "If I wouldn't mind you staying with me this afternoon?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Sarah replies, her voice laced with nerves as she anxiously awaits your response.

Your smile widens, and you extend a hand toward her as you make an exaggerated flourish, "My dear Sarah, it would be my pleasure to have you as my guest. Consider my place your refuge from the dreadful cookie land of the Adlers. Come on in!"

Sarah lets out a loud laugh, warm and happy, the kind of laughter that tells you she is well-loved and has had a childhood surrounded by caring people. You don't remember ever laughing like that, so freely and happily. If you did, it had to be with Robbie. He was the closest thing you considered to a brother, and he was the only one who could make you genuinely laugh.

Guiding her inside, you grab a large glass adorned with printed daffodils, filling it with water and offering it to Sarah. "It's been so hot, you need to stay hydrated, especially if you were outside." Gratefully, Sarah accepts the glass and takes three big gulps before setting it back down on the counter. "Thanks, I just got home from school, and I know my dad won't be there until late tonight, so I really appreciate it.”

"It's no worries at all! I love having another girl around; it has been pretty lonely these past few days," you say warmly, feeling a genuine connection with this spirited young girl. Sarah looks at you with expectant eyes, and then she musters the courage to ask, "Maybe we could be friends?" Her words are tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You can't help but smile back, genuinely touched by her request. "I think that's an amazing idea, and I think we should have a girls' day until your dad comes home," you suggest with a playful wink, eliciting another delighted giggle from Sarah.

As Sarah sits at the kitchen island, you make a quick trip upstairs to the guest room you now call your own. Robbie's ghost warnings had made you wary of Aunt Ruth's bedroom, so you decided to settle in the more comfortable guest room instead. In the wardrobe, you find the old sage green bikini you used to wear back in high school. It was the first item of clothing you had bought with your own money when you were a kid, it was everything your parents hated from its colour to the size of the triangles covering the breast area. You had loved that bikini and had kept it all these years for sentimental value. After leaving New York, you hadn't had the heart to leave it behind.

As you hold the bikini in your hands, you let out a satisfactory hum—it would be a perfect fit for Sarah, and the colour would beautifully complement her complexion. With a smile, you head back downstairs, eager to share your find with her.

"We can't let this weather go to waste. This is my old bikini, and you can wear it so we can keep on enjoying the pool!" you exclaim, presenting the sage green bikini to Sarah. Her eyes light up with excitement. "Really!!! I love that pool. Mrs. Ruth always let me use it during the summer, but since she passed, Dad said I wouldn't be able to use it anymore..."

You can't bear to see Sarah disappointed, so you quickly reassure her. "Well, since I live here now, I give you permission to always use the pool as long as your dad lets you. Now come on, put the bikini on! We should have time to get a good swim in."

Sarah's face breaks into a huge smile as she eagerly takes the bikini to change. Moments later, the two of you head out to the pool, and the rest of the afternoon is filled with laughter, splashing, and bonding. You make virgin mojitos for you and Sarah, using the good glasses and take out of the fridge a large watermelon that you cut and lay on the side of the pool. Between splashes and many attempts at dunking, you enjoy the company of the young girl that you find equal part lovely and spirited. A terrific combination in a young girl in your opinion.

"Really?! You're a doctor, but you look so young!!" Sarah exclaims with a bewildered look, you were both in the water enjoying the sun warming your shoulders as you were sharing tidbits of your lives to each other. You can't help but let out a laugh at her adorable reaction. "Well, I finished med school, but I would still have about 4 more years of residency before I can be a proper doctor. 26 is about the right age to start residency," you explain, finding amusement in her innocent curiosity.

As the sun begins to set, casting a breathtaking display of pink and orange hues across the sky, you both decide it's time to call it a day for swimming. As you are gathering all of the stuff from the patio to bring inside, Sarah continues asking more questions, and you happily oblige, engaging in conversations that flows way better than any fake ones you had back in New York. Sarah was especially entranced by your stories about New York, she wanted to know everything about the big Apple, from the museums, the park, the fashion, the people. Everything was of interest to the girl. You were more than happy to oblige her, although you did skip over some details that were definitely not appropriate for a 14-year-old girl. "So are you doing your residency in Austin? Is that why you came here?" she innocently inquires.

The question tugs at your emotions, but you don't want to dampen the mood. "Not really... I had a really good residency lined up back in New York, at the same hospital that everyone in my family did theirs. Most of them actually still work there. But I guess I needed a break," you respond, quickly shifting gears to keep the atmosphere light and carefree. "Maybe we should order pizza and put on a movie?!”

Sarah agrees enthusiastically, her smile lighting up the room. You both head inside, deciding on a delicious pepperoni pizza with spicy pepper and a drizzle of honey—a perfect combination that you can’t wait to show Sarah. As for the movie, you settle on a cheesy rom-com, perfect to end a wonderful girls’ day at the pool.

Taking turns in the upstairs bathroom to wash off the dirt and sun from the afternoon's adventures, you pass Sarah one of your old, oversized science camp t-shirts and a pair of large basketball shorts that must belong to Robbie. You slip into an old NYU t-shirt from your undergrad days and a pair of tiny bikers shorts, feeling comfortable and at ease for the first time in a while.

Just as you both exit the bathroom, the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of the pizza. You pay for it, bringing the steaming delight back inside, and your mouth waters at the aroma of the gooey mozzarella. As you both settle down in the living room, the pizza box opens, and you pass a slice to Sarah. She eyes it with uncertainty, voicing her skepticism about the honey on pizza. "Still not 100% convinced that honey belongs on a pizza. Is it something New Yorkers do a lot?"

You chuckle at her question, finding her curiosity endearing. "I can't speak for every New Yorker, but my friend Robbie and I love the combo of sweet from the honey, spicy from the peppers, and savoury from the pepperoni and cheese. It completely changed our lives when we first tried it, like, 4 years ago. To be honest, we were totally drunk at the time, so it was just a happy accident that it turned out that good. Uh, sorry, maybe I shouldn't talk about my drinking life with a minor. Is that weird?"

Sarah joins in the laughter, lightening the mood with her witty response, "Oh yeah, totally, that's a serious offence, probably like 10 years in jail or something."

You playfully swat at the air in front of her, pretending to fend off her teasing. "Smartass, all right, young lady, no more stalling. Are you trying that pizza or not?"

With determined eyes, Sarah takes a large bite, and you watch her intently, curious about her reaction. As she chews, her eyes open wide, and a moan of delight escapes her mouth. “AH!” you can't help but let out a triumphant shriek, "Told you it was amazing!"

"How the hell does that work? I've never had a better pizza in like ever!" she says, going back for a second bite, while you can't help but laugh with pride.

As you and Sarah nestle into the plush cushions to watch "10 Things I Hate About You,” you both spent the majority of the movie commenting and laughing together. Halfway through, you get up and head to the kitchen where you quickly whip up your famous ice cream extravaganza. A massive bowl filled to the brim with scoops of creamy ice cream is filled to the brim with rainbow-coloured sprinkles, while you carefully place maraschino cherries like bright jewels atop the ice cream peaks. And the pièce de résistance: a heaping drizzle of decadent chocolate sauce cascades down the ice cream mountain.

As you put the finishing touches on the ice cream, you think how time passed quickly today and you noticed it was already 9:15 pm. The realization dawns on you that Sarah has been with you for quite a while now, and a gentle concern niggles at your mind.

You head back to the living room with the bowl of ice cream that Sarah is eyeing like a hawk and ask, "Hey, not that you're intruding or anything like that, but it's getting quite late. Is it normal for your dad to leave you like that on your own?"

Sarah pauses the movie and takes the bowl of ice cream with greedy hands, "Thanks for that, it looks amazing! I guess it happens sometimes. My dad is a contractor, so sometimes his jobs run kinda late. That's why if I forget my keys, I'm kind of screwed, especially when the job is outside of Austin."

Your brain short-circuits as you realize you hadn't even asked Sarah who her dad was. You berate yourself for not thinking of such an important detail. "Wait, what's your dad's name?" you hurriedly ask, hoping to rectify your oversight.

As a series of loud knocks resonates from the front door, Sarah doesn't have time to answer, and you feel yourself grow pale. You manage a tight smile, making a wave toward Sarah's melting ice cream, and hesitantly head toward the door. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't shake the sinking feeling in your gut.

Feeling light-headed, almost drunk with anxiety, you can't help but pray that whoever is at the door is not the man you met when you first got to Austin. There has got to be more than one contractor in the area, right? This is suburbia, not some B-movie! You are totally making a mountain out of a molehill, the logical part of your mind trying its hardest to convince you that Sarah’s Dad and douche Miller are unlikely to be the same person.

Still, as you reach the door, the knocks are growing louder and more insistent, setting your nerves on edge. Taking a fortifying breath, you try to steady your trembling hands as you finally open the door, preparing yourself for whoever stands on the other side. To your horror, you are met with the now familiar furious gaze of none other than Joel Miller himself. His presence alone feels suffocating, and it sends shivers down your spine.

"Is m’daughter ‘re?" Joel demands, his voice carrying a gruff edge, making his thick southern accent even thicker and sending a shiver down your spine. Under the weight of his intense gaze, you find yourself growing warm, almost uncomfortably so. His eyes lock onto you, assessing you from head to toe, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of your choice of attire - tiny shorts and an oversized shirt that now seem woefully inadequate in front of this imposing man.

The disapproval in his eyes is palpable as they linger on your exposed collarbones, making you feel strangely vulnerable. It's as if every inch of your skin is under scrutiny, and you can't help but wonder why your shoulder seems to provoke such vexation in him. His stare is cutting and contemptuous, unlike anything you've experienced before.

Yet, despite the disdainful aura surrounding him, you can't help but find yourself drawn to the sheer presence he commands in your doorway. He looms tall and broad, casting a shadow over the moon's light, and you can't deny the strange allure that emanates from this powerful figure. It's a confusing mix of fear and fascination, and you chide yourself internally for feeling this way.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" you silently berate yourself, recognizing the absurdity of finding any attraction in someone who clearly views you with such disdain. You can't afford to be captivated by him, not when his gaze feels like that of someone inspecting a revolting object beneath their shoe.

Summoning your strength, you gather your resolve to meet his gaze head-on. This time, you won't cower or falter; you won't let him see a trace of vulnerability. Squaring your shoulders, you lock eyes with him, a silent message passing between you – you won't be intimidated.

"Yes, she is," you answer, observing the man's face contort even further, as though he had bitten into a bitter lemon.

"Well, she shouldn't be here! SARAH, COME HERE RIGHT NOW!" His bellow reverberates through the room, but you stand your ground, unfazed by his attempt to intimidate you. What did he say last time? Rich princess from New York? You'll fucking show him!

Confidently placing your left hand on your hips, you subtly jut to the side, purposefully drawing his attention with the alluring curve of your body. Like a puppet on strings, his eyes obediently follow your every move, and a subtle sense of triumph courses through you. It's evident that this little battle isn't one-sided; he's undeniably affected by your presence too.

With an exaggerated eyeroll that could qualify for an Olympic medal, you let out an exasperated huff. You start to speak in slow motion as if dealing with a child, "Sarah told me she forgot her key, and she knew you'd be working outside of Austin. Can you really blame her for not wanting to disturb her oh-so-busy dad? But relax, we didn't go all wild and crazy—just a harmless girls' day by the pool, stuffing ourselves with pizza, and catching a movie. Seriously, take a chill pill; you can loosen that suffocating overprotective tie of yours. And for the record, I may not be Einstein, but handling a 14-year-old without triggering Armageddon is totally my expertise, no biggie.”

Joel’s eye twitch at the words “chill pill” and he further grits his teeth at your tone. "She. Shouldn't. Be. Here," he enunciates back, his disapproval evident.

"Oh, really?!" you scoff, your irritation bubbling over like a boiling cauldron. "Yeah, I must be the epitome of evil, right? I mean, looking after a kid, making sure she has a nice day, and God forbid, ensuring she's fed! I should be locked up for sure! You should totally dial 911 and report me to the authorities!" Your sarcasm drips like honey, leaving no room for doubt that you're not about to back down from this verbal showdown.

Your words hang tantalizingly in the air, a challenge thrown down before him, daring him to question your sincerity and genuine concern for Sarah. The tension between you two crackles like an electrifying storm, neither of you willing to yield an inch. But you stand tall and unyielding, resolute in defending your actions and your new blossoming affection for his daughter.

As the two of you lock eyes, a charged atmosphere envelopes the porch, but suddenly, a soft pitter-patter of feet breaks the tension. Sarah appears, still in the pajamas you lent her earlier, her face flushed with shame and on the brink of tears. For the first time since meeting Joel, his angry, prideful expression softens, replaced by genuine concern.

"Babygirl, you should've called to tell me you forgot your key. I would have arranged something for you," Joel's voice now carries a fatherly concern that tugs at your heartstrings. Despite the extreme reaction he displayed earlier, you can't help but understand his worry. If it were your daughter with a stranger, you'd probably be upset too.

Trying to ease the situation, you place a reassuring hand on Sarah's shoulder and conjure the warmest smile you can manage. "Your dad is right, Sarah. We should've called him as soon as you got here to let him know you'd be hanging out with me." Your gaze shifts to Joel, an apologetic expression etched on your face. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn't mean to cause any offence. I should have contacted you earlier to let you know Sarah was with me."

Joel's eyes remain fixated on your hand resting on Sarah's shoulder, the intensity palpable. But before you can react, he interrupts, his voice stern and unwavering, "You are goddamn right. You should've called me, and you did cause offence, girl." Your smile fades, and even Sarah seems taken aback, blurting out an indignant, squeaky "DAD!?"

But Joel Miller remains unfazed in his anger as he levels you with a look that makes you feel as small as when you were Sarah's age. "Come, Sarah, we are leaving. I don't want ya hanging 'round here again." Sarah tries to protest, but her dad remains unmoved by her pleas. "I don't care; I'll rent the movie for ya tomorrow. Now, come on." Sarah deflates and takes a step forward, but before she leaves, she turns her head toward you, offering a small, shy smile. "Thank you for today. It was the most fun I've had in a long time. I haven't had the chance to hang out with just a girl in a while," she adds softly.

You smile back warmly, touched by her words. "It was my pleasure, Sarah. I had a great time too. It was amazing to meet you." Sarah beams at you before following her dad, her posture sullen and unhappy. As you watch the two Millers retreating, you notice Mr. Miller trying to put his arm around Sarah in what you assume is a sweet, paternal gesture, but you cringe a bit when she furiously pushes him away and walks faster in front of him.

She reaches the door first, and when she finds it unlocked, she rips it open before slamming it in her father's face. Ouch, you think, laying your body across the door's side as you witness Mr. Miller rubbing his nose. You can't help but snort. Teenage girls are savage, you think.

As if your thoughts have magical powers, Joel turns around, and your gazes collide like a fierce clash of swords. The intensity in his eyes matches the fire in your own, and for a couple of seconds that feel like an eternity, you both lock onto each other, a charged silence enveloping the space between you.

You shake your head slowly, breaking eye contact first, but the tension lingers in the air like an invisible web, pulling you both towards each other even as you walk away. It's infuriating how he can get under your skin so effortlessly, how he manages to ignite a mix of intrigue and irritation deep within you.

You can't help but wonder what lies behind that impenetrable wall he's built around himself, what secrets and vulnerabilities he hides behind that tough exterior. But it doesn't matter; you know that, in his eyes, you are the enemy, the one he refuses to see beyond his preconceived judgments.

Yet, despite the anger that simmers beneath the surface, there's an undeniable pull, a magnetic force that draws you to this gruff man, like opposing poles of a magnet.

You can't deny the allure of this complex man, even as he remains an enigma wrapped in an armour of obstinacy. And he, too, seems unable to escape the intriguing power you hold over him, as much as he may resist it.

As you retreat indoors, the lingering tension leaves your heart pounding, the conflicting emotions swirling inside you like a tempest. There's a strange exhilaration in this cat-and-mouse game, a forbidden thrill that leaves you simultaneously infuriated and enticed.

With a heavy sigh, you take in the disarray of the living room—the movie still paused on the screen, a half-eaten bowl of ice cream slowly melting on the coffee table. The scene serves as a reminder of the day you spent with Sarah, and now that she's gone, the loneliness settles in like a heavy fog.

As you sit back in front of the TV and press play on the VCR, the room feels emptier than ever before. The laughter and chatter that once filled the space are now replaced with a haunting silence that amplifies the ache in your heart. Loneliness wraps around you like a suffocating shroud, and you can't help but feel adrift in the complexities of human relationships. The bittersweet memories of the day play in your mind like a broken record, and you can't escape the feeling of being lost in a sea of emotions.

___________

The room crackles with tension as Sarah and Joel face off, their emotions raw and unyielding. Sarah's defiance clashes with Joel's anger, and their words slice through the air like knives.

"I don't care what you think, Sarah! I am still your dad, and you can't just disappear without telling me where you are like that! I come home, and you are not here, and the Adlers don't know where you are!! What was I supposed to do?" Joel's frustration spills over, his voice raised.

Sarah's voice trembles with remorse, but her resolve remains firm. "I know I should've told you, and I am sorry for that! But you didn't need to be such an asshole to her either! She was nice to me, and she took care of me even if she didn't have to!"

"Watch your mouth, Sarah!"

"YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" Sarah's scream startles Joel, and he flinches. She continues, her emotions pouring out. "That was so uncalled for! I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but you just cost me the chance to have a real girlfriend! Someone who is smart and listened to me." Tears well up in Sarah's eyes, and Joel's heart breaks at the sight.

"Babygirl, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, but you meant to upset her," Sarah retorts, her anger unyielding. Joel's silence speaks volumes, and she pushes on, her voice filled with frustration. "That was so not cool, Dad, and if you took five minutes to talk with her without looking at her like she killed someone, you'd realize how nice she was."

Joel, however, remains unyielding. "What she is, is irresponsible. She should've called me; that's what any adult would have done in this scenario."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah dismisses his argument, clearly hurt by his stubbornness. "Whatever, Dad, I'm going to sleep."

"This conversation isn't over, Sarah! SARAH!" But all he gets in response is the sound of Sarah's door being slammed hard, shaking the whole house.

Joel let out a heavy sigh as he made his way to the fridge, his hand hesitating for a moment before grabbing the last beer. Tomorrow, he'd have to make a trip to the supermarket, but right now, his mind was preoccupied with something else entirely. As he settled down on the sofa, he closed his eyes, and there you were, the first thing that invaded his thoughts. The truth was, he couldn't help but wonder why you had such an intense and inexplicable hold on him.

From the moment he saw you in those tiny shorts and ridiculous Disney shirt, something within him shifted. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs, and his heart was racing like a stampede of wild horses. Your sweaty face and matted hair, so natural and real, along with your shy and sweet composure, had captivated him entirely. It was as if every fiber of his being was magnetically drawn to you, yet he couldn't fathom why.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervously captivated by a girl. Because you were a girl. You must be at least 15 years younger than him. He felt dirty and old looking at how long your legs looked in those shorts you seem to always have on, like the dirty neighbourhood pervert who had nothing better to do than lust after the babysitter.

It was unnerving, and he struggled to understand the depths of these emotions he kept tucked away, hidden from the world. The memories of your first encounter replayed in his mind like a broken record. He knew he had been harsh with you that day, but what was he supposed to do? Each word he used against you felt like a weapon, and the image of your doe eyes brimming with unshed tears haunted him.

When you offered your thanks, showing kindness even after his callousness, it pierced his heart like a dagger of regret. He wanted nothing more than to slam his head against the wall, punishing himself for his thoughtless behavior. The truth was, he was utterly conflicted – torn between wanting to run after you and apologize, saying, "Please don't go. I'm the one who's sorry. I apologize. You look like sunshine, and I don't know what to do with myself. Please forgive me.”

You seemed to have done your best to avoid him in the following week, but he would spot you sometimes early in the morning or late at night hanging around the pool. The backyard wasn’t fenced so he always had a front-row seat of you going for a swim when he was leaving for work in the morning or coming back from work late at night. The sight of you walking around the pool, skin glistening with water wearing nothing but that cute strawberry bikini was tattooed forever behind his eyelid. The shape of your breast and the curve of your ass tantalizing him, he knows he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help himself. If he had known that opening the pool 1 month ago would lead to the biggest sexual torture of his life, he wouldn’t have touched Ruth’s pool after her death.

And after today, everything felt like a fucking mess. Joel had been overwhelmed with worry for Sarah, and when he found her with you, it was like a tidal wave of emotions crashing over him. The sight of you both together after he had torn down the neighbourhood left him unable to contain his anger. He couldn't help but lash out, and now, looking back, he felt like the world's biggest asshole.

Joel had stood there, a silent observer, as he watched his little girl's face light up with joy in your presence. The genuine and tender care you showed her warmed his heart, and he couldn't help but marvel at how quickly you had formed a bond with her, just within a day! The way you supported and cared for her filled him with a longing so intense that it bordered on painful.

As he observed from the sidelines when Sarah said goodbye to you, he couldn't help but drift into daydreams where he played an integral part in your life. In these fantasies, he imagined coming home after a grueling day, feeling exhausted and worn down, only to be greeted by your calm and soothing presence. You'd be standing there, wearing those alluring, tiny shorts that seemed to have been made to captivate his attention, and his heart would skip a beat.

In his daydream, he'd step into your embrace, and you'd hold him close, comforting him with your tender touch and understanding words. Sarah, ever the playful one, would pretend to gag theatrically on the sofa, teasingly pretending to be grossed out by your affectionate display.

A wave of desire surged through him, mingled with guilt and self-reproach. How could he dare to entertain such fantasies when he knew he had been a complete jerk to you in the past? He berated himself for his weakness, feeling utterly pathetic for allowing his heart to yearn for something he believed he didn't deserve.

Joel sat back in the worn sofa, his fingers wrapped around the cool, frosted beer. With one last sip, he let the refreshing liquid slide down his parched throat, providing a momentary relief to the weariness that enveloped him after the long and demanding day.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on his eyelids as he yearned for a chance to escape into the elusive realm of dreams. Slowly, he closed his eyes, seeking solace from the relentless demands of the world. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he surrendered to the allure of slumber.

In the stillness of the moment, thoughts of dreams danced through his mind. Would he find you there, your comforting presence holding him close with a gentle smile? The image brought a faint spark of hope and longing. Joel felt himself grow numb, hoping for a peaceful night, where you might appear, making his slumber all the more enchanting.

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