#(this has been AGES on my drafts so it´s time for it so see the light lol)
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violetsareblue-selfships · 4 months ago
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okay been thinking about this more but the first meeting w/ arlecchino, as I've mentioned before is literally when my harbinger's making herself breakfast in the kitchens & everything (like the first week she's at hq bc of signora -- maybe not the first day but that first week definitely). so she's not a harbinger at this point (and arle hasn't been one very long (the meeting might even be just a little after the tsaritsa grants her her title)
just imagining how that goes. like i'm not ready to meet any of the harbingers yet (signora's in charge of me meeting the others mostly) and it's early and i'm likely still disheveled somewhat - comfy clothes (if not pjs), slightly messy hair, all of that. and of course i get nervous when it's the first time i don't have the kitchens to myself at that time but i offer to make her more of the dish i'm making when she recognizes that it's a fontainian breakfast
i think there's something about her crush (however vague it is at this point) starting when I'm not looking put-together. like there'll be an official meeting with her later (like signora introduces us) where she sees me actually putting effort in, but her being attracted to that kind, imperfect state <3
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phas3d · 5 months ago
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Hi there! I’m not sure if your still taking requests, but I would love to know your thoughts on how Lorenzo, Theo, Draco, Mattheo, and Tom would react to their s/o wearing their hoodie/sweater. I was thinking headcanons or a Drabble but anything would be great! I really love writing and hope you feel inspired to write even more soon!
Wearing Their Clothes | Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: calling theo a man whore, calling enzo a twink,
contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo
notes :: inspired by uhh, nothing really - this prompt has been in my draft for ages and i finallyyyy finished it - THANK YOU to everyone who sends requests, I'm finally getting to them
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DRACO MALFOY
When you complained about being cold, he instantly started lecturing you
"I told you it would get cold but your little pea brain didn't process that"
But while he's lecturing you, he's taking off his jumper and handing it to you
It smells like him and it's super soft
He only buys the best material for his clothes, because duhhh
He lets you wear it until you're somewhere warm
Although he loves you, he loves his jumper more
But he does sacrifice some of his jumpers by letting you wear them because, he hates to admit it, but you look super cute in his clothes
TOM RIDDLE
He watches you shiver for a few minutes until he decides to offer his jacket
You could literally be turning blue but he won't offer his jacket until he feels like it
He sighs, as if you asked for his jacket, and drapes his jacket around your shoulders
And guess what,,, he even ZIPS IT UP FOR YOU
AHHHH
Even though he's a dickhead at times, he's still a gentleman
When you put on his jacket, he slightly smirks at how big it is on you
Not cause you're cute, but because it makes him feel powerful to know he's bigger
MATTHEO RIDDLE
Is so so happy when he sees you out in the cold during his quidditch match
He's beaming and passes by you in the bleachers for a quick second as he throws his spare jersey in your arms
When you put it on, you smell his sweat and musk
Which would smell disgusting to some but to you, that's your boy :)
During his game, he glances over at you and smiles when he sees you wearing it
It helps push him to win even more
THEODORE NOTT
Sadly, Theo is a man-whore
Meaning he is always serving cunt,,, meaning he rarely wears jackets or sweaters
So if you're cold,,, so is he
Buttt on the lucky chance he is actually wearing a jacket and hiding his muscles, he doesn't hesitate to give you his jacket
And his jackets are 10 times better because not only is it always great material, clean, but it's also stylish
He always takes pictures of you when you wear his jacket, it makes him feel so happy and giddy
It kinda inspires him to try and style outfits for you to wear
Possibly plans matching outfits, that way if you get cold and he needs to give you his jacket - it will match both of you :)
This man is a THINKER!!! mwah
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
This man is a twig, twink, pocket sized
He will fly away in the wind like a napkin
BUT luckily, he loves getting massively oversized hoodies
It smells like the woods, a hint of lavender, but mostly fresh grass and sunlight is his scent
He loves to cool and comfy looks it gives - always gets a cool ass design on it as well
When you borrow his hoodies, he gets so giddy
He loves it so much since it's like he's claiming you in a way
Similar to how you leave hair ties, claw clips, and extra lip glosses all over his room
Definitely stacks up on big hoodies, that way you have a bunch of options to choose from
Even gets you guys matching designs in different colors
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pedrospatch · 10 months ago
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baby, i’m yours
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
main masterlist l fic notifs
Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.
“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.
“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”
“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.
Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.
He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.
Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.
Baby, I'm yours
and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky
yours until the rivers all run dry
in other words, until I die
He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.
Joel wants to be annoyed. 
Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.
You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.
Baby, I’m yours
and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines
yours until the poets run out of rhyme
in other words, until the end of time
Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.
Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.
Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.
Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.
“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.
“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”
Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”
“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”
“Sure.”
He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.
Fucking Christ. 
You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?
Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.
For being so, so fucking good for him.
He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 
You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.
He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.
Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?
He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.
You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.
The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.
“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”
Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.
Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”
“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.
“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”
Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.
“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”
“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.
Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.
Could it be that you’re actually content with him?
Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 
“I’m gonna stay right here by your side
do my best to keep you satisfied
nothing in this world can drive me away
‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”
It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”
You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”
“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”
Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.
“Because I don’t want anyone else.”
“You deserve better.”
You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”
“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”
“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”
Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”
His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.
“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”
His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”
You sigh.
“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”
The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.
You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”
“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”
Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.
It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.
Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.
After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”
“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”
It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.
He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”
“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.
Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.
“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”
You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”
You say it over and over again and he believes it.
He finally fucking believes it.
Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.
“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”
“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”
“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”
When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.
“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”
Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
Joel grins. “And your point is?”
You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.
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mikodaiyo · 2 years ago
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I said things about @mythicamagic @cakeit0n @drosselmeyerwrites @chierafied @elevenharbor @sayuri-liu @cdart-carmendaniele @sagemcmae @tmetta and youkaiyume that I hid in the tags because I'm SHY I GUESS I'M CRAZY SHY??
Let's spread some love: tag your favorite people/bloggers and let them know how appreciated they are 💗
oh i hate these because i’m always afraid i’ll forget someone (but the sentiment is nice!)
@waywardbaby @supernatural-jackles @deanwanddamons @negans-lucille-tblr @lovealways-j @evanbukley @evansrogerskitten @nihilism-sophia @samdeanbitchjerk @kittenofdoomage @luci-in-trenchcoats @im-lovestruck
i feel like i’m forgetting people and i’m sorry if i actually did! love y’all ♥️
#I'm terrible at replying to things I get such stage fright from being perceived 😩 I'm working on it though 🤧#when i get @s it takes me such a long time to know how to respond but i do keep these in my drafts#I feel like i have to say that otherwise I'm coming off so ungrateful! but i really do appreciate being part of things like this#fandoms are fun the people are really sweet and I highkey have a crush on all of you 💀#UNLESS YOU KNOW UNLESS YOU'RE NOT IN MY AGE BRACKET then I still care for you and hope this blog#gives you all a good experience#I'm writing in the rags instead of an @ bc everyone I know has been @d already#the rags bro the TAGS#wait ima just do it here#mythicamagic's work no matter the fandom has become one of my favorites and I hope we become close internet buds 🙏🏾#mythica's voice like their writing voice I like the way they convey emotion and think myth is really skilled#cakeit0n has always had a charming energy to them and honestly I want to be as nice as them like that's a role model!#their personality is chef's kiss cakeit0n is like a fun day at the beach#elevenharbor is like if I went to school and made a friend on the first day that's so embarrassing to say but its true ahhhh fuck ahhhAHHHH#eleven is like the friend I would hype up against their will like is it lunch? Recess? Silent study I dont care LOOK AT ELEVEN#and then people like sayuri. cdart. sagemcmae and cherifield. tmetta. drosselmeyer and youkaiyume#I have such respect for like they did it. they've mastered it. whether its their amazing organization or their dedication to craft or just#how they peacefully exist and enjoy things I am just in awe and I just dont want to talk to them because I am so immature compared to them#and its embarrassing 😭😂 like maybe one day but not today I just want them to know I like them on a different level#chierafied I'm sorry I spelled it all wrong holyyyy see this is why I don't do thissss#oh also of course mama-ino and imjaneees and Stardust damn there's so many of you I want to get to know better#and I didn't tag youkaiyume bc their into other stuff rn and I dont want to bother them and I'm chicken lol i do not wish to be perceived
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vanishingcherry · 1 year ago
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YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.
masterlist
๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑
The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.
"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.
"And I'm Charles"
"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"
You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.
"Are you ready?"
"Is that the first question?" he retorts.
Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."
"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."
You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.
"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?
He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."
You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"
"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.
"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."
Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.
"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"
He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.
"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."
"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.
"Fine. Uh, AUS23."
"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.
"Then what? I know its not Miami."
"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.
You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"
You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."
He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."
Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."
Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."
"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"
"Left."
"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"
"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."
You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"
He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"
"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."
"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.
"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.
"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."
He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."
"What was I wearing on our first date?"
You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."
His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"
"A lot of things, Char."
"Is that your final answer, cherie?"
"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."
"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.
"How many kids do I want?"
"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"
"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"
"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."
His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.
"What is one my hidden talents?"
You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.
"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"
The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.
"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."
Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."
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Comments:
charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME
ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me
username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have
doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts
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i-arch-my-backula · 2 years ago
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Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'
I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.
Includes: Doomhead, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair
Warnings: None I can think of
Doomhead
He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".
When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.
"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.
He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.
Mark Hoffman
You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.
When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."
He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.
He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.
Peter Strahm
You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.
He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.
Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.
He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.
Hannibal Lecter
You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.
You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."
He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.
The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.
Bo Sinclair
You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.
When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.
"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.
You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.
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that-sarcastic-writer · 7 months ago
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Coffee and Other Things
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DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language
WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things
A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.
If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there
Universe masterlist
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God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.
You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today. 
You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.
But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter. 
"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."
"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time." 
Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time." 
She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well. 
"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?" 
The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit. 
"Thank you daddy!" 
"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends." 
Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.  
You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you. 
"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon. 
"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away. 
You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?
"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over. 
"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious. 
"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from." 
You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you. 
"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed. 
"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time." 
"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?" 
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you. 
"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it. 
Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point. 
But you were so glad you were wrong. 
~~~~
"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes." 
You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight. 
This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no. 
"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.
His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans. 
"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please." 
Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties. 
"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you." 
Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties. 
"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it." 
He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair. 
He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.
Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him. 
"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response. 
He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best." 
Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement. 
"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt. 
"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck. 
"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone. 
“Hmph… Careful baby.” 
You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.
“What.. What is that? Are you okay?” 
He found the concern in your voice endearing. 
“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but. 
“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay. 
“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?” 
“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later. 
He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was. 
“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?” 
All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture. 
“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.” 
Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it. 
His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough. 
“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?” 
It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there. 
“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips. 
“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock. 
Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world. 
“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel. 
Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight. 
He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down.. 
“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.” 
Please. 
God. 
Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned. 
“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.” 
Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there. 
“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point. 
“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck. 
You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close. 
“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear. 
He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much. 
“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close. 
“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.” 
He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you. 
“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw. 
You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel his warmth.
“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment. 
“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension. 
“In a car.. You know? I've never..” 
A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?” 
“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled. 
“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.” 
And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational. 
You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride. 
“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”
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cheolaholic · 9 months ago
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ring of love; csc (05)
summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.
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modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut
a/n;; omg, i'm alive????? jkjk, work's been piling up lately and i'm honestly drained by the time I get back home so I couldn't do much writing or even qc the draft before yoinking them into a tumblr draft 💀 but anyways, hope yall enjoy this chapter !! uri boo makes a small little cameo in this chapter :D a part of the angst in this fic has also arrived, pls be prepared (it’s not that heavy tho).
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You were 15 when you experienced your first ‘heartbreak’. Though, you call it a ‘heartbreak’ solely because it was a “for the lack of a better word” situation. A week before summer break, your parents had announced that the three of you would be flying off to Jeju to visit your grandparents.
You adore your grandparents, and they adore you just as much. Before you started middle school, you remember constantly flying off to Jeju, or even taking the ferry, to visit them every holiday and school break possible. Even during the initial stage of your move to the small town, your parents had sent you off to your grandparents as they sorted out the heavier parts.
Your grandparents had brought you to the beach, taught you how to make kimchi and even brought you to one of the fireworks shows during your stay. But, when you started middle school and were bombarded by a shit ton of schoolwork, you weren’t able to visit them as often.
So, you were ecstatic when your parents announced the Jeju trip. Both Aki and Seungcheol could see the excitement and happiness in your eyes as you told them about your plans.
Aki asking you questions about Jeju while Seungcheol listens to both of you with a small smile on his face. “how long will you be there, pup?” he asks, cheek leaning against the palm of his hand.
“Uhm… I think maybe for two weeks? I’m not really sure… Dad did ask mom if she wanted me to tag along with them to London afterwards…”
“Oh? What are they gonna be doing in London?”
“They have a business meeting that lasts at least two days. But, they decided to stay back a week for a mini vacation.”
“Do you want to go?” Aki asks as she pops a piece of strawberry into her mouth, stealing a glance at Seungcheol, noticing the way his shoulders are slumped at the mention of you thinking of joining your parents overseas.
Dude looks like a puppy not wanting its owner to leave it alone… she thought to herself, finding the scene in front of her amusing.
“Well, whether or not you want to join your parents, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself regardless!” she spoke.
“Take good care of yourself, pup,” Seungcheol added as he reached out a hand and patted your head, sending a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and a teasing smile on Aki’s lips, “If you ever need anything, call me, okay?”
“Or me!”
The older male rolled his eyes at Aki’s words, smiling when you nod your head.
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“Seungkwannie!” you squealed out in happiness as you ran up to your cousin who was standing out at the gates of your grandparent's house, engulfing him in a big hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! Mom and Dad said that you’d be in Biyangdo!”
“And miss out on the chance to spend time with my favourite cousin? Never!” Seungkwan proclaimed as he pecked your cheek. “I haven’t seen you in years, ___! There’s no way I’d pass off the opportunity to spend time with you while you’re here!”
Seungkwan is your cousin from your mom’s side of the family. Before the age of 5, you don’t remember much about meeting Seungkwan other than the stories both your parents would tell you over family dinners. For example, when you asked them about the scar Seungkwan had on his chest, his dad said you were the one that left it on him. They proceeded to tell the story of how you had scratched Seungkwan because he had refused to let you watch Pocoyo on tv when both of you were just 3.
Or when his mom would ask you if you remembered Seungkwan hiding in the closet to scare you, but you ended up crying because you had thought he went home. So, instead of scaring you, he came out of the closet and both your parents found the two of you cuddled up on the floor the next morning
After Seungkwan helped you and your parents move the luggage into your grandparent’s home, Both of you sat on the porch, drinking the lemonade your grandmother had prepared. “How’re you, aunt and uncle doing?” he asks, “I heard from Uncle Lee that you’re starting high school soon! probably in a few months, right?”
“Things have been the same, besides the whole mom and dad having to go overseas occasionally and I had to stay with either Aki or Seungcheol.”
“Speaking of Seungcheol, how’s that little crush of yours on him going?” Seungkwan asked with a teasing smile, nudging your sides, “Ever thought of telling him before he graduates? There’s a chance he might head off to the big cities or even abroad for college.”
You were silent for a moment.
You have thought about telling Seungcheol your feelings, but you never thought about the timing. Now that his graduation is nearing, you still haven’t told him. As you were still stuck in your thoughts, Seungkwan places a hand on your shoulder, “Well, whatever happens, I wish you happiness.“
“You say that as if I’m leaving you forever.”
“Hey, let me be sentimental!”
Just as you rolled your eyes, you felt your phone vibrate - you had gotten a text from Aki.
aki: did you make it to Jeju safe? ___ bestie <3: yeap! ___ bestie <3: i’m with my cousin rn ___ bestie <3: [sent an attachment] aki: ooh, he’s cute ___ bestie <3: want me to introduce you? aki: gurl aki: don’t try to matchmake me when you’re struggling to tell Seungcheol about how you feel aki: and besides aki: your cousin is cute, but he’s not my type ___ bestie <3: wow ___ bestie <3: you really just did me dirty aki: i’m just saying ___ aki: better tell him before you lose the chance aki: besides your romantic struggles aki: have fun and take lots of pictures! aki: can’t wait to see them when you get back <3 ___ bestie <3: i will!
“Are you gonna stay here with grandma and grandpa while Aunt and Uncle Lee fly out to London?” Seungkwan asks as you set down your phone, refilling his glass of lemonade. You shrugged, still debating on whether or not you wanted to join your parents. “I’m honestly stuck in between… On one hand, I want to see what other countries are like. On the other, I haven’t seen grandma and grandpa in years…”
Your mother who was on her way to give you both a plate of strawberries overheard the conversation and tried her best to help you with your indecisiveness. “___, sweetie,” she began as she set the plate on the wooden porch floor, “you can always travel in the future when you’re all grown up.”
“That sounds like you just want her to stay here in Jeju so you and uncle can enjoy yourselves without her presence,” Seungkwan teased, earning a forehead flick from your mother.
“Well, she’ll be in your care too, Seungkwan. I hope I won’t return to a sassy, diva daughter after leaving her here with you.”
Seungkwan gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest at your mother’s statement. “Aunt Lee, I’m hurt and offended.”
“You’re just further proving my point, Seungkwan.”
“Hey, the sass could end up helping her in the future!”
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cheollie: hey, pup cheollie: mom said you and your parents made it to Jeju safely cheollie: how are you feeling? cheollie: did you get motion sickness during the flight? cheollie: did you eat dinner yet? sweet pup: ehh, the motion sickness wasn’t that bad sweet pup: grandma made lemonade :D sweet pup: and yes, i ate dinner! sweet pup: grandpa grilled some mackerel sweet pup: [sent an attachment] sweet pup: and look at how fat the strawberries are :0 sweet pup: [sent an attachment] cheollie: wow cheollie: those look good cheollie: hey, do you think it’s alright if we have a call? sweet pup: like, right now? cheollie: yea sweet pup: oh sweet pup: um, let me head out to the porch cheollie: take your time, pup
As you quietly exited the room you were staying in and out onto the porch, you picked up Seungcheol’s incoming call, feeling the butterflies in your stomach intensify when you heard his deep, “Hey, pup.”
“Hi, Cheollie! Have you had your dinner?” you asked, getting a small hum as a response. “Dad got a deal with a big client so he bought steak for us. Mom also cooked calamari.”
“Wow, it must’ve tasted amazing…”
“Yeah, it was. But, tell me about your dinner, ___. I’m sure you had more than just grilled mackerel.” Seungcheol chuckled, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mentally cussed at how the older male still has an effect on you despite being 2 hours away and talking to you through a phone.
“Well… Mom made raw crabs and seafood soup!”
“Looks like my little puppy is eating well... That’s good.”
“Is there another reason you wanted to call, Cheollie?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end, making you slightly anxious. You hear a faint rustling, thinking he must be lying on his bed as he’s talking to you. A sigh was heard before Seungcheol told you his motive for calling you - and to say it had you on the floor was an understatement.
No, this man had you envisioning a future with him.
“I miss you.”
When you didn't respond, Seungcheol got worried, calling out your name on the other end while you remained stunned at his confession.
“U-uhm, yeah?”
“Did that make you uncomfortable, pup?”
“No, no, it just… It just caught me by surprise…”
You hear Seungcheol chuckle, and more rustling can be heard before he speaks again. “Well, I’m used to having you around me, twenty-four seven, ___. It feels weird when you’re not.”
“I’ll be back in two weeks, Cheollie. You’re being dramatic!”
Maybe he was, the older male thought to himself. But, he pushes that thought to the back of his head as he finally tells you the real reason he’s calling you.
“My parents are thinking of bringing me to Seoul this weekend to check out a few unis… I just thought that I’d let you know since, y’know… I’m graduating soon…”
Your heart sank at the mention of him graduating. You knew it was bound to happen - you even told yourself to not be too sad when he does end up moving out of Daegu for college. But, to hear it coming from Seungcheol himself, the reality hit harder.
“Oh… Well, I’m happy for you!” you tried your best to hide the sadness in your voice, though he still picked it up. “Pup, I’m not going away forever. You’ll still see me when I come back during breaks and when you leave for college, you can come over to Seoul, too!” he assures you, chuckling to himself as he continues, “Maybe our parents might even have us share an apartment so I can watch over you.”
Humming, you stared up into the sky, mesmerised by the stars that were scattered along the blanket of the night sky.
“___?”
“Yea…?”
“Remember what I taught you during our taekwondo sessions?”
“What about it?”
“Don’t forget how to use them, okay? Can’t have my little puppy all defenceless now, can I?”
you bit your lip as Seungcheol went on with his words, how he wished he could stay in Daegu longer so he could spend more time with you. How he wanted to explore the bigger city in Daegu with you (where he implies it being just two of you and without Aki who would often nag at him for having a bad taste in things).
“I’m gonna miss you…” you muttered quietly, not knowing how or what else you were supposed to say. You weren’t going to tell him about your feelings, that’s for sure. but, a part of you wished you could.
Who knows? Maybe you both could end up being something.
“It’s getting late, pup. you must be tired from the flight and settling in. Goodnight, ___.”
“Goodnight, Cheollie…”
When the call ended, you stared at the screen of your phone, a million thoughts racing through your head. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. perhaps you were overthinking the whole situation or something wrong was bound to happen. Whatever it was, you quietly got back into your room and crawled into bed.
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Something didn’t feel right.
It was the weekend Seungcheol was due to head to Seoul to have a look at the city and attend a few of the education fairs - and not once, had you gotten a single message from him.
In fact, in the days leading up to that weekend, he had been quiet too. His replies were either short, took too long or there weren’t any replies at all.
It makes you feel uneasy.
“Still no updates from loverboy?” Seungkwan asks, glancing over your shoulder and peeking at your phone, seeing the wall of texts about how the past few days have gone down for you. When you sulkingly shake your head, Seungkwan’s heart aches as he sees his favourite cousin down in the dumps.
“Hey,” he calls out in a gentle tone, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “Maybe he’s just caught up with those college things. Sooner or later he’s bound to update you, right? Besides, you should be busy having fun here in Jeju!”
Looking at your phone one last time, you shoved it back into your pocket and let Seungkwan drag you to a food street, saying how they added more delicious treats since the last time you visited.
By evening, there was still no news about or from Seungcheol. You’ve tried calling him multiple times, but they all end up going to voicemail. It was starting to affect you and your parents began to take notice, but decided to not question it for fear of triggering an episode. After dinner, you decided to call Aki in an attempt to get some form of comfort.
“I just don’t understand, Aki,” you told her, “I texted him, even called him but I got nothing! What if something bad happened to him?”
“Hey now, you’re probably overthinking things. He might just be sorting those uni documents out - you know how lengthy and taxing they can be. Maybe, he’s just tired and needs some rest!”
“You think so?”
“It’s just a guess, ___. whatever it is, I’m sure it isn’t anything serious.”
Oh, how you wished it really wasn’t anything serious.
When the time came to send your parents off at the airport for their trip to London, you had sent a message to Seungcheol and yet again, you got no response. One thing you came to realise in recent years, was how big of an over-thinker you are. It was something you hated and while your family, Seungcheol and Aki have done whatever they can to help you lessen your overthinking, that still doesn’t stop it from creeping up on you from time to time.
Seungkwan does his best to cheer you up. Bringing you to more food streets, a maze field, and even the seaside to take your mind off of Seungcheol but alas, it was as if Seungcheol had taken over your mind just like the virus in ‘The Last of Us’. One evening as you sat on the sand of the beach, staring off into the horizon, Seungkwan came up and sat next to you.
“I know this might not sound nice, but you can’t let something like Seungcheol not responding to you ruin your trip, ___. Sure, it’s upsetting having someone you’ve known for years and care for go ghost on you, but it’s kind of… pathetic, to let it ruin what could be a fun summer vacation.”
As much as those words hurt you, Seungkwan was right.
You hadn’t seen your family that lived in Jeju for years and now that you can, you’re letting something like your crush not responding to you ruin it. “Then, what should I do, Kwannie…?” you asked, wiping the tears that were starting to stream down your face, “I don’t wanna leave Jeju knowing I didn’t get to spend time with you and our grandparents…”
“How about you try calling him only once? If he doesn’t pick up, we’ll forget about it and move on, okay?”
You give it a thought, minutes passing by before you pick up your phone and dial Seungcheol’s number, placing it near your ear.
“We’re sorry, the number you have dialled cannot be reached.”
Seungkwan noticed your body shaking as you redialled the number, your breathing starting to grow shallow.
“We’re sorry, the number you have dialled cannot be reached.”
“___?” Seungkwan calls out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. When you began to cry, he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you cried your heart out. “Shhh, it’s okay, ____. it’s okay.”
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When you got back to Daegu, your heart dropped at the sight of the empty house next to yours. the entire house looked as if it were fully emptied (which it was) - the potted plants Mrs. Choi had displayed on the gates were nowhere to be seen, the shoes that were neatly arranged on the shoe rack weren’t there anymore, and the Choi’s family car wasn’t parked in its usual place.
“I guess they must’ve moved since Seungcheol is going to start college soon…” your mother tells your father who hums in response as he unloads the luggage from the trunk of the taxi. When she notices the sadness and tears in your eyes, she immediately starts comforting you.”Oh, sweetie… Does it upset you that much?”
“I… I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you sobbed out, “I couldn’t even see him one last time before he left…”
“Oh, princess…” your father coos after bidding the taxi driver goodbye, hugging you tight as your mother does the same, “I’m sure he feels sad for not being able to do the same, hmm?”
“Will… Will I… Will I be able to see him again?” you asked through hiccuped sobs, wiping your tears away as more kept spilling. Your mother nods, giving you a pat on the head. “I'm sure you will, honey.”
“He said he’s thinking of joining University of Pledis, right?” your father asked, a small smile on his face when you nod, “Then, you just need to study hard and get in there too! That way, you can finally be reunited with prince charming!”
despite your tears, you still manage to laugh at your dad’s tease. “Dad!”
“Ah-ah, don’t think we didn’t know about your little crush on Seungcheol, ___.” he responded, chuckling as he gave your arm an assuring squeeze.
“Whatever the future has in store, I’m sure the two of you will meet again.”
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taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)
@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwoo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @minhui896 @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp
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starry-eyes-love · 9 months ago
Text
Too Young to Die- Part 1
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Masterlist
Part 1 of 3 part Mini Series
Pairing |  Massage Therapist Joel Miller x F!Reader with Autoimmune disease, no outbreak, AU (I changed up his timeline a bit).
Summary | You were referred to Dr. Joel Miller, a massage specialist, to help manage your joint and muscle pain with autoimmune disease.  What you didn’t know was that Joel was an insanely attractive man, and that you’d be coming undone underneath him before your first appointment was even over with. 
Series Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut!
Age gap (he’s 47, she’s 29), language, Smut (with a capital S, watch out!!), daddy reference, f!(fingering), squirting, female reader has autoimmune disease, Joel is a massage therapist, slight reference of medical stuff, reader verbalizes anxiety with treatment, fluffy Joel, soft Joel, sexy Joel, terms of endearment, Joel asks her out on a date at the end.
A/N:  This one is completely self-indulgent and has been sitting in my draft folder since before Christmas. I have autoimmune disease, and treatment hasn’t worked much for me in many areas, so I know some of the troubles and struggles that the reader here has. Not everyone who has autoimmune disease may experience these symptoms, concerns, or struggles. This will be only a three part mini series. Very smutty with story building throughout. Enjoy! 
Word Count:   9.1K (we’re establishing a story here)
Fuck you were wrecked, seconds away from crashing through, or into, a brick wall with an orgasm, you thought.  This felt different though, so much different than what you’ve ever experienced before. “Joel, fuck, pressure, it’s a lot of pressure and I’m, fuck, I’m, I’m-” “Come f’me sweetheart. Come on baby, fucking soak my fingers.”
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Joel Miller sat in his office of his massage studio, looking over the referral paperwork that Dr. Samson, an autoimmune specialist, had sent him. A female patient was being referred to him for treatment of musculoskeletal pain and tenderness.
“Patient has reoccurring musculoskeletal tremors of unknown origin that come and go. Bilateral joint swelling seen in all extremities with positive inflammation noted in laboratory test results and X-rays. Arthritis and arthralgia positive in all joints. According to the patient, anti-inflammatory and arthritis medication only works slightly for pain. Recommended gentle massage therapy to see if joint lubrication and increased joint mobility is plausible, and if pain and muscle tremors will cease. Immediate referral requested.”
When Joel glanced at the bottom of the form a week ago, he had seen that the referral had come in three weeks prior. Now today, four weeks after the initial referral, he was finally able to see you for the first time.  When he had inquired with his secretary as to why it took so long before he saw you, she had said that there was a problem with your private healthcare insurance. Delaying treatment was never something that Joel Miller prided himself on. In fact, he was usually the opposite with trying to get his patients in for their first appointment within a week following their referral. Joel, having been a contractor in his previous life before becoming a massage therapist, knew the difficulties with treating joint and muscle pain. The goal was to never delay treatment as it would lead to widespread body inflammation. And once inflammation fully set into muscles and joints, it was harder for someone to find relief of their discomfort. 
You were Joel’s next scheduled patient to arrive in 20 minutes. As he waited for your arrival, he went back over your X-rays, lab test results, and dictation notes from your autoimmune specialist.  He had already reviewed it previously, but now he was refreshing himself on your in-depth history as he took some last minute notes of things that he wanted to ask you for this particular session. He had booked your first appointment with him to be about 2 hours, instead of the usual hour.  Joel always conducted very detailed exams with his patients. He was also very knowledgeable in understanding autoimmune patients, especially knowing that each person was unique. He wanted to tailor a program that was going to help you specifically.
Joel Miller wasn’t just your average run of the mill massage therapist, he had a specialty license in massage. He specialized in patients with pain, joint stiffness and swelling, inflammation, autoimmune disease, injuries, etc. People usually only came to him by doctor referral, which usually meant two things. First, he prided himself on taking his time to get to know his patients and how he could help ease their suffering and pain. And second, he typically charged more money for his services.  Most massage therapists would charge people a fee based on how long they performed their massage, Joel charged by the session.  The maximum time he would give a client with his hands was 1 hour, but he’d pencil in 1.5 hours of time with them just in case they felt pain.  Sometimes he’d have to stop and let patients breathe and relax for a minute before he started massaging their muscles again. Joel had a lot of training and education in the technique that was required, and many patients walked away from him stating that they felt a lot better.  By glancing at your history he didn’t think that you’d be a one time only patient.  He thinks that you would benefit from regular massages with him to help treat your inflammation and pain.
“Mr. Miller, your 10 AM appointment is here,” his secretary, Ashley, said.
“Thanks Ashley, I’ll be out in a minute. Please take her back to Room 5, and I’ll be along in a minute.” He replied, still studying the notes from your doctor and making notes for himself of the things that he wanted to focus on with you for your first appointment. 
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When you had arrived at the address for your first massage, you felt a sickly feeling in your stomach.  Your doctor had reassured you that Mr. Miller would be the person to help you feel better. But just like all the other promises that your primary care provider gave you, and how none of them worked the way that you hoped, you were very skeptical at this new treatment option. Nothing helped you feel better, and you were beyond frustrated. It took you a bit to convince yourself this morning to come here, telling yourself that Dr. Miller was an expert at this, and that you should give him a try. What could hurt, you thought. Worst case scenario, it didn't do anything, which sadly was the norm for you these days. 
For the last several years, your body had been poked and prodded more times than you would care to admit. Each time there was a promise of a better understanding or discovery of why this was all happening. But with each test, came more conflicting and confusing results, and you were exhausted from it all. You have been giving more blood for the sake of medical testing than what you’d think was truly normal. As ridiculous as it sounded, you felt that if Dracula was actually a real being, that he would be impressed with the amount of blood that you've donated for the sake of medical science.
With shaky hands, you got out of your car, locked it, and then entered the facility. When you entered you noticed that the space was calm. There was pale muted colors that covered the walls, colors that often helped people relax. But it did nothing for your nerves. You were shaking and not wanting to do any of this anymore. You felt like you had a huge lump in your throat, and that you couldn't fully swallow. Of all the things that you had to be afraid of in this world, you were the most afraid of medical treatment. Yet, that was the one thing that you were blessed with in having to always do. ‘Thanks body for betraying me with autoimmune,’ you thought.
As you walked up to the registration window, you found the secretary typing away on her keyboard while looking at her computer screen. You tried to settle your nerves before opening your mouth, but you felt like you were drowning in a pool of despair. Anxiety was getting the better of you again, and you felt like you wanted to run away and hide from everything. But where could you go when autoimmune always seemed to follow you, especially with the pain that came along with it.
“Um, excuse me,” you said meekly, after standing at the window for a brief moment. 
The secretary continued to type away, not looking at you nor acknowledging your presence. You went to clear your voice again when she abruptly stopped and said, “what can I do for you hun?”
“I- uh, I have an appointment, with um, with Dr. Miller I think,” you said softly.
“Oh, hun it's just Mr. Miller, or Joel for short. He doesn't like being called Doctor. He always says he has a doctorate degree in massage, not in medicine. Yet they're kinda the same thing if you ask me.” The secretary said, shaking her head with a slight laugh. You stood there in silence, looking at her as she continued to ramble on. You were trying to listen to what she was saying, but all you could feel was your heart racing in your chest at the prospect of once again meeting a new person with the promise of helping you.
After listening to the woman who you thought was named Ashley ramble on for 15 minutes, as that was the name that you noticed on her name tag, you were finally sitting down in the general waiting area. You were slowly trying to calm down and relax while staring outside and watching the birds hunt for bugs in the grass. You didn't know how long you were waiting there, just staring outside, before you heard Ashley call your name again to take you back to Room 5.  You didn’t know what to expect when you entered the room, but what you saw shocked you.
The room was softly lit, with soft music playing in the background, music that you liked. You also heard running waterfalls, sounds that came from the little fountains scattered all around the room. There was also a hint of cinnamon and slight vanilla aroma in the air, your favorite scents that would usually calm you. You tried racking your brain as to how, by chance, these scents and sounds were present when Ashley said, “it was on your intake survey. Your favorite classical music, scents, and sounds. Joel's very thorough, focusing on relaxation as much as muscle and joint relief.”
You stood there shocked. You thought those questions were just asked of people to try to ease the tension of how you were going to let a stranger put their hands on you. You had no idea that your answers would actually be taken seriously. Usually doctors, when they’ve asked those questions, never really did anything with the answers. Well, Dr. Miller was definitely different. It was at this moment that you were grateful that someone actually listened to you. You just hoped that he would continue with the same dedication while speaking with you, and not ignore what you said like everyone else seemed to do. You were frustrated with the medical field.  You’d tell them something hurt, or something was happening and they only looked at your lab tests and X-rays and made decisions based on that, never actually listening to what you were truly telling them.  You had only been in the room for maybe 5 minutes when you heard a gentle knock on the door, and the entrance of who you only could have suggested was Dr. Miller.
“Good day, I'm Dr. Miller but you can call me Joel.” He said while holding out his hand for you to shake. You shook his hand, and as you did, you felt how rough his hands were. They were calloused and strong, very sturdy hands. Not something that you'd expect to see from a massage therapist. This intrigued you, as you've always loved a man with rough hands. 
After you introduced yourself, Joel walked over to the small desk in the room and sat down on the rolling stool. A typical doctor stool that you’ve seen countless times in exam rooms. He grabbed a piece of paper and then sat there for a moment writing a few notes, things that you thought were probably dealing with your medical file. After a moment he finally looked up at you and then asked with a slight Southern drawl, “How are y’feeling today?”
“I- I’m ok” you said meekly as you slowly looked over Joel. Joel was a gorgeous man, clearly in his later 40s with chocolate brown curly hair. He had a mustache and a slight beard by his jaw, one that had a slight sprinkling of gray in it. He also had glasses on his face with gentle eyes behind the glasses, ones that you could easily get lost in.  He was wearing a simple white t-shirt, framing his broad shoulders perfectly. He had a slight tan on his arms, and hands that once again you couldn't wait to touch you. By looking at him, you didn’t think that massage was the only thing that Joel has done in his life. Something told you that he had spent many years doing hard work with his hands. As you continued your exploration, you then noticed that he was wearing a nice pair of black pants that hugged his hips perfectly. As you continued, you saw that Dr. Miller was definitely someone who was a decent sized man in the bedroom, seeing the soft bulge in his pants as he sat down with his legs slightly spread on the stool by the desk.  You couldn’t help yourself but you stared at his package, wondering what it’d look like outside of the confines of his pants, and what it would feel like fully aroused inside of you. The longer you stared, the more you felt heat rise up the back of your neck. When you noticed the awkward moment of him looking at you, clearly having asked you a question that you didn't hear, you shook your head slightly, looking down fully at the floor while saying “sorry” out loud.
“It's ok darlin',” he said, giving you a small little smirk at the fact that he caught you checking him out.  You were hoping that he didn’t see what you were checking out the longest though.  You didn’t want to explain to your massage therapist that you were fantasizing about his package, and what types of moans or grunts he’d make while fucking your brains out. 
Joel continued to talk to you, explaining why you were here, and how his services could help you.  You were only half listening to him, embarrassed about how you had behaved previously. Joel was devilishly handsome, the type of guy that you were into. You were, however, internally scolding yourself at the importance of having proper social etiquette, and not eye fucking your massage therapist, which is what you were doing every time you looked at him.
As Joel continued to talk with you, he slowly moved around the room, grabbing different things off from the shelves. He instantly noticed your meek and shy attitude, even though he had caught you checking him out earlier. He had to admit, you were very cute, but Joel was a professional. He couldn’t allow himself the joys of thinking about you in a different sort of way.  Nevermind, that if he wasn’t your massage therapist, he would definitely want to explore those other possibilities with you. What he did notice though was how you turned inward at the mentions of pain, autoimmune disease, and how your doctor said you didn’t have much abilities to do activities that your peers could do.  You were 29, and he knew what the world did to 29 year olds who didn’t, or couldn’t, do the same things that their peers could. The world would ignore you. Joel, himself, remembered those days when he was 29 and worked construction when Sarah and Ellie, his daughters, were younger. All his friends went out partying after work, when he went home and raised a 10 year old and a 2 year old all on his own, Sarah and Ellie’s mom were already out of the picture. Joel was lost in his own head, remembering those earlier days, when all of a sudden he heard you speak up in an irritated tone.
“Mr. Miller, no disrespect, but I don’t think you understand what it’s like to not be able to do things that most 29 year olds can do.” You didn’t think he understood. So once again you found yourself trying to explain to a medical professional how much autoimmune has negatively impacted your life at such a young age, and how agitated you were at the fact that no one seemed to help you or listen to you. Joel, being the attentive man that he was, sat across from you on the stool and listened to every word that you had said.
Once you were finished, Joel took a deep inhale, then followed by a long exhale and then said “I am so sorry that people haven’t listened to you, or have taken you seriously about your concerns with your body. You’re right, I don’t know what it's like f’ya as I’m not you. But, I do know what it’s like to not be able to do everything a 29 year old can do. I may not have autoimmune, but I had different responsibilities that didn’t allow me the joys of doing everything that I wanted, including the joys of being with a beautiful woman like yourself at that age. That’s why I want to help you.” 
As soon as Joel called you beautiful, he saw your reaction. You started to blush on your cheeks from the compliment. You felt flattered by the older man that was in front of you. Meanwhile, Joel internally scolded himself at how his statement wasn't proper patient-doctor etiquette. Joel had vowed to himself that he wouldn't cross that line again, especially with you, no matter how drop dead gorgeous he thought you were.
Joel began to run a few tests with you, checking your reflexes and testing your mobility. You didn’t say anything else to him after his statement. You felt embarrassed by your actions and assumptions that he didn't care or understand, when you could clearly see that he did. The longer you looked at him, the more you could see that he was someone who truly did care about helping others. You silently wondered if his treatment would actually help.
“Dr. Miller?” you asked, wanting to scratch the itch of your curiosity in understanding the treatment that he was suggesting.
“Joel” he said as he pushed on your shoulder blades. When you winced he said “are you tender here?” as he pushed on the same spot again, but this time with a little less force.
“Yeah. I’m tender there, and everywhere,” you said with a hiss as he moved his hand down to your biceps.  “It’s tender inside every joint, and sometimes muscles. Winter’s in Minnesota aren’t too nice for people like me,” you said, head hanging low as a tear slipped down your cheeks.  
You felt Joel stop testing your joints and muscles, hands still on your arms when he placed his finger gently under your chin, slightly tilting your head up so you could look him in the eyes. After a moment he said, “Well, we’ll try to rectify that now won’t we. Massage is more than just relaxin’, it helps a lot of people in ways that can-”
“Can it cure me?” you said, interrupting him, with wide eyes. “Cause if it can cure me, I’ll do anything. But don’t tell me that it’ll work miracles. Don't get my hopes up and then have it fail. I-I can’t take it anymore with all of the disappointment” you said, closing your eyes to take a steadying breath as tears gathered at your waterline.  It has been a very long and exhausting road these past three years with your autoimmune journey. You found out early on that your body couldn’t tolerate medication, and nothing else seemed to work. 
“I can’t promise that it’ll do miracles by curin’ ya, but I can promise that I’ll try my best to make you feel better. How’s that?” Joel said with a tender voice, trying to soothe your emotional discomfort of years of failed treatments. Joel remembered reading the last line of your referral by Dr. Samson which had stated;
“No treatments have been successful. Patient has voiced wanting to stop trying autoimmune treatments, stating that she didn’t feel like it was working. Patient was informed that if she decided to fully stop taking immunosuppressant medications, that the end result would be major organ damage that could lead to death. Patient agreed to try one more treatment for pain, stating that if the treatment didn’t work, then she’d stop autoimmune treatments altogether and ‘let whatever happens, happen’.” 
‘Fuck,’ Joel had thought when he first read that last line in your medical file. Someone giving up, especially at such a young age, didn't sit well with him. Being 29, your entire world was still in front of you.  You had a lot more years and possibilities of life in front of you. Giving up wasn't something that Joel did, and the fact that you had voiced wanting to stop treatments to your doctor bothered him immensely. Truly, it wasn't necessarily the fact that you had wanted to stop treatments that upset him. It was your willingness to allow death to potentially consume you that truly got to him. You were too young to die.
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20 minutes later, you were lying on your stomach with a sheet covering your lower half. You were completely naked, scolding yourself internally that you didn’t wear underware today with your pants. Joel was slowly massaging your back, trying to work out the knots that he felt in your muscles.  As his hands continued to work out the knots and tension, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief. His touch was not only skilled, but carried a reassurance that echoed through your body. You felt safe with him, safe in a way that you haven’t for a long time.  You felt like if you were near him, that he’d take all the bad in the world away for you. And if you were being honest, this comfort was something that you haven't felt in a very long time from anyone.
"You're doing great, darlin’," Joel whispered, sensing your vulnerability and turmoil you had been feeling. Joel could tell that you were working through something major in your head, just like most of his patients did. Most of the time he focused on trying to distract people from their internal thoughts, giving them a break when they were here.  But there was something about the silence between the two of you right now that he felt like you desperately needed.  Every time he’d open his mouth to ask you a question, he’d feel you tense up, and that was the last thing he wanted you to do.  So he slowly worked your sore muscles and joints, giving them the tenderness and affection that they needed, while allowing you to stay seated in silence. 
Throughout the session, Joel maintained an empathetic connection with you. He explained each technique when he’d switch it up, providing you with the most gentle sense of comfort. He’d tell you what he was going to do, if he moved down your body or up, giving you moments to breathe when he felt like it was too much. But most of all, he gave you that warmth and unawkward silence that you craved. He wanted you to just live and feel, to just be in the moment with him.
As Joel's tender touch continued, you felt a warmth spread throughout your body, slightly dissipating the pain that had lingered there for so long. His words became a comforting melody, echoing a promise to you of relief. “You’re doing so good f’me, gentle breaths in and out, there y’go.” He said, encouraging you to stay centered and remain in the moment. That was the key in pain relief, staying grounded and living within the moment. When we just allow our body to feel, and not force anything, we can find peace and calmness. These feelings of peace and calmness are what leads us to having pain relief.
As Joel moved down to your lower back, you let out a hiss in pain, followed by an “ouch that hurts.” 
“What hurts darlin’?” Joel said, slowing his deep strokes on your lower back, right above your tailbone area.  He doesn’t remember reading in your file that you had lower back pain, so this was something new that caught him a little off guard.
“Right there, low” you said, hissing again as he pressed his finger into the lower part of your back, on your left side, by your hip.
After you hissed a second time, Joel immediately stopped and walked around to the other side of the massage table. He gently pressed on your lower back and hip joint on the other side, saying, “how ‘bout over here, does this hurt?”
“No, not as bad,” you said. “It's my left side, god that hurts.” You said, as he reached over and lightly pressed on your left side once again.
“Ok, let’s try somethin’,'' Joel said, moving completely over to your left side now.  “I’m gonna hold up the blanket, where you still are covered, and I want you to flip completely on your back, okay?  I wanna see if your pain continues in a different position.”
You nodded your head and then gently felt the blankets pull off from you. Joel was completely looking away from you, giving you privacy as you turned to lay on your back instead of your stomach.  When you finally settled, you told him that you were ready. He then informed you that he was only going to uncover your left leg, to the mid thigh region.  As he did, he explained how he was going to test your leg's range of motion to see if it was your hip joint that had caused you pain. 
With only doing simple joint motions with your leg, Joel noticed that nothing was painful.  When he bent your knee, pointing your knee outwards towards the left, followed by gently lifting your leg higher, to open up your pelvis more, he didn’t see any outward signs of pain from you. 
“If I do this, does it hurt?” He said, placing a little weight on your leg.
As soon as your knee got about level with your pelvis you hissed again. Joel tried pushing down on your pelvic joint to determine where it hurt, but all you did was whimper.  The pain wasn’t coming from your joint, it was coming from someplace else deep inside of you.  When he returned your leg back down he said “I’m sorry darlin’, I can’t determine where your pain is coming from. Have you had it-”
“Just forget about it” you said, turning your head to the opposite side, closing your eyes as you felt the tears start to stream down your face.
“Hey, none of that, '' Joel said, gently turning your chin towards him so he could see your face in its entirety. “If somethin’ is hurting ya, I wanna hear about it. Help me out, where does it hurt?” When you didn’t respond right away he said, “does it hurt here” as he gently pressed on your hip bone. He watched you shake your head no.  “How about here?” He asked, moving slightly inward, towards the inside of your pelvic bone.
With a shaky breath you said, “no, but it hurts straight down, but lower and inward more.”
“Here” he said, moving down about halfway where your hip joint was, towards the inside of your pelvis.  You let out another shaky breath, closing your eyes as tears fell more from your cheeks, shaking your head no to him.  
It took Joel a second to figure it out. But when he did, he finally understood why you were crying. You were embarrassed about what was happening inside of your body. When he moved his hand down towards the lower left side quadrant of your abdomen, and gently pushed where your ovaries were, he asked, “does it hurt here darlin’?”  As soon as he applied a little bit of pressure to your left ovary area, you let out a stuttered breath, nodding your head up and down.
Joel flattened his hand on your tummy, where the sensation was, knowing what the culprit was. You were probably mid cycle and ovulating with an ovarian cyst. He didn’t remember you being pregnant, but he wanted to make sure that it wasn't an ectopic pregnancy before he ruled it as an ovarian problem.
“If I press over here, does it hurt?” Joel said, pressing on the other side in the lower abdomen. You had your eyes closed, tears lightly falling, shaking your head no.
“Ok, ok, darlin’. I know, I know. Deep breaths for me though, ok?” he said, as he watched tears stream down your face. He gave you a moment to collect yourself, before he asked his next question. 
“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” He said, slowly stroking your tummy where a baby would be laying. He knew he shouldn’t, but somehow imagining you having a swollen tummy where a baby would lay was giving him fantasies that he didn’t even know existed. 
You let out a sarcastic laugh, saying, “no, it’s not that.”
Puzzled, Joel looked at you and said, “y’know, if an ectopic pregnancy happened, y’still could have a normal period. If there’s any chance that you could be pregnant, like having unprotected sex, or even if the condom broke, you probably should-”
“Joel, I haven’t had sex in 3 years,” you said, barely above a whisper. When you noticed the shocked look on his face you turned your head away from him adding, “guys really don’t want to have sex with a woman like me.”
“What’d y’mean, a woman like you?” He said, furrowing his brows at your odd phrasing. 
“A woman who’s sick with autoimmune, Joel.” You said, closing your eyes and trying to pull back the tears that were threatening to fall again. You didn't want to have this conversation, and you sure as hell didn't want to admit how the act of even having orgasms were difficult for you. There were just some autoimmune embarrassments that you wanted to keep to yourself, no matter how much it shattered your soul inside. You didn't feel like a beautiful, young, sexy, attractive woman that you knew all the other single 29 year old ladies felt. You felt like you couldn’t offer anything to the male race that wasn't medical tests, sickness, and heartache combined.
Immediately Joel felt irritation and anger at your careless comment of how men wouldn't find you attractive or want to be with you. Without dwelling on it, Joel did the one thing that he knew he shouldn't, he opened his mouth to speak more on the issue. He hoped he could get you to understand that not all men were like this, that he sure as hell wasn't like this.
“Darlin’, boys, not real men, are like that. A real man wouldn’t allow sickness to stop him from wantin’ a beautiful woman like yourself. A real man would enjoy making you feel good.  Real men, honey, not boys.” 
Once he said it, Joel knew that he shouldn’t have opened his mouth, especially with the look that you were giving him. You looked back at him, shocked, and taken aback by his forward statement. But he couldn’t just stand there and listen to you accuse men, like him, of not caring. He would do anything to be with a beautiful woman like yourself, whether or not you were sick with a permanent illness.
After your head caught up with Joel's statement on men, you just shook your head. You then gave him a genuine, honest to god, belly laugh. “Yeah, well, Mr. Miller, show me where a real man is who wouldn’t care about all of that.  Tell me who he is, because honestly, I haven’t found one single guy out there who’d be willing to have a real relationship with me because of this illness. And for the record, I can’t even get a guy to fuck me with no strings attached either. Not that I’d want that, cause I don’t do the casual sex thing, but still, you get it.” You said, snapping right back at him. 
It was Joel's turn this time to look shocked. He thought to himself, why the hell has no one treated you right? He could see that you were exhausted with your own body and with your own life. He could tell that you were exhausted at the reminder of what you didn't have, of what your autoimmune disease had taken from you. He wondered if you ever truly tried, or if you just gave up right away. The longer he looked at you, the more he realized that you had tried, but obviously you weren't successful.
As you sat there partially propped up onto your forearms, you felt the tears well up into your eyes once again as you watched Joel look at you. You were embarrassed at what you had said. At admitting how easy it was for everyone else in the world to have relationships, everyone except you. Hell your own family even disowned you after your diagnosis stating that it was “too hard for them to handle.” So you've been doing this on your own, all alone, for the past 3 years. Exhausted didn't even come close to describing the way that you felt. 
As you gently laid back down at this realization of loneliness once again, silently scolding yourself for opening your mouth, you accidentally hit the back of your head on the table, muttering “shit” under your breath. After a moment, you heard Joel let out another long sigh and then he gently grabbed your chin and said, “hey, look at me.”
When you looked into Joel’s eyes, he was staring back at you with concern and tenderness lacing his features. Joel saw your frustration and array of emotions, and he felt like it was important for him to take away all those insecurities by telling you that he wasn't like all those other boys you were with. With a slight smile, he gently cupped your cheek and said, “darlin’, a real man, like me, doesn’t fucking care if you’re sick or not. Men, like me honey, would take care of you regardless of the problems that you have. And honestly, it’s a damn shame that no one has ever taken their time with you, making sure your needs were met. If I was with you, I'd make damn sure you were enjoying it the entire time.” 
Joel then removed his hand and placed both hands on the side of the massage table, stepping back and exhaling through his mouth as he looked down at the ground.  He knew he needed to end this session right now. He's already stepped over far too many lines, and if he didn't watch it, he'd cross an even bigger one of showing you how a real man gave a beautiful woman pleasure.
You laid there watching the turmoil unfold on Joel's face. He wouldn't look up at you, kept staring down at the floor, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet periodically.  He had checked his watch several times, attempted to clear his throat once, and had quickly glanced out the window. You knew those signs, he was trying to find a nice way to end the session or end the conversation. The more you watched him, the more upset you got. 
After Joel stood there staring outside for a while, he finally cleared his throat again. “I- uh, I think Dr. Anderson can probably help you better, she’s very good with this type of stuff,” he said, waving his arm at you, but not looking at you. 
When he straightened up to walk away you closed your eyes and said in a soft voice, “Please, please, help me.” You wanted to keep your voice steady, but you found that it slightly cracked at the end, which made you internally scold yourself. You weren't a weak person by nature, you couldn't afford to be with a disease that was slowly destroying your organs and killing you from the inside out. But somehow you felt like you were weak, like you were just a shell of the person that you once were. At first, when you asked for his help, you didn't know what exactly you were asking for. But as the seconds ticked by, with him not answering, you realized that you were pleading for him to see you.
Without looking at you, Joel asked in a gentle tone, “what do y’need help with?” When he turned back around towards you, his eyes were closed, and he was taking several steadying breaths. He was trying to calm his nerves and to silence the war that was going on in his mind. His mind was screaming at him, reminding him that this was inappropriate patient-doctor conversation or relations. He knew he needed to stop. So it shocked him to hear himself say a little louder, “Darlin’, what do you need help with?”
You just stared up at him, searching his face to see if what you wanted to voice was okay for you to do. You wanted him, as a man, to find you attractive and to touch you. But how could you ask him to go against all of his code of ethics as a medical provider just to touch you like a husband would touch a wife, desperately and passionately.  You didn’t even know if he was married, or even in a relationship with someone else. 
As Joel opened his eyes, he looked down at you, and it was then that he knew what you wanted. You were looking at him the same way his ex-wife used to look at him from time to time. When she’d plead with him to fuck her, to silence all her insecurities in her head. He hasn't seen a woman look at him like that for almost 20 years, and it did something to him. It made his resolve crumble instantly where he said ‘fuck it' in his own head, and he gave in to his primal instinct of helping you as a man, not as your doctor.
“Baby, come on. I ain’t gonna ask y’again.  What is it that you need, honey? Tell me, and I'll do it.”
“Joel, please,” was all you could say, begging him with your eyes, trying to tell him what you wanted.
“No, now, come on. Y'gotta use your words for me. Be a good girl and tell Daddy what he can do to help you and make you feel better.”
As soon as Joel had said the word daddy, he instantly scolded himself. But when he saw your eyes glaze over with arousal at the name, he knew what you wanted. You lightly whimpered and started squeezing your thighs tight together. 
Joel felt dizzy for a moment as blood rushed fast to his cock at your whimper, his cock hardening to the point of being painful. But this wasn't about him. This was about you, about showing you that a real man, like him, could give you affection and attention like you so desperately needed. 
He walked towards you, gently placing his hand onto your thigh, lightly stroking it. He was trying to center you and help you communicate with him in what you wanted and needed. He knew all of this was wrong, but he couldn't help himself, especially when you begged him to touch you.
“Joel, please, touch me,” you said, while grabbing his hand and guiding it to below the blanket to where you were practically throbbing. 
“F-fuck,” Joel slightly moaned, closing his eyes at the feeling of you not wearing any underwear as he touched your slick velvet folds underneath the blanket with his hand. Your lips were slightly swollen, aroused, and desperately needing attention. You were making a mess on his table, slick pouring out of you from your needy little hole. You wanted Joel to help soothe the ache deep within you, to take your pain away.
Joel slowly moved his finger down to your center. Feeling your pussy spasm and clench around nothing. He rested his finger at your opening, not pushing his finger inside of you just yet, but slowly stroking it with feather-like touches. “Baby, we shouldn’t do this” he said, still slowly circling your opening, and not stopping or pushing his finger in. He needed to hear your verbal confession that you wanted this, that you wanted him. As Joel felt your hole clench a second time at nothing, he said, “baby, please, say somethin’.”
You moaned slightly while opening your hips up to allow him better access to you. “More” was the only audible thing that you could say at the moment. And that's when Joel’s resolve fully crumbled, and he pushed two fingers knuckle deep inside of you, stretching you perfectly around him.
“Fuck baby, that's tight. Ya squeezing my fingers in a goddamn vice.” He said, growling low, followed by a soft grunt.
You willed yourself to relax, to allow Joel in more. To allow him to get deeper within you, to where you knew that you needed him. To say his fingers were a stretch was an understatement. His fingers were longer and thicker than what you were used to. It was a comfortable stretch, but almost borderline on being painful. You've never been stretched out this much with just fingers alone. If you had to guess by his slow movements he was doing right now, you thought that Joel was a very experienced man, especially when he curled his fingers and found that spot deep within you that you've never found before. As soon as he hit it, your eyes rolled back in your head and you softly moaned “fuuuck.”
“There she is, right there huh, baby?” He said, angling his hand a bit more to get a little deeper as he started to stroke your g-spot with those perfected come hither movements. 
Joel was good at three things: First, he was a very hard worker. He had the perfect street smarts to own and operate two successful businesses in his lifetime. Second, he was an amazing father. Always listening and being there for his girls. And finally, he was an attentive lover. He listened, and found what worked for every woman that he’s ever been with. He knew how to fuck a woman just right, and how to bring her the most and best pleasure.  And that was something that he made sure you understood at the moment with his fingers.
As Joel continued to work his magic with his fingers, pushing them a little deeper inside of you, and picking up the pace in stroking you, you felt your walls spasm more. You let out a low moan, breathing starting to become erratic as the sensation of pleasure took over your body. You were right, you obviously hadn't had a good fuck for a long time, especially considering that you were not far from coming undone on just his fingers alone with no clit stimulation whatsoever. And if you could describe the feeling that you were feeling right now with his fingers moving inside of you, you would describe it as being ‘fucking fantastic.’
Joel found himself matching your small moan with a groan of his own, especially when he looked down and noticed your pussy was dripping all over him. He slowly started withdrawing his fingers, giving you time to adjust, before pushing them back in. It was obscene, the wet squelching noises that your beautiful cunt was making for him. You were biting your lip, eyes casted away from him. He gently grabbed your chin with his other hand, turning you towards him while saying “no darlin’, eyes right here. Ya keep ‘em on me, ok?” He said, as he slowly kept pushing his fingers in and out of you. He kept up the slow pace for a bit, working you up, not wanting to fully tip you over the edge just yet. He knew that you needed this, that you needed to enjoy the experience.
“Joel, it feels- fuck, it feels, it feels,” you were at a loss for words at the moment. You were struggling to keep your eyes on him right now, fighting them from wanting to roll back into your head at the sensation of pleasure.
“I know baby. Fuck, just listen to her, she needs this huh? Your pussy needs this, doesn’t she? This. Nice. Slow. Finger. Fuck, huh?” He said, slowing down more and thrusting harder with his fingers at every word he said, drawing out your pleasure more. The longer he fucked you slow with his fingers, the more your pussy gripped him hard, sucking him in, not wanting him to leave.  You were panting, starting to squirm, getting lost in the pleasure.  Joel wanted to tease you a little longer, but he figured you weren’t used to this kind of play.  Something he intended to do next time he had you alone, preferably in his bed with you begging for his cock. 
When Joel saw you start to match his thrusts with your own, he knew it was time for him to tip you over the edge. So Joel really started to finger fuck you you now, the way that he knew women liked. When he did that, you cried out at the stimulation and surprise of his actions.
“Shhh baby, it's alright,” he said, cooing at you to quiet you down. “Now, darlin’, you’re gonna be a good girl and come all over these fingers, ok? Then you're getting a full refund today. I don't charge money to finger fuck my clients.”
You nodded your head, trying to keep your eyes open as Joel massaged the inside of your velvety warm walls, getting closer to the edge.  Your toes were starting to curl, breathing was very erratic. You were getting very close to cumming.
“And lastly sweetheart,” he said, putting pressure down on your lower abdomen, and curling his fingers in a way that he knew would make your vision go blurry, while building a firm pressure sensation inside of your abdomen. “You must communicate with me with your words when something doesn't feel good, or if you want me to do something differently. You know your body better than me honey. I don't, so help me make you feel good. Okay?”
Fuck you were wrecked, seconds away from crashing through, or into, a brick wall with an orgasm, you thought.  This felt different though, so much different than what you’ve ever experienced before. “Joel, fuck, pressure, it’s a lot of pressure and I’m, fuck, I’m, I’m-”
“Come f’me sweetheart. Come on baby, fucking soak my fingers” Joel growled in your ear as the rubberband inside of you snapped hard. When it did, your cunt seized around his fingers as you felt the gush of fluid come out of you, he made you squirt for the first time. Your vision went white, ears ringing, legs shaking from the intensity of it all.  You’ve never come so hard ever in your life, and you couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips around Joel’s hand that was now covering your mouth. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, whispering “good fucking girl” with a strained voice as he watched you come undone. His own pupils were blown wide, eyes impossibly dark with lust, wanting nothing more than to bury his cock deep inside of you, to feel you spasm around him hard like this.  But that would have to happen at a later time.  Today was about you, about giving you something that you needed, attention from a man.  You were a beautiful woman, and you deserved to have a man take care of you in this way, and other ways too, even if you did have autoimmune disease. 
Joel continued to slowly work you through your high, pumping his fingers gently in and out of you. When you finally came back to Earth, he removed his soaked fingers from your cunt and then he slammed his lips hard against your mouth, kissing you fervently. You licked the seam of his lips, asking for access into his mouth, which he quickly granted. You two were wrestling your tongues together, each seeking dominance over the other. Joel has never been kissed like this, with so much passion that he hated pulling away from you mere moments later, gasping for breath as his heart raced out of control in his chest. 
“Fuck woman, no one’s ever kissed me like that,” he said, gasping for breath. Joel placed his forehead gently against yours, eyes closed, breathing you in as his heart rate slowed in his chest.
“Do you want me to take care of you?” you asked, laying your hand gently on his crotch, feeling him buck slightly into your touch beneath you.
“No baby, I wanna do this right, take ya out first, if y’don’t mind.”
“You don't have to if you don't want to, I mean-”
Joel snapped open his eyes and stood up looking at you, furrowing his brows. He then shook his head and said “don't”, and walked over to the sink in the corner of the room to wash his hands. You sat up, chewing on your lip, overthinking things once again. After a moment of silence you heard him speak when he shut the water off.
“I'm not some 20 year old punk ass boy who only cares about getting his own rocks off, darlin'. I don't do that sort of thing. Now, if you don't want to have dinner with me, then that's fine. But I'd really like to take y’out.”
“Like a date?” You asked, looking into his eyes hopeful.
“Yes baby, like a date.” He said, standing in front of you, holding a robe up for you to take to cover your naked body up.
“Yeah, but what happens when I- when we- when it's done? Or what happens if I can't because of this- because of autoimmune?” you say, motioning your hand up and down at your body. 
Joel took a big breath in, and then slowly let it out through his nose. He then cupped your face with both hands and said, “ok, I'm gonna stop you right there. First, I don't fuck on the first date, ok, so don't worry your pretty lil’ head about it. And second, I don't give a damn if we have to reschedule. I understand you have autoimmune disease, remember I've read your file.” Joel immediately winced at that reminder, of how he has crossed every line in the sand with his actions. He didn't know how he was going to explain to Dr. Samson that his treatment wouldn't work with you and that he was going to refer you to Dr. Anderson. It was going to cost him big time, he knew that. Dr. Linda Anderson wouldn't just drop it, she'd want an explanation. But Joel couldn't think about that right now, he'd deal with it and her later.
“But Joel it's-”
“Do you not want to go out to dinner with me?” He asked, the color draining from him face. Did he read you wrong? Were you just looking for a quick orgasm and nothing more? He rubbed his neck in embarrassment, thinking he completely fucked up at your signals once again. “You-uh, you don't have to say yes if you don't want to. I mean, if I read you wrong you can- uh, no pressure to say no.” He was internally scolding himself at this entire situation, of how much he's fucked up today. His ex-wife was right, he thought, he definitely doesn’t understand what women need nor want. Proof was here, right in front of him, with your reluctance to say yes to just dinner. 
Joel turned to walk out, mumbling “I'll give you some privacy to get dressed. I'll tell Ashley to give you a refund when I see her tomorrow, don’t worry, she’s already left for the day. And you can just forget about today if you want, if I made you feel uncomfortable. I’ll sorry, I just-”
“Stop, please,” you said, grabbing his arm. “Don't leave. Everyone does, everyone leaves me. I-I want you to stay with me right now, please.” 
Joel stopped and looked at you, seeing the gears in your head turning. After a moment he said, “please honey, ya gotta tell me what you're thinking. I can't-”
“I want to go out on a date with you Joel, it's just, don't have high expectations or hopes for me, ok? Men do, and then as they get to know me they- they get mad when I don't meet something that they wanted. I- this- it’s hard ok? It’s hard ‘cause I have a gorgeous man in front of me that I've been attracted to since the moment I saw him, and all I want is for him to see me. To really see me. And I- I don’t wanna fuck that all up where you hate me, or think I’m a failure and I- I should just really stop talking.” You said, laughing at yourself and blushing at the fact that you just spilled all of your insecurities in the air to a stranger. A very hot stranger, but a stranger nevertheless.
“Honey,” he said, grabbing your hand softly. “I want all that too and, if I'm being honest, I'm a little scared of a date too as it's been a long time since I've done this. The whole dating thing, it hasn’t been a priority of mine for a while. But I wanna do it f’you, with you. We can take it slow, we can figure it out together, ok? How does that sound?” Joel then leaned in and gave you a soft, delicate kiss on your lips, one that immediately calmed your nerves. 
“Ok, yes. Dinner would be great,” you said, a tad breathless after Joel pulled away from kissing you. You took a moment to compose yourself, to will the butterflies to calm down in your tummy at the thought of getting a chance to have a date with this man.
Joel watched the blush rise up in your cheeks, and if he was being honest, it flattered the hell out of him.  That a simple gentle kiss could get you all hot and bothered, where you were blushing for him. “Ok, good,” he said, smiling. “How about I pick you up around 6pm this Saturday?”
You nodded your head, and noticed that Joel furrowed his brows at the lack of your speaking to him again.  You quickly said, “Saturday would be perfect.” 
Joel stood there for a moment, glancing over your features, looking at you intently, making sure that you in fact truly wanted this.  Once he found what he was looking for, he stepped back and gave you a small smirk. 
“Ok, darlin’. Now for life's biggest, and most important question. What toppings do y’like on your Pizza?”  Joel decided to take you to his favorite pizza place on Saturday.  When he saw you smile, he knew that he picked a good choice.
“Well Miller,” you said, while giving him your best playful smirk. “You’re just going to have to take me out to find out.”
End of Part 1
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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year ago
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hello, can i request
the reader is getting frustrated because she is having trouble coming, so she tries to fake it. Morpheus figures out what she's trying to do because he knows how her pussy feels when she's tight around him, so he gets mad and stops, leaving her wanting for the next few days....then when he finally gives in , is she sharpened all night as punishment? I hope this makes some kind of sense.
Good Thing
Dream of the Endless x Reader
Summary: Lord Morpheus does not appreciate you faking it and your sweet dream turns into a nightmare.
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: fem!reader, petty!dream, MDNI, smut (pwp, free use, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, light sadism, vaginal penetration, edging, temperature play, cunninglingus), typos, etc.
A/N: this has been in my drafts for ages T_T me so sorry. but ya know nonnie, what was so wild, when you sent this i was reading an aemond targaryen fic with he exact same prompt i was sent into orbit Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9
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I squirm as I am hoisted on his lap. I feel Dream's hot breath on my neck. My flesh was spilling between his fingers as he kneaded them. My hands were shaking as they latched around his neck.
He felt good. He felt so good-- he really did. But I was exhausted.
Dream brushes his nose against me, palms by the curve of my hips as he maneuvered me in sync with his movements. He snapped into me with a need that could not be quelled. His thighs and abdomen were hot and sticky with my slick. My whole body was burning with sweat and remnants of the multiple orgasms he's left me, he's left in me. He mutters against my ear, his deep voice making my shaky one even more unstable, "one more, my love."
One more.
But see, he's been saying this for hours.
And when I say hours, I mean there's no sense of time in the Dreaming, and he's taken fuck me to oblivion way to fuckin' seriously. And yet -
"I assure you," he crooned as he clutched the back of my head when it got too heavy for me to keep up, "my sister will not touch you. I will not let her take what's mine. She will not come near you," he sucks on my skin, "not when I have you in such a servile state."
Fuck me.
And he did.
And he was.
Still is.
My head rested on his shoulder. My body jolted with each of his thrusts. I felt my eyes water all over again, and now even my mouth was crying. I dribble on his skin as I whine, "D-Dream."
"Shhh," he kisses my head, "let me relax," he holds me firm in my place, "we have an arrangement, don't we? You want me to do this, don't you?"
I whimper when his thumb rubs on my oversensitive nub, "p-please-"
"I know," he tuts, "I know," he purrs, claiming my mouth with his, "just one more. Can you not give your beloved king one more sweet orgasm? Don't you want me to relax, darling? You said you'd let me do anything I want-"
"Dream-"
He sits up straighter, "and I want to feel you take pleasure in my love making."
A tired cry leaves my mouth.
"I need you to feel how much I love you, my jewel," he licks my neck and nips on my skin, "one more time."
"B-but you've been s-saying that-- for hours," I feel tears streak my cheeks.
He nods and licks my tears, "I swear to you, my love," his fingers dig into my flesh, "one last rupture is all I will ask of you now."
"Promise?" I blurt desperately.
Dream peppers kisses on my neck, "you have my word."
And fair enough, fair enough, he did promise me relief after. The words of an Endless were not fickle and I should have trusted in him. I mean I did! I do! But my mortal body could only take so much and so, I did what I had to do.
I faked it.
I faked it and immediately he stopped.
Thank. Goodness.
At least... it was a thank goodness in that moment.
I caught my breath as I melted like putty on him, allowing my body to bathe in its exhaustion though I did not feel pleasure from the squirming show I just put on.
Dream's hold on me relaxes. His hands come to my thighs as he adjusted me on him.
"T-thank you," I mutter.
"What was that?"
I heave as I look at him, "I said t-"
"You did not finish," he cuts, one hand coming to my back to keep me in place as he pulled back to scowl at me.
My silence proved me guilty. My stutter decided my sentence.
Dream's nostril flare and his jaw hardens, "hmmm." He reaches out for my face and pushes back my sweat soaked hair, "did you think I would not realize?"
I squeak when he pulls me off him and sets me down on his side. I fidget as I feel the cushion of the bed on my swollen, dampened thighs. I reposition myself uncomfortably as he leans on his knees and sighs.
"Dream-"
"I will not forget this."
"... w-what?"
Dream turns to me, eyes darker than normal, face tense and clearly irritated, "you will learn not to resort to trickery with me, insolent girl."
Well, fuck. "My love-"
I don't get to speak as he stands and eyes me in disdain, "if you do not want me to touch you-"
"I didn't say I don't want you to touch-"
"-then I shall have my leave and keep my hands to myself."
I sigh in frustration as I watch him walk away from me. I crumble on the bed and slam my head on the sheets. I look up and see he's already by the door, his clothing already manifested on him, "Dream. Dream, please-"
Dream reaches for the knob and slams the door shut on his way out.
For the next week, the whole Dreaming would be walking on eggshells around their king and it was all my doing.
A harsh winter fell on the Dreaming. Everyone was fighting for their life in the cold and I could no longer let them suffer because of my unintended offence and his exaggerated pettiness.
I manage to get Mervyn make Dream go to the throne room.
The throne room echoes, "so, you've resorted to trickery once more, brat."
I turn over my shoulder and jolt when I see Dream already looming over me. I clutch my chest as I look up at him, "don't be ridiculous. Am I not guest who can ask for the attention of the king?"
"No," he rebuts.
The windows of the throne room begin to get battered by hail. I flinch when a large, icy stone breaks through the glass. I turn to the thing on the floor, back to the being that was the reason why there was an eternal frost, "Dream, please-"
"So, I do not please you?" his voice reverberates through my rib cage as his form is obscured and grows larger.
My heart races as I reach out and try to touch him. My hands go through his form and I whimper, "my love."
He growls.
I gasp when his icy hand takes my cheek.
"You have offended me beyond reparation."
I flinch at his touch. Cold begins to creep up on me. I bite back the quip lingering on my tongue. How dramatic of him.
I try to reach out to him again and this time, he lets me touch him. I feel something like shoulders and I pull on him, "puppy, please-"
"Do not insult me," he barks, face coming into view as he looks down on me, "I've had enough of you."
A shiver runs down my spine.
His hand dig into the roots of my hair. He pulls my locks back and tilts my head up, "so..." he inhales deeply, "how shall I get retribution? What will you to to appease me?"
My pulse quickens. I bite my lip, "anything."
He scoffs, "and have you trick me again?"
"I -" I shudder when he circles around me, "I promise I won't complain. I'll be a good girl."
"I do not believe you," he leans into my neck from behind, "insect."
Goosebumps form on my skin, "Dream-"
He places a hand on my mouth, "silence."
I squeal into his hand and do my best not to squirm at the ice cold of his palm now scouring my body. He breathes against my skin and I flinch at the cold.
"Oh," he mocks, hand coming off my mouth, "are you cold, my love?"
I suck in a sharp breath, "y-yes."
He hums and kisses my jaw. His lips are ice cold, "my poor girl."
I flinch when his hands trace upward underneath my shirt, "perhaps removing your clothes will help you," he pulls my top off, "don't you agree?"
I shiver and pant at the notion.
"Well?" he coaxes.
I find myself nodding, "y-yes."
Dream kisses my cheek repeatedly, "very good."
He turns me around and begins to strip me naked. I begin to shiver more violently when I'm left bare. I feel my nose begin to clog.
Fuck, I'm going to die.
"D-D-Dream," I shudder, "I'm fre-eezing."
He pulls me into his chest. He is an icicle. He caresses my cheeks, "shhh," he leans in and kisses me, "you're mine. Nothing else will touch you but me," he lifts me up, "isn't that right?"
"R-r-r-r-ight," I wrap my legs around him.
I let out a hiss when I am upon a cold surface. I realize then that I was sat on his throne.
I continue to shiver as he pulls away and looks down on me. He tilts his head as snow begins to powder the room, "you will not touch me," he bends down, "am I understood?"
I nod quickly as I watch him drop to his knees.
He sighs, steam wafting up from his lips, "good girl."
I hiss, nails digging into the armrest, when his suddenly hot fingers touch my shaking knees and part them, "sweet Mary- fuck-"
He snorts, steam coming out of his nostrils, "you will not say any other name but mine."
I pant heavily as he takes my legs and throw them over his shoulder. I whine and so badly want to grab at him when I feel how warm he is. I lean into him and cry out when his mouth connects with my freezing skin. My belly quakes for multiple reasons when his large hand rubs my skin. My nails scrape the wood on the armrest. I scream his name out helplessly.
He sighs in satisfaction. I hear him in my head: very good.
I screw my eyes shut and rut into him, "please let me touch you."
"Never," he rather instantaneously retorts.
It continues like this. I tremble at his ministrations while snow continues to build all over the throne room, save for the area around him.
"Fuck," I shake off snow from my shoulder. I flinch when I feel his tongue working on me. I could barely feel my fingers though my lower half was warm, "p-please, my hands-"
My cries fall deaf on his ears.
It continues like this up until my voice is hoarse and my calves are shaking at the feel of him eating me up.
"F-fu- D-Dream-"
"Mmm," he finally looks up at me, face wet with slick and saliva.
Fuck, I hate him but he was so pretty. "P-please- m-my hands," I shudder."
I could see the warmth radiating off him, "what of your hands, little bug?"
"T-they're so cold-"
I whimper when he takes my hands and places them on his cheeks, "better?"
I nod, "thank y-you."
Dream smiles softly, placing a burning kiss on the inside of my thigh, "good girl."
My belly spasms when I feel his hot breath on my core again, "tell me. Will my beautiful toy trick her master again?"
I let out a overwhelmed sound when he slowly sinks his teeth into my aching core. I arch my back and dig my fingers in his hair, pulling firmly. My toes curl as I whimper, "n-no."
He hums against me. It makes me squeal.
He takes my legs and pushes me back, hanging my legs on the armrest, "you swear it to me?"
I whimper when he pulls away from my thighs and rises to his feet to kiss me. I bring him close and relish the feel of his warmth, "yes," I sink my face into his neck and rub my cheek on his skin, "yes! I swear, I swear-"
"Mmm," he places his arms around me, "I believe you."
Dream rubs his hands down my shoulders then my thighs and pulls back.
I look up at him as snowflakes fall onto his hair and lashes. He smiles at me then rubs my cheek with his warm hand, "best find your clothes in the snow, my love. It would be unfortunate if you caught a cold."
"W-What?"
With that, he retreats and wraps his coat around himself.
I shiver and watch my breath condense in the air Dream walks off, treading easily through the snow.
When I realize what was happening, I curl into myself and feel my body shake. Was it the cold? Anger? Betrayal? Who knew.
"Come quick, pretty girl. I will prepare a cup of tea for you in the kitchen," he calls over his shoulder, licking his lips as he heads for the door.
I hiss when I attempt to step into the snow. I whimper and look up as I clutch my chest, "you're not seriously leaving me? Dream?! DREAM!"
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mysticfoxdesigns · 1 year ago
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My drafts were being weird @skatermusic so here we are
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Heatwave headcanons
He was lower caste on Cybertron before coming to the Rescue Bots
This mf is shit at reading due to this, but he tries his best to hide it
His formal education is whatever they taught at the academy, and even then due to the age he was when he came in and his graduation year, his education level isn't as high as the others
He is street smart though, and has a basic understanding of things around him. He isn't stupid when you actually look into what he knows
Sometimes doubts his position as leader due to this. Majority of the team leaders have been fire bots, so he sometimes believes that is why he was chosen as Sigma 17's team leader
Doesn't help that their team's graduation was rushed. That part was never really explained to them
Out of all of the Sigma team he is closest to Chase, but isn't Amica level with him (that honor has been given to Blades)
Loves to lie to the humans about basic Cybertronian things. Things from how they sleep, refuel, if they can cry or not, all of that is fair game for him to lie about. Anything that can actually be useful for them to know, such as patching them up, he allows Blades to explain
Speaking of Blades, these two started to rough house more as Blade's confidence grew. The rest of the team likes to watch them wrestle with each other
Literally cannot tell if Quickshadow is either flirting with him or making fun of him. Blades does not make it any easier as well with his input
Blurr gets under his plating but most of that is due to him seeing a younger self in Blurr. He tries his best to guide Blurr away from making the same mistakes as him, but sometimes you just gotta let him learn the hard way
Will never admit it, but loves when Kade insists on them visiting different scenic areas of Griffin Rock. The scenery was one of the small things that made him want to stay
Speaking of these times, he will also never admit that he loves hearing the stories Kade tells him. When he isn't trying to pose up for others, Kade actually makes a good talking partner to the bot.
While he doesn't fully understand the whole Kaiju movie industry, he will admit that watching giant monsters beat the shit out of each other is entertaining. Kade has dragged him off to a Godzilla movie marathon
Cody throws off his guardian coding, especially with all of the danger he gets into
He teaches Cody with his holoform different self defense mechanisms, and sometimes drags Kade in to be the test dummy
Has broken his training dummy so many times that Boulder had refused to fix it for 2 solid months. After that they came to a conclusion to create a metal one
Will allow Chase to infodump about his detective movies and books, but if there were a test at the end, he would fail
Finds metal and punk music to be the most similar human music to his favorite Cybertronian genres of music
Use to follow Megatron's speeches due to his position in the lower caste, but gave up on him after the council meeting and the fall out after that
"Why the frag is half of this island brain dead?"
Has never killed a man or bot, but isn't opposed to it if he weren't a Rescue Bot and was under oath
Is very sassy after the bots are revealed to the community. Has ruined many of Huxley's clips by swearing in English
Swears the most in English, but Blades wins for Cybertronian swearing
Races Hightide in boat mode. Only won once because Hightide took pity
Would gladly fuck up MECH if they met
And those are some Heatwave headcanons! Hope you enjoy
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like-rain-or-confetti · 2 months ago
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Long time lurker first time ask haha
But if you still write for batman villains and are currently taking requests, how would the main 5 + Bane and whoever you'd like react to having an S/O who is constantly stealing things from their closet, like a shirt or a sweater.
Also thank for even reading this your wonderful and I am obsessed with how you write all of them! I hope your having a good day :)
Honey? Where's my supersuit!?
Oh hi lingering time lurker it's so nice to see you!🥰
Scarecrow: The change in weather was coming so Jonathan could resort to his thicker woollen sweater vests. He reached for it in his drawer only to find it wasn't there. That's odd. It should have been there. It's the right colour for his jacket too. Where could it have gone? Then he sighed to himself and pulled out his phone from his pocket. He checked your social media. Your recent picture showed you wearing the very sweater vest he was looking for. He sighed. "Fine. I suppose the other one will do." He gave in trying to stop you ages ago.
The Riddler: If you ever had a reason to steal his clothes, it was because the weather was getting colder. So you stole his sweatshirt. However, what was better was that he probably wouldn't notice because it was an old one. It was almost like a game actually. It'll be amusing to see how long it actually takes for him to notice. Turns out it took 4 hours. You also speculated he was hacking your social media accounts. You took a picture and left it in the drafts. Only to find it posted a few hours later with the caption. "I steal my boyfriends sweaters."
Two-Face: He was passing by when he did a double-take on (Y/N). "...(Y/N)?" "Hm?" You looked up from your phone on the couch. "I might be imagining things but...are you wearing my boxers?" Harvey asked. You chuckled sheepishly. "They're comfy." "That's really hot." Harv' blurted out. You snickered as Harvey looked disappointed in his alter. "He has no filter around you, I swear." He sighed. "Please just keep in mind I only have so many and you don't always do the laundry when you plan to." Harvey then teased.
Black Mask: When you walked into the room, he noticed immediately. "Well, look at you, you suit my shirt, gorgeous." He eyed his black shirt on you. His eyes roamed up and down. "Smell like me too. It just gets better and better." He looked smug, like the sight alone had put him into a good mood. "Good morning to me." He chuckled to himself.
Mad Hatter: He went to deal with his usual crimes and hallucinations when he halted mid stride. "I knew something was wrong." Jervis said as he looked at his hands. His bare pale hands. His black leather gloves weren't on his hands. "Oh dearie me, this isn't good. Not one, not one bit, no siree!" (Y/N) turned the corner. "Huh?" "I lost my gloves! My hands are bare! Oh, how I despair!" He yelled. He showed his hands, limp wrists infront of him like he was imitating a T-Rex. "What do I do with my hands now!?" "Jervis, honey..." (Y/N) replied. "I borrowed them, let me go get them." "Oh? Oh...that's a relief." He exhaled.
Bane: "Is that my belt!?" He huffed. "Yeah, I needed to borrow it." You replied. "Don't tell me you don't own a belt now?" He groaned. "I don't actually." You replied. "So buy yourself one." Bane countered. "Why would I when I can use yours?" "For the exact reason that it's mine!" Bane groaned loudly. You stared at him for a moment. "You haven't needed to use a belt in years." You said with exasperation. Bane paused. You had him there. "Oh fine!" He huffed.
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spaceumbredoggos · 9 months ago
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However fucked up Alex reveals Bill and Ford’s relationship is revealed to be in The Book Of Bill, Kenz and Bill’s is a hundred times worse.
Disclaimer: I am not glorifying abuse in any way shape or form. I myself have had nightmares similar to this despite never being sexually abused, both Bill related and otherwise. Some of these are based on personal experience (such as the nightmares), whilst others are a device used to show how fucked up shipping Bill with pretty much anyone is. Not even the Axolotl is safe in my opinion. If Bill was real, I’d guarantee he’d probably be a massive creep and with how thirsty his fankids are (and I’m calling myself out here) he’d probably use his magic to g*oom those kids like a church pastor. The thing that scares me the most about Bill being canonically real is not that he could catastrophically end the world, it’s his oversexualization in the fandom that got so bad, Alex himself had to make him unattractive. This will be along the lines of a Yandere Bill Cipher x Reader headcanons. With that being said, here’s a few content warnings:
G*ooming, Pedoph*lia, s*xual abuse and assault, physical and psychological abuse, mind control, cult-like things, psychosis, and general paranoia. I’m not saying these things actually happened, but knowing Bill’s character and his powers and history, if he was real, I’d generally be afraid for anyone in the Gravity Falls fandom. Especially minors.
This could be my most controversial post yet, and it could jeopardize any potential of getting into some colleges. This may sound like paranoid rambling, but I know that Bill is just a cartoon character. That being said, Alex like the blur the line between our world and the world of gravity falls with Bill’s character, dicing around the fact that he’s influenced history and wrote all religion on the basis of a lie. I’m not scapegoating him as “controlling global politics on a massive scale” because that would be stupid and I’ll sound like those tin foil hat rednecks that snort moonshine and burn pride flags. My heart goes out to all those who have been impacted by all forms of abuse as an abuse survivor myself. Alex, if you see this post (or any other of my posts/ read my fanfics), just know that it’s a critique on the fandom and the canon lore, and a cautionary warning to avoid lawsuits in case The Book of Bill Cipher causes mass psychosis.
As a kid (ages 7-9) I would watch Gravity Falls casually. At that age, the only thing I consumed online content wise was Skylanders and Minecraft content (Skylanders until age nine, then it was pretty much a lot of Team Crafted, Popularmmos, DanTDM, and other Minecraft YouTubers.) I didn’t invest in the Gravity Falls fandom until I was eleven (that’s when I first started writing my fanfics. The drafts are long gone because they were on school computers that were crammed with viruses due to kids installing Minecraft mods (this was just before chromebooks became mainstream. I went to a special ed middle school specifically for autistic individuals (it was pretty ableist, gonna make a post on that.) so the rules on what was allowed in school were pretty loose content wise. It didn’t have to be educational, as long as it didn’t have blood or guns. There were no safe search filters or Go Guardian (I remember one of my friends accidentally finding Iris from Pokemon black and white vore. I also found Pacifica vore.)) Before that, the February before my tenth birthday, my dad took my TV out of my room due to behavioral issues (undiagnosed autism go brrr). Around that time, there was talk in my town that the Disney channel was “rotting kids minds” with bad attitudes and crude humor (this could be said about any child’s television network (I mean, look at Nickelodeon.) but I lived in a pretty conservative area of Southern California and had a pretty conservative dad. So naturally, Disney was the scapegoat (this was way before the “woke” era of Disney.)) All of this talk of Brainrot made me stop watching the Disney channel during the peak era of gravity falls (2015 as a whole) and I didn’t watch gravity falls again until summer of 2016 when my tv was put back in my room (with intense parental controls so that I couldn’t watch my vet shows.) That’s when I had my first gravity falls dream about Bill cipher. It had to do with getting unicorn hair to protect my house from Bill Cipher. I had an interest in dreams previously due to warrior cats. It was at that moment when Gravity Falls was added to the obsession list.
As a neurodivergent eleven year old surrounded by other neurodivergent preteens and teens, we found common ground talking about Gravity Falls at school. I also would, whenever I didn’t feel the prying eyes of the grown ups or my peers would go off outside and act out my gravity falls x pokemon x warrior cats fanfiction (I’m not sure if those are signs of maladaptive daydreaming disorder or I simply had an intense imagination that would consume my body and make me want to just act out my fanfictions outside. I don’t do this anymore, mostly because of my own embarrassment and I can just write it out.) Yes, there were times where the discussion or action played out Bill Cipher being real. A lot of my “play” as I called it back then was me being kidnapped or possessed by Bill. I even wrote some really cringey fanfics involving my friends and Bill Cipher. To this day, I still involve my family in my fanfiction, but more final drafts will have their names changed. Weirdmaggeddon was a common topic, as well as Bill Cipher possession.
As time went on, I had more dreams about Bill Cipher, fueling the obsession and the fact that Bill could be real. During my middle school years, I never had a crush on Bill Cipher, despite what my friends seem to think. My parents just took it as whatever and as long as I was happy and just working towards going to a neurotypical non-sped school. My crush on Bill Cipher didn’t start until I was in high school. I remember it specifically being Valentine’s Day 2020 when I learned that I have a crush on the triangle. My dreams of Bill would only get more frequent and worse from here (involving the typical horny teenage dream that I don’t want to elaborate because I feel weird doing so (you’ll see why later on.))
Now there’s typically nothing wrong with having a cartoon crush. Given any other cartoon character that doesn’t have a canon history of influencing this world (Bill’s history of influence is vague but it still counts) I would excuse this as another silly cartoon crush like PurpleCliffe simping for Cynthia and the like. However, given that it’s in the show’s canon that Bill could be real and he crossed over to our world, do you understand what implications this could have? Bill is trillions of years old, he’s likely seen every timeline to ever exist. Meanwhile, there are whole armies of fankids who are down bad for him (including me.)
Notice how when I first started getting into Gravity Falls that I didn’t have a crush on him. How many other fankids felt the same way? It wasn’t until years of obsessing over Gravity Falls did I develop feelings for him. And of Alex says in the Book of Bill Cipher what I think he’s going to say (that Bill probably ab*sed Ford sexually with possible g*ooming involved), notice the pattern that is being presented here? Alex, if you blur the lines between fiction and reality with a villain who may or may not have canonically g*oomed and abused someone, possibly using mind control given his powers and his role as a dream demon, could it really be so far fetched that… (I’m not going to say it because it’s leaving a sour taste in my mouth, but use your imagination.)
If we take Alex’s word that Bill has crossed over to our world, then we can only assume that there are vulnerable kids and adults being… You get the picture. I’m not explicitly saying that it is happening right now, but this is problematic because revealing that Bill ab*sed Ford in that way means that Alex would probably imply that Bill is doing the same to MINORS. I may sound paranoid and this may just be a ramble, but considering the show’s canon and how mythology is filled with cases of degenerative acts from deities, this is a really fucked up situation.
It may be funny to say “haha, evil triangle man is sexy” but at the end of the day, Alex stated that Bill has crossed over into our world. For all we know, he could be taking advantage of the fact that people thirst for him, probably not in pleasant ways.
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henrysglock · 1 year ago
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Local Man Uses The Cyclical 27-Year Torment Nexus To Try And Change His Fate [EPIC FAIL COMPILATION]
You probably guessed that this is the time-travel post I've been slaving over. You'd be right. This is the newest and most formal iteration of my long-standing time loop theory (I have drafted flowcharts back from February that actually predicted a dimension/time fuckery event in 1943 in relation to Brenner, which was made canon by TFS). So...Let's just dive right in. Note: I'm planning to keep calling TFS Henry "Henry" here just for simplicity's sake.
Now, fair warning: There are a few big "bear with me"s in this post. I promise they make sense, I just need you to hear me out.
It all started with Henry's self-proclaimed superhero name: The Stardust Spider.
Some of you may have seen my original post about The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars (here).
Before anyone says "Oh, but that album didn't exist yet", a reference in 1959 about a Bowie album that wouldn't be recorded until November of 1971 is in keeping with TFS's habit of directly referencing things from the '70s that "don't exist yet".
However, all that aside, there's a specific piece I want to return to, because it bugs the living daylights out of me.
There was a cut song that was meant to go on the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars titled "Shadow Man":
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For obvious reasons in relation to Henry in The First Shadow, this song already stuck out.
Specifically, though, these few stanzas hit me weirdly:
You should call and see who answers For he promises to come running Guided by the truth For the Shadow Man is really You Look in his eyes and see your reflection Look to the stars and see his eyes He'll show you tomorrow, he'll show you the sorrows Of what you did today You can call him foe, you can call him friend You should call and see who answers (see who answers) For he knows your eyes are drawn to the road ahead And the Shadow man is waiting 'round the bend ('round the bend) Shadow man is waiting up ahead
The Shadow Man is you from the future. He's waiting up ahead to show you the the truth/the consequences of your actions.
Considering that the TFS version of Young "Henry" has a direct connection to both the Shadow and Dimension X from a young age, and he also experiences what seem to be Vecna-type visions, this becomes particularly interesting to me...Especially seeing as said fates are not only possible for future "Henry", but also canon for future "Henry". (See: Vecna guy vs Mindflayer guy)
So, when I see an almost comical number of lines in TFS relating to rewriting known, undesirable endings (here are a few of my favorites):
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And when we revisit some of the on-film classics:
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I start to think it's time we revisit the concept of time-travel and trying to change your own fate.
It's always hard to know where to start with posts like these, so I'm going to kick things off with the technical aspect: The Cycle.
Something I've talked about in the past year, mostly on Discord, is this concept of a time loop. Not just any old time loop, though. A 27 year cycle, specifically.
Not 20, not 30...
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Now, we all know the TFS timeline is messy as hell and doesn't actually align with anything that's possible in filmed canon...or within its own time span, even.
For example, the attack on Mr. Newby happens both some point after October 1st, 1959 and before November 20th, 1959...but the papers for the incident report it on March 20th, 1958:
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The timeline we're given also largely fabricated, as I pointed out in relation to the newspapers with dates that don't actually exist.
However, much like NINA, the sequence itself being fake doesn't mean the events didn't happen. It's just not happening in the time frame we're told it's happening in:
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It's a set of real events, just portrayed on a different time scale.
So, with all that in mind, I want to lay out a timeline, starting from Season 4 and moving backwards in time:
— Vecna opens the rifts, and El opens a gate to Dimension X in NINA, both in 1986. The March 1959 Creel Murders occur exactly 27 years before the Rifts and NINA's Dimension X gate open in 1986...at which point the Mindflayer is shown to be active.
— Mothergate opens through to Dimension X at some point between November 1983 and October 1984, this being somewhere between 16-28 months prior the Rifts opening. The paper about the attack on Mr. Newby, dated March 20th, 1958, is released exactly 610 days, or 20 months, prior to the Creel murders on November 20th, 1959. It's not necessarily the exact dates that are important here (again, these dates are relatively unreliable), but the gap between the dates.
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When put in accordance with filmed dates (i.e. setting the release of this paper exactly 610 days prior to March 22nd of 1959), the paper for the attack on Mr. Newby would have been released on July 20th, 1957. This would be in line with Edward Creel's move to Hawkins in the spring of 1957...while also occurring 27 years before July of 1984, at which point Mothergate is open, and the Mindflayer is active.
This July date is especially funny to me considering we get "throwaway" lines like this...with shots in filmed canon from summertime:
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Top: Joyce and Jim beginning their investigation into the attic attack. Hopper Sr. is questioning why Joyce and Jim are investigating, rather than attending school. Bottom: Alice and Henry with the rabbit death scenes in filmed canon, the setting showing full foliage and both children in summer clothing. "Is it summer break?" I don't know. You tell me, Chief.
Per TFS, Henry went missing in a cave system near his home town of Rachel, Nevada (hold that thought) at some point in the year prior to the attack on Mr. Newby. We've been told that Dimension X was involved in this event in Nevada, something happened there that left "Henry" altered physically. He was also flayed at some point around this time.
This all coincides with Henry's dramatic mood shift from a "normal and good" boy to one suffering from Mindflayer-induced psychosis. This change happened in tandem with the Nevada incident, dating back 10 months prior to the attack on Mr. Newby:
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If we set Henry's initial disappearance in line with filmed canon like before, it becomes September of 1956, which is just over 27 years before Will's disappearance in November of 1983, at which point we know at least one gate is open.
We also have 1952, at which point TFS Henry would be 7 per his age as a 14 year old/freshman in play canon. This exists in a 27 year interval against 1979, when El opens the original gate that sends One to Dimension X, where he subsequently shapes the Shadow into the Mindflayer.
Here comes the first "hear me out".
My questions are:
Since Henry/Vecna/The Mindflayer/etc. in general don't show any capability for opening gates before 1986, then how the hell is the Mindflayer possessing anyone in 1959?
How did "Henry" get involved with Dimension X in Nevada in the 1950s?
Unless, by some chance:
Dimension X exists all the time simultaneously (i.e. it's a space outside time)
The gates exist simultaneously across time and space in the Right Side Up in 27 year intervals. By which I mean: A gate that opens in, say, 1983 would exist simultaneously in 1956, so on an so forth.
There's the disappearance of Captain Brenner and the USS Eldridge in 1943, which would, interestingly enough, align with 1970, the supposed year of El's conception.
Then, 1952. Now, I'm not sure what's special about 1952, when TFS "Henry" was 7, because they don't actually say what happened to make that year important! They make a point to show it to us, though, meaning something happened...we just don't know what. All I can say is that 1952 does exist in a 27 year interval against El's 1979 gate. Hold that thought.
Those addressed, let's fast-forward 4 years: 1956/1983.
Now, to be fair, there is some uncertainty in my mind about whether this specific gate incident stems from Brenner's involvement with Project Rainbow in Nevada pre-1957*, or if it stems from Mothergate in 1983, or if they created some kind of wormhole between the two locations 27 years apart...but that's a concept I need to explore more thoroughly in a another post.
In short, though: Did a singular El open a singular Mothergate? Did El open mothergate? Did Mothergate actually open on November 6th, 1983...or are we just supposed to assume it opened the same night Will went missing/the demogorgon came through? We're never given a concrete date for when Mothergate actually opened.
* In TFS, Brenner claims he's dedicated his life post-1943 to Project Rainbow with the goal of finding Dimension X, and that he's doing so in pursuit of knowledge regarding the circumstances of his father's death in connection with the Philadelphia Experiment. The USS Eldridge, Brenner Sr.'s ship, disappeared into Dimension X briefly on October 28th, 1943. "Brenner Sr." was the sole survivor. "He" returned to the Right Side Up with a completely unique blood type, supposedly altered by his travels into Dimension X. This is what ultimately led to him succumbing to his injuries, due to his body rejecting all forms of blood transfusion. Brenner Jr. tells us that about 10 months prior to Henry's first stay in HNL, a scientist from Project Rainbow escaped Brenner's lab carrying a container of a dangerous material, and ended up near the same Nevada cave system Henry disappeared into. We don't know how or when this material was collected, or what it was, but we know they found Henry's Captain Midnight spyglass next to a body (identity unspecified) with no trace of that dangerous material. We get no further detail about the Nevada Disappearance.
Anyway, someone opens a gate in the fall of 1956 and/or 1983 (my money's on it being directly linked to an El in 1983 either way). No matter who did it, though, someone opened a gate at both time points, showing us this 27 year link between the 2 dates, 2 key locations.
"Henry" goes missing in Nevada in 1956, and ends up involved with Dimension X...Which aligns with the choice of song surrounding this version of the Creel family while they move into their new home:
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Coincidentally, 27 years in the future, so does Will, in Indiana. Their experiences are linked across those two spaces via that 27 year period.
We know that regardless of the gate in Nevada...Mothergate, at least, stays open until from fall 1956/1983 to fall 1957/1984. That covers exact time frame that the adjusted dates for both Henry's accident with the boy in Nevada and his accident with Mr. Newby fall in (as well as Will's time between his disappearance and his flaying).
The closer we get to Will's flaying in 1984, and the closer the Mindflayer gets to crossing through Mothergate, the more TFS Henry sounds like One (post-1979) while he's possessed in 1957, the more strangely he behaves in general (almost as though the Mindflayer is more enmeshed in his everyday life/closer to the surface), and the stronger the possession attempts seem to become overall. He begins giving nightmare visions to other people, namely tormenting Virginia with spiders and her past. He has his final and most powerful "Vecna" vision on the night of the attack on Mr. Newby.
Any kind of reciprocal gate irt Mothergate in the '50s would have gone unnoticed, since the papers in TFS indicate that HNL wasn't established until Brenner showed up to take Henry in.
Mothergate closes briefly, only for a gate to open in July 1958/1985 in the underground location of the future Starcourt Mall. This, in 1958, is during our unaccounted-for 20 months between the attack on Mr. Newby and the Creel murders. (Something rattles about this and the scene where Henry nearly makes full contact with the Mindflayer, when he has a handful of duplicate lines re: his 4.07 monologue self, but I don't have sufficient evidence to make that claim with any certainty.)
That gate closes, until Vecna opens gates in Hawkins in March of 1986, and El opens a Dimension X gate briefly and simultaneously in both Hawkins/Nevada in September of 1979 (September of 1952) and Hawkins/Nevada in March of 1986 (March of 1959) during NINA, concurrently...at least one of which may have gone unnoticed, since the Rainbow Room and the surrounding labs seems to have been abandoned entirely after 1979, and HNL as a whole has once again been abandoned after the events of 1984 ("unnoticed" and "abandoned", I say as if the building isn't still being surveilled by Brenner/Owens et. al...I just mean that the building isn't in use by the government at that point in time.)
We're shown the Shadow activating all the way in Russia due to one or multiple of these events. 27 years earlier, in March of 1959, the Mindflayer once again becomes active, per TFS's adjusted dates. Chaos ensues.
At this point, "Henry" starts swapping between sounding like his young self and sounding like his 4.07 Monologuing Adult self again, doing that kind of "I've seen the future" foreshadowing talk with Joyce that his visions did with him:
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Here, he also sounds distinctly like ST3 flayed Billy, specifically in the way of the scene with El in the cabin when "Billy" outlines the Mindflayer's plans for her, her friends, and all of Hawkins while crying.
The rest is, well...history. Whatever fuckery went on, it doesn't seem to have made much of a difference. After all, TFS is a "canon event", meaning it had to end the way it did.
Remember those thoughts I asked you to hold?
TFS being a "canon event" means it had to end with Henry in the lab alongside baby El...thus completing our loop, which starts again with the events of 1979/1952. A 27 year loop. TFS may be indicative of a time loop.
Hence:
Out of place dates from the 1970s start to bleed into the 1950s: - A town like Rachel, Nevada, which wasn't established until 1978, now exists circa 1952-1959 after El opens a gate to Dimension X circa 1979 in Nevada circa 1986 via NINA, which exists...about 40-50 miles from Rachel.
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- An album like Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (November, 1971) or a song like "Chuck E's In Love" (April, 1979) gets referenced circa 1957-1959. - An article about a "younger, more handsome" alien clone of Elvis appears in a 1959 Weekly Watcher paper about the Creel murders, despite Elvis having been 24 at the time...making this an article more likely to have appeared in the '70s or later, likely sometime around Elvis' death in 1977.
2. The Shadow is always depicted as the fully formed Mindflayer circa 1956-1959, despite the shaping event happening in the 4 years between 1979-1983:
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3. Henry has Vecna-type visions, despite being the only vision-giver we know of circa 1957-1959.
4. 6 different guys later in the HNL massacre: 2 with the original baby El, 2 with teen El via NINA, and 2 in an as-of-yet unseen product of NINA's Loop (see: the final scene of TFS).
All this laid out, some questions remain:
Why do Henry's visions show him the genuine, terrifying reality of his future?
Why are these visions generally lacking in coercion?
Why are Vecna chime sounds heard before the major supernatural events that deal with visions, even though we never actually see the clock? (They're heard before Virginia in the attic, before the attack on Mr. Newby, before the Creel murders, and in the basement when Henry monologues at Joyce while viewing the corpses of his family.)
Why don't these chimes play when the Mindflayer alone is present, e.g. when no visions occur? (See: Henry contacting the Mindflayer in the lab)
And we don't really get an answer to any of these. Not an easily spotted outright answer, anyway.
But what's really fascinating, which I mentioned just a second ago and takes me back to the top of this post, back to the "Stardust Spider" and Shadow Man, is the fact that despite occurring concurrently with the possession attempts...none of these visions contain an ultimatum. There's no "If you don't obey me, I'll hurt someone you love", no "I'm showing you what's going to happen if you don't obey me", nothing of the sort.
The closest we get to coercion is the bathroom vision, when Henry fights off a possession attempt in the school bathroom and ends up in a vision regarding Patty. When "Patty" starts to talk to him about his future, about how Henry's going to kill her and so many others, Henry says "you're not Patty...what are you?" Then he gets into a physical brawl with her, which is surprisingly well matched. Vision Patty encourages him during that fight, saying things like "That's it!", "We want the same thing!", and "We can have her!"
Those seem like pretty straightforward "the Mindflayer's encouraging Henry to kill" encouragements, right?
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Yeah, at first glance. However...lets read that back right quick, but with Moral Objectivity Goggles on this time. Henry openly, verbally identifies that Vision Patty is "not her, not Patty", but is, in fact, something else. He does this multiple times before he lunges at "not Patty", and he is subsequently encouraged by not-Patty...who tells him they want the same thing. That's not suspicious at all. The motives here are definitely crystal clear and totally aren't conflicting in any way.
There's the straightforward surface aspect, and then something else piggybacking on it, complicating it. Hold that thought.
Other than that instance, the negative parts of Henry's visions are all just...information. They're showing him what will come to pass...almost like they're motivating him to fight the Mindflayer. Hold onto that thought too, it buddies with the previous one.
Henry's freaking out about Prancer because he's getting close with Patty, and he's worried he'll hurt her?
His vision informs him that he's going to kill more, that he's going to hurt things, that he's going to kill Patty if he stays around her and/or gives into the Mindflayer's desires. And then it happens. All of it. He kills more animals. He hurts things and people, the pets and lab animals, Mr. Newby, and Inmate 58361 being prime examples. He gives in to the Mindflayer's desire to kill and kills Virginia. He does, by the extent of his perception, kill Patty in the accident.
The same goes for his vision in the attic. Henry's up in the attic using his powers to find someone/snoop on them, fearful of opening himself up for a possession attempt?
The vision version of Patty's mother catches Henry and tells him she "wants to tell him a secret" while his body is being puppeted to attack Mr. Newby. The next time the curtain rises to show us the inside of Henry's mind, he's seeing himself as Vecna, strung up on the tentacles and strangling people with them...just like the end of Season 4. Once again, he's seeing the future that will come to pass...should he fail to fight the Mindflayer off.
We can tell it's a vision, not what's physically happening in reality, because: a) Henry's watching himself in the attic from the stage below. b) It's got the messed up red lighting c) They show us reality just moments before, not a tentacle in sight and without Henry on the stage there observing:
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d) The ending of the vision doesn't match with reality:
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At the end of this vision, Henry passes out both in the void and IRL, while the vision version of Henry remains crouching. That is a different guy, entirely separate from IRL/Void Henry. There is at least one other person in the visions who is not a product of the vision itself.
Remember those thoughts from a bit ago that I asked you to hold?
Well. This also happens to be the sequence where we not only get Vision-Patty repeating Henry's own words from just after Prancer's death ("It's not real. It's not real. It's a nightmare") back to him, a phrase IRL Patty has never heard, but we also get:
Visions Patty telling Henry how to fight and evade the possession, as if she knows what she's doing ("It's your dream, remember? Anything is possible").
Vision Patty telling Henry she loves him as the last-ditch effort when his "good dream" memory of the real Patty fails to save him from the possession.
These are both things IRL Patty wouldn't know or think to say, since IRL Patty fully believed that Henry attacked her of his own volition out of malice, and she needed to be shown a drawing of the Mindflayer by Mr. Newby in order to abandon that belief.
IRL Patty's behavior is not the behavior of someone who a) knows the ins and outs of Henry's situation with the Mindflayer, and b) coached him through overcoming a possession attempt a little while earlier. It's just not.
Just like before, we're seeing contradictions and complications between vision-selves and IRL selves, along with a sense of piggybacking within possession attempts, wherein the vision serves as motivation for Henry to fight harder in resistance to the Mindflayer...while the Mindflayer is possessing him.
It's starting to become my favorite thing in the world: A pattern of behavior.
In summary:
Henry's are visions are visions of his future, and they're being shown to him by someone.
They are separate from, but piggybacking on, the Mindflayer's possession attempts.
The purpose of the visions isn't solely to torment Henry or coerce him into doing the Mindflayer's bidding. In fact, the content of the visions seems curated to make Henry fight harder in resistance to the Mindflayer.
So if, for example, Vision Patty ≠ IRL Patty, but she's acting against the Mindflayer's best interest/in support of Henry...then...
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I think my answer to the questions of "who", "when", and "how" should be at least somewhat clear by this point:
Someone...from the future.
Specifically, someone from 1979-1986 who has access to the gates from the Dimension X side, someone with both vision-giving and time-related abilities who's directly connected to the Mindflayer/the Hive Mind, but who has a vested interest in countering the Mindflayer, saving Henry Creel, and trying to change the course of the future.
A traitor. A spy, if you will.
"A spy...from the future?"
[gestures at the Signs] Yeah, you heard me.
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A spy from the future.
So, on that note: The point in this section wherein I ask you to hear me out.
I get the feeling TFS Henry is being told and/or shown what will come to pass in the future by himself...the Mindflayer.
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And you're probably going "How do you figure that one, James? Isn't the Mindflayer a villainous force?"
I mean, yeah. Of course it is. However...
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There are clearly multiple forces at play within the Mindflayer (hive mind!), and TFS shows us that Henry Creel wouldn't choose to be a villain.
Thus I think the visions in TFS are situations where, as in the 4.07 rabbit scene, things look really damning on first view. They play on our empathy using small, visibly-frightened, helpless victims and shocking, violent circumstances to guide us into making the assumption that everything about the situation is inherently malicious.
We're shown this poor little guy, "Henry". He's 14 years old, he clocks in at 5'5", he's skittish/scared of (ha) his own shadow, and he's geeky to the nth degree about comic books (just LOOK at that Captain Midnight salute? What an cute little nerd). He's immediately lovable. He's also, we find out rather abruptly, plagued by horrific visions and murderous fits of possession.
The immediate response is to go "He's being psionically tortured by some sick, sadistic son of a bitch who hungers for nothing but blood and control", just like Nancy and the ST fandom collectively did with Young Henry's rabbit scene...only to be proven wrong about Henry's intentions via TFS.
I mean, does anyone (anyone who's able to read this post, anyway 🤭) look at TFS Henry, filmed Young Henry, or even Orderly Henry and go "Yeah. He totally wanted what he got, and if he had the chance, he definitely wouldn't try to save himself from that fate"?
No.
TFS Shows us that "Henry" was a terrified, traumatized boy who wanted it all to stop. He's kind, brave, and stronger than he seems. We're also shown that he's capable of overcoming the Mindflayer to issue warnings to people he cared about (i.e. telling people to run, or prophesying dangers he'd seen via the visions). He was trying to survive with next to no help while causing as little harm as possible. He was a good kid, and he certainly wasn't evil.
So, all that said...I think that, via the Shadow's hive-mind capabilities, Henry's "fronting", in a manner of speaking, in order to show this version of himself the future. Probably as a warning, probably as motivation to fight the Mindflayer, and all with a nice side-dish of "here's how you fight this thing off so that my current future doesn't become our future" before someone else tapes over the figurative laptop camera.
[coughs, drops this Brenner-Mindflayer collage on the table in front of you, and then scurries away]
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With that said, I'd like to loop all the way back to the top of this post: The "Shadow Man" may be Henry from the future. He's waiting up ahead to show his younger self the true outcome of his choices.
We all know how TFS ends, though. Hence:
[EPIC FAIL COMPILATION]
This brings me to my final "bear with me" point: The matter of the strange double-agent vibes from the UD in every season.
I'm not sure if anyone else outside the unholycule has noticed this, but in every season there's at least one instance of the UD just...offering up information.
"It does?"
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Yup! Let me explain.
On first glance, we look at things like Nancy's vision and even El's vision with Billy in the cabin, and we go "Oh, it's because [insert "the bad guy's cruel/he wants to scare her/his hubris will be his downfall/all serial killers want to be known for their crimes" etc here]"...but maybe that's not the case.
For example: Vecna told Nancy his backstory, and then he immediately went
"Oh hey, so not only am I revealing my identity (Which may help you find out more about me via lab records later on, things like...maybe a list of my abilities, or my weaknesses, like the fact that I have a nut allegry. Allegedly.), but I'm also gonna give you a sneak peek of my apocalypse plans. For free. As a treat. Don't use these to prepare or anything. I'm totally not giving you a head start".
Terrifying, yes. A taunt and a threat on surface view, yes...but also showing his hand. "I want you to tell Eleven everything you see" Why. Why would he want that. He may be confident in his plans, arrogant, even...but he's not that stupid.
I'm serious, though. Check it out in comparison to Henrys visions of the future. The pattern is patterning:
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We can track that back to El's cabin scene with Billy, wherein he tells her she shouldn't have looked for him, warns her that they all can see her, and that they're going to be coming after her...and he cries about it. That's vision Billy. That's someone else who piggybacked into El's mind from Billy's mind. That's not real Billy, just like how Billy in Max's vision wasn't the real Billy. The person giving El that vision warns her. Why on earth would he tell her that they can see her, that they're coming for her? That's sensitive information! It would be smarter to let her think she's safe and use that false sense of security to catch her off guard.
In fact, this pattern patterns so well that I'd like to argue this: Henry's TFS visions, Nancy's vision, and El's vision are all the same type of behavior displayed in NINA's chess scene, just in different contexts.
Henry ("Henry") gives some kind of scary prophetic information ("He and the others are going to attempt to kill you", "I would very much like to show you where I am going", "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"), and then we're left to question if it's a scare tactic, manipulative misinformation, or helpful inside information.
It's not that the Mindflayer or Vecna can't hide things from people (see: "Somewhere he didn't want me to see")...like, say, the fact that the Mindflayer is now able to see El, or that Vecna's planning to open 4 gates with his 4 kills.
It's always this miraculous "Huh! Weird info-dropping behavior from the UD's side. Shouldn't look that gift-horse in the mouth though. It's probably just a writing oversight or a shoehorned exposé, so really there's no need to question it." situation where it's just...information that's offered up with no real explanation.
Some of my favorite examples:
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...and it's all topped off with Max's line:
"He's been telling us his plan this whole time".
That is to say...You're telling me:
The first message from the Upside Down isn't any of the messages that are concretely Will's, but instead it's the one that's a repetitive Henry line...and it's conveyed in a distinctly not-Will style? A message that saves Joyce, something that's definitely not in the UD's best interest given her tenacity in finding her boy...but is definitely coming from the UD nonetheless?
Will, who fell total prey to the Mindflayer in less than 3 days, was not only able to figure out how to defeat the Mindflayer, but was also strong enough to convey it in Morse code? The Mindflayer, who is able to keep secrets (see below), just...let that information slip?
El, who acknowledges that the Mindflayer is more than able to hide things from her, is suddenly released into Billy's memories and allowed to find the source unimpeded?
The Mindflayer, as Billy (Remember: not actually Billy, because Billy can't give visions or invade minds), is telling El that because he's able to see her now, she shouldn't have looked for him? The Mindflayer, which was supposedly building the Fleshflayer to track El down and kill her? Suddenly he's telling her she shouldn't have done the thing that allowed him to find her more easily?
Vecna's giving up all the information about himself and his plans before he's even gotten the 4th gate open, despite him being so secretive about it up until that point?
Henry's visions in TFS are going to scare him into resisting the Mindflayer, making it less likely that he's going to upgrade to killing humans, i.e. the very thing the Mindflayer wants him to do?
None of that makes any damn sense...until we hit this last point:
Orderly Henry is known for giving inside information about "Papa" to El with no clear motive other than getting her to leave the lab.
Now, if you know my page then you know Em's been talking about double meanings in phrasing recently (see: this post about "who"s and "what"s).
So, with that in mind, I'd like you to chew on this:
"He's been telling us his plan this whole time." vs "He's been telling us His plan this whole time."
By which I mean: "He's been telling us some other man's plan this whole time."
[Mike voice] Superspy.
As a parting thought, I made it all into a nice, neat set of collages:
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Not to mention this final, parting bit:
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116 notes · View notes
stashandtell · 3 months ago
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Nobody Asked For This: My Rankings of the Hermione x Weasley Ships with REASONS
I drafted this weeks ago and had set it aside with no clear plan to publish it. Then, after a stroke of 2 AM genius this morning, I wrote a piece called Ranking the Weasleys, (to be posted on 19 Sept 2024 in honor of Hermione's birthday) and it seemed like a great time to finalize this post and share it. Feel free to tell me your rankings in the comments, be it your list of the fittest Weasley as you find them or your ranked-list of pairings with Weasleys, whatever you fancy to share. Enjoy! - - - - I made a loooong post with recs for each of my top Hermione/Weasley ships that you can check out here. Read Ranking the Weasleys or see the related post where I talk about writing Ranking the Weasleys and I share just a few initial thoughts on the fetishization of war wounds in the fandom here. - - - - I've recently dove into the world of Hermione x Any-Of-The-Weasley-Brothers pairings, which is what happens when you're burnt out on the regular ships you read and looking for something more. Personally, I'm surprised I gravitate towards so many Hermione-focused pairings, especially het pairings, but that's just what I've been into lately. I hadn't considered pairings with her and any of the Weasleys until someone recommended Charmione fics in a thread for Theomione. Once I dug into the fandom's characterizations of the Weasley brood and had a better sense of who each of them were on their own, I found I really like many of these ships, some more than others. The rankings of my top-three rotate pretty regularly depending on the last great fic I've devoured. This is a snapshot of where things stand today but it could move around. Before we dive in, I've preview my rankings and the major themes of the pairings in the most popular fics shipping Hermione with a Weasley. 1. Bill: Wolf-ish Daddy 2. Fred: Uplifting, Fun, and Romantic 3. Charlie: Sexy and Rugged 4. George: Growing Through Grief 5. Percy: Acceptance of Self, Also Rules Daddy 6. Ginny: A Firecracker and a Friend 7. Ron: Angsty Best Friends-to-Lovers 8. Gideon or Fabian: Time Travel AU or Ghost Lover(s) 9. Arthur or Molly: I haven't read these ships so they're going in the bottom of the list. I'm not opposed to reading these pairings but there's already such a trove with all the brothers in my tbr list that I'm not sure I'll ever dive in. 10. Weasley Progeny: I haven't read any of these ships. I have not read many pairings that include anyone dating their friends' kid in the next generation. (Though I have read a small number of fics pairing characters like Hermione or Ginny with older characters like Kingsley or Sirius...shoutout to the older/younger Nottcissa ship.) 11. Aunt Murial: Technically she's a Prewett but I think I would be into a Murmione ship if we got there. So far nothing comes up on AO3. - - - - 1. Billmione: What I love about a Hermione x Bill dynamic is his position as oldest-sibling and caretaker. If the author has resolved the relationship with Fleur as one that has ended in divorce or death, that extra element of emotional tenderness really can push the story to complex depths. I also find it interesting to see how writers engage with Bill's hybrid/half-werewolf affliction. I'm hard-pressed to really fall in love with any Billmione fic where their relationship starts pre-Battle of Hogwarts, though I do get it. I personally enjoy stories that can be canon compliant so I want to see how the Fleur issue is handled. I also find that with such a significant age-gap for that developmental stage of teenager-dom, (not like Fleur was THAT much older than Hermione but still...), it's incredibly rewarding to see an older Hermione that brings some kind of life experience to the relationship so she can be more equal with Bill.
In some of the fics, especially a few of the multi-Weasley, reverse-harem style pieces I've finally started reading, Bill's older-brother position and wolfy streak create the core dynamic of the group.
I'm not the biggest fan of the multi-Weasley pairings with Hermione but what I loved most in the standout fics are the group dynamics and individual roles that come out. Hermione can be incredibly stubborn and independent on her own and it's always interesting when she's in opposition to Bill to see how the others in their relationship choose sides.
- - - - 2. Fremione: On it's face, I don't even know if I like this ship all that much but I keep finding myself suckered in. I suspect a big part of it is that it hits me in the sentimental feels. My inner-teen just loves a Hermione x Fred story that traces their young love to whatever conclusion the author brings it to. Even if they get together when they're older and Fred lives through the final battle, they both usually end up with a friends-to-lovers scenario that's full of light sweetness and sometimes romance.
There are some truly fantastic works in this ship and I go 50/50 on whether I prefer ones where Fred lives or not. Depends on my mood and the tone of the story I suppose. There are very few stories in this pairing that I haven't enjoyed and the element of pranking really can make shorter fics fun.
I REALLY enjoy past Hermione/Fred relationships being included in fics where she looks back on their love fondly while she navigates new relationships, sometimes with one of his brothers. Fred is often portrayed as a goof, which seems to encourage authors to consistently write a more engaging and dynamic version of Hermione instead of following some of the fanon's (beloved by me as well) personality tropes/traps of her being insecure, slow-to-assert-herself, angry-broken-or-both and etc. His character brings out some of her best qualities consistently across fics, imo.
- - - - 3. Charmione: I quickly realized when I started reading Charmione fanfics that I do not give a shit about dragons but deeply wish I did. It's a cool plot device and part of the world to hang out with but it's not for me. Tons of appreciation for writers who have thoughtful plot lines and research interesting medical maladies-- but it's hard to hold my interest. (A million kudos when a dragon-centered fic does though!) The Reserve is usually full of original characters, which is fine, but I find myself less invested in the story if we don't know much about these OCs to build out that world.
I often find in the dragon-reserve heavy pieces that I was getting part-way through were objectively GOOD multi-chapters but I kept stalling out in favor of reading something else. Usually whenever there's a Hermione that ends up at the dragon Reserve, she's characterized by her unyielding passions for creatures' rights, spurred on by house elf and werewolf activism. Those are interesting characterizations for her but they just don't keep my attention. That said, I have yet, to date DNF'd any Charmione work so clearly it's not a huge imposition. That said, Charmione is in the top third because there's so much that can be done with this character. I've read a number of fics where Charlie is ace (asexual, demisexual, etc.); where's he's inexperienced because he's married to his job; where he's "too free-spirited" and very experienced; where he's enthusiastically bisexual; where he's not interested in marriage; where he's pining over Tonks; and so much more. His sporadic attendance at family holidays and the ability for Hermione or others to visit him on the Reserve lends to great plot opportunities.
- - - - 4. Geormione: I haven't been around long enough to fully understand why Fremione is a more popular ship than Geormione, but here are some observations: - Fred is portrayed in the fandom as the more loveable, airy goof while George tends to be painted as the more serious and quiet of the two - Generally, in the canon, Fred speaks more than George, from what I've been seeing, as I notate up my secondhand copies of the books - Fred's death or, depending on the fic, brush-with-death, is ripe for the reimagining of his relationships and personality - According to internet gossip, Hermione with Fred were considered for pairing in the canon originally but it didn't suit the overall plans for the series. Source for this can not be verified but it's come up in multiple places. I believe this contributes to the numbers: Fremione has 2182 works and Geormione has 548 works on AO3, as I draft this. All that said, George is usually characterized as the quieter and possibly more serious twin. He might be more shy than the outgoing Fred. Post-war, he often mourns the loss of his twin brother, his best friend, and his sense of himself as part of the pair which can, frankly, be kind of a drag if a writer is looking for a pairing to write a hot romance about. (Not that people can't be sexy or have healthy sexual relationships while grieving!) However, when works take the journey to establish Hermione and George, it's often incredibly rewarding. It tends to feel like Fremione with the temperature turned down on the lightness and has the ability to go deeper into any darkness that needs to be explored. I do love a Geormione but there are statistically fewer works out there than some of the other pairings, thus it's earned it's spot mid-tier. - - - - 5. Permione: There's not much to say because there aren't that many longer fics with this pairing written and most times it's tied to a Hermione x Multi-Weasley scenario. This gets the 5th and some days I would rank it higher because there are worlds in which this is the actual correct pairing of all of the brothers, based on what we can surmise from the canon.
A swotty, uptight prefect-turned-Ministry drone with a regretful heart of gold, Percy's guilt over abandoning his family and Fred dying before him is well-matched for how many writers imagine Hermione's coping with the aftermath of the war. Hermione would have known him during some prime formative years and knows he'll date muggle-born or half-blood witches, a la Penelope Clearwater. It's easy to dismiss Percy as being "not fanciable" if you don't read this ship but some of the writers out there make a compelling case for him, particularly when they make a logical transition from his personal fastidiousness to him seeking to play with control and BDSM elements in his private affairs. I love a good Permione piece. He's often positioned as the conservative punching bag of the family and it's a thing of art when a writer makes us root hard for him.
- - - - 6. Herminny: I haven't much of anything in this pairing yet. Truthfully, I've been holding off on it because I'm sure I'll do a deep dive once I start. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I've read almost no Harmony works either. I love a F/F fic but tend to read in waves and I've been working my way through the Weasley brothers pairings (when I'm not refreshing for Nevmione and Theomione works.) If you have any excellent recs for Herminny or other pairings name, please drop me a line! The reason Herminny is above Romione is because I love many of the fanon characterizations of Ginny in all the other fics I've read, especially when she's mischievous, cheeky, in tune with her sexuality, and ready to take on her own adventures in the world. The ones I have read where she and Hermione have been together were lovely but most were very short fics in collections. - - - - 7. Romione: I read A LOT of Hermione-centered works and authors very often find a need to resolve the young romance with Ron or use him and their relationship as a catalyst that propels our heroine down a path into the arms of another man. I can honestly say that I have read ZERO Romione endgame fics to date, and that includes one shots AND drabbles (~100k words or less.) WILD, right?
I really enjoy angst and Ron is one of the punching bags most often leaned on by writers. One of these days, I'm going to go on a Romione bender as an offering of penance to his character for all of the times I rooted against him in every other fic.
- - - - 8. Lowest Tier: I have never read a Hermione x Molly nor an Hermione x Arthur fic, and while I'm not fundamentally opposed, I'd be flabbergasted to find either pairing beating Romione. I'd much sooner read an Arthur/Molly fic than one that ships either with Hermione because that's just where I'm at right now. I'm happy reading works that aren't smutty in any way but damn if some smut doesn't help along a work that really isn't capturing my interest. While I love when I see versions of Arthur and Molly who are loving friends and/or parental figures to Hermione, the angst-lover in me doesn't mind a solid bashing of either of them and it's hard to get that out of my head. As for the other possible pairs with Hermione and Gideon, Fabian, Murial, or the children of the other Weasleys, I'm just not well-read enough in any of those pairings to have an opinion. I literally only started reading Marauders-era works two weeks ago (and really ONLY well-known Wolfstar fics so far.) A Note About Fleur: One character who's excluded from this list is Fleur Weasley nee' Delacour. I've only read triad- or multi-Weasley fics that put Hermione with her and Bill. While I do love a Bill/Fleur/Hermione work, it seemed disingenuous to rank Fleurmione against the others with what little I've read. That and I'm so clearly jazzed about a Billmione where Bill's free-and-clear to be with whoever, that my ranking of Fleurmione would be heavily biased.
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cafiffle · 7 months ago
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ok it's time to be cringe on main (like I ever wasn't)
in honor of the new game finally maybe happening, here is a collection of the Dragon Age OCs I've developed over the last decade or so. only two of them were my actual video game protags and have evolved a lot from there, SEE IF YOU CAN GUESS WHO (or don't, I'm not your dad)
(L to R, top to bottom)
Sina, Keeper's First of Clan Dahlasanor and baby lesbian who had to leave her clan in search of healing for the anime wasting sickness that claimed her life in her early twenties. She was all about that good good Dalish nature magic and thought of it as a sort of healing. A gentle soul with strong convictions, she spent her last months securing the union of her (small, decimated) clan with a larger, thriving one by marrying their male First.
Cade Harimann of Starkhaven, the second son of a noble family who gave him to the Chantry at a young age. He endured Some Bullshit at the monastery, leaving him already somewhat unhinged before he served in Kirkwall prior to the Mage-Templar war. He was kicked out of the Templars "for his own good" due to his massive PTSD-induced emotional problems, and now lives in the woods with his chill elf gf who doms him when he needs it.
Teren von Skraedder*, from a po-dunk town on the border of Nevarra and Orlais, is every bit the Grey Warden stereotype: a liar, a convict, and just generally kind of an asshole. She was recruited in her early 40's as an alternative to being executed for treason against the Nevarran crown, and has settled into Wardening over the last twenty or so years. She loves her younger siblings-in-arms, even if she's mean to them, and she gets a little more deranged every time one of them gets their Calling or dies in combat while she continues to grow older.
Benedict Quintus Artemaeus is an Altus mage from Minrathous who preferred to spend his days getting high and fooling around with other rich boys, shirking his studies and the politics of his Magister mother, nearly into his twenties. He finally had to get serious when his tutor aligned with the Venatori and got them both captured by The Enemy (the canon good guys), leading to a rocky but gradual ascent from hedonistic fuckup to Sort of Competent Guy Who Cares Occasionally. he's been compared to Emperor Kuzco and that's not inaccurate ok
Josephine "Fifi" Mariette* is a regular ol elf from Val Royeaux who, after failing to make it in the city ballet/opera/ye olde whatever, made her way as a cabaret dancer and prostitute until her marriage to a human accountant, Jacques. His family never accepted her, so when he was drafted and killed in the War of the Lions, she left town to briefly join the Freemen of the Dales. Finding that she was as invisible there as anywhere else, she opted to put her status to use and become a spy for (and on) the Good Guys while working as their housekeeper.
Obeisance "Just Barrow Please" Barrow*, a farmer's son from Crestwood, went off to join the Templar Order as a means of finding adventure, leaving home, and making his extremely religious parents happy without having to take over the farm. He served in the Jainen Circle for many years without incident, but very casually deserted when the Mage-Templar war began (hit da bricks, just walk out etc). He spent some time afterward as a mercenary, and his MO is to bop around being helpful where he can while also absolutely never talking about what he used to do. it's none of your business
*if you think you know her/him from somewhere else: you do, I recycle these shitheads constantly
there have been a few more but they didn't Take in the same way, so just these for now. ok byyyeee
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