#And listening to affected communities is what matters most right now

[royalarchivist]

Wilson took over Rubius' setup today and refused to let him move the camera, going so far as to grab his arm with his tiny little paws MULTIPLE times so Rubius would keep petting him 🥹💕

Wilson is my favorite streamer.

[walpu]

hii, first of all, sorry for my bad english

this may sound weird, but lately i've been thinking of aventurine turning in a cat. like, for some strange reason (maybe during a mission), he turned in a cute little cat. and since reader doesn't know he's a cat, he feels free to enjoy all reader's affection, and maybe to let his emotions win and cry while being caressed. and then he turns human and he's crying enough to fill a swimming pool. idk if i explained well :(

tysm, i love love love your works!! ❤︎

AWWW THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST and don't worry your English is perfectly fine! It's not my native language as well so I get the struggle tho

I love making my faves cry so there's a possibility that I've got a bit carried away lol

taking care of cat!Aventurine

edits by @keisieudeptry on twitter

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of cuddles, n̷̳͙͊͛õ̵̩͓ ̸̧͉̓b̶̳́̎e̵̖͋͊ṭ̴̩̔ȧ̵̪͚̕

Aventurine

Listen, he's always on alert okay. This man rarely allows himself to relax, especially when he's on another one of his business trips.

And he knows what to expect. Lies, attempts on his life, threats etc. He has seen it all.

But this. This. This is something new. Of course anything can happen when you're dealing with The Masked fools but this? Being turned into a cat? In what place this is even funny? It is kinda funny tho just not for Aven

He knows better than to panic. Yes, being turned into a tiny orange cat was not a part of his plans. Yes, this is probably the most defenseless and vulnerable state he's been in since his childhood. Yes, this sucks. But hey not like panicking will change anything.

Instead he just sits in the corner, feeling incredibly anxious and dreadful. His only hope is that this shapeshifting trick won't last for long.

A huge wave of relief washes over him when he sees a familiar person. And not just any person but you. The only person who can put his restless mind at ease, at least for a short time. He wouldn't mind seeing Topaz or Ratio too but it's much better when it's you.

He quickly realizes, however, that his joy was premature. He can't communicate with you! And you don't know that this is him! So the only thing poor Aven can do is follow you around and... meow. It's almost humiliating. Too bad he doesn't have time to care.

Soon enough you give up at finally pick up the oddly familiar cat. Every time you try to put the cat down it starts meowing and running after you so the only thing you can do is pick it up and carry around like a potato.

And you know how it is with cats, once you put your hands on one you can't stop petting it. You run your fingers through the cat's fur absently, while checking you phone for any messages from Aventurine. Hugging the cat, pressing your face to it's soft fur. Something about it surely reminds you of Aven. The thought, no matter how childish it is, brings a small smile on your face.

And poor, poor Aven. For so long he's been longing for your touch while laying awake at night, his poor heart flattered every time your fingers brushed against his. He wants wants wants to melt into your embrace yet this is not allowed for him.

How can he ask for it without exposing the deepest and darkest parts of his soul. How can he open his heart to you without reveling all the ugly, fragile parts.

He wants to be open with you, he really does. Yet it's so unreasonably hard. Would you kiss his head like you do now if you would know how empty he is inside? Would he be able to press his forehead into you palm, asking for more more more without feeling exposed?

In a way, it's good that right now he's in this form. He doesn't really have to think about anything, doesn't have to feel anxious about revealing too much. He can just enjoy in.

You two fall asleep just like that and he doesn't have to overthink, he can just crawl to you side, nuzzling up to you.

You can't help but notice that the kitten in your arms is trembling slightly. And when you pull it closer in order to provide some warmth and comfort it just purrs and meows pitifully. Almost like it's… crying.

Now listen. I'm 100% sure Aven is a light sleeper. So there's no way he won't wake up from a loud gasp and a lot of movements near him.

Well. Seems like the shapeshifting trick the masked fool pulled on him lasted only for 12 hours. And now he lays on the couch in his human form while you look at him with the wide eyes.

Awkward.

His initial reaction is to laugh it off. "Surprised, dear? It's a shame you can't see your own face right now ha ha". Would explain the whole situation, trying to make it seem like it was not a big deal. No mention of you cuddling session tho. Max he would say is "my, my, didn't know you where such a cat person".

However, his smile freezes immediately when you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Well. Here goes all of his feigned confidence.

Here is this feeling again. Your warmth, you scent, the comfort your touch brings. You telling how you started to get worried and how relieved you are that he didn't get hurt. It cuts so deep, makes him feel so exposed yet so needed. Loved even.

At first he doesn't even get it why your eyes get even wider, why a look so lost and worried all of the sudden. Only when your hands hesitantly cup his cheeks and you ask him what's wrong he realizes that there are tears in his eyes.

You know those tears when they just drop from your eyes and it's not like you're hysterical or crying uncontrollably but the tears just keep coming and coming and the more you try to calm down , the worse it gets? Yeah, him.

Would almost automatically tell you that everything is fine. When you confront him, pointing out that he's literally crying, will get even more confused than you. "Hah, seems like you're right, dear" he says with a small smile, giving up on the idea of hiding it from you. After all, it's too late for that anyway.

It feels... not even humiliating, no. It's weird, scary even, to be so open around someone. To be stripped of his mask so suddenly.

And yet he doesn't have time to care when your hands hold him oh so tenderly, when you cup his face and ask him what's wrong.

"Nothing, nothing, really. Just getting a bit sentimental here. Just... hold me like that for a bit more, 'kay?" he manages to whisper with a faint smile before pressing his face in the crook of your neck.

God feeling his tears on your skin feels so surreal. And heartbreaking too.

With each tender touch he gets even more emotional, to the point when he literally chokes on his own tears. Please hold him, run your fingers through his hair, kiss the top of his head.

He just doesn't get it, it feels so good to be held by you, why does his stupid heart hurts so much then?

Honestly he didn't cry for so long and there are so many repressed feelings, just let him let it all out.

He'll probably fall asleep in your arms, feeling very exhausted after the sudden emotional outburst. In the morning would act like nothing has happened, making some dismissing comments about him being a bit overdramatic last night. Don't let him withdraw into himself but don't push him to open up too much as well.

Just touch him more often from now on, especially when he looks like he had a bad day. And eventually he'll turn into your lap cat, reaching out for your warmth himself with or without reason.

"You're being clingy again" "Am not <З" all while sitting on your lap.

You've domesticated him so good luck.

[arminsumi]

gojo feeling a bit down but being terrible at communicating it but you can tell because when he thinks your not looking he looks sad so ur just super affectionate with him without saying why and giving him all the love he needs 🥺

TWO DAYS IS TOO LONG.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: aaa this!! 😩 i hope u like what i did with it 💗

WARNINGS — fem reader, small bit of angst, pre-established relationship (married), if u saw an error then... no u didn't... 🥲

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

p.s. requests are open again sweeties! come say hi i would love to write for uuu!!

You're folding clothes into a suitcase in preparation for a business trip to Okinawa when your husband comes into the bedroom.

He lingers behind you with a solemn expression, hair brushing the top of the doorframe. If there's one thing he hates most, it's your business trips to Okinawa, because he can't ever tag along (and he's tried. He's clung to your leg at the airport before.)

It's just two days.

But those two days are two days too long for him. He watches you serenely packing your suitcase for a little while longer, his lips skewed into a sad curve, and then does what he always does when he's upset and slowly embraces your from behind.

"Angel." you jump a little. This man is as quiet and stealthy as a cat when he's sad. That's already a telling sign that he's upset — silence. Gojo Satoru is hardly a quiet man, especially around his wife.

"What's the matter?" you ask softly, still nimbly folding clothes with your hands. His arms vine around your tummy and he lowers his face to rest on your shoulder.

"Nothin'." he lies very unconvincingly. You can hear the lack of liveliness in his voice.

You turn around in his embrace. Lips still stuck in a sad curve, he looks down at you like a lost puppy. A tall, lanky, moody puppy of a man.

"C'mere." you beckon for him to lower himself into a kiss. He listens and when he feels the press of your lips, he melts like butter.

He licks his lips savoringly after you pull your face away. Feeling your hands cupping his cheeks is just what he needed right now.

"It's only for two days, Satoru. You're so dramatic." you tease.

He groans, "Two! Whole! Days! It annoys me. I wanna go with you so bad."

You tilt your head at him adoringly. Folding and packing has completely ceased, now you're giving full attention to your pouty husband and that makes him happy. He's relishing in it, bathing in the way you look at him with so much love.

"You know you can call me, right?" you tell him, calming his twittering nerves with each soothing touch across his shoulders and arms.

"But I want more than that. I want you right here." he groans and then does the most Gojo thing possible and purposefully topples his weight on you so you're pinned to the bed underneath him.

"S'toru, can't b-reathe!" you giggle shortly, feeling his body press to yours.

"I'm staying like this 'till the plane leaves 'n then you'll have to stay."

"You're ridiculous."

He smirks into your neck. "Call Nanami and tell him he's just gonna have to do all the work himself."

You laugh. Your husband rolls off to the side, realizing he's very slightly crushing you.

"So jealous." you remark. Gojo flares up defensively.

"I'm not jealous! — okay, a little — you know what yes! I am jealous! So fucking jealous."

You laugh again. He's furrowing his brows, clinging to your body like he does when he prepares to nap. A very cat-like posture. And then he paws for your attention.

"How did I marry such a damn goof." you tease.

"You married me because I'm a goof." he muttered.

"True. That was one of the first reasons I crushed on you."

His ears perked up. You'd began stroking your fingers through his hair, and he was relaxing against your body just soaking up the affection. "Oh really?" he smirks. "What were the other reasons, tell me."

You have to roll your eyes. He pesters you until you start telling him the long, long list of reasons why you fell in love with him. Gojo's smiling into your skin, happily listening and dozing off.

"Angel? Did you fall asleep? Of course you did." you sigh, looking at your half-filled suitcase and the clock; your plane was going to depart in an hour.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[loquaciousferret]

Heat Waves

Gif: @serenaxpedro

Summary: A heatwave and a broken air conditioning unit in the office leads to tensions running high between you and your partner, Javier Peña. What lengths will you consider going to, seeking relief?

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, no minors etc etc . fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in an office), maybe more, just please don’t read if you can be sensitive to any kinds of sexual content

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: credit to @tightjeansjavi for the prompt, this was delightful to write hehe

You check the wall thermometer again. The needle is creeping just above 30°. You groan loudly.

For a building full of people whose work visas list them as being employed in “Janitorial Services”, the US Embassy in Medellin had a shockingly poor maintenance and janitorial department.

The air conditioning had broken yesterday, towards the end of the work day. It was bearable because it was already beginning to cool down into the evening, but today, in the mid-day sun, in a July heatwave, it had been too much for most of your colleagues to bear.

Anyone who was able to work from home had scurried off with boxes of files to catch up on paperwork in their air conditioned apartments.

But you and Javi couldn’t move the entire wall of the office where you were mapping out trade routes, connections, linking suspects together and desperately trying to find a pattern that would let you understand where exactly the evidence was that you so desperately needed.

You had probably consumed your body-weight in water. You had already shed as many layers as possible. You had even removed your tights. All that was left was a tight skirt and a blouse that was sticking to your skin all over. Plastered to your lower back, your chest. Nothing was cooling you down.

“Are you evening listening to me?” Javi sighs.

Your gaze snaps up to him, he is watching you with an expression that is more defeated than irritated.

“I’m sorry Jav, can’t think straight. This fucking heat’s making me crazy.” You say sincerely.

“Yeah, you can say that again.” He responds sympathetically.

He wipes sweat from his brow.

“Just… take a break. G’nna go outside to smoke, hopefully catch a breeze.” He mutters.

As he leaves the room, a disturbing thought crosses your mind. The shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and his back muscles flexing as he reaches for the door handle makes you question… Is Javi attractive? Well, obviously, he is, to every other woman in Colombia. But is Javi attractive to you? Not up until now, his personality thoroughly put you off. But the way he looked from behind, even with those patches of sweat staining his shirt… or, maybe, especially with those patches of sweat…

“What the fuck.” You mutter.

This heat really is making you insane. You physically shake your head to try and rid yourself of the thought. Javier fucking Peña. Yeah right.

You return your focus to the document he was attempting to discuss with you before. It was a transcript of an intercepted communication, between two parties who you couldn’t understand a reasonable explanation for them now working together. The whole thing sent your head into a spin trying to piece it together.

You knew you were on the edge of a breakthrough. You could feel it. Javi knew it too, and you were both pushing each other to your limits. He was an excellent partner. His job was the only thing he cared about. That might be the only thing you and Javi had in common. As different as the two of you were, the job was where you found mutual respect, and that was all that mattered.

Heat creeped up your chest and around the back of your neck. It was practically choking, consuming every single sense and causing a layer of impenetrable fog to settle in your mind. Being off your game at a critical point in your investigation was less than optimal.

Javi entered again and you analysed his features. If the heat was affecting him as much as it was you, he was doing a good job at not showing it.

“How are you coping with this? I feel like I’m about to be swallowed by the sun.” You groan exaggeratedly.

“Grew up in Texas.” He shrugs.

“Really?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Is that surprising?”

“Yeah. I thought Southerners were gentlemen."

“Maybe I am.” He responds, holding a bottle of water to his forehead.

You scoff and then clear your throat. “Anyway, I’m reading this again. I can’t help but think this is a code name for some kind of object or thing, not a person. If it was a person they would have come up before now. There are only so many people that run in these circles, I just don’t think we could have missed someone this important.”

He tilts his head from side to side, considering your suggestion. As he does so, the tendons in his neck protrude and you see how his tanned skin sparkles as it glistens with sweat.

Finally, he responds, “Maybe. But for what? These guys aren’t geniuses. Think we can work out the code?”

“I don’t know.” You say. “Not any further forward on that part.”

You fan yourself with some scrap paper you have folded and concertinaed carefully. You throw your head back in your seat and sigh deeply.

When you sit back up and open your eyes again, you think you find Peña’s gaze trained on your chest, but he quickly looks away.

You feel yourself equally irritated and intrigued by his staring. You had never noticed him look at you like this before.

“Everything OK, Jav?” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah- Yeah. I’m good. Just- Yeah.” His eyes linger on yours for a moment and he runs his hand across his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat.

You both continue to work, but you feel his eyes continually flicking back to you, telling you he is not focussed either.

You feel as though the tension continues to build as you both try and work, and you want to tell yourself it’s not just because of the heat. But you are worried this is one-sided. Even if that would mean you were the only woman in Colombia Javi wasn’t interested in sleeping with.

As the day goes on, painfully slowly, you find yourself more and more distracted by his presence and frustrated with your lack of progress in your investigation.

You curse loudly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his gaze intense.

“I’m just… I’m so frustrated, Peña. I don’t know what to do about it.” You sigh.

“I’m sure I know how I could help you deal with it.” He says, with a glint in his eye.

You scowl at him. Now that had to have been intentional flirting.

“I feel like no matter what we do we are always running in circles chasing our own tails. How do they always stay one step ahead of us. Like you said, these guys aren’t geniuses.”

“Hey.” He says, his expression stern. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll get ‘em.”

“Every day that goes on we are losing more. I feel like I’ve already given all of myself and more to this investigation.”

He had closed the distance between you, and placed his hand over yours where you fiddled with your pen on the desk. The touch burned.

“Let me take your mind off it.” He says, something unfamiliar behind his eyes.

You ignore him, and slide the memo on your desk over towards him. “Can you assign someone else to the stakeout tomorrow. We have to be in for the meeting with-“

He cuts you off, grumbling, “You always use work talk to distract guys hitting on you?”

“Hitting on m- Jesus, Peña. The heat makin’ you fuckin’ stupid?” You shoot back.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. But he doesn’t step away from you.

“You believe in shitting where you eat?” You continue.

“Not usually. But I can see how frustrated you are. I’d be a bad partner to let you suffer like this.” He smirked.

You raise an eyebrow at him. You know the answer to your question but you want to hear him say it. “What are you suggesting?”

He leans in closer, “I’m suggesting I help you forget work a while, let me relieve some of your tension. Maybe it’ll force a breakthrough.”

“Yeah right.” You say. You turn to face him, looking for any sign in his dark eyes that he isn’t being serious in his proposition. Any sign of hesitation or doubt. Any sign that it is all some joke. But you don’t find it.

His moustache tickles as he whispers in your ear. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. “You know you want it. Let me help you.”

You want to say no, but your body betrays you as you find yourself being acted on by what seems like a magnetic force, drawing you closer to him.

You manage to produce one more protest, but it comes out weak, as though you are trying to convince yourself for a reason to say no. “That would be unprofessional.”

“Who’s gonna report us?” He taunts. “You?”

You find yourself shaking your head in response to his question, and he pounces on you, connecting his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

An oppressive heat continues to suffocate your body, but this one isn’t from the conditions in the office, this is a fire that is coming from within, a burning flame stoked by the attraction and desire that has come over the two of you.

You give in to the feeling of him as his hands roam all over you, unbuttoning your blouse hastily and discarding it. A mixture of excitement and guilt nags at you. This is your partner. This is wrong. And not just any partner, it’s Javier Peña. He has screwed at least half the women in Medellin. This is not how you should be behaving.

But at the same time, you can’t deny the intense chemistry between you in this moment. The way your desperation and hunger perfectly matches his. The way he whispers dirty words in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His cock is already straining against his tight jeans, and you reach a hand up to palm him through the denim.

He sighs at the feeling and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you up and guiding you to sit on the desk. A strong hand parts your thighs and creeps upwards, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. You moan into his mouth, and then blush, embarrassed by the affect his touches are having on you so quickly.

He continues to rub gently against the fabric and you reach towards him to release his belt buckle. You fumble with it and he pushes your hands away impatiently and takes it off himself, unzipping his jeans and taking out his erect cock.

He strokes himself a few times and you watch, transfixed, your breathing shallow.

He stops and gathers the hem of your skirt, pushing it up to your hips to release your thighs. He spreads you wide and pushes your underwear to the side, not bothering to remove it as he plunges two fingers inside you.

You gasp and he starts off with an already quick pace, hammering in and out of you and curling them inside you to reach the most pleasurable spots. It doesn’t take long until your legs are shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. You were already sweating from the heat but now you feel as though you are melting, struggling to catch your breath and releasing desperate whines of pleasure.

His thumb reaches up to rub your clit and you moan, “Javii-”

“You like that, huh?”

He attaches his lips to your neck, sucking lightly before moving down to the valley between your collarbones, licking up beads of salty sweat that have gathered there. He moans into your skin and the sound goes right through you, you twitch and start to feel an orgasm rising inside you.

“You gonna come for me before I even fuck you, huh?” He taunts, “More desperate than I thought.”

You ignore his cocky commentary and focus on the feeling of his hands on you. You can’t deny he is skilled and knows exactly the right pace and rhythm to bring you your release quickly.

The pressure on your clit increases and he rubs faster circles around it. Tension builds in your stomach.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp out.

His other hand has reached back to stroke his cock roughly, and he lets out small sounds of pleasure into your ear. You didn’t expect him to be this vocal but it turns you on.

Your pleasure is reaching its peak and he senses it too, toying with your clit unrelentingly as you writhe on the desk beneath him, the cool surface doing nothing to calm the heat inside you. Your legs tense up as your orgasm washes over you, you lose your stability and fall backwards atop the papers and documents strewn across the desk. Your back arches and his movements don’t slow down, unashamed cries of pleasure streaming from you as you ride out your orgasm.

He shifts slightly and there isn’t a moment of rest until he removes his fingers and replaces them with his hard cock. He plunges deep inside you on the first thrust, the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, almost driving you to overstimulation with your orgasm barely subsided.

He sets a punishing pace with his haps, snapping against you hard and fast, your cunt greedily clenching and tightening around him every single time he buries himself inside you.

“Feel so good. Don’t know why I waited this long.” He mutters.

You whine, unable to form a coherent response. One of his hands is squeezing at your chest and the other is gripping your hip, pulling you down on him harder to intensify the force of every single thrust.

He is everything you thought he would be, hungry and passionate and clearly practiced in the art of both giving and taking pleasure.

Your sounds echo around the room. Neither of you worry about this, knowing the office was nearly empty. Even then, your desire for him clouds your mind so far to the extent that you don’t think you would mind being caught anyway. It was worth the risk.

He takes both of your legs and manoeuvres you, bending them and lifting them up so they lazily rest against his shoulders. Thank god for yoga, you think.

The new position tightens you up and somehow allows him even deeper access. You moan shamelessly and he grunts with every single thrust. His pace is unrelenting and you feel him becoming more and more forceful with each one, chasing his climax.

“Can I come inside you?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You are unable to form words, you nod, your mouth hanging open but no sounds come out other than strangled gasps.

“Fuckkk.” He grunts, turned on even more at the prospect of filling you up and it sends him over the edge.

He spills into you, your name thrown in amongst the curses he mutters as he comes. He keeps a tight hold of you as he steadies his breathing.

Moments after he releases inside you, you feel the relief he had been promising. You close your eyes and let out a deep, contented sigh.

And then, suddenly, they fly open again.

“Move!” You almost yell, pushing his chest away from you.

“Move. I’ve got it.” He pulls himself away from you and you leap up, pulling your skirt back down. You grab a pen and begin scribbling frantic notes over the transcript.

“I’ve got it.” You repeat.

“Worked even better than I imagined.” He teased, smirking as he buttoned his jeans and re-fastened his belt before coming to join you and see the revelation you had come to.

“Good to know.” He adds, “Nice tactic for the future.”

You roll your eyes at him and thrust the paper towards him with satisfaction. He might be right, it might have been the sex that did the trick, but you would never admit it.

More Javier Peña oneshots:

Over and Done With | Partners | All Work, No Play | Little Games

[martiansodas-blog]

Talk me through it

Your sexual experiences were never a priority for your partners. They never even cared for you when it was over. When your friend Joel finds out, he wants to be the one to change that.

Joel Miller x reader

Contents: Smut, age gap, friends to lovers, huge praise kink, aftercare, fluff.

Authors note: My first fic in a few years

Your body in Jackson but your mind a million miles away, you were daydreaming about a man two decades your senior.

What did his hands feel like after a hard day of work? Coarse and dry most likely.

But we’re they gentle when they came in contact with someone else? When they were taking off someone’s clothes…

Snap out of it

He’s simply a regular at the bar. An acquaintance. And even that was pushing it. The only people he truly softened for was Ellie and Tommy.

You gaze at the clock : one hour left. The last hour is always the longest. Most customers had filtered out and you were cleaning with your coworker Amanda.

“How did your date go?” You asked

“Didn’t know if he was my type at first, but after he ate me out I decided he was.”

You tried to chuckle with her but your body cringed.

“You enjoy that?” You asked embarrassed.

It seemed like everyone liked it but you. Was there something wrong with you? Dumbfounded Amanda looked back at you.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know, receiving head is just…boring. It’s not painful, it’s not exciting, it’s just meh. I’d rather move on to the main event, ya know?”

Her expression didn’t change.

“What are you talking about!? Receiving is practically the only thing that makes being born female worth it.” You both laughed as you stood on your tip toes to put a glass away.

Your words made Joel’s whole body stiff.

One night with me. One night with me and I’ll give you the head you deserve. Stupid boys your age don’t know how to pleasure a woman.

He couldn’t say that tho, especially not in public. Hell go for something calmer.

“Maybe you just haven’t been with an experienced enough person.”

You jolt around in shock. You had no idea until now he was in the bar, let alone listening to your conversation.

“Um, yeah, maybe. It’s not a big deal for me.”

You shrugged the topic off and quickly turned around making yourself busy. You went beat red knowing the most attractive man in town heard about your sex life, or lack thereof.

It’s a big deal for me, you’re torturing me here.

Joel decided he shouldn’t say anything else and risk making you uncomfortable, it wasn’t his intention. Without saying another word he headed home.

“Maybe he’s right, maybe you should have a night with someone older.” Amanda said in a suggestive voice. When you laughed this time it was out of awkwardness.

“Good one, I don’t think so. Im not one for one night stands. Plus, in a commune this size, Ive had a good look around and haven’t been attracted to any guys.”

Lie.

You and Joel were on good terms. You don’t use the word ‘friends’ because Joel isn’t really friends with anyone. At least he wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t let his walls go down enough for that. But he does care about his inner circle and that’s obvious.

You could tell you were one of the people he softened for. Mainly it was Tommy and Ellie, but somehow you always managed sneak your way in there. Most of the reason being you were giving him drinks.

Your affection for him was one sided, but it didn’t matter. He was never going to find out. Your crush just gave you something to look forward to during work.

• • •

It’s an hour before closing and Joel had yet to come in. Odd. Maybe he was under the weather today.

Pulling you from your thoughts was the bell of the door opening.

Speak of the devil

“Hey! Was wondering when you’d show up.”

He smiled at you. Thats rare. He liked a little too much that you wanted to see him. He wanted to see you too, he just still not good at expressing his emotions and letting people in.

“Whiskey?” You assumed.

“Actually, I was thinking of not drinking here tonight.”

The smirk on his face showed that he had a plan but you couldn’t figure out what in the world it was.

Why would he come to a bar if he wasn’t going to drink?

“How about I be the bartender for once. I hope that’s not forward of me to ask, but would you like to come by my place after your shift? If you’re too tired I understand-“

“Yes that sounds great, yes.” You could hear your smile in your voice.

“Alright then, peach. You know which house is mine. See ya then.” He got up and walked away.

Peach. He’d never called you that before.

Yes, you did know which house Joel lived in, but you’ve never been in it. You wondered what kind of decorations he hung up. Did it smell like him? You could barely stand still the remainder of your shift.

You have to put away your school girl crush.

• • •

As soon as it hit the hour you threw off your apron and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

You wished makeup survived the apocalypse, just a little to make your eyes pop.

What are you doing? He’s not your boyfriend.

You really must stop letting your mind wander. You ran your fingers through your hair and tried to get the smell of spilt beer off you. You don’t know what to expect. You’ve never hung out with Joel like this.

A few minutes later you’re knocking on his door. Nearly vibrating with nerves.

He opens it and

God

There’s that enchanting smile again.

It’s contagious. For a few seconds you two just gaze at each other with grins.

“Hey” you said shyly

“Glad you came, come on in.”

He opened the door as far as it went and you stepped in.

Definitely Joel Millers place.

Not much decorations, but his presence is here. Things Ellie has made for him hung around the living room. Things that survived of his from before the apocalypse. It felt homey. It felt safe.

He led the two of you into the living room. When your legs hit the couch you let out a sigh.

There were already two cold beers and glasses of water on the coffee table in front of you. Normally you don’t like to drink because you’re around it almost everyday and the smell gets annoying. But with Joel it seemed fun.

You both picked up your bottles and instead of making small talk or clinking the drinks together, you just nodded at each other and sipped.

Oh wow, this was actually kind of good. Where did he get this from? You groaned as it warmed your body.

“Haven’t been able to rest that much today. Work was busy. This is nice, Miller.”

He shifted closer to you. Closer than a acquaintance would normally sit. Not that you’re offended, you almost feel flattered. Joel speaks in actions.

“As long as you don’t go tellin people I’m nice.” He joked

“I like nice Joel.” Your voice wasn’t light anymore. “I hope I get to see more of him.”

You knew once those words came out of your mouth that they pushed a boundary. It’s a miracle anyone in this type of world is nice. It’s not an expectation you have anymore.

Your sentence didn’t seem to bother him, though. He stared at you for a few beats. He scooted once again until your knees touched. You’d never been this close to him, it was making your face get hot.

You both seem to have fallen into a comfortable silence, studying each other. There are details on his face you’ve never seen before. He pulled off facial hair like no other. His beard a mix of white, gray and brown.

You don’t know how long it stayed like this, but when you looked up at him to feel out the situation, he wasn’t looking back at you.

He was looking at your lips. You assumed they were dry or you had something on them. Instinctively you licked them.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whispered.

Your heart stopped.

“What?”

Instead of answering he put his hands on each side of your face. You made eye contact and thought you must be dreaming.

I’ve had dreams of him before, this must be another one.

But no. You can smell the drink he had and feel his big hands.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. You didn’t need time to think.

“Yes.”

In milliseconds your lips touched.

If this is a dream I never want to wake up.

The kiss starts gentle. Feather light. Sweet. Your noses bumping into each other. Not at all what you expected from Joel Miller.

You press your face into his to make the kiss more intense, but he puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you where he can be tender.

You pull away. Both taking a moment to process.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t want him. Especially after that kiss.

“I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

He breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Any nerves or unfamiliarity between you two is gone.

“Com’ere”

Now you’re both giggling and hugging. So happy that feelings have been confessed.

Your head nuzzled into his neck gave the perfect opportunity to whisper in his ear.

“You’re not going to break me. I want you to kiss me like I’m not delicate.”

Something snapped in him.

Maybe it was your warm breath on his ear, maybe it was that you were close enough to straddling him but not there yet. Maybe it’s because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, no, on earth.

He grabs your face with more force this time. Kissing you aggressively. You enjoyed how his fingers dug into your jaw. You gasped and he took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours.

He grabbed your legs and settled you over him. It was obvious he was strong but goddamn. He lifted a fully grown woman like it was nothing. It made a fire start in your lower belly.

“I need you. I need you right here on this couch.”

You didn’t respond. Too drunk on him already. You knew once his cock touched you there’d be no thoughts left in your brain.

He chuckled at your state, snapping his fingers to get your attention.

“Sweetheart are you with me?”

“Yeah sorry, I just can’t believe I’m doing this with you. You’ve already made me feel better than any guys I’ve been on dates with and-” your words got muffled by you taking off your shirt. You went braless today.

Now Joel was the speechless one. Staring at your chest. Running his hands up and down your sides.

She isn’t real. She can’t be.

“You’re so … beautiful. Now I really can’t wait, darlin.”

With the same urgency as before he picks you up and laid you out on the couch. Kissing your stomach, not giving you time to process.

He continues kissing down your body while unbuttoning your jeans. He rips them off along with your underwear in one motion.

Jesus, fuck.

“You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you babe?”

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

He lets out a noise that can best be described as feral.

“But, um, you don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal to me.”

The man looked up at your from between your thighs.

“Will you let me have a taste? If you say stop, I’ll stop.”

“…Okay.”

“Mmm, let me show you how a real man makes you feel.”

All apprehension and doubts you had floated away. Joel licked up both sides of your folds slowly, and you swore you could cum right then.

Your core fluttered around nothing. You needed it again and again and again. He was taking his time with you. Mapping your body out. His tongue making sure to know every inch of you.

The deeper his tongue went, the more your body relaxed. You don’t think it has ever relaxed this much.

The house filled with sinful noises. Your moans, him lapping against you, the couch cousins being gripped.

When he groaned it sent vibrations through your whole body, pushing you closer to the edge.

He went back to licking you from bottom to top. Flattening his tongue as much as possible. Leaving a kiss on your clit before going to the other side.

I love it when he does that. God.

He started to pick up his pace. Inserting his tongue as deep as it goes. Eating you out like a starved man. And he was. You were his new favorite meal. He’s perfectly fine with not getting laid tonight and doing this instead.

“Fuck please- ohh-”

He loves that he can make you sound like that. It makes his cock beg to get out of his pants.

“Joel,” you whimpered out, grabbing his hair.

“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me. You’re the sweetest fuckin thing.”

His words were sweet but his tone was filthy. It made your back arch. He knew you were close. He kicked it up a notch and inserted a finger in you.

You gasped at the size and feel. You could finally clench around something and your body was so happy.

“Fuck it feels so good! I’m close.”

I know you are

“You’re doing so good.”

He added a finger and moved them in a come hither motion.

You were done for. His calloused hands bringing you to release. He kept pumping in and out of you, getting all he could of your liquid. When he saw you regaining your breathing he removed his hand.

Laying there for a few minutes with half lidded eyes, you felt like you were on drugs. You were trying to find your composure but your body wouldn’t stop tingling.

The man who just gave you your best orgasm crawls up and appears in your view.

“Hey there sweetheart.”

He has the biggest smirk on his face, arms on either side of you. You don’t care. You’d give everything up if it meant you’d get more of his talent in your future.

“That was incredible.” You exhale

“For me, too.”

In what was becoming classic Joel Miller fashion, he presses the gentlest of kisses to your lips, then rests his forehead against yours.

“Did I wear you out?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I have a lot planned.”

You bite your lip in anticipation.

“Oh yeah, cowboy?”

He liked the nickname.

“Yeah, but I prefer to fuck my pretty lady on my bed.”

With that he stood up and carried you bridal style to his room. It was darker in there with one orange lamp on which made the mood even more sensual. He placed you on his bed and resumed the position he was in before.

“I’m gonna make sure you feel me tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You let out a whimper. Crashing into another kiss.

It was his turn to take off clothes.

You hastily unbuttoned his flannel and threw it across the room. He would laugh at your urgency if he wasn’t just as bad.

You smooth your hand over his new bare skin. Soft with scars. You reached his belt and he pushed your hands away to do it himself. Taking the belt then his jeans off much faster than you could’ve.

You stared at his outline, unable to mask your expression. You can tell he’s big without even seeing it yet. By the smirk on his face, he knows it too. You were really boosting his ego tonight.

“You gonna gawk all night or should I take it out?”

Fuchsia creeping onto your cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve been with anyone your caliber before.” You say meekly, still looking at his clothed cock.

He bring his face right above yours and tilts your chin so your eyes meet.

“Sweet girl, I’ll be gentle. I’ll start slow for you.”

You’re reassured. You feel safe with him.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He brings his lips to meet yours once more. Not breaking it while he tugs off his boxers.

Your breath quickens as you get nervous again. He immediately takes notice and strokes your cheek. Caring about you in every touch.

You feel the head of his cock meet your entrance. Your head falls back against the pillows. He takes this as a sign to push in a few inches deeper.

“That’s my girl.”

Your gasps like angels singing. Your legs squeezing around me because you need more.

Joel goes like this for several minutes. Pushing in, letting you adjust, making sure he doesn’t immediately cum, then pushing again.

You needed movement. Unable to control the pleas that left your mouth.

“Joel, fuck me. I can take it. Stretch me out.”

He can’t say no to you. Especially when you’re like this.

He pulls almost completely out of you then slams back in. Going from 0 to 100. His tip touching your cervix.

He was reaching depths of you no man ever had before. You couldn’t help but be loud.

“I know baby, I know. Let it all out.”

His words made you moan even more. You’re so turned on it got caught in your throat. No one had ever talked you through it before. No one had said such dirty things to you while making you feel this good. No one has made you feel as good as you deserved.

“So good. So good for me.”

You were so wet it was seeping out of you and onto the sheets. You’ve had the briefest feel of him and are already addicted. You rolled your hips into him and hooked your legs around his waist. Instantly he groaned at the feeling.

“Just like that baby, there you go.” His low voice registered in your ear. You always admired the sound of his voice but you never thought it’d be praising you. It was a fucking drug.

He kissed you hard on the mouth and it made the little bit of your body you had control over go limp. He took this opportunity to take your hands and pin them together above your head. It turned you on so much, your back began to arch. Anyone within a ten mile radius would be able to hear you.

Joel had to focus to get a complete sentence out because of how tight you were clenched around him.

“You sound so good. I love hearing how I make my girl feel. You’re so spent on my cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Of course you are. Never truly been taken care of, have you?

“N-No.” you whimpered.

“Think you can take more of me, sweet thing?” He let your hands go so he could caress your cheek.

You were nervous but you nodded.

“Good girl.” He smirked at you when he said it. He loved how much power he had over you.

He grabs your legs and put them over his shoulder. With intense speed starts fucking you again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pulled obscene noises from your mouth.

“Oh god oh god”

“That’s my girl. I love being buried in your perfect cunt.”

Your back was arching, your fists were gripping the sheets and your clit was throbbing. Your orgasm was nearing quickly.

Your moans got higher and closer together as your legs squeezed around him.

“Words baby, use your words.”

“Fuck, I’m close. Oh I’m close, oh Joel please. It feels so fucking good.”

He knew exactly what you needed. He circled your clit with his rough thumb and continued to thrust into you hard.

“Good girl, cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

“Oh god oh god-”

You came harder than you ever have before. Leaving a mess on and beneath you. Your ears have a light ringing in them and you were seeing stars. You couldn’t even register if Joel was still near you until you felt a warm washcloth bringing you back to reality.

You opened your eyes and saw him. Someone you knew now you couldn’t live without.

He delicately rubbed one of your legs with one hand and cleaned you up with the other. Making sure you wouldn’t be uncomfortable if you fell asleep right there, which after that experience, was likely.

His actions are a huge juxtaposition to his reputation. He is not stoic and harsh and self centered. He is caring and affectionate and thoughtful.

You smiled up at him while half asleep.

“Thank you.” You managed to choke out. Your voice was half gone.

“Of course, darlin. It’s only the decent thing to do.”

He tossed the cloth on the floor and placed a soft blanket under where you both came. He’d wash the sheets later.

“No guy I’ve been with has really given me aftercare before…”

For some reason saying that was more venerable than the act you just did with him. Your face feels hot.

“You deserve so much more than what’s been given to you. And I don’t just mean with sex.”

You knew if either of you said much else you’d burst into tears. You made grabby hands at him and the two of you fell into a warm cuddle, touching as much of each others skin as possible.

“Goodnight, cowboy.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Goodnight, peach.”

[honeyswriting]

Remattra and zenyatta relationship prompts!

~Gender neutral~

Relationship prompts of the brothers with a s/o!

NSFW WARNING (you can read past these :)

I tried my best lol very little proof reading

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

Remattra

Remattra was never open to the idea of relationships

Realistically, he's probably never even been in one and if he has, it didn't last very long

His thoughts on humans and the unfair treatment of omnics has made it his top priority. It was the only thing he thought about.

With mondatta though, you were one of the very few humanoids that gained his respect.

You helped give a blueprint of the omnic anatomy and helped fix viruses in omnics and helped replace parts on them. Not to mention, you also persisted protesting for omnic peace.

While he was still learning about the iris he was confused why you where there. Sure, humans have said they agreed with peace for omnics, but action was more his style of work. he never bothered to listen to other humans but you spiked his curiosity.

He ended up talking with you. You explained that no matter the being we are meant to stick together and help each other. Which lead to more questions.

Sooner or later you both became comfortable with each other, leading to poking his glass and asking him questions.

He became vulnerable, and explained how he felt his existence was only meant for war and would only been seen as a war machine. He wanted to be something more then just a omnic made for war. But he wasn't afraid to utilize what humans created about him.

You comforted him, explaining that he is an example of going against the system and that he was his own being, and more then just a war machine. How his wants are admirable. You held him gently as he rested his forehead against your right shoulder and you rubbed the back of his neck.

You constantly reminded him he was okay when he experienced anxiety, you made him comfortable when he was in doubt.

This gave the omnic male conflicted feelings. He never felt affection but the fact a human as you actually exists in a world full of hate and the ability to make him feel things he didn't know existed it confused him.

It took him awhile to tell you his "weird feelings", but you explained that it's called affection and it's something even other omnics have experienced, relating to some of the protestors with similar relationships. (It didn't hit you till after you explained it all that he was admitting he had a crush on you even if he didn't outright say it was about you.)

You guys kept your relationship discrete (AT FIRST) You and him both agreed to a private relationship to explore these feelings because you both are obviously closer then friends right now.

He slowly became more open to the thought of certain people knowing about you both dating. He just wasn't entirely ready for that information being released since the public knew of his history and didn't want to seem hypocritical and to protect you from harm's way. (Sombra blackmail)

When anyone seemed to have any amount of interest in you he would do his best to passive aggressively scare them into staying away from you.

Remattra likes it when he can hold you in his lap. It makes him feel prideful that he can protect you as you rest in his arms.

He has a possession issue. He has to know you are okay at all times.

Whenever you couldnt sleep you request for him to come and lay with you, and each time he doesn't protest

He likes to hold your face by gently placing his palms on both sides of it and placing his forehead on yours. That was his way of giving you a kiss.

His love languages is acts of service and communication.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW BELOW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When it came to becoming more intimate for the first time, ramattra was more curious and dominant to learn than seduced. He wanted to learn what made you tick, what made you moan out his name the most.

You explained how his voice flustered you at times and it gave him something to think about.

After you told him about your infatuation of his voice he would make sure you would hear anything he said suggestively.

He liked seeing your back bare towards him as he rails you. He'd press his hands on your upper back and push you down closer to the bed. It was something about the way your back was molded and shaped that really got him going, but he always made sure you where okay with any poses that involved you looking away during his love making.

Something he learned that he likes when you both are intimate is him being able to hold you up against him.

When he became more confident he was very dominant. He likes seeing you vulnerable to him and sensitive to his touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zenyatta

Zenyatta never minded relationships at all! He saw how it proves omnics and people can live and love together as one.

He explained and shared with you people that don't understand something will misjudge it and it's just something that happens

He really liked your discussions on the omnics peace rallys. He could talk with you all day if he could and would patiently wait for you if you had to go somewhere.

He noticed how you would come sit with him or be by him without even saying anything. It made him proud you felt safe around him

When you both started becoming closer you both where inseparable. Both of you would lean on each other gradually getting closer and closer.

Zenyatta didn't mind people knowing his love for you. It was pretty instant what he knew he was feeling towards you and was very quick to make a plan to tell you.

He loved getting attention from you. He was pretty strong for his smaller build from his brother, but he could carry you while flying with no problem. He could hold you in his lap as long as you needed.

His love languages often consist of words of affirmation and physical touch.

He LOVES cuddling. It was much more comfortable due to him liking to wear softer and padded pants and he would wear sweatpants to bed whenever you both shared one.

In bed he doesn't sleep but if you had a bad day he would stroke your back as you slept on your stomach. And if you didn't like sleeping on your stomach would spoon you, or hold you to his chest and stroke your back from there.

Zenyatta isn't a jealous type, but if people pushed their boundaries with you he would protect you in a heartbeat. He takes pride in you so when people compliment you he's happy.

He gave great advice. Though sometimes it can become confusing sense he likes to use haikus.

He liked feeling you kiss his faceplate. His favorite thing is when you kiss the lights on his forehead though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW BELOW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zenyatta was surprisingly an experienced first timer for anything like this. Whenever it comes down to it he is definitely a lot more sensitive and can feel quite alot.

He talks you through it. Tells you how beautiful you are or how good you feel against him.

His favorite thing about you is your legs. He will run your legs up and down and see how far you can stretch.

Usually he's very sweet and goes slow for you. But when he is really going he wants to serve you until you physically see stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~££££END££££~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[bloggingboutburgers]

I admire you so much for being able to share your experiences as an aro ace. It’s so funny, because most of my community knows I’m aro ace, but like, I’m so scared of sharing my personal experience and I think it’s because of how much it hurts to think of that part of my life.

The number of years I spent thinking I was broken because I didn’t feel any kind of attraction to others, forcing myself to date in the hopes that it would “just click” like people kept telling me, getting stressed and mentally distraught when I tried to force myself to show any sort of affection… It’s a hard thing for me to relive a lot of that. I very distinctly remember trying to kiss a guy I was dating that I didn’t want to kiss, but felt I needed to. I spiraled into such a bad panic attack that I drove two hours in a terrible blizzard just so I could get back home to what I felt was a safe place.

I think the hardest part for me was people not understanding my aro ace-ness. The difficulties of simply having a male friend around and having to listen to people constantly ask me if I have a crush on them, then acting as if I’m being coy when I say no (even though there’s no indication of that in my voice). I started dreading inviting my friend to events for that specific reason.

When I did try to date, all it did was add more stress to my life. I was constantly expected to be spending every free moment I had with these guys, and I didn’t want to do that. I don’t think it clicked with my family until I broke down in a hysterical sob one day because of how much guilt-tripping was being done to me when I told them I didn’t want to hang out with him.

And the icing on the cake… the number of times I’ve been told to find a partner because “they don’t want me to reach 50 and be alone and miserable.” To be told that romance is the only way you’ll find true happiness… it’s painful. To be told that the things that bring you joy are not true happiness, that your platonic relationships mean nothing in the grand scheme of things… it hurts far more than anyone realizes.

I should probably stop here, ‘cause I’m getting all choked up, but I guess the bottom line is, thank you so much for sharing your experience and making me feel validated. It means so much to me. Keep being awesome, my friend 💕

I'm so sorry for all the hardships... I recognize myself so much in a lot of what you're sharing. I hate in particular that people act like "ending up alone and miserable" is 100% on you, like THEY don't have a say in that and a role to play in that and they're not basically actively contributing to that alienation RIGHT NOW. If people cared about anything beyond a sexual or romantic partner and kids, if people remembered that friendship is a thing and it's a thing that oughta matter, that would solve the problem much better than forcing everyone to conform against their will.

The only reason I feel comfortable enough to say I'm aroace at this point is because one day when I was 21, a girl I told it to just replied "Oh, okay", which was the first time in my life I ever got a reply like this and not a slew of questions or dismissal. That made my brain explode. In a good way. I'll always be grateful for her, she probably will never know how much. She opened up the door for me to be vocal about myself more confidently and build the invaluable support system of friends, and my partner, and my family, that I have today, and that in turn works as a virtuous circle.

And the only reason I feel comfortable sharing it in the form of comics now is because I did once in 2022 during asexual awareness week just to try some vent art for fun, and people didn't ignore it, or didn't dismiss it, but actually reacted positively to it. That encouraged me to make more. The reason I'm this comfortable and vocal about it online today is thanks to you guys here reading this. Having a positive reaction to what IS pretty much vent art disguised as comedy also shows me I'm not alone. This whole thing is mutual. So thank YOU, and thanks to anyone reading my stuff, for also making me feel validated.

[writerthatcannotwrite]

TROP SEASON FINALE SPOILERS!!!!!

Elrond, my baby, my little guy, my poor soul.

DWARF RANT:

King Durin, may you rest in the Halls of Aule with honor.

I've seen a common theme in this series: people who had lost their minds, but found them in the last moment of shocking clarity that was (almost) their last noble act.

Celebrimbor, cutting off his thumb to escape (Which was very "I'm honoring my Uncle Maedhros" core, which I very much appreciate) and saying, "Whose will is the mightier?"

I can go on another rant about that phrase and the implications, but that was last episode.

King Durin III awoke the balrog, literally Durin's Bane.

Prince Durin and Disa's kiss was iconic, fyi.

Prince Durin tried so hard to help his father, but in the end, he couldn't stop him. Well, he alone couldn't stop his father; what truly set King Durin over the edge was the knowledge that his son might die. King Durin saw the balrog, something that he had willingly called forth, and went, "Holy shit, get the boy OUT". And how did King Durin get his boy out of the balrog's fire? He sacrificed himself.

Throughout this entire season, I have seen nothing but poor parenting from King Durin; he never listened to his son's advice; he literally shoved him away, and into a wall (My first thought was, "CHILD ABUSE!!! CHILD ABUSE!!!! GO GET DWARF DFCS!!!"). But here, we see the true affection King Durin had for his son.

The cataclysm that brought King Durin clarity was not anything his son could have done by himself, but the knowledge that his son was helpless. King Durin was not going to let his son suffer something of his own making, so he charged the balrog.

And then died.

HUMAN RANT:

Okay, so Kemen (I finally learned his name, unfortunately) needs to get off of his swampy ass and tumble into a grave. It'd be so simple; Isildur just needs to *grab by lapels* *shift three spaces to the right* *drop in hole*. Simple! Easy solution! Would the Valar be very happy? Probably not, but hey! We'd get rid of Kemen!

And I do appreciate Earien's technically treasonous act for her father; by now, she is a pretty prominent figure in Numenorean politics; the right hand of the king's right hand.

And you know what confused me?

The way Pharazon---I'm not calling him Ar-Pharazon, he doesn't deserve that---gathered up all of the RELIGIOUS LEADERS of the Faithful and said, "Yeah, sorry you're conspiring with Sauron, aka the DEVIL so you and all of the Faithful are to be arrested. Sorry."

One of the main things that always strikes a cord for me is religious freedom; when these wrongs are shown in this show, it makes me SO angry, because people should be able to practice their faith freely, regardless of whatever religion the government favors.

The sacking of Nienna's temple, the prosecution of the Faithful in earlier episodes, and now the legit imprisoning of people who are Faithful.

Recently, I have been reading "The Crucible" in class, and we have been discussing the causes and effects of mass hysteria, one of the contributing factors of the Salem Witch Hunts. I feel like there might be bought of mass hysteria going around Numenor now; the king/queen-ship is a major dispute, the Faithful are being arrested, major political and social leaders of the community have been imprisoned. People can likely accuse others of being Faithful (Even if they aren't) because of petty rivalries. In the Crucible, Mr. Putnam accused George Jacobs, his neighbor who had lots of land, of witchcraft, so that he would be able to purchase his land.

How many people in Numenor would face a similar dilemma?

Would Mr. Smith the Sailor accuse Mrs. Johnson the Tailor of being an Elf-Friend because her tapestries looked a little too much like those of Vaire? But it doesn't matter that Mrs. Johnson's only daughter is of marriageable age and Mr. Smith has had his eye on her. But who would be watching that if Mrs. Johnson was an Elf-Friend?

All of these factors are the most basic ingredient for a good ol' bought of mass hysteria; my English teacher doesn't watch this show, but I'm tempted to tell her the similarities.

then, to Isildur.

I thought Theo and Isildur's hug was very nice.

Theo was like, "Ah, yes, I shall bid my friend farewell after discussing the traumatic deaths of our mothers. I wish him well!"

And Isildur's like, "Why is the kid who hated me yesterday wanting a hug???"

I always got bad vibes from Estrid. I get swearing servitude to Adar in exchange for your life, I get that, but.

I never felt comfortable with her and Isildur's relationship. I get that she wasn't able to decipher her feelings for Hagen, her betrothed, until she met Isildur, but seriously. I also know that Isildur has an "unnamed wife" (SCREW THE NOT NAMING OF FEMALE CHARACTERS IT MAKES ME ANGRY), so I know he's gonna get somebody EVENTUALLY, and before Numenor sinks.

But then, Isildur and Estrid started MAKING OUT in Theo's kitchen. Like, bro. THAT'S NOT YOUR HOUSE!!!! Do that ELSEWHERE!!!!! Better yet, don't even do it!

And then, that slimy bitch Kemen had to stroll up, all, "Yeah, we'll put the watchtower there, knock down a few houses to do it." And then, he tries to be all buddy-buddy with Isildur, who obviously realizes that something is a bit off.

Then, Kemen drops the ball, saying that his father is wanted for treason, Queen Miriel is no longer queen, and "low men" are not allowed in Numenor.

First off: very classist of you, go kill yourself, Kemen.

Second off: Isildur learns that the woman he saved from the fire is no longer queen; is he thinking that his sacrifice, everything that he's endured in Middle Earth, has been for naught?

Third off: Kemen mentioned Earien. Does Isildur know that his sister has gotten a little racist in his absence? How will he react to seeing his sister betray their entire family by literally trying to put them all in prison (Anarion, Elendil, AND Isildur)?

Kinda happy that Estrid wasn't going to Numenor. Don't like the circumstances, but I'm glad that she isn't going.

I also think that Earien is coming to her senses; she might not have wanted Miriel on the throne, but now, Pharazon's tyranny is affecting HER. HER family is being prosecuted. HER father is wanted for "treason". HER people are at risk. Earien is getting a rude awakening to this thing.

I also think that its interesting how that guard left when Earien told him to; it shows how people in power are STILL defying the law in Numenor, all because, "Oh, she knows the king's son."

Of course, Earien did this for a good reason, but it still demonstrates the corruption of Numenor's political system.

Then, Miriel and Elendil. As I was watching this my mom, I was like, "Hey, do you ship it?" and she was like, "Oh, yeah" and I was like, "Good, my assumptions are not unfounded."

So yeah, Anarion, Isildur, and Earien are going to be getting a step-mom, good for them!!

What messed me up was when Miriel was like, "No Elendil, you must go, I will stay." Like Elendil (And us) were under the impression that she would remain with the Faithful; Elendil draped the cloak over her shoulders and she didn't flinch, she listened to his plan, but when the time came to make the decision she stayed. Frankly, I don't understand WHY, but go off girlie, I guess.

ELVES:

Okay, so Galadriel getting the refugees out of Eregion, I really liked; in cannon, Galadriel and many of Eregion's fled Eregion and headed south. Then, Galadriel gave up the Nine to save the refugees (Iconic, Queen Behavior), and we see Adar, leaning against a fallen tree. Is he injured? Is he hiding? Has his hand been conveniently cut off by some guy on an eagle? What happened?

After dismissing the orcs, Adar turns around. At first, I didn't see any difference (I'm not very observant, sometimes, alright?), until I looked a little closer. His face was no longer scared and burned; his hair seemed thicker, cleaner; he looked less gaunt. The ring had healed him.

And then, Galadriel asked for his name, but he evaded the question, like a little BITCH.

"Adar was the name I chose for myself" blah, blah, blah, bah, JUST SAY MAKALAURE YOU IDIOT!!! Sure, there are some details in cannon that don't line up (Maglor wasn't strung up on Thangorodrim, Maedhros was) but here's the thing: not only has trop changed a few things, it made some things more accessible.

In trop, Elrond and Elros were found by Galadriel after the Third Kinslaying, not the sons of Feanor. Celebrimbor was supposed to be tortured for TWO YEARS before his death. Celeborn is still supposed to be present.

I also have a cannon-probable idea for Maglor being Adar; in Maglor's trauma and grief at loosing his last and first brother, could he have not clung to his brother, in all aspects? Maglor may have curated this story of hanging from a cliff because that's what happened to his brother, that idea is what keeps him close. The things about being with the orcs and Sauron, I can't really explain for this idea. That's just about as far as I got.

But Adar WILLINGLY returned the ring to Galadriel, proving that he truly meant to defeat Sauron with elven help. But then, there is an injured Uruk nearby, and Adar goes to help; he might not even be able to heal him, but he will be with that Uruk in his last moments.

And then.

The Uruk, Glug, I think? leapt up and stabbed him. All of the others followed suit. It was a mirror to Sauron's own death in the first episode: betrayed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed---

You get the gist.

By the end, Adar is well and truly gone. He raises his hand to touch one of the orcs, his children, and calls them such, but the orc stabs him again, one, final time.

The entire situation is disheartening; sure Adar might have been willing to risk his "children" in his hunt for revenge against Sauron, but he cared about them, well and truly. In exchange, the orcs killed him for his kindness.

In the end, I really do want to know who Adar was before his chaining to a mountain. Did he have a family? People he loved? He must have come from Cuivienen, so he probably did.

I also wonder where he would go after death. Now that his hroa (Physical body) is well and truly... extinguished, where will his fea (Spirit) go? Do orcish fear (Spirit, plural) go to the Halls of Mandos, or somewhere else?

Adar looked vaguely elven; he could walk in sunlight, unlike his children. I feel like he should go to the Halls of Mandos; he did many terrible things, but were they not in the pursuit of good?

Then, Celebrimbor's death (These are not in the order of the scenes, just what I remember).

We see streaks of blood on stone floor, and we know something has happened.

Then, there's Celebrimbor, BEING USED AS TARGET PRACTICE, with arrows in his arms. Sauron stand over him, grim, and he wants to know where the rings are. They bicker and banter, there's some (un)healthy badinage, and Sauron STILL says that Celebrimbor's pain is HIS fault, that Celebrimbor brought this upon himself. Even though Celebrimbor is well and truly destroyed, Sauron STILL wants to have Celebrimbor guilt-ridden and full of self-loathing. It sickens me.

And then, Celebrimbor has something to say. He says, "forsee", and Sauron stops. I doubt Celebrimbor has had many visions of foresight, but the line of Finwe is not without them; did Miriel not have a vision of foresight to name her son Feanaro? Was Galadriel not gifted in seeing versions of the future? So it is possible, especially since Celebrimbor is SPOT ON. It WILL be one ring that brings about Sauron's downfall, and Sauron will fall. Sauron realizes this, and runs him through with a spear. Celebrimbor is lifted onto the pillar (Which is what I think we're going to get as the Celebrimbanner, unfortunately; I would have loved to see his cannonical death) and finally dies.

Then, Galadriel and Sauron's duel. Sauron turns into different people to try and fool Galadriel, but by now, she is used to trickery. He turns into puppy-dog-eyed Halbrand (Annatar was literally just Halbrand in a heat-damaged wig and shaved, Celebrimbor should have seen that IMMEDIATELY). Then, he's Galadriel herself, depicting her darkest, most evil deeds and desires. Then, Celebrimbor, mocking her for her retreat. Franky, I thought he was going to be Finrod as well, but alas, it was not so.

And then, he stabbed her with the crown (rude) and Galadriel, salty to the last, PRETENDED to give Sauron the ring. Very slowly, just to watch the pride and greed flash in his eyes, and then, "If I can't have it, then neither can you." Not what she said, but what she MEANT.

And girlie does and Elwing. Too many people in season two have dove off of cliffs; Elrond failed to beat the mama's boy allegations by jumping off a cliff with an object of power (In this case, three). And I was wondering if these guys actually thought that Ulmo was gonna come in clutch and turn them into birds. I mean, he did it for Elwing, so why not her son? Why not some other random person jumping off of a cliff?

In the end, Gil-Galad approaches (I'll get to that part in the beginning with Gilly and Elrond, hold on) and knows that Galadriel cannot be healed. She has the Second Age equivalent of a Morgul wound. It festers with dark magic and cannot be healed.

But who do they have?

THE healer!

The top dog of his graduation class from Lindon's School of Magical and Physical Healing!! Elrond Peredhel Earendilion whatever other name you give him! He's THE healer! Just standing there!

So of course, Mr. Healer is all dramatic, like, "No, we can heal her" through the power of friendship of course, and perhaps these magical rings.

I do think it's interesting how the rings will heal scarring and a Morgul wound; I think they only heal physical wounds, not those done to the spirit (Fea).

And then, we appear in a grassy, bright area, with Gil-Galad watching over Galadriel. He says that it is safe, a sanctuary made by the rings. This is, of course, the beginnings of Imladris, Rivendell, the Last Homely House. In cannon, Elrond and refugees of Eregion fled north, and founded Rivendell.

The river down the center HAS to be the Anduin, I guarantee it.

When the offer of the sword or shield pops up, I though that Galadriel would choose the shield; after all, this series is basically about how Galadriel went from a brutish, hyper-angry, traumatized elleth to a proud, wise, kind Lady of Lothlorien. I thought she would choose the shield, protect what her people had lost so much of, but she remains silent. Gil-Galad chooses the sword.

That scene of the elves raising their fists in defiance felt odd to me; even the children were seen raising their hands. Elves reach their majority at approx. 100 years, so what are these children, who have never seen battle and bloodshed except for that day, doing, wanting to wage war? It reminds me of Feanor and the unrest of the Noldor; a people that knew no bloodshed, and in their innocence, went to their deaths. It worries me.

Alright, one of my favorite parts: Elrond and the Scrolls.

Elrond, Gil-Galad, and Arondir are brough to a city square and we see orcs piling scrolls to be burned. Elrond, who is obviously a scholar, I mean look at him, is outraged. Not only are these the last ties he has to his cousin Celebrimbor, they also hold invaluable scientific information; it's like destroying the elven version of the Library of Alexandria.

Then, my baby boy Gil-Galad is at sword-point (Very scary, but I know what his doom is so I wasn't THAT scared), and just barely saved. Ngl, I had thought Arondir had died in Episode 7, so it was good to see him still kicking!

My favorite parts were Celebrimbor and Annatar's scenes and Elrond's dismay at the scrolls. I would also like to say that I think Gil-Galad slayed in every scene he was in.

Well, then. I must go google when Season Three is expected to show up.

[mayasaurusss]

being brought into lottie’s intentional community as a dance teacher to give her acolytes expressive arts therapy but noticing she never participates in the classes…so you get her alone and try to convince her to let go and dance with you

"Why do you never attend my dance classes?"

A gasp leaves Lottie and she puts a hand on her heart after you almost give her a heart attack. Lottie feels her blod run cold at your words, the shame of begin found out running through her veins, "I...uhm".

Months passed since you've been hired at Lottie's wellness centre. She had emailed you late at night, having seen your announcment online for your dance course. "Everyone needs to loose up a bit here" she wrote, "and I am sure this would be a great opportuinty for you too". Lottie had offered a great deal to you, paying you more than the course ever could and gave you a roof to sleep under. The lessons had started with the coming of spring and many had attended them. The first time the room in which you taught was overcrowded with people and you had to ask Lottie permission to teach outside. The dances ranged from quick to slow, from energetic to calm.

Many had loved your approach to teaching and came to attend your lessons regularly, hoping to blow off some steam or aimed to occupy their minds with joy. But not Lottie.

You adore Lottie. She's nice, calm, lovley and funny and you always love to spend time with her. But as the months grew colder so did her affection towards you. No matter how many times you asked, Lottie never came to your lessons. "It will be fun!" you say, but she quickly denies with the most unreasonables of excuses, "N-No I need to go buy heliotrope paint. For uhm, painting the crates...".

It's obvious that Lottie is avoiding you. You don't know why, you don't know how, but you sure as hell will find out.

You approached her at the end of the day. She had just ended one of her seminars and you had finished teaching hours ago. The room is dark except for a single light that shines down on where Lottie is gathering her things before heading out.

"So, why don't you?" Lottie gets increasly more uncomfortable as you repeat yourself, a thin tear of sweat falling from her temple. "Uh, I, you know I have been so busy recently...".

"Bullshit!" you shout at her, making her ears hurt and reel back, "I know you aren't! 'I need to go buy heliotrope paint for painting the crates' my ass! Those things have been left to rot for months now and just as I ask you to join my classess, you've suddenly got interested in them?!".

What you don't know is that for the last months, Lottie's been falling in love with you. It wasn't like that at first. She simply saw you as an employer, as a coworker, as a person and now as someone she falled deeply in love with. Her feelings were small at first, as they usually are. A little nod here, a small smile there and a little ache in her heart, as if it was pierced by a spine.

Then that wound got bigger: as the smiles and looks grew so did that warm feeling in her heart, so much that it pained her. When Lottie understood where her feelings came from, she got scared. She hadn't allowed herself to truly feel anything ever since she got back and to do so now would be childish. So she hides it.

She doesn't look at you, she doesn't talk to you, both in fear that wound of hers gets bigger and to see the hurt in your eyes. That is until you personally confront her.

"So, Lottie? Has the cat eaten your tongue?" that accusatory tone of yours only serves to make her blood run colder and colder. "Or do you simply not like me?" she can feel how hurt you are and an instinct inside her screams to confort you, to held you in her arms, to kis-.

"No, no! I swear it's not what it looks like" she begs for you to listen to her, for you to just let her-. "Then what is the problem, Lottie?" she can't find the right words, can't find the stenght to be thrutful to herself and you. So she lies, "I..." "I can't dance" she knows that the words come out wrong, a hint in her voice suggests that she's lying.

"What?" both you and her know that the conversation you're about to have is fake, built on her lie, but you let her speak. "I can't dance and I am embarassed to do so" she looks away from you so she can't see the doubt in your eyes. Lottie is about to walk away when you give your hand to hers.

"Take my hand" she looks at your palm for a moment, before asking, "W-What?" it's like her brain can't understand what's happening.

You try to send the message by moving your hand in front of her eyes, then sigh and taking it yourself. "Just...just shut up and take it" Lottie moves and now you grip at both her hands. Despite her towering over you, she's putty in your hands.

"So just follow my example, alright?" it takes Lottie a moment to understand what you mean, but once she feels you move she copies you, unsure of how to.

"One foot in front of the other" she is clumsy, hands shivering and feet twitching, the emotion of begin so close to you getting to her heart. "Alright, you're doing good" you try to reassure her but Lottie is lost in that world of hers, the one where nothing is real and it is still with her. She tries to remember what her therapist once said: 'You have to br-'

'There is nothing else besides you' your voice calls from the end of the room, people surrounding and listening to you. 'There is just you and your human emotions. Let go of anything that scares and worries you' for a moment Lottie's eyes look into yours and it's just the two of you alone. 'Be yourself'.

Something moves in Lottie's heart and all the worry and fear is washed away. Now she's the one leading the dance, strong but fair hands guiding you through the space. There is only you and her, dancing to a silent waltz in an empty room. The dance gets more heated by the minute, everything moves and sings and suddenly, it all stops.

Lottie arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your hand in hers. During the dance your bodies moved closer and closer, until you can feel her breath on your lips. "Lottie, I..." she interrupts you abruptly, harsh brown eyes staring into yours, "I lied".

"Y-you do seem to know how to dance after all..." but your joke doesn't reach her ears, "I think... I didn't want you to know". Words don't come out easy and a small feeling of panic rises in her heart, but she remembers your words 'Be yourself'.

"I think I am in love with you" you smile gently at her, enough to make everything else fade, "I know".

[undead-supernova]

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

And All at Once / Masterlist

Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

plot: your first song about Eddie is about to drop, leaving you nervous about how he'll react

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: a very real conversation about drug addiction and familial death, smoking

wc: 5k

The guy on the screen was uncanny.

         “It's very, very special. Because if you can see, the numbers all go to 11. Look, right across the board. 11, 11, 11, 11."

         "And most of these amps go up to 10."

It was one of the band members of the fake band Spinal Tap, clad in a black cut-off tee with a neon green print of a ribcage. Black jeans. Shaggy brown hair with bangs. A cigarette hanging from his mouth. Surrounded by a dozen guitars.

It was as if Eddie had been cloned with a hair straightener.

“You look just like that,” you murmured, glancing over at him.

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look at you. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” you argued. “You wear the tightest leather pants I’ve ever seen. And that shirt? The cig?”

         "...you're on 10 on your guitar. Where can you go from there? Where?"

         "I don't know."

         "Nowhere. Exactly."

“Yeah, but I don’t think I look like that.”

“Maybe not, but you do look like that. And you act like them, too. Don’t make me pull up Wayne’s World either.”

         “Why don't you just make 10 louder, and make 10 be the top number, and make that a little louder."

         "These go to 11."

He burst into laughter. Whether it was at you or the joke on the screen, you couldn’t tell. But it didn’t matter to you. His wild laugh was, to put it simply, everything.

“Okay, maybe I do.”

You loved him.

God, you loved him so damn much and you wanted to tell him over and over again. Drown him in your love and affection, get your sticky, glittery goo smeared all over his tattooed arms. Spread it all over him so that he never went a day without it.

But you stayed quiet in loving him despite being on his arm. Despite the photos and the TikTok stitches and the Instagram reels. The Tumblr communities that speculated what you talked about and how you would navigate arguments based off your respective star signs. But never once did you tell him that you loved him. 

It was obvious. Maybe it didn’t need to be said.        

Even if your new single was going to drop in the next few weeks and it was absolutely, positively about how much you fucking loved him.

Eddie had begged you to let him listen to it, but you were too scared. It was a pop song for Christ’s sake, and you didn’t want him to think it was cheesy or stupid or, you know, not good. You’d caught him listening to your music sometimes, so you knew he didn’t hate your sound. But there was always that possibility…

It was on your mind tonight while watching This Is…Spinal Tap on his couch, Oz and Puppet curled into each other on the other side. You leaned further into his side; legs pressed up to your chest. A fuzzy black blanket draped over you. 

“Tell me something true?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you looked at Eddie. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Why are you so scared about me hearing your song?”

You grew bashful. “Well, I mean… It’s about you.”

“And?”

“Well, what if you don’t think the lyrics are good? Or, like, you hate the music? Or you get embarrassed because of how bad it is?”

Eddie snorted. “Are you really that worried?”

“It’s not like it’s a ballad,” you explained, picking your nails under the blanket. “It’s like a fast-paced pop song. I mean, it’s literally called ‘Okay, Now Stop!’ It has an exclamation point at the end.” He chuckled. “The lyrics are very pointed but also vague, and I didn’t know if that would be okay, but now I can’t really change it. And I know it’s not the most poetic thing I’ve ever written. The label really wanted it to be the first single, but I’m nowhere near being done with the album—" 

Eddie interrupted you with a kiss, pulling your chin towards him with his pointer finger and thumb. You lost all sense of insecurity as he deepened it gently, basically swapping saliva as he nearly devoured your mouth.

When he finally pulled back, he gave you a swift peck. “I honestly don’t mind. I know you’re worried that we’ll cause more commotion, but this is your art, you know? You get to say what you want to say and it’s not your responsibility to tell people to butt the hell out and just enjoy the song. And if it’s fun, the lyrics don’t need to be poetic. Cut yourself some slack, sweetheart.” You nodded, knowing he was right. “When did you write it?”

“I wrote it around the time we first started running around.”

You weren’t expecting to see him smirk. “Oh, really?”

“It’s fun,” you said, more confident now. “I like dancing to it.”

“Then I’ll be there dancing with you.”

“I think I’d like that,” you said.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie chased your lips again, hands moving of their own volition. And though the night was spent in pleasure, you were still stuck on this idea of failure. Not just from the fear of Eddie’s opinion, but the opinion of the world. And you knew, knew that you weren’t supposed to care. You weren’t supposed to let this stuff get to you anymore after almost losing him. 

And that’s how the guilt settled in your stomach at three in the morning. Because you knew that you still cared. Maybe you would always care.

It was strange, having everyone over at your hidden house.

Usually, it was empty, save for Eddie and Scott. An oasis to escape to whenever there was too much noise. However, tonight was too special, with your entire team and Corroded Coffin there. Even Becky, Este, and Mary had flown in for the special occasion despite finals coming up in the next few weeks. And they didn’t complain about it once, just excited that they got to see you. You could reciprocate the sentiment ten times over. 

Your lavish living room was decked out in decorations, pink and holographic silver streamers galore. Balloons getting tossed around and popped every so often. Grant and Jeff had provided the refreshments, supplying any empty space in the kitchen with liquor, beer, and mixers. Clara had gotten your favorite local restaurant in the city to cater for the evening, even going so far as to bring it all herself to uphold your privacy.  

Your last two albums played over the speakers despite your protests. Eddie had egged it on, poking your sides and telling you how much he loved everything you made. How you deserved to be celebrated, no matter how cliché it was. How you should be proud of your past as it was a part of your future. In the end, you knew he was right.

Everyone was dressed casually, your boyfriend wearing a beat-up Iron Maiden t-shirt with dark jeans and mismatched socks. Everyone’s heavy jackets sat near the back door just in case the party moved. It was November, after all. You’d tried to be just as casual, with a white long-sleeved crop top and jeans. For the first time in a while, you weren’t self-conscious about how different you both looked. If anything, it made you smile that much more.

And Eddie made it a point to move the furniture so the room could turn into a big dance floor, spinning you around to your own music as the night continued. “I’ll take that,” he’d say randomly, taking your drink and placing it on any stable surface before dragging you to dance.

“This is one of my favorites,” he’d add, but you couldn’t help but think he was lying after the third time. 

You were a chaotic pair, bumping hips and swing dancing as awfully as you could at the groans and protests of Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Ronnie. In the end, they all joined in—Eddie just had to threaten demolish them in their campaign first. Then they suddenly had the urge to congregate and make fools of themselves. 

When you weren’t dancing, Eddie was still all over you, always touching you in some way. Stroking your back, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you spoke to his band. Your friends. Your entire team. Even Scott, which you thought was brave. 

He did it all and whenever you had a pause, his lips littered kisses on your cheeks.

It was still something to get used to. Because though the past stayed in the past, it was a rather usual feeling to be left to your own devices without your partner. Only a hidden shadow in the dark. They came to your events, sure. But they never came close for too long, always aware of pictures and gossip. You were the secret they were too ashamed to keep.

Eddie wanted nothing from you except to be yours.

And you couldn’t thank him enough for it.

“I think you should put it on now,” Este suggested, thirty minutes from the release. You tried to hide your smile. “It’s only fair.”

Clara shook her head. “Nope. No way.”

“Ah, come on,” Eddie said with a playful grin. “Don’t be a grinch! Especially this close to December.”

You giggled, detangling yourself from Eddie to approach her. Clasping your hands together, you mustered up the softest pout that you could. “Let me give everyone an exclusive.” Batting your eyes, you added, “Pretty please?”

Clara gave you a hard stare, clearly calculating whatever risk she saw before sighing. “Fine, but if something goes wrong, you’re to blame!”

Everyone cheered as you skipped over to your phone sitting on your bookshelf, still connected up to the speaker. Pausing the current song, you turned to face everyone.

“Okay! So, before I start this, I want to thank everyone for being here. It’s really lovely to see all the people I adore in one room. It’s an early Christmas miracle.” Your friends giggled. “And I know this is just the first single and we still have an album to finish, but the music I’m writing now,” your eyes flickered to Eddie before looking away, “is maybe the most important writing I’ve ever done. And I can’t wait for what comes next.” 

“A toast,” Eddie called out, causing all eyes to fall on him. “to one of the most talented women to ever walk the earth.” 

Murmurs of agreement sounded from the rest of the party. You bit your lip, trying not to let those flutters in your stomach overwhelm you. And as everyone took a sip, your eyes met Eddie’s, watching as he nodded at you. His smile emitted pride, raising his glass to you before sending a quick wink.

You nodded before pressing play and skipping back over to Eddie’s side.

The song started with you clearing your throat and saying, 

         “Okay, my pretty boy...now move!"

A trumpet wailed before the drums kicked in and the electronics filled the soundscape, an Eighties-inspired beat enveloping the room. Becky, Este, and Mary squealed and started dancing. You couldn’t help but giggle and move your shoulders to the beat.

You deliberately avoided Eddie’s gaze on you at the sound of you calling him a pretty boy. You knew you’d be too embarrassed. And though he didn’t try to directly catch your attention, you could tell he liked it by the way he squeezed your hand. Hopefully he’d keep that sentiment.

         “Would it be crazy to say how deeply I'm into you?

         Would you promise no games, 'cause I always lose."

You continued to feel Eddie’s stare, finally turning your head to find him raising his eyebrows at you. With a quick shrug, feigning nonchalance and secrecy, you decided to sway your hips along to the beat. You hadn’t been kidding when you said you loved dancing to it. 

         “Every day looked the same as the ones before.

         But you nursed your whiskey and said you wanted more."

As the beat built up and dropped into the chorus, you saw smiles on every face. Eddie was even tapping his foot along to the beat, every so often bumping into you on purpose. You held back your laughter.

         “Okay, now stop! Hear me knock!

         There's no hotel room I couldn't find my way into.

         Okay, now stop! Hear the clock!

         We're wasting time, here's to another long goodbye."

When you looked behind you, you noticed Gareth starting to head bang, giving you a thumbs up as the song hit a small instrumental. Ronnie was nodding along, something you didn’t expect. Past him, you noticed Scott watching you with a fond smile on his face. You returned it, sending him an air kiss. 

         “If this is fate, I confess to you that I don't mind.

         And if I ask for something true then please don't lie.

         Can you tell that I miss you whenever I'm away?

         There's only so much time, who knows what can change."

By the time the bridge came, some had latched onto singing along with the lyrics. You’d even caught Eddie trying to learn the melody immediately. It felt good, like all the worry you’d had before was washing away. You’d made this, confident in its production. You never needed to worry because you were proud of it. Sometimes you just forgot where you put your confidence.

“This is my favorite part,” you said quietly to Eddie, nudging him as it began.

         “Hey there! I confess! That there is now an Angel in my bed.

         Hey there! I confess! That I'm the Devil waiting in our bed.

         Okay, now stop!

         We're dancing dirty to The Beatles and the Stones.

         Okay, now stop!

         You're dancing pretty asking me to lead you home."

You put your fingers up, turning to Eddie and pointing to him. There’s a pause in the song before you scream,

         "And I DO!"

Everyone started whooping, the entire house shaking with the bass and the many bodies now dancing along to something you created. You got the same feeling as you did when you toured, always able to feed off the excitement of the audience. The energy, the rush of adrenaline.

It was as electric as Eddie’s touch on your waistline, aggressively nuzzling his face into your neck. It was as addicting as his presence, breath continuing to wash over your skin and into your lungs. 

It felt like magic.

“Baby,” Eddie whispered in your ear as you continued to sway. “I like it.”

You stopped, softening at his statement. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. It’s cute and fun.” He kissed your ear. “I know every little thing you’re talking about. It’s actually kinda hot.”

“Even if it sounds desperate?” you wondered.

He shook his head into your neck once more before pulling back. “As if I wasn’t.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You sure never acted like it.”

He shrugged, taking a step back before he moved some of his hair behind his ear. “Well, I had to keep my rizz intact.”

You couldn’t help but lightly smack his stomach, watching as he pretended to take a blow and almost fall over.

“I hate that you said that.”

“You love it,” he whispered, grabbing and pulling you back into his arms. You couldn’t help but laugh when he pretended to bite your neck.

“This is so good!” Jeff exclaimed as the song ended, interrupting your light bickering. You freed yourself from Eddie before hugging Jeff. “I just know the rest of the album is gonna go hard.”

“You think?”

Before he could respond, Scott was approaching you, a grin on his lips. He looked slightly cartoonish, his mustache lifting with his smile.

“Doin’ great, kiddo,” he said, patting your shoulder. “Doin’ great.”

Tears collected in your eyes at his words. Sniffling, you shook your head. “I bet you say that to everyone.”

“Not even close. You deserve it all,” he replied. “And I’m so proud of you for getting this far.”

In Scott’s face, you saw the beginning. When your father decided to treat you like a cash cow, Scott was there to treat you like a daughter. He kept you safe. But more than that, he was there when you needed him. He listened when you had to speak. Was there to cheer you on whenever you doubted yourself. Spoke up for you whenever anyone else doubted you. Made sure that no matter what, you had someone in your corner.

So, you pulled him into a tight hug. Buried your face into his shoulder as the world around you became a source of ease. There was nothing outside of this house tonight. No pictures. No receipts. No accusations. No need for armor. 

No, the rest of the world no longer existed. Not when everyone you held close was right there, living in this moment with you. 

“Why don’t we go out on the balcony?” Eddie asked, grabbing his jacket and your cardigan from the coat hanger.

You raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering around the room at everyone still dancing and drinking. It was midnight, but no one seemed to care. Least of all you and Eddie. 

“And leave the party?” you questioned.

“Yeah, come on,” he said, already starting to pull you towards the door. “I got a present for you.”

Something in you softened. “For me?”

And Eddie was damn near smirking as you pushed through the doors.

“Mhm. Come on, sweetheart.”

And so you did, draping the cardigan over your shoulders and slipping out the French doors. 

The balcony was something you’d spent real money on, always wanting something like it since you were a kid. There was the railing, all while Roman columns. The plotted flowers adorning every lining and every corner. The few benches overlooking the backyard. Land, with woods and everything, for as far as the eye could see. 

It was like your own little Victorian dream. 

Then there was the moon, waxing gibbous, high in the air and brighter here than anywhere else you’d ever been. Sometimes it reminded you of those trips you’d take to your grandparents’ house as a kid, far out in Nowhere, Tennessee. The extensive farmland, with lightning bugs and the low hum of crickets. The stars, the moon—so much closer and more tangible than you could ever fathom.

Though you couldn’t hear or really see anything like that here, it still felt like home to you. You made it feel like home.

“I know you don’t smoke as often as I do, but…” Eddie trailed, breaking the silence. He dipped into the front pocket of his jacket. “I made you something.”

You looked at him curiously as he placed something in your hand. It was a joint, but it wasn’t wrapped in normal paper. Was it even paper at all? In the low light, you noticed its maroon hue, the uneven texture.

“They’re rose petals,” he explained. “I actually made it myself. Pressed it and all that shit.”

You twirled it around in awe. The precision at which Eddie was able to roll a joint was astounding. Sure, it was due to years of practice, but it looked as clean as what you could find at any dispensary near your apartment in the city.

“I love it,” you said, biting your lip to hide your smile. Looking back into his eyes, you suppressed the urge to tell him just what else you loved.

And your pause did something to him, his eyebrow lifting as he waited for you to say something else. 

But you didn’t, the words lodging in your throat.

“Want me to light it?” he asked suddenly, shaking his head.

You peered at him curiously, wondering what he was thinking.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Once you’d gotten the smoke into your mouth, you could taste a slight tinge of something floral. It didn’t taste all that bad. Actually, it was nice. As you exhaled, you noticed the lack of a strong burn in your throat.

“That’s smooth,” you commented. “Did you use a fancy filter?”

“The fanciest.”

As you smoked, you leaned your head on his shoulder, breathing him in as much as you could. The high settled in soft and sweet, taking that high energy and molding it into something peaceful.

“Can I tell you something true?”

You nodded, leaning back. “Yeah, what is it?”

Eddie’s eyes met yours, all signs of humor fading from his face. “I’m really glad to have you in my life,” he said. His voice was lower now, more serious. Deliberate. “Everything is so shitty sometimes and having you through it all has been really…” he trailed, trying to find the right word before shrugging. “I don’t know. Just really something.”

“Me, too,” you said, your smile widening. “Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re not even listening to the world. And when you can’t avoid it, you’re able to just laugh at it. I haven’t seen someone do that before.”

“I just try not to take it all so seriously. If there’s three million people saying one thing but we're still living our lives, then eventually the joke is on them. Not us.” His smile returned then, just for you. “Plus, your laugh is just heavenly.”

“You really think so?” you asked, voice growing small.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I really do.” Eddie’s fingers cupped your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek. “With everything that I went through, with the drugs and Wayne and everything… I don’t know. It’s nice, not just to have a friend, but someone I can come home to and, like, cherish. You know?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “You never exactly told me how all of that happened.” Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “The drugs, I mean.”

He looked surprise, dropping his hand to take the joint from you. “Uh, shit. Well. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I do,” you said with a nod. “but only if you want to.”

“Are you sure? Tonight’s, like, your night.”

“And because it’s my night, I wanna hear about it.”

“Here, let me get another hit in before it gets all sad and shit.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re artists. We’re always sad.”

Eddie started laughing which resulted in him coughing out the smoke. You rubbed his back as he caught his breath again. “Yeah. Shit. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Satisfied?”

He nodded, taking another hit before he started. “I knew it was a fucking mistake when I did it. I really knew better. Gesturing towards the bench, you sat down next to one another. “Here, let’s sit down.”

Eddie handed you the joint before he kept going. “I didn’t have anyone there to tell me not to. I don’t blame the guys for using it recreationally. Once, twice—sure. Go ahead. But it’s when you start doing it a loooot more that gets a little tricky. 

“I thought I was smarter than addiction the second I caught my dad’s stash that first time after Mom passed,” he explained. “And, sure, I was smoking weed but that wasn’t a big deal. Weed’s great. Tried mushrooms and acid, sure. Molly once. What can I say? I have an open mind.” He gave you a small smile as you chuckled. “But then Grant said something at a party about trying coke together and I was like, ‘Sweet, let’s just try it once.’ And for Grant, that was true. But not me.

“Narrowly avoided it but, fuck. People just have it all the time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I haven’t tried it, but it’s been offered to me more times than I can count.”

“Bingo. Exactly.” He tapped your knee with his. It was only then that you noticed the other was bouncing. You couldn’t decipher whether it was from the cold or nerves. 

“I convinced Ronnie to have more parties so Grant could get us some more. But none of them wanted it, so I always took all of it. And I just convinced him that we needed it as a just in case thing.” A sigh left his lips. “That, uh, lasted for two years.”

Your eyes widened, watching as he grew crestfallen.

“Eddie…” you whispered. “That was after your uncle…”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Yeah, it stayed after Wayne passed. But, like, five months after coke made it worse, Grant and the others sat me down and told me that they were worried about me. Ronnie hit me in the face which was, yeah, deserved to say the least. I was acting like a prick, spinning lies about how Wayne passing couldn’t be related. That I was fine when I really wasn’t. Like, clearly I wasn’t, you know? I was using.” You nodded. “Anyways, they convinced me to try and get help.”

“What did they say?” you asked.

“Jeff told me that they decided to stop partying, or at least stop doing it almost every weekend. That from now on we take alone time or find something to do together and just chill. Turn off for a while. See if it helped. Solidarity.” He grinned, something you weren’t expecting, his eyes glazed over in a memory. “Gareth asked me if I still had any of my old D and D campaign notes. I did, do, in a very protected place. Laminated it myself when I got the funds. And Ronnie, well, she told me that they wanted to play again and that if I was coked up, I couldn’t DM. And no one questions if I should be a player or the DM.”

A smirk formed on his lips. “And you know that it meant something to me. Still does. And she told me that once I got out of rehab, I better have a killer campaign to play.” Growing somber again, he took your hand in his. “You know, James Hetfield struggled with a drinking problem for a long time. They called Metallica ‘Alcoholia’ instead ‘cause they got so fucked up on tour.” 

“I didn’t know that,” you admitted. “That’s awful.”

Eddie let out a laugh, but it wasn’t really a laugh. More like a scoff he was trying to cough out. “Sometimes,” he said. “I feel like such a fucking idiot, you know? The signs were there. The warnings. Everyone said it and I just…did it anyways. And I don’t wanna touch that shit again but, fuck.”

You thought back to your cousins, the twins who couldn’t make ends meet after your aunt passed away. They resorted to selling, nearly embarrassed to admit how much it helped them pay their bills. If they were eating, that was all that mattered. It was only when they started using the product that it became something else. When you’d gotten the money to do so, you made sure they each had their own house and paid any expenses for rehab. You couldn’t stand watching them go through something like that anymore. 

“Addiction is handed to people on a silver platter sometimes,” you said. “And you didn’t think doing it once would turn into a problem. I don’t think anyone does.” Lightly squeezing his hand, you added, “I think what the guys did was really awesome. They’re good for you.”

“Yeah, they’re amazing. Saved my life more than once, that’s for sure.”

Eddie grew quiet then, staring back out at the moonlight. The faint sound of “because i liked a boy” by Sabrina Carpenter could be heard beneath a high-pitched laugh, belonging to Mary no doubt. You and Eddie were somewhere else, blanketed by the promise of the truth. Freezing in the mid-November air, particularly brutal this year. But you two stayed there, too wrapped up in your shared words. Some part of you knew it was crazy, but you’d stay out there all night if he asked you to. 

“And, uh,” he started after a few minutes of silence. “I feel very grateful that I found you,” You tried to hide your smile but couldn’t. “Not to sound like I’m high while I’m high, but it just, like.” He shrugged. “Sometimes it feels like the planets and the fates and the stars just kinda align and suddenly you’re somewhere you never thought you’d be. For better or for worse. And I know that with you, it’s for better.”

Tears welled in your eyes, the weight of his words piercing your chest. “You just had to go and make me cry, didn’t you?”

“Crying’s good,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Enough with the sappy shit. Well, maybe there’s more.”

“What else could you possibly say that isn’t going to wreck me?”

“Well,” he started. “I wanted to invite you on a little trip.”

“Where?”

“Some island off the British Virgin Islands. The details are kinda hazy since Gareth sprung it on us, but we’ll be warm…” He pulled you closer. “We can go snorkeling or jet skiing or whale watching.” A kiss to your neck. “And we’ll have a lot of privacy to do whatever we want.”

“Are you trying to take me on a…ah, fuck…a fuck-cation?” you wondered, trying to keep your voice level. There were people just beyond the door after all. 

“It’s more than just that, sweetheart,” he said, pulling his head away. “I just want to spend some time with you outside of all these cities is all. We don’t have to run around or worry about any cameras. I made sure of that.”

“Did you drop money on something for once?” you asked.

Since getting to know Eddie, you found that he didn’t spend a ton of money all the time. Like you, he donated a lot of it and only spent real money on himself when it came to guitars and jewelry. Maybe a nice meal here and there. But besides that, he still frequented thrift stores and cooked his own food. Still kept a budget for expenses despite practically never needing one again. He’d told you that old habits die hard, and you couldn’t agree more.

A blush tinged his cheeks. “I might’ve.”

“When do we leave?” you asked.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, a smile already growing. “We leave in three days.”

“I think I could do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you stayed out there for another hour, quiet in your contentment. It was like you’d waited for something like this your entire life, always reaching towards something so pure. Your life felt like a series of endings, all hushed demolitions and bitterness tinging your skies. Now it felt as though this was the end to all the endings, a kingdom being rebuilt. And you didn’t mind to declare the man beside you the king.

I am including this amazing image that @strangergraphics designed for my fic (and she made the divider so full credit to her) of what the single would look like! Ugh, I love her. Anyways, here you go!

[scrollonso]

What are some of tour favourite headcanons about marcmarc. What's their dynamic like?

idk im rambling...

Even though they’re together, Marc and Marco always try to outdo each other, especially on the track because even though they love eachother, they're in motogp to race and their relationship isn't going to stop that. They push each other hard, which sometimes causes tension, but it also brings them closer. After tough races, they cool off together and respect that they both gave it their best.

They love joking around, making fun of each other in a friendly way. Marc might tease Marco about his hair, about his obsession with Rubik or constant need for physical touch, while Marco jokes about Marc being an old man and stuff im too lazy to figure out right now. Humor helps them keep things light and fun in contrast to how they are on track.

When it comes to feelings, they are each other's biggest support. Marc finds it hard to open up because Vale ruined like everything for him, but Marco makes him feel comfortable. Marco, in turn, feels safe with Marc, who has shown time and time again that he's always there for him.

Marc isn’t big on showing affection in public like Marco is, but in private, he’s more affectionate. He loves cuddling with Marco after a long day. Marco, who’s more open about his feelings, enjoys seeing this softer side of Marc because it's such a huge contrast from this insane bitchy 8 time world champion that Vale would talk shit about.

They love working out and practicing together. Marc sometimes gives Marco tips, but Marco always tries to prove he’s just as good. They admire each other’s skills, even if they act like they’re just messing around.

They respect each other a lot. Marc knows Marco is becoming a great rider, and Marco looks up to Marc’s achievements and he really always has despite trying to act like he couldn't give less of a shit about him. They balance their relationship with a respect for eachother’s careers.

Marco can get jealous if he thinks Marc is getting too close to someone else, especially a rival or an ex like Vale since now thar they've told Vale they're dating Marc has slowly been coming to the ranch more but Marco hates when he sees Vale talking to him alone because even if Marco is touchy with his friends Marc knows it's different than what him and Marco have while Marco is supper insecure. Marc finds it amusing but always makes sure Marco knows he’s the one who matters most.

Their most meaningful conversations happen late at night, after a race. Marco listens when Marc talks about his fears of staying on top, and Marc helps Marco stay grounded as he rises in the sport or at least tries to on the shitty bike.

They don’t always need words to communicate. A glance or a touch is enough for them to know what the other is thinking or feeling, making their bond even stronger and more genuine than Marc and Vale's ever was.

yeah idk im crazy

[sunnydayroleplay]

What is your headcanon on what Joseph Cullman was like before he was trying be a better person? Was he doing illegal activities or something bad? What was his day to day like as the old Joseph Cullman? What was the old Joseph Cullman like as a person and wat made Joseph want to be a better person?

Before I continue this head-cannon, yes I am back loves! And for good this time. It's been awhile, I've been super duper busy, but that's not gonna stop me from now on. I'll be posting on the weekends and the occasional Friday! (Or whenever I feel like it during the week) Thanks for the continuous support despite all that!! Now with that said...

Contents Inside: Joseph Cullman, Mentions of Drug/Substance Abuse, Alcohol, Child Abuse, and other sensitive topics.

18- DNI, this is a NSFW post and so is the game it is based off of. This is an 18+ community. It is for your own safety, and you interacting not only jeopardizes that, it jeopardizes mine, and the creators of the games.

---------------------------------------------------------

From what we can interpret in the video tapes of his interview, we learn that he was a "rebellious" child in his high-school years. Getting a tattoo, a few for that matter that are rather obviously large. It'd be surprising if his parents didn't notice a thing.

But before we can ask why that is, we have the question of:

Why is Joseph so rebellious and reckless in the first place?

Any good ol' fashioned Southern American family would teach their children some common manners, right? Or despite the undertones of possible racism and homophobia that were very common and still undergoing a "wipe-out" in a time where that would occur, children were still taught to treat their own kind how they'd want to be treated.

Now, I have talked a tad bit about Joseph's childhood and backstory before, which can be found here. (I also already sorta answered half your questions, but I wanted more detail in this post.)

To sum it up, I suspected that Joseph wasn't always this "bad child" that he always seems to hint at. He had good loving parents, a good school life, and plenty of good influences on his young, curious nature. He was nurtured but protected against the world that young children don't need to know about yet. But like an unfortunate amount of marriages, they all lead to disaster. Financial struggles appear. Maybe some ongoing infidelity, addiction. The marriage just got rocky, and the moment the curtains were closed, it was just one argument to the next.

"His parents couldn't afford to have a kid anymore. So they started neglecting him. Putting him up for adoption was a no-go. What would their parents think. Or all their peers the next time they got a job and suddenly everything went alright? They'd be right back to where they once were."

The moment Josephs parents began to neglect and ignore him, Joseph was oh so young, but old enough to comprehend that this is a life or death situation for him. He learned this via abuse. Whether it was his mother belittling and destroying anything that made Joseph chuckle remotely, or his father coming home from work drunk and letting off some steam on him.

"With the constant shitty home life, his school life was affected enormously. His grades went down, and he just got around with the wrong people. He was like any "out of place" child. All he truly wanted was attention and some sort of leverage to lean against. Someone to just listen because he's used to being ignored."

(Read the post, because I now realize I don't know how to summarize)

With that "summarized", we now know what his childhood was most likely. Take this with a grain of salt.

In the "Bad Yogurt" Ending, Jack says “You’ve changed. You’re clean now. You can be whatever you wanna be.” Leading me to believe that Joseph followed after his fathers footsteps. Alcohol and addiction to drugs. In the interview where we learned about how Joseph got his tattoos, which was in his high school years. Because of this I've come up with another headcanon/scenario.

Because Joseph was forced to grow up too fast, and practically raise himself, he's a smart kid. He doesn't believe he is, but he's truly a smart and talented kid. Though papers and his grades say otherwise, Joseph could turn everything around in a minute or two if he chose too. However, due to the gravitational decline on his mental health and home life, he started to underage drink, and get his hands on any drug that was available for him.

One day, Joseph and his 'crew' got invited to a house party. It's late, there's drinks, lights, music, and everything is fired up. After long joyous hours and a couple twenty shots, Joseph is fuuuucked up. Passed out on the couch. You wanna know what people do when they're young and drunk? They do irreversible stupid shit. Joseph got his lovely arm statements by either being so passed out that his friends decided that this would be a perfect canvas to paint on, or he was "consciously" agreeing to this work of art we see on his character sprites.

With a soft opening to the wounds of his childhood and teenage years, how was adulthood like? I doubt it wouldn't be easy, or that he could get away with more things as easier. I feel like Joseph chose to be a better person compared to his old self because of the fact that life would be even more shittier as it continued and that despite saying he wishes he would die, he's just as afraid of death as his 10 year old self. So, if he wanted to live a better life for himself and regain his sensitivity of self again, he had to fix himself up.

To answer your question of "Was he doing illegal activities or something bad?" Your answer is yes, and here's a list.

-As said before, alcoholism starting at age 16.

-Drugs, and at some point did attack people because he couldn't get said fix.

-Would sell himself for money.

-Robbed local stores just to have something in his system for the week minimum.

Joseph knew he had to better himself, and comparing all of this to the interview tapes-- If you didn't know a thing about him beforehand, you would've thought he was a perfect guy.

But we all know that no one is perfect, ain't that right?

[fahbev]

Unstoppable Force meets Immovable Object

(That title kinda sucks and is subject to change) If you saw my last post, you can skip ahead. It’ll be pretty obvious where the new stuff starts.

If you aren’t familiar with the “humans are space orcs” genre, I highly recommend searching up #humans are space orcs. I wanted to focus on the implications of being a “space orc”, and the kind of complex it would give someone long term. I also wanted to explore how it would affect different characters differently; so here I present two case studies;

A hippo and a moose walk into a bar. Metaphorically.

The human Sofia sits at the bar. The seats within six feet of her are all empty. She guzzles her fifth citrus drink - apparently most species are affected by it similarly to alcohol, and some weaker species would be dead by the fifth drink. Sofia remains unaffected. She could drink 30 and be unaffected. All her drinks combined are about half as potent as an orange slice. It doesn’t even taste good. She slams her empty goblet on the table, all for show. The conversations nearby hush even further, and the fearful whispers start up again. Good. She should be feared.

The door opens. In comes a gust of wind, and a hulking figure. No one in the bar is talking now.

Sofia slowly turns to face the door. She sizes up the newcomer. They’re big, not twice Sofia’s height, but a few feet shy. Not that it matters, when she’s wrestled creatures the size of bears before. The armor plating though, it sported a recognizable pattern. The forelimbs too, that were an odd combination of insectoid legs and tentacles, were a dead giveaway. This was a rragletatch. One of the most feared species in the multiverse, from one of the deadliest worlds known to the galactic community. They’re as rare as humans too. She smirks. Finally, a worthy opponent.

Some chatter starts up again as the rragletatch begins to walk up to the bar, pretending to ignore Sofia. It was still eerily quite, considering this was a bar, and people were drunk. A few gasps and screams echo when Sofia abruptly stands up, knocking over her stool. Her smirk widens into a grin. She stalks confidently up to the rragletatch stranger, and stands close enough that they can’t ignore her. Several people began filing out of the building, while others chose to stay. “So.” The alien greets her.

“You’re one of those infamous rragletatchen I hear of, no? The ones who are supposedly suuuuper scary?”

“Yes, I am rragletatchen. You’re human, right?”

“Damn right.”

“well then.”

A long pause. Practically the whole bar was listening in anticipation.

“Fight me.” Sofia’s expression didn’t waver. On Earth, she never could have looked so intimidating while staring so far up at someone.

“No.” what? “Oh? You scared? I thought you were supposed to be tough or something.” The stranger didn’t look scared, but they must be. Why else would they not want to fight?

“I’m not scared.”

“Then square up bitch. See who’s stronger. Finally put it to the test.”

“No.”

The whispers now were not of fear, but of confusion.

“I will not engage in needless violence,” the rragletatch continued, “contrary to the stereotype of my kind, I will not harm others if at all avoidable. Attack me if you will, I refuse to fight you.” The rragletatch stood still in a wide, but open stance, as if preparing to be hit. Sofia felt a flash of guilt. Something about attacking an opponent who refused to fight back felt wrong.

“You don’t want to see? Find out who the real champion is?” Sofia pushed aside her feelings and stared up. Unafraid, taunting as ever.

“No. My parents, grand parents and great grandparents before me have embraced a sacred philosophy of pacifism. It saddens me that my kind is known only for cuttthroat violence, only because of our home and biology. I refuse to hurt you. Do you truly wish to hurt me?”

Sofia was a bit shocked to say the least. When she realized her jaw was open and her head cocked, she quickly schooled her expression. That question though... she thought she did. But usually she just liked to brawl. Scare people. Assert dominance. When faced with an unwilling opponent who would not be scared of her... she realized she did not wish to cause harm. She never liked hurting people, that was never the fun of it.

“No.” Sofia sighed. She slouched from her offensive stance and backed over to her seat. “Come, sit with me.” It was phrased like a command, but really it was an offer. Everyone knew Sofia would have a hard time forcing this stranger to do anything. The rragletatch followed reluctantly. Sofia picked up her stool and plopped herself haphazardly on it. The stranger sat more eloquently on one of the many seats next to her.

“I’m Sofia.”

“Yal-sre.”

People moved their seats even farther from the Death-Worlders, or as some call them, orcs. Suddenly, Yal-sre relaxed their whole body.

“Wow.” Yal-sre almost whispered

“What?” Yal-sre made a sound that, in aliens with exoskeletons, tended to equate to a soft laugh.

“To be completely honest, I thought you were going to kill me.”

Sofia barked a laugh.

“hey! I’ve never met a human before! I didn’t want to judge based on reputation due to my own, but you came on pretty aggressively!”

“Yeah, I’m the apex predator ‘round these parts, and I plan to keep it that way. Still though, I ain’t gonna fight you if you don’t wanna.”

“That’s a relief.”

Neither knew what to say next, and suddenly the nearby silence was so loud. Fortunately, a few conversations began to pick back up now that they were talking peacefully.

“What’s your planet like?” Sofia asked.

“My planet, Challrk, is beautiful. It has vast plains of purple vshink, glowing with bioluminescent insects. Sure, they bite. Sure, I’ve been stung, bitten, chased and harassed by many a critter, but Challrk is a truly incredible place. It has high mountains that stretch beyond the atmosphere, and colors some planets can’t imagine. Our sky is orange and pink, if you can believe that. What’s Earth like?”

“Earth. It’s a rough and tumble place, you can’t survive there without being Hardy. I’ve been chased by swarms of wasps and stung repeatedly more than once. I stepped on a bee and couldn’t walk properly for days. I’ve been stung by jellyfish, and went back into the bay knowing they were there with no protection. Unafraid. Earth is rough, our fauna is often hostile and transmits thousands of deadly ailments, much of our flora is poison. Our weather conditions alone could wipe out an entire species instantly. Earth is extreme.”

“i’m sure that’s true, but that’s what you’ve been told. By people who have never been there. People who are scared because they couldn’t survive there. But what is it actually like? What do you remember?”

“I- I remember the heavy storms. I remember punching a goose and having to go to the hospital. I remember- I remember the blue skies. Fluffy white clouds, flocks of songbirds. I remember walking barefoot because I loved the green grass under my feet, not because I was trying to face danger. I remember a loving family, playing with friends. Warmth and love. I remember going in the bay because I loved the feeling of swimming and playing in the water, not because I wanted to be tougher than the jellyfish. Earth is- Earth is a BEAUTIFUL place and it makes me ANGRY” Sofia slammed both her fists on the table, “that all it’s known for is being dangerous.” A few satisfying screams and gasps rang off in response. Sofia looked over at Yal-sre. When they didn’t say anything, “I can’t read your face or body language. Can you give me a description?” This was actually a normal question to ask, in places where species were mixed.

“Uh, understanding, I’ve been there. Pleased that we’re getting somewhere. Uhhhhh, still kinda scared of you though. Sorry,” Yal-sre answered. Sofia gaped for a second, before she gave another rough laugh, knowing she probably sounded unhinged to the alien. “Ah!” Yal-sre yelped, “What- what are yours?” Sofia laughed harder. “laugher can mean many things, in most cases it means ‘amused’. Right now, I am laughing at you, meaning I’m being rude because I find your fear amusing. If there was any non-human who wouldn’t be scared of me, I thought it would be the damn rragletatch. You guys are supposed to be tough shit, but you’re pathetic.”

Yal-sre paused. “Well, yeah. Some of us are tougher than others.”

“Hm, yeah I guess it’s kinda the same with humans. That makes sense. Obviously if you put a fearless human who’s tougher shit than most together with the most timid rragletatch, of course you’d be scared.”

“I’m not the most timid! I’m normal! I’ll bet most humans would be scared of me too, after hearing how “dangerous” we are for so long.”

“Maybe. Humans are tough, but I’ll admit they’re not all like me.” Yal-sre did an odd motion with their... shoulder?

“Translation? I don’t speak shoulder,” Sofia attempted to mimic the motion.

“Understanding, but now amused. Anyway, does it bother you?”

“Does what?” “The fact that everyone is afraid of you? ... even me?”

“I like being feared.”

“Do you?” Sofia took a long sip of her drink - which probably made it look like she was drowning her sorrows - to avoid answering the question. When she was done, she placed the goblet face down on the bar to signal to the bartender that she was ready for a refill. The metal was dented... she had put it down too forcefully.

“Oops.” Though it had been an accident, her voice held no remorse.

NEW STUFF STARTS HERE!

“And yes. I do like being feared.”

“If you say so. I can’t speak to human psychology. Say, did you drink that entire thing?”

“Yup. I had four others too.” “Really? You don’t seem drunk at all.”

“It’s just citrus. Doesn’t affect me. Back home we give much more concentrated juice to our young children, it tastes way better too.”

“Oh, I get it. On Challrk we give concentrated fentanyl to our kids.” Sofia gave Yal-sre a look, even knowing it might not translate across body languages. Yal-sre seemed to get it though; “Yeah, yeah, I know. But it doesn’t affect us! It’s the same as your citrus drinks, fentanyl occurs naturally in the blood of prey animals, and their blood is very nutritious and tasty to young rragletatchen.”

“yeah, that makes enough sense.” Sofia drummed her fingers on the table, “Isn’t it weird? All aliens have biology differences, nothing seems crazy anymore because everyone is so crazy to each other. But when it’s us, suddenly it’s just more proof of how hardened and tough we are. Being immune to citrus or fentanyl doesn’t make us any scarier. Not really.”

“It’s because our planets are no-fly zones. And- I guess there’s a bunch of reasons. Just because we can be dangerous doesn’t mean we’re aggressive though.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Okay- actually, in a minute I will, but first- I can tell that you want to seem tough. I’m sure you’re plenty tough to back it up, but I just want to assure you that you don’t have to pretend. People will think you’re tough and scary no matter what you do. For better or worse.”  “Body language: unimpressed.”

“Okay I’ll- I’ll stop now. ‘Speak for myself’, as you said.”

“You’d better.”

A small, shy noise from behind the counter. Both “space orcs” turned to look. The bartender’s ears were flattened.

“Excuse me, Mx. is that another refill?” The bartender cautiously reached out to flip Sofia’s goblet back over.

 “... get me a kids’ drink this time, surprise me. This shit tastes like garbage anyway.”

The bartender looked surprised. Sophia was surprised herself, that she was able to read them.

“Right away Mx. And for you... oh- I-” the bartender took two steps back upon recognizing Yal-sre.  “Right, I forgot why I was here. It definitely wasn’t for a drink.” Yal-sre stood up, seeming much more intimidating than when Sophia had approached them.

“Oh.” The bartender backed away farther, making themself smaller as well, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Actually, Aolli, I think there is. If you come with me out back, there are some answers I’d like to order.”

The bartender - scratch that - Aolli gulped, and dipped their head. Sophia was again impressed by the very Earthly body language. “Coming right up, Sir.”

Pt 2: https://www.tumblr.com/bahfev/715216491195269120/unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object-pt2?source=share

[ask-elland-n-will]

For the boys! 28, 29, 30 for the ask game! 💙💖☺️

28. Does your mc have a favourite childhood toy? If so, what was it? Do they still have it with them?

I think both 🌙 Elland and 🧨 Cyrus had some sort of a Phoenix toy growing up, since the bird is on their family crest and they loved listening to stories about Firebirds as kids. Elland probably ended up giving his toy to Cyrus, who absolutely still keeps it somewhere in his room. Not at Hogwarts, but back home. At Hogwarts Cyrus tries to either transfigure things into Phoenixes / find the real bird / create an automaton of one (transfigure little metal pieces like cogs and such and make it come to life with magic — idea taken from his artificer class in DnD). Elland was a brave boy giving up his toys: he's an older brother and he has to lead by example!

☀️ William grew up a spoiled baby with a loooot of toys. Mostly plushies of animals and magical beasts. I want to give him some something cliché, like a bear, or perhaps a puffskein toy — the biggest fluffiest toy he has! He would turn his toys into a court of plushies, having tea ceremonies, talking gossip, unloading his grand nobleman plans onto them. Don't tempt me to turn his first display of magic into 5-year-old Will, making all his toys come to life ("About time you rose up, my warriors!") and march down to the main living room to parade them in front of his parents. Will doesn't have a canon "first magic" moment, and now my brain is hitting me with this. You are welcome. And yes, he still has all his toys at home!

🌸 Lilith — I really want her to have some traditional-style carving, maybe a bear figurine. She has it with her at Hogwarts, too: age doesn't matter. It's her spirit, and she honours it appropriately. It was a big help in Durmstrang, emotionally, helped her toughen up.

Before her parents became successful merchants, they were rather poor and lived in a village. Of course, she had some simple toys, like dolls made out of hay and dry grass, adorned with some pretty red ribbons Lilith's mother managed to exchange for come good they grew. But when her magic manifested, the villagers started fearing her. Even before then, she's been the kid coming up with crazy stories but it was not taken seriously until that moment. It got to the point that her parents seriously thought of moving, and at the time it was the worst thing possible cause they'd have to rebuild from scratch.

The villagers' memories were obliviated when the local magic enforcement finally located Lilith, and she got accepted to Koldovstoretz. Her parents took to selling things seriously since they didn't have money to afford education for Lilith, so the first couple of years were tough. But with her being at school for most of the year, they were able to travel, and eventually made some good money, took opportunities they otherwise couldn't have.

She was gifted a small carved figurine of a bear sometime between the villagers starting to push Lilith and her family away and Lilith leaving for school. It came from an old hag living on the outskirts of the forest: she was ostracized for magical reasons as well, and although she didn't have the kind of magic we are used to in HLHP, she had some older magic, letting her brew potions from most regular ingredients, influencing weather to some degree, communicating with animals, and so on. Lilith didn't have much contact with her since she was warned to never come near, but nobody can tell Lilith what to do, right? The bear gift was meant to protect her and guide her, and it did, imbued with some forgotten folk magic.

Lilith unknowingly put a lot of herself into the bear, magically and otherwise. The fact that she seems to be stronger than she should be now, at Hogwarts, it's not a coincidence. The figurine affected Lilith most when she spent a year in Durmstrang, enhancing her wish to become stronger after all the bullying at school. This bond shall only grow. Lilith has the most potential to be an MC, and yes, she'd take the power in the repository for herself. Sorry, cute question about childhood toys *wheeeze* 🤣

29. What kind of music would your MC like? Is there a reason?

🌙 Elland is used to instrumental music because he's been taught to play a few instruments since he was a kid. He never gave the piano a go, but some of his favourite compositions are by Frederic Chopin, followed closely by Franz Liszt and Claude Debussy. In addition, in modern AU he leans towards indie and rock, and he does homework while listening to chill-hop, lo-fi, dark ambience and such.

☀️ William appreciates some really complicated pieces of music. He wanted to play the piano when he was a kid but his hands don't have the range, they are rather small, so he ended up giving it up in favour of art. But he still loves classical music. The amount of times he and his parents snuck into the muggle world for some life performances! He's a frequent opera-ballet-goer in both HL and modern time, and loves musicals in modern AU. He'd be into 1950s-90s music of all kinds. Doesn't like anything harsh sounding, like metal. He likes fun pieces, too, since he enjoys dancing, and those don't have to be ballroom classics: he can very well dance to some folk music at Three Broomsticks and have a blast.

🧨 Cyrus and 🌸 Lilith are all in on the fun stuff, music in pubs, street performers, smaller and amateur artists — they love the honesty and uniqueness. The faster the rhythm, the better! Give them drums and loud unhinged fiddling!

30. Tell us something you love about your MCs!

Answered here. In short, I love the way they overcome hardships. For Elland — overstepping his morals and living with his choice, for Will — pushing past his fear.

For Lilith and Cyrus — they are unapologetically themselves, with all their flaws: they turn those into their strengths. I can say the same about Will as well.

[hanna-kin]

Wilmon top five hugs

You know what is just as good as kisses? Or even better? Hugs!

These were so much harder than the kisses but here we go.

5.

I love how assertive Wille is. Hr obviously feels so safe in Simon's room and in Simon's company and it shows. He's such a cuddler and we know it. But here we see just how much touch ia his love language. It's the way he hugs Simon from behind, snuggles against his neck and lets their arms intertwine, rendering Simon speachless. And Simon reciprocates to it my melting into him.

4.

I love the parallel to season 1. I love how they are on the same page, which is the opposite of how they were in season 1. But the love they have for eachother is still the same. That never changed. But there they are and they have both grown so much and they are peaceful because they have eachother and it's them against the world now. It's all that matters at the moment.

And I love Simon's I love you.

3.

This was such an important moment for them. They are open with eachother, they are honest and they communicate. They are listening to eachother!

Again they have come such a long way in such short time and this is another scene that so clearly shows that.

And that's also what allows them to be there for eachother. Both are obviously struggling here but they are leaning on eachother. Even if their future is uncertain and they have no idea what will happen there's still so much hope.

Simon is going to report August but they are still going to be okay.

Wille is scared shitless about what the future will hold for him but they are still going to be okay.

One way or another.

2.

This is still my favourite scene. You knew it was coming. It's just so beautiful, with the cinematography and the music being absolutely perfect.

I can not not rank it thia high.

It's a scene that breaks my heart every time. It curshes me every time I watch it and I love it.

Wille is obviously in a very vulnerable place and he let's it show with all his guards down and his heart on his sleeve. I think this is the most vulnerable we ever see him.

He is sacred of losing Simon. Terrified even. Because he's lonely without Simon in his life and the thought of losing Simon swallows him whole.

Gone is the confident Crown Prince that took charge in the Society meeting and over ruled August's decision. Because Simon’s thoughts about him matters. He can't lose Simon.

Simon of course is disappointed with Wille at first and their fight from before lingers. However I don't think he realises how vulnerable Wille was. And when he sees it his anger melts away and he realises that Wille probably did the best he could do and that the fight affected him too.

And he's so gentle when he wraps Wille into his arms. So protective and comforting. Wille lets himself be held and kinda sinks into Simon's arms and he feels so small.

It's sad because we gets so little comfort from anyone but Simon and this is a moment where it just gets too much and it bursts.

And Simon with his huge heart and kind soul takes care of him.

1.

How could I not? I feel so many things watching this scene. It's such a beautiful scene and the perfect ending to season 1.

Wille is obviously drowning in guilt for what he did and he realises how much he messed up and he needs Simon to know how sorry he is.

He's timid at first, gently complimenting Simon's singing but there's so much sadness and sorrow in his voice.

Simon is alot better at hiding his feelings and his heartbreak but it's obvious that he's hurting so much.

Especially when Wille hugs him and he closes his eyes and grabs at Wille's coat. You can feel he's as desperate for Wille's love as Wille is for his. You know that he's absolutely crushed over losing Wille. It's like he allows himself one final moment together. He knows he's made the right decision but it hurts. So much.

It's an important hug because it's Wille validating their love. It's him saying he's sorry and that he loves him even before he says it out loud. But it's also important because Wille is hugging Simon infront of everyone. He's not hiding.

And then he says I'm sorry and I love you.

You know how much it means to Simon to hear Wille say it but it's not enough. It can't make everything alright. He knows that. He still loves Wille but they can’t be together and he has to be strong.

He's so strong. So brave. He has so much integrity and he stands up for himself even if he hurts.

[pomplalamoose]

Can I request what canon rotj Luke and your Dilf!AU Luke would do if you were stressed to the point of tears? Like how he would comfort you if it finally all snapped and you just broke down in front of him?

YES YOU CAN ANON you're always welcome here! I adore every single person sending in asks, so as always, thank you so much🩵🩵

(and especially for requesting something Dilf!Luke related, I love thinking about my unstable mess of a man)

• as the one affected, it has become hard to ignore your body's signs of stress and yet you choose to suppress most of it in order to keep going

• possibly even yourself are unaware of how badly you're really doing and how closely you've been teetering on the edge for quite a while now

• after all, as you keep telling yourself, you'll always have enough time to regain strengths later; it worked before and has to now

• maybe you don't want the Luke Skywalker to think of you as weak or unable to keep up

• maybe you are afraid to divert attention from any, in your mind, more important issues at hand

• maybe you want to be there for him as a friend and/or partner, want to be the strong shoulder to lean on instead of breaking down when he could need you the most

• maybe you're ashamed of your problems, think of them as too small, too unworthy to bother someone else with them

• maybe this is how you were raised and, despite being an adult now, the old beliefs remain

Return of the Jedi!Luke

• Luke, caring and attentive, always senses when and how much you're set on edge though, no matter the state of your current relationship

• so it's likely he'll take notice of how bad you're doing no matter how much effort you put into hiding

• that man reads you like a book and there isn't much you can do about it

• still he wonders, worries, about what it is that troubles you so; he wants to help but isn't sure what to do, if you'd even want him or anyone else to interfere

• he could easily read your mind, listen in on your thoughts, but refuses to do so

• there is a reason for your withdrawn behavior and he respects that

• he wants to be worthy of your trust

• so he'd decide to keep an eye on you nevertheless, somehow always present to "coincidentally" swoop in to improve your situation

• your favorite tea has run out? - oooh look how funny, he found one last little bag in his drawer and was just about to drink it; would you like to have it instead?

• you're desperately searching for your set of keys/your communicator/an accessory/basically anything? - look what he found lying around!

• if he knows or suspects you have a crush on him prior to your relationship he'd smile or acknowledge you with a kind nod whenever your paths cross, deeply enjoying the way it makes your eyes shine and cause your whole demeanor to lighten up, no matter how briefly

• when you finally break down in front of him, he'd be somewhat caught off guard despite having sensed it coming

• and though he manages to remain calm to not upset you any further he's somewhat distraught himself

• similarly to you he didn't expect it to be THAT bad

• he'd approach you carefully, ask if you'd rather be left alone, secretly being very relieved when you shake your head no

• he'd hate to leave you behind without anyone to look out for you

• depending on where the two of you are he'd either make sure no one will walk in or carefully steer you somewhere quiet, all the while talking to you in a soothing tone

• he'd sit you down and stay close, waiting, taking his time to calmly assess the situation and your needs

• if you're unable to speak in full sentences and/or have trouble breathing he'd gently walk you through a row of calming exercises until you're able to answer some simple yes-or-no-questions

• are you comfortable with being touched right now?

• is his hand resting on your back okay?

• would being held help?

• do you want him to continue talking?

• or do you wish to talk?

• would you like to lay down?

• or maybe go for a walk?

• do you want to try his favorite warm beverage?

• in the end it's Luke's goal to make you feel as safe and secure with him as possible and thus would adjust his behavior and your surroundings according to your reactions

• to him it doesn't matter what's going on either; cry, rant or be silent as long as you need to be if only it serves to make you feel better

• despite his burning curiosity he'd never pry or put any kind of pressure on you

• he's patient and understands that some things are better left unspoken until the time is right

• still he makes sure you know you'll always have someone to talk to as long as he's around

Modern day AU Dilf!Luke

• very much to his dismay, this version of Luke doesn't have a connection to the Force and, even worse, lacks the ability to communicate properly

• still he'd sense something is wrong as soon as your behavior changes, no matter how minimal, no matter how good you are at hiding your struggles

• because despite everything he's a very sensitive man, and not as easily fooled as others, especially not when it comes to you

• he sees the faintest hint of dark circles under your eyes, or the way you slouch over dinner just a little more than usual and knows

• at first he'd tell himself not to read too much into it; no need to overreact because you possibly had one bad night of sleep

• but when your constitution doesn't better, in fact, only seems to worsen over time, his forced calm vanishes

• he'd be so worried but then, slowly but surely, he'd wonder why you didn't confide in him

• is he not approachable enough?

• does he not give you enough sense of security?

• did he fail to be convincing when he promised to take care of anything that might stress you out?

• don't you trust him?

• his mind would be racing; there has to be a reason, a good reason, for your silence

• otherwise you would tell him, wouldn't you?

• in his panic he quickly jumps to the worst possible conclusion he's able to come up with:

• you don't love him anymore, are unhappy with how things are and only haven't told him so because you didn't yet figure out how to

• oh if only he were given the opportunity to take a look inside that pretty head of yours, he would do so immediately

• to make things worse he might unconsciously start to distance himself from you in order to protect his feelings

• because what else is he supposed to do?

• how could he ever change your mind when he clearly seems to have messed up?

• once you can't take the stress anymore, when everything just gets too much and you break down in front of him, he'd act on instinct

• you don't cry around him often, not like this, so accordingly all of his alarm bells are going off like crazy, his fear of loosing you at an all-time high as he sees it basically confirmed

• he'd be by your side as fast as the first tear appears, wiping it away as he tightly wraps his arms around you

• he can't be sure if it it's the last time he gets to hold you, so he'd try to make the most of it, try to put all of his devotion and love for you in every single one of his touches as he'd pick you up and sit the both of you down on the sofa

• either with you in his lap or him above you he'd ignore his own urge to cry as he covers you in kisses from head to toe, positively smothering you, stopping only to whisper ragged, breathless pleas into your ear

• while not exactly doing anything to calm you down, the confusion definitely serves to distract you enough to clear your head

• at least for the amount of time you need to get Luke to look at you and to ask what the hell he's even talking about

• "You're not leaving me?" he'd ask, eyeing you like a kicked puppy

• you're absolutely not and he's so relieved, so overjoyed, barely able to contain himself, that he nearly forgets you were crying in the first place

• he'd remember it quickly enough though and forbid you from getting up for the rest of the day

• work? Called off

• your appointments? Cancelled

• don't you dare to start any chores around the house

• be good and do as he tells you: sit there and look pretty and let him take care of you

• but first, tell him what bothers you so

• please

• he'll get you anything, do anything, you need to make you feel better