#I’m just posting this and hoping it isn’t nonsense

[romeoistrans1641]

Ok I’m going to vent for a second guys

Tw: transphobia and shit

So I started the coming out process as a trans man about 3 months ago or so. After coming out to my close friends, I made a quick Instagram story and posted it on my close friends story (not everyone on there was a “close friend”, just people that I generally trust and like) explaining my new name and pronouns. Everyone was super chill and accepting of it (to some varying degree) and I’m so so grateful for that. I started coming out to my band community and was surprised by how quick people picked up on my new name (it def helps that it’s pretty close to my dead name). Anyway all that to say that I AM super grateful that I do have a support system and stuff.

That being said, some people are being total asshats about it all and it’s driving me insane. I have two sisters (and two brothers but they aren’t relevant rn) and coming out to one of them was totally fine, she didn’t care and she still supported me (again, I’m grateful). However, the other one, when I told her, started encouraging me to not transition because she’s “read stories about people who’ve detransitioned” and like I understand that but also detransition rates are super low and god I would rather take the risk me wanting to detransitioning then have to stay like how I am. And then she made some comment about how I’m still growing and changing as a person and I shouldn’t transition yet because I’ll be a totally different person in another couple years. The thing is though, I won’t be? Like I’ll still be me. I definitely will change as a person and I understand that but I’ll still be me. I’m still the little 8 year old who wanted to hang out with all the guys because that’s were I felt I belonged. I’m still the 12 year old who felt out of place wearing dresses and who just wanted to wear suits. I’m still the 15 year old who instantly felt connected to trans people and realizing that I may not be a girl. I’m still all of those people and each single one of those fucking people knew that I was trans. I’ve always been this way. And I don’t deny the possibility that I may be a different gender than just “guy” but whatever I am I know that I want to transition. I know now and I’ve always known.

And then, she started referring to me as “aunt *dead name*” and using she/her pronouns towards my 1 year old nephew. That was honest to god the biggest punch in the god the entire conversation. She didn’t even try to use the name or pronouns I preferred. She didn’t even attempt to do anything to show she supported me, and it was so fucking obvious that she didn’t. It was obvious that she still saw me as her little sister that doesn’t know what I want. And it’s just so fucking awful that she can’t be supportive. I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to her. I don’t. All I needed was someone to support me, and that’s kinda what hurts most of all. I love her and I care about her a lot and her support would’ve meant so much to me. And know, I don’t even know anymore. I still love her a lot but god I just wished she would be a supportive person. All I need is someone to call me by the name that I want and the pronouns I choose. That’s all I wanted from her. And now it feels like some part of me lost a sister.

And after that whole thing happened, she kinda casually let drop that she didn’t agree with my decision to do this (which, btw, it isn’t her fucking decision so she can shut up) but she also didn’t agree with my decision to date a woman (my now ex). Like. What? I actually thought she was supportive of me being bi all this time. I had no idea that she cared who I dated. And this is a pattern that I’ve noticed with other people too. I’ve had a few other people who I could openly talk about being bi with and they didn’t care until I told them that I was trans. Then, all of a sudden, they have an issue with me being bi as well as trans. It’s almost like queer people aren’t a big deal to them until they have to change the way they interact with other people. Maybe I’m thinking too much but that’s what it feels like to me. It feels like people are “accepting” of queer people only because it’s the socially acceptable thing to do. Because they know that if they hate on cis queer people, they’re gonna get a shit ton of push back. For trans people though, it’s a lot easier to not be supportive and still be accepted by others. Transphobia is more ok to the general population than homophobia is, so people that are both homophobic and transphobic know that they should hide their homophobia but not their transphobia. That could also very much be the community that I grew up in.

Anyway I just really needed to vent about all this. It just drives me insane. I don’t understand why people would be transphobic, it’s literally not that big of a deal. It doesn’t fucking hurt you, so why should you care? It actually doesn’t make sense to me.

[mamahoggs]

[luckykiwiii101]

Get Uncomfortable To Get Comfortable

(This is how you should be):

WHY has the void state community forgotten about the law of assumption?! It’s gotten to a point where you just hope you’ll wake up in the void state one day and manifest your dream life.

All this nonsense saying that you can’t enter the void state and you don’t believe you can. Then you ask for help on how to enter it. As if the law of assumption isn’t what brought you to the void state in the first place.

If you don’t believe you can enter the void state, you never will. You aren’t going to magically enter it by the force of the fairy standing on your pillow.

I’m not even bothered to make a whole damn post about this and sign it off with gossip girl because you people aren’t getting this info into your thick little brains. You’re the reason you don’t have what you want. Does that make you feel uncomfortable? Yes? No? If the answers yes, then do something about it!!! If the answers no, then you’re too comfortable not doing anything about it!!

Do you think all these people who’ve manifested their dream lives just sulked in their old state and identified with the things they DONT want?! No!! They put on a new skin and wore it. Just imagine being in somebody else’s body right now. That would feel uncomfortable wouldn’t it. It’s not supposed to feel comfortable at first!! The more you persist, the more comfortable you get.

Get uncomfortable to get comfortable. In other words, make your new state COMFORTABLE so that the old one is UNCOMFORTABLE.

I’ve said it a million times and this is the last time i’m saying it.

CHANGE.YOUR.ASSUMPTIONS!!! or be miserable

[dumbseee]

bro code. pt3.

part 1. part 2.

carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: bruna marquezine.

note: sorry for the mistakes this might have, english isn’t my first language and this is the longest fic i’ve ever written :) btw this will be the last part.

liked by landonorris, y/n, charles_leclerc and 1 589 008 others.

carlossainz55: happy birthday to the person who owns my heart. you helped me experience true love, and for that i’ll forever be grateful. your heart is pure and you always want the best for people, i love every little detail about you, like the way you always count to three before jumping into the pool because you were afraid of it when you were younger, or the way you always kiss my forehead before every race because you say it’s my lucky charm. you are my lucky charm, mi cielito. i love you so much y/n, thank you for giving me the chance to show you how you deserved to be loved.

_

y/n: how dare you making me cry on my birthday carlos sainz :( i love you more <3

carlossainz55: @.y/n not possible, i’m bigger than you so i can hold more love for you.

fan1: I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES

fan2: WHEN IS IT MY DAMN TURN

fan3: god it’s me again…

fan4: im going to kms in front of them to change the trajectory of their lives istg

fan5: GOOOOOOSH CARLOS IS ABISDODLLD

landonorris: damn sainz, even i am tearing up

fan6: just get married already

fan7: after n*ymar, y/n deserved a man like that

liked by marquinhosm5, carolcabrino, neymarpai_ and 3 788 082 others.

neymarjr: my heart is empty without you, you’ve blocked me so i can’t wish you a happy birthday privately but please y/n come back to me. you succeeded, that stunt you pulled with that random driver hurt me, you can stop now. i know that you miss me and want to comeback so please y/n be reasonable. i made a huge mistake and i’ll never forgive myself for what i did to us.

_

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your day went terribly, it was your birthday and you were excited for it but your day was completely ruined with neymar’s post. because of course, you saw it the second he posted it. your agent called you, panicked and told you to avoid social media, but it was too late. you were home when you saw it and had a huge panic attack. you didn’t tell carlos and you prayed that he didn’t see the post which was very unlikely since neymar mentioned him. you were more mad at the fact that he disrespected carlos because he didn’t deserve it. even if your relationship was fake to the world, carlos was nothing but a sweetheart to you. you even hoped that the moments you shared with him were true.

carlos texted you to come at his house to have a small party with some friends but you almost had a heart attack when you entered the house and saw all those people screaming "happy birthday!" filming you to have your reaction. carlos had a very different definition of « small party ». you saw him walk towards you with a huge smile, he was breathtaking, wearing nude pants and a blue shirt, letting the top buttons open, showing a bit of his torso. you were completely mesmerised by him, that was the effect carlos had on you.

"surprise cielito." he said after kissing your cheek, he wrapped his arm around your waist and gave you a hug. you melted in his touch and smiled at him. "you didn’t need to do all that, carlos." you said. "nonsense, it’s your birthday after all." you smiled at him and kissed his cheek before some friends of yours came to greet you and wish you a happy birthday. carlos’ purpose was to make your birthday special, especially with what happened earlier with your ex. he knew how this whole situation affected you deeply, even if you tried to hide it from him, carlos saw right through you. he could tell if you were upset just by looking at your face.

"umm, carlos?" lando’s voice took him out of his thoughts, he looked at his friend but frowned when he saw the look on his face. "look who showed up." lando whispered as if the whole room didn’t see who came uninvited. you gotta be kidding me. carlos turned around to see where you were and his heart tightened when he saw the look on your face, pure sadness. anger took over him immediately, that son of a bitch made you sad on your special day. carlos wasn’t going to let that slide. the spaniard quickly made his way to neymar who was asking people about where you were. the driver roughly turned the brazilian around so he could face him. neymar was about to say something to the person who just interrupted him but he only rolled his eyes when he saw carlos.

"what do you want sainz? where is my girl?" he asked, looking over carlos’ shoulder. neymar looked very drunk. carlos could feel anger buildup inside of him. how dare he? "you’re in my house so, i’ll ask you once and once only, leave before i make you leave." carlos said through gritted teeth. neymar scoffed before taking a step closer to the spaniard, being almost forehead against forehead. "are you threatening me, hijo da puta?" carlos was about to respond when charles and lando quickly appeared to separate the two of them. "okay, it’s enough now boys." charles said trying to lighten the mood. "move! i’m not done with him!" neymar pushed charles away which made carlos even more mad. "listen here, little boy. first you steal my woman and then you disrespect me in front of all these people. you think i’ll let that slide, coño?" the brazilian added while pushing carlos with his finger. at this point there was nothing charles or lando could do to stop them. "let me clarify one thing, junior, she was never yours to begin with. and trust that now that she has tasted true love, she’s never leaving." carlos said with a smile, which made neymar go crazy. the footballer grabbed carlos’ collar. "you made her cry for weeks, you destroyed her completely, and now you dare to show your face and claiming her as your woman? how dare you call yourself a man and make the woman you’re supposed to love and cherish, cry?" the spaniard said before getting closer to neymar’s ear. "if you dare to even whisper her name in your sleep, i’ll come for you, neymar da silva santos junior."

neymar finally let go of carlos before leaving quickly. the driver was now concerned about where you were hiding. as he was looking at the crowd of people, who were still talking about what just happened, lando approached his friend. "she’s with luisa and charlotte, they’re on the balcony." carlos nodded before patting his friend’s shoulder as a thank you. he quickly made it to his balcony where the girls were talking, luisa noticed him and patted charlotte’s shoulder to tell her that they needed to go. carlos sent them a thankful smile before walking towards you. your back was facing him and you were too lost in your thoughts to even notice his presence. he gently hugged you from behind which made you jump before you recognised his fragrance. "carlos." you simply said. "yes, cielito, are you okay?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. you sighed before looking up at the moon, shining on the both of you. "i guess? is he gone?" you asked with a small voice, feeling the tears threatening to fall again. "yes, for real this time." you frowned before turning around to face carlos.

you were still extremely close as his hands were on your waist and your hands on his chest. he looked ethereal under the moonlight. "carlos, what am i to you?" you finally asked the question you were scared to even ask yourself. carlos smiled before moving his face closer to you. "you’re the love of my life." and then he kissed your lips. he kissed you like you’ve always dreamed to be kissed. with love, respect and passion. carlos was the first one to break the kiss, he looked at you and replaced a wild strand of hair behind your ear. "none of this was fake to me, every word, every attention, everything was real to me."

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, charlottesiine and 1 789 007 others.

y/n: thank you everyone for all the birthdays wishes! and thanks to my amazing boyfriend for throwing this party for me. i love you to the moon and back, handsome and i thank god everyday for giving me the chance to be your girlfriend.

_

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_

taglist: @mjaudrey @champomiel @lorarri @watersquirtpewpewboomm @ndunad @shrimpyshrimp @gaviypedrisbride @little-angel-07 @ironmaiden1313 @leclerc16s @xjval @elijahslover @hearts4esmee @love4lando

thanks for the support 🤍🥹

[lifespectator]

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

[sixosix]

HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES, AND I WILL HOLD ONTO YOU | LYNEY

notes happy last chapter!! hope u enjoy<33 and tune in for another post in appreciation for the last chapter yeahhh

previous chapter | masterlist

It took two months in Sumeru, three in Liyue, and one month in Snezhnaya to take you down. Childe admitted that you held up longer than he expected—training unrelentingly in an unfamiliar environment would shake anyone’s confidence. But you’d been pushing through with excitement at the prospect of traveling to another region and training to become stronger. The adrenaline is quick to disappear when Rosalie has to go back home, and her absence makes the cold loneliness prominent.

When Childe strikes at you with a sword, your calves burn, and your thighs quiver—that split second costs you the match. Childe calls for you to get up. Fight back. But for some reason, all you can think of is how the ice has melted in your boots in a puddle and how the flowers sprinkled sporadically in the snow are the same ones back at home.

Childe senses it, the sudden drop of mood. He studies whatever expression you’re making and smiles.

“Alright. I think it’s about time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Childe pulls you up and throws your arm over his shoulder. “What’re you sorry for?”

You take one heavy step at a time, watching and hating as your feet sink into the soft snow. It’s too cold. “You’re doing so much for me, but I’m too weak to follow through.”

“Nonsense.” He clicks his tongue. “I think of this as one of my duties.”

“But it’s not one of your duties,” you argue weakly. “I’m a burden to your actual duties. My colleagues are already suspicious of this special treatment.”

“They aren’t really your colleagues,” Childe points out. “Just as you aren’t actually working under me. You’re my mentee. There’s a world of difference.”

You sigh, unconvinced. Childe is doing so much to prevent the other Harbingers and even the Tsaritsa herself from snooping in your business. A part of you thinks the Tsaritsa already knows, but it’s about time she does something about it, right?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Childe remarks. When you turn to him, he’s staring ahead. “Don’t worry, okay? You’ve got three Harbingers vouching for you.”

“Three?”

Childe grins. “That boyfriend of yours is about to be one, isn’t he?”

Excitement thrums in each bone of your body as the familiar view of the continent-sized fountain comes to view. You nearly fall over into the ocean from tipping forward.

“Fontaine’s not going anywhere,” Childe yells out from the other side of the Fatui-issued ship.

The wind whips through your hair. The recognizable scent of the sea breeze makes you laugh in delight. Maybe you missed your home more than you realized. 

“I wouldn’t let it, anyway,” you answer back.

Once the ship has reached the dock, you bound over to Childe, who looks over curiously.

“Thank you,” you say, and you really, really mean it. For the past few months, for this and possibly for more in the future.

Childe ruffles your hair. It would’ve made you glare at him on usual days, but you’re bursting with happiness so you let him until he says, “No problem, Y/N. We’re friends now.”

Childe nudges you forward. “Now, go hurry. I’m about one messenger bird away from losing my patience with Lyney.”

Despite that, you meet with Rosalie first.

The sun has barely risen, just peeking from rolling hills. The shop is still closed. But this is your home, so you push the key in, pull the door open, and catch sight of Rosalie fixing the displays on the shelf behind the counter.

“Maman, why are you up so early?”

Rosalie’s head whips around, then her limbs lock up in place. She’d been with you for the first two weeks of Sumeru, admiring their flora, then taking a lot of them home. You see them displayed on the shelves next to your first flower—the ones that are certainly for sale. Rosalie still hasn’t moved, frozen, gaping at you.

“Surprise,” you say, then she boots back to life and runs over to hug you.

“Oh, my darling,” Rosalie says reverently, as if speaking to the gods, thanking them. Her hands are stained with soil dirt and the smell of leaves, but you find that there is nothing else more fitting. You really are home. “Ma bébé! You’re back!”

You pluck a few petals off of her hair. “I am.”

Rosalie pulls back and grins up at you. “You’re home! You’re—” her face twists in realization, “Oh, you’re back. Oh, dear. You just missed Lyney. He came over earlier to help me settle everything before I opened up.”

“Wait, really?”

Rosalie nods, ushering you inside the counter, where the door leads to upstairs to the kitchen. “Yes, yes. Since I returned, Lyney has been coming over to visit and help me with the shop.”

Your heart skips a beat. “He does?”

“Mhm. At first, I assumed it was because he got used to visiting you, but he just does it every day now. ” Rosalie shakes her head fondly, smoothing down your hair. “That boy. I tell him that he should focus when he has shows to practice or prepare for, but he just buries his hands in the dirt as an answer.”

“I see you two have gotten closer while I was away.” The image of Lyney changing pots, getting his hands soiled, while he insists that Rosalie does the watering, makes you unbelievably fond.

“As stubborn as you,” Rosalie chides, smiling. “He knows how to handle them, though. Did you know, Lyney started to send out messenger birds when I told him I was missing you? That boy is more than head over heels, darling.”

“Maman,” you say, embarrassed. “I just came back. Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

“I don’t need to. Lyney updates me anyway,” Rosalie says. “But I have missed you, so tell your maman about everything, okay?”

“I’ll tell you stories for as long as you want me to, maman.”

Rosalie’s eyes water, but she braves through it as she stares wordlessly at you. She wipes it off, then ruffles your hair. Do you have a sign on your head or something? 

“I’m proud to call you my daughter. I’ll always want you to.”

Freminet is the first out of the siblings to hear from you. It’s not on purpose. You’re on your way to surprise Lyney and Lynette when you hear a soft voice call out after you. Your head snaps side to side, frantically looking for the source, then grin wide when Freminet waves at you feverishly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims breathlessly.

“Freminet!” you yell back, falling towards a hug that he tightly reciprocates. 

“I didn’t know you were back?” He says incredulously, which might just be the most passionate emotion you’ve ever felt from him. He looks torn between disbelief and joy.

“Just this morning. I wanted to surprise all of you.” To gain a sense of satisfaction, you bury your hand in his hair first, knocking his beret aside when you ruffle and mess with his hair. “Your hair’s gotten longer than usual.”

“Yeah. You missed too much,” Freminet mumbles. But he doesn’t look depressed about it. He beams up at you, reminding you of a particularly pleased puppy.  “You have a lot to catch up on.”

“I know, I know.”

“But wait.” Freminet’s brows scrunch together. “How long are you allowed to stay here?”

“Two weeks, at most. But I can always come back whenever I want.”

Freminet laughs. “Are you going to max out your two weeks before you talk to Lyney?”

“Shut up.” You elbow his ribs, but Freminet just laughs harder. “I was on my way to your house before I saw you.”

Freminet hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting off to somewhere far. “I don’t think Lyney’s home right now.”

“Really?” You follow his gaze, but see nothing. Only kids running around, throwing cards around and sounding explosions with their mouths. You smile. Were they imitating Lyney? It seems that even if you try to avoid him, you’ll find traces of his footsteps anywhere. “Huh. Where could he be then?”

“Ever since you left, Lyney goes to this one spot a lot,” Freminet says, turning back to you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Ma mère’s shop?”

“No, no. A different one. He says you two sparred there, and he goes there when he misses you. He goes every day.”

Rosalie, then now Freminet… You feel giddy, fondness bursting in your chest at the thought of Lyney missing you as much as you missed him. Not that you’d admit it to him straight up—because then he’d never let it go. But even then, the thought of that has you smiling to yourself like a madman.

Freminet notices it, too. “I’ll tell Lynette you said hi.”

True to his word, you find Lyney in the same spot he asked you to spar with him after years without it. You face his back, but you keep your steps light and measured, moving closer and closer until you see that he’s picking flowers. For his show, maybe?

Lyney looks vulnerable, hunched over a patch of flowers and gently unrooting them from the grass.

You spread your palm and let ice materialize above it in the shape of a heart. It’s smooth and clean after months and months of perfecting it. Then you throw it towards him. You have exceptional aim—you barely miss his ear on purpose. But Lyney straightens up in a snap and catches the heart with a gloved hand.

He looks at the heart in confusion, then rapidly whips around to you.

You grin and wave, unsure of what to say. What do you even greet him with? It’s nice to see you again? I missed you?

You haven’t had much time to think about it as Lyney sprints to you and tackles you down into a hug, blowing the air out of your chest as you both fall on the grass. You laugh as Lyney rubs his head on your neck like those affectionate cats back at Sumeru, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder.

Lyney pulls away, pupils blown wide.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hi,” you whisper in return. Maybe the right thing to say is, “Lyney.”

“You’re back. You—you’re back in Fontaine—you made me a heart!”

“I did,” you say shyly. “I’m home.”

Sumeru had been wonderful; with trees that stretched and went on for forever, dewy grass that tickled your calves, and the heat of the sand that you longed for when you reached Snezhnaya. Liyue had been beautiful; spread with the aroma of spices and the orange glow of their sunset, then the mountains that allowed you to soar from one to another. Snezhnaya had been enchanting; the view of their sky was unmatched, the flowers that were unique to the cold climate were beautiful, their snow sent you a thrill that you knew you couldn’t feel anywhere else, and you were able to refine your Vision in the place where it belonged.

But the warmth that Lyney emanated—that he gave you—was the kind you missed in every place you went to. This is where you belong.

thank you so much for reading. i'll save all the things i want to say in the next post, so please, tune in!

[idlerin]

NONSENSE

an oikawa tooru social media au

pairing. celebrity!oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

tags. social media au, celebrity smau, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, idiots in love, crack, humor (hopefully), fluff, and perhaps a little angst? ehe (groveling !!)

warnings. time stamps dont really matter unless i say so, cursing, some drinking alcohol n stuff and sometimes suggestive but nothing graphic

status. completed (01/15/23 - 02/11/24)

— playlist.

teasers

teaser 1 — teaser 1.5 — teaser 2

profiles

[name]’s pe(s)ts | in need of medical attention

episodes !

(⚘) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. rid me of my despair

02. murder is ethically wrong

03. he’s literally everywhere

04. i’m NOT petty (⚘)

05. i think i’ve seen this film before

06. he’s back !

07. baby girl of all baby girls

08. the famous friend

09. forget me not

10. why are you running!? (⚘)

ACT II

11. blast from the past

12. i despise you (⚘)

13. villains are hot (⚘)

14. adulting and other important stuff (⚘)

15. what we look forward to

16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

17. antithetical girlie

18. this is the tactic (⚘)

19. honey it hurts (⚘)

20. exes and ohs

21. takoyaki cravings

22. kill me with kindness

23. tell me, tell me (⚘)

24. do you think about me?

25. wish u were sober (⚘)

ACT III

26. you look like shit (⚘)

27. a taste of fame

28. reminds me of

29. helpless, breathless (⚘)

30. oh how you woo me

31. all over again

32. disconnected

33. this love is so illogical

34. don’t care if you ruin me (⚘)

35. hate clingy men

36. need you like oxygen (⚘)

37. media craze

38. hard to love (⚘)

39. coming home

40. only your love

EPILOGUE

41. new friends

42. love languages

43. utterly nonsensical

end

✦

bonus content

post break-up [name]

don’t you know that i’m intoxicated !

you said you liked the way i spoke

unsent letter #1

one of the boys

kuroo being a menace for 12 panels straight

kodzuken mayhem

taglist is CLOSED !

to be REMOVED from the taglist you can just send an ask or comment :)

notes. hey so i’m starting my first smau series?!!? *squeals and kicks feet in excitement* i hope i get to finish it lmao i plan to not make it that long prolly around only like 30 chaps! hope u’ll enjoy reading it as much as i’ll enjoy making it! also thank you everyone for 200 followers! i rlly appreciate it &lt;3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

[needle-thread-thimble-spear]

RGU and the Transfeminine, Part 1

OR

Why Miki Kaoru is an Egg

Fig. 1: The Sunlit Garden

When I’d first watched through Revolutionary Girl Utena, Miki Kaoru was initially one of the characters I had the hardest time figuring out. Unlike the other poisoned sibling relationships in the show, Miki and Kozue’s didn’t really make much sense to me. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the character, whether he was “better” somehow than Touga, Saionji, or Akio, or if he was “just as bad”. And of course. What the hell is with that damn stopwatch dude??* Looking at fan writings afterward just deepened the confusion. Everyone seems to have a different opinion on what’s going on with Miki. It’s only after much re-watching, and introspection, that I think I’ve figured out why I’m so conflicted about the character. I’d like to share why- and hopefully along the way I can at least show that Miki is more interesting than many give him credit for. Click the readmore if you please!

(And, to be clear, what is written below is a reading, a blend of evidence from the text, from the subtext, and my own personal experience. I do not claim to be the first to interpret the character this way nor do I claim that this is the definitive read of the character. Nonetheless, I hope I can make my case to you!)

and, a big thank you to @empty-movement for collating all the high quality screengrabs and scans in this post!

Fig 2: Rookie Princes

While I’m not the first to notice, I think it’s frequently overlooked just how similar Utena and Miki are in the first arc. It’s definitely something that flies over the heads of many first-time viewers. But Miki and Utena, are extremely alike! Of course, they are both motivated by an unattainable image of the past, and Miki’s early episodes codify the “sunlit garden” into the RGU symbolic environment. But it’s more than just this. Utena and Miki both treat Anthy in basically the same way. Utena has an easy time convincing Miki that the dueling game is objectifying nonsense. That the principled thing is to leave the whole exercise behind and treat Anthy like a person. It isn’t very hard for Miki to convince Utena to duel him for her hand either. They both view themselves as her personal protector, and (while maybe at different times), both project their imagination of what she must be thinking onto her. Utena does a bit more than Miki to try and figure Anthy out, but it doesn’t take much for her to get swept up in her own image of prince. In both their minds, Anthy needs them to save her. And, when Anthy looks them in the eyes, and tells them. I’m not yours. It destroys them. Freezes them in their tracks, breaks their hearts. Screaming, its a lie, you can’t mean that! Of course they get along so well! They see themselves in one another, plain as day. Little rival princelings, seeking the affections of the same princess, but always with chivalry and good intention.

Fig 3: Heartbreak

But I think there is more to it than that! Miki and Utena (and later Nanami) are some of the youngest duelists (at least, without a black rose anyway). And, they have fairly similar relationships to the other members of the student council. Juri acts as an older friend, mentor, and source of advice for both of them. Its not unlikely that she sees her younger self in the two of them, and while she does very directly take this out on Utena, its her sword that Utena takes to her second duel with Touga. Indeed, Touga manipulates Miki and Utena in unsubtle and sexually aggressive ways, as compared to how he might treat Saionji or Juri. And for both, its their relationship to gender that he directly attacks. He attempts to break Utena’s spirit by turning her “back into a normal girl”, and for Miki he seems to challenge his masculinity. And while this may seem as though the two of them are being shoved in opposite directions, in both cases, Touga hits them in the same place. “You’re a prince then? I don’t think so. Unless you prove it”. Touga isn’t the only one to question Miki’s ability or status. Utena and Juri both tell Miki. You are much more suited to playing piano than dueling. The main difference here is that they tell him this with genuine compassion, but the implication is the same. You aren’t suited to this prince thing. Give it up.

I don’t think it’s just the audience who is conflicted slotting in Miki with the other “men”.

Fig 4: Strange Friends

Much ink has been spilled on Miki and Kozue’s relationship, but I do think there is one thing consistent across readings. There is a power struggle going on between them, and they’ve both got something to hold over the others head. Personally, I don’t believe there is any attraction between them. Rather, What’s Going On With Those Two is their mismatch in understanding their sexuality and the RGU concept of “Reality”, and the friction that creates in their image of themselves and one another. That reading may go as follows. Miki sees Kozue as acting dangerously and immorally. In his mind, she is his responsibility, to keep out of trouble at the very least. Perhaps he sees himself as needing to step in for their absent parents. So he sees himself as the mature and grounded one, a father figure needing to keep the both of them on the straight and narrow. Kozue on the other hand, sees Miki as being essentially blind to Reality (with a capital R). She believes he doesn’t have a good grasp of what sex is, or what adult relationships look like. She may believe that she understands what happened with their parents much better than Miki, and clearly sees that her brother is in danger with his creepy music teacher. So she sees herself as the mature and grounded one, needing to protect her brother both by warding off people who would take advantage of him and by getting him to grow up and see things as they Really are. Without their parents, they feel the need to take care of one another and control how the other approaches their sexuality. But in the end, it does seem that Kozue is the one who is better able to manipulate Miki’s behavior, helping Akio convince him to duel a second time. That Miki needs to grow up and accept what he wants. He sees a vision of Anthy, and he’s driving the akiomobile. And, with fearful realization, he discovers the identity of End of the World.

Fig 5: Fear

So then. Why should Miki be so hung up about his sexuality? It clearly makes him very uncomfortable. And why does he compare the sister he had in the past onto the one he has in the present? What’s so special about that sunlit garden, anyway? What is Miki Kaoru’s shining thing?

Let me spin a yarn, if you'll indulge me-

As far as Miki remembers it, when he was little things were perfect. His parents were still there, and he and his twin sister were thick as thieves. They would play piano together, and drink milkshakes. Things were simple and happy as far as he’s concerned, and while his childhood was not nearly as rosy as he remembers, it was certainly better than whatever he has to deal with now. Now his parents are gone for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, and his sister has drifted away from him and acts promiscuously. His body is starting to change, and it fills him with disgust. Worse still, he finds himself envying his sister for some reason. It all floods him with shame. He needs to fight those feeling with everything he has. Being very clever for his age, he finds himself the youngest member of the student council. He becomes involved with the dueling game as it is revealed to him, and goes along with it, not wanting to act out of place. He gets a crush on Anthy, and is unable to figure out what the hell he should do about it. Later, he meets Utena, and the two become fast friends. And how lucky, his new friend is roommates with his crush! She’s just so perfect. She’s kind, and quiet, and chaste, not at all like his sister. He feels a kinship with her. And in an act of cosmic fate- she plays for him his favorite childhood arrangement. It’s just as Touga says. He can’t let the world get to her, the way its getting to his sister. The way its getting to him. He needs to make sure that Anthy, and his memories, are safe. But alas- it seems she doesn’t feel the same way. She’d rather be with Utena. Hopefully, Utena can protect her where he cannot. Miki and Utena go back to being friends, and he nurses his hurt feelings privately. It wouldn't do to make a scene about it, and besides, it wasn’t appropriate for him to think of her like that anyway. Thinking about anyone like that. He can’t help but feel disgusted with himself for allowing it. Later, his relationship with his sister continues to deteriorate, and his father is remarrying. But he can stick by his principles, and stay out of it all, the dueling especially. Kozue, Touga, and Akio have other plans. He is confronted with Reality, and it terrifies him. He sees himself in the drivers seat, Anthy his. This is what he is now, no point in trying to hide from it. He challenges Utena again, taking an early advantage utilizing his new resolve and Utena’s confusion. But that resolves breaks quickly. What is Kozue doing with Anthy?

Pay attention, or you’ll lose.

Fig 6: Crash!!

Miki is disgusted with himself, his role, because he does not want it. He hates what’s happening to himself and his family. He admires Utena and Juri, for embodying his ideal self. He listens to Touga, puts up with his music teacher, even if they make him feel gross and uncomfortable, because he feels he has to and that he doesn’t have a choice. He idolizes Anthy, so much. He is attracted to her, but maybe there is something more. Maybe, Miki wishes he could be her. Miki, in my mind, is a closeted trans lesbian going through puberty as a boy. I think that part of this might be projection, perhaps. But I hope that I might have made my case using the text of the show. But even if you disagree, I hope that you might have a better appreciation for his character. I think he’s fairly consistently people’s least favorite council member as a character, but honestly he’s my favorite and I think there’s a lot more too him than a lot of people give him credit for.

Fig 7: Three Lesbians Hanging Out

… this all being said. I think it’s interesting that Miki thinks Anthy is the picture of femininity right? That this is what he wants.

In the end, all girls are like the rose bride.

Please wait patiently while I make the case, that while Miki is an egg. Anthy has long since hatched...

(And I do mean be patient! This subject, and the concept that Ohtori represents a transmisogynystic institution at its very core, is WAY more personal than this headcanon, and also is much more of a difficult thing to write for dozens of reasons. I'm still not 100% sure it would even be right of me to post my thoughts on that publicly. But if enough people are interested, maybe that would motivate me to write it!)

*What’s a good Miki essay without some sort of Stopwatch Theory tm? Well (and I freely admit much of this is probably projection, but it’s not just me projecting! It’s also my girlfriend!!), Miki seems to get very wrapped up in his own thoughts. He is very self conscious, takes the criticisms of others very seriously, and also seems to get ideas about How Things Are Going To Happen in his head. He desperately tries to make sense of his surroundings, and finds himself consistently failing to do that. So my guess is the stopwatch is a way for him to regulate and calibrate his thoughts and hypotheses and self image. He picked it up in his duty as council secretary, but its something he feels is significant outside of that. Aha moment? Click. Unexpected end to a council meeting? Click. Something go completely as expected? Click. It helps him process I think. That is my formal Stopwatch Hypothesis tm.

Supplement Fig 1: Stopwatch

[isalisewrites]

A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part Two

Welcome to my ballsy series where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say ‘poor writer,’ I’m talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the overall plot of the books. 

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Part One Link.

Disclaimer for all readers of this series: 

I’m going to sound very confident in my posts where I work under the assumption I’m a better writer than JKR; because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You’re simply witnessing the culmination of over two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn’t just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

I’m not a perfect writer. No one is. I’m not a talented writer either. I’m experienced and skilled through years of study and practice.

I don’t care about J.K. Rowling. At all.

If you’re triggered by the concept and fact that JKR is a terrible crafter of writing, then you might want to take a step back and self reflect on that personal issue.

I still very much love and adore Harry Potter; you’re still allowed to love Harry Potter.

This is not a series to bitch or bash. This isn’t a shitpost. This isn’t an attack on JKR, no matter the disgusting bullshit she spews forth on Twitter. However, my hope is people awaken to the fact that JKR isn’t the goddess of writing we’ve all been led to believe.

This is a place of study and learning, where the purpose is to help students gain critical thinking skills and writing analysis tools to become better in their craft.

And, sorry, one more disclaimer for this specific post: 

Fanfiction is written for fun and is posted for free. I put most of my effort into my main fanfic, Terrible, But Great. (Yes, I intend to update Moon Rite soon, too) However, I also have two fanfics that are cowritten with another author; thus, the style of Shall I Stay and Badger Prey are understandably different. I spend three to four times the hours to edit a chapter versus drafting it. My process for fanfiction: I draft. I do one expansion edit. I do one proofread edit. I post.

However, if I were to publish a novel where people are expected to drop money on said book, my work flow would be vastly more extensive. To be clear, I’d do all of the following myself. I would not outsource. My process for published novels: I would draft. I would do three to four expansion edits. I would do two to three cutting edits. I would do three proofread edits. 

See the difference?

Because I don’t go through a cutting edit for my fanfiction, I’ll often come back later and see things I think are weak. I’m constantly seeing where I can tighten my work. There’s always room for improvement.

Remember: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is a paperback book that costs $10. My fanfics are free. If I, someone who writes for free and puts what she considers the bare minimum of effort into them, have a higher standard in the quality of my writing than a paid traditionally published novelist, there’s a problem here. 

All right, with that nonsense out of the way, buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Let’s begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we’re going to discuss these five pages from HP5 and dissect one paragraph and a line from page 731. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

(My favorite book in the series, btw. I fucking love fifth year the most. JKR did a damn good job with Umbridge.)

Since a certain anon lacked the skill to comprehend the difference between too much dialogue and stories driven by a high saturation of dialogue, let's go into further depth about dialogue.

What did I mean last week when I said: "Too much fucking dialogue!"

Today’s lesson will focus on the overall issue in JKR’s dialogue and in the prose surrounding those dialogue lines.

And since, apparently, I “lack the self awareness” to know most of my fics are “oversaturated with dialogue,” I’m going to use weaker examples of my own writing. Chapter 24 of TBG is heavily driven by dialogue with twenty-one named characters to juggle, something that's very difficult for me to manage. Though the chapter is lovely, I do feel it's some of my weaker work. In the end, I just didn’t have the energy to edit it a second time nor go through cutting edit.

Here are three different pages (some connected, some not) from Chapter 24 of Terrible, But Great. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

You can already see the difference, I'm sure.

So, what’s the difference between a scene that has 'too much fucking dialogue' versus a scene that is highly saturated with dialogue?

Because there is one.

Let's set the scene for HP5. In the middle of an OWL exam, Harry received a vision from Voldemort, showing him that Sirius has been captured. He's being tortured to get something from a shelf, but Sirius refuses. Harry believes the vision is real. He tells Ron and Hermione, then asks for their advice on how to rescue Sirius. Ron and Hermione are both like, pardon, wtf, sir? (As they should be.)

We have five pages of this fight between them. These five pages are mostly dialogue with very little else surrounding it.

Also, note the final page where it has the worst sins of adverb usage. That page is what triggered me to begin writing this series in the first place, btw.

There's too much dialogue here. There's no description. I'm being told stuff, but I'm not being shown anything. There are no emotional anchors to Harry either. The more I reread this scene, the more I realized what was wrong.

There’s an emotional disconnect from Harry in the prose.

Do not misunderstand me: it is NOT to say that Harry isn’t emotional here. It's that the prose doesn’t grip me, the reader, by the chest and twist my heart with his overwhelming emotions. The prose doesn't prove anything, doesn't show me anything. This is an intense, terrifying moment for Harry. It should feel visceral. It should feel tangible. I should be able to taste his fear.

We also don’t get too much information about the emotional states of Ron and Hermione. We have hints, of course. But we can’t feel them. The emotions of the scene are dampened, muffled, dull even.

With an untrained eye, you might disagree. It's okay. You'll see what I mean soon.

Page 731 exact quote:

"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there....He's torturing him....Says he'll end by killing him..." Harry found his voice shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.

(Btw, punctuation issue: you do not use an ellipsis and a period together and there should be a space after the ellipsis.)

This is the only instance in the five pages where we get any information about Harry's physical state.

And it's written in such a weak 'telling' instead of 'showing' way, too.

How and where was his voice shaking? How are his knees shaking? Are they knocking together in a weird way that's kind of physically improbable? Or was it actually his legs were shaking? Isn't he leaning against the door? If his weight was resting against the door, then there'd be less shaking in his knees or legs because his knees would be locked to brace his body against the door. His arms and hands would be shaking, though.

How does Harry master himself? What does that look like? Slow breaths? Running a hand through his hair? Rubbing his face and eyes? How is Harry mastering himself? Is it mentally? Then, where are those mastering thoughts? What are they and why do those thoughts in particular help Harry 'master' himself?

What's Harry's tone as he talking about Voldemort threatening to kill Sirius? How is Harry feeling about this? Give me MORE!

The dialogue is presented to the reader in a bland, empty fashion. Harry is relating something to Ron and Hermione. I could switch the dialogue out with anything and it'd still make sense.

There is little surrounding the dialogue to anchor it.

So, let's rewrite this, shall we?

"I dunno how," said Harry, letting out a shaky breath. His hands clenched into fists against the door of the classroom. "But I know where—they're in a room in the Department of Mysteries that's filled with rows of shelves holding these... weird little glass balls. They're in row ninety-seven. Voldemort, he's—" Harry's voice broke. His breath caught in his throat. The memory of the vision returned full force into his mind, the image of Sirius on the floor at Voldemort's feet stark in his mind. He ducked his chin; his chest inhaled in a desperate breath and the edges of his eyes burned. He's torturing Sirius—I can't just wait around. I can't lose him. Harry looked up at Ron, whose face had grown pale, while Hermione stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength in Harry's legs weakened. "He needs Sirius to get whatever it is he wants and he's—" Harry sucked in a gasp, his voice trembling like an autumn leaf in a thunderstorm. "—he's torturing Sirius... says he'll kill him in the end." His knees buckled. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk; Ron reached out with a steadying hand on Harry's upper arm and silent gratitude filled Harry's heart. With shaky arms, Harry lifted himself onto the desk to sit and twisted around to face Ron and Hermione. He licked his dry lips, rubbed his eyes with a hand, and took slow, deep breaths to master his fraying emotions.

The original canon text has 57 words of dialogue with a total of 83 words.

My rewritten version uses 56 words of dialogue with a total of 247 words.

I'm going to drill this concept into your heads, my lovely students: this is what I mean when I keep saying JKR's writing is both bloated and underwritten.

I only rewrote a single paragraph and its following line. The five pages I've provided are filled with this kind of empty dialogue.

So, what have I done here? Can you see the difference? Can you feel the difference?

Let's analyze what I focused on in this scene to show Harry's body language and his thoughts. I upped the physical effects on Harry's body. His fear causes his voice to break in the middle of explaining what's going on. He's terrified of losing Sirius, the only father figure he's ever known. Voldemort might take another parental figure from him. 

And now the prose reflects these feelings, not just in his thoughts, but also in how he speaks and reacts to what is around him. He is not just speaking at the reader.

Harry exists in his world. 

And you can feel it.

When he stumbles to the desk, Ron is there for him. Hermione reacting could also be added here. There is a lot that can be added to this scene, if one wanted to expand this further. 

Yes, what I've done has increased the word count, yet it strengthens this short moment—and I'd do this for the entire scene.

What I did to the scene is merely one version of its potential. It could be rewritten in a multitude of ways and go in various directions. I spent 10mins to 20mins on it. I haven't edited it or refined it.

Can you finally see what I mean now?

If you compare the highlighted pages of HP5 to the highlighted pages of Chp 24 of TBG, you can visually see the difference in the density of the dialogue. JKR is the one whose writing is oversaturated with dialogue. My writing will always be highly saturated with dialogue because my stories are character driven. I prefer stories like that. But I also need the dialogue to be interesting and engaging, where the character feels alive in their world.

When I say there's too much dialogue, this scene is such a good example of this because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all over the place in their interactions with each other. Yes, you want your characters to sound realistic, but you're also the author curating an experience for the reader.

There's a balancing tightrope act between having realistic dialogue and unnecessary dialogue.

There's a thin line between showing too much and telling too little.

Lastly, if I were to improve the overall scene, I would center the focus on Harry's desperation to rescue Sirius. As Ron and Hermione try to talk him out of it, where Hermione delivers that iconic line of 'you have a people saving thing,' I'd have Harry explode with something like this:

"You don't know what's it like! You both have your parents—I-I don't... You'd feel the same as me if it were either of your parents being tortured by Voldemort, yeah? I can't lose him—I can't lose Sirius."

I'm not bothering with description around it right now. I just wanted to give the baseline dialogue to show you the theme I'd carry through this scene. It's all about Sirius. It's all about the fear of losing him. It's about showing the emotion of the character and making the reader feel that deeply.

And that's what matters the most.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part Two in this series. We have discussed fives pages in JKR's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The pages in question are 731 - 735 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

[lttl3babybug]

Gently squeezing your face, hello honey!! (If your not okay with nicknames let me know!!)

Could I ask forrrr hm, either caregiver Stolas or caregiver Asmodeus ( >w<) with a baby regressor? Preferably padded but no force!! I hope you have a lovely day my dearest ~

HIII, I absolutely adore nicknames :3 but of course! I just posted some cg Stolas so I can give you Cg!Ozzie!! (Apologies if this is nonsensical I wrote it at 6am with an hour and 40 minutes of sleep maximum)

Cg!Asmodeus & Baby!Regressor!Reader headcanons!

🩵Ozzie is just the sweetest, we’ve seem how gentle he is with fizz so we know he’s an absolutely amazing cg :(

🩵Ozzie is a big guy, like he’s huge. He’s gonna pick you up at every opportunity he can

🩵Due to his height he likes to remind you just how little you are

“Aw look at you…just a tiny baby aren’t you, hm? Nothing but an itty bitty baby. Look at how tiny you are compared to me!”

🩵Good Gods above he will spoil you to the ends of hell and back

🩵You have more paci’s than you can count, he just sees them and gets them for you because he loves surprising you

🩵Seeing how excited you get when when he says he has a surprise for you and his wide your eyes go.

🩵Now if you’re a nonverbal baby you needn’t Fret. Ozzie is a master at deciphering your babbles

🩵Making grabby hands at something you want or someone who’s attention you crave? He’s on it, giving you whatever you want (if it’s appropriate that is) and dragging over whatever one of his assistants has caught your fancy today

🩵Ozzie has a whole room dedicated to your safe space, it’s one of the only places he feels it’s okay to leave you unsupervised

🩵Being the sin of lust of course his place isn’t exactly…child appropriate. But this room is full of nothing but toys, stuffies, baby books, blankets, the whole shebang

🩵Course he loves playing with you too, big fan of playing the damsel in distress for you to rescue

🩵But he also loves reading to you and doing your baby puzzles with you!

🩵Watching your face light up with joy as you solve the jigsaw in front of you and signal for his attention by whiney or making general babble noises in his direction

🩵If you’re feeling bratty or generally stubborn he tends to talk through things before sending you to time out, making sure you’re calm and understand why you’re being put in that position.

🩵Now Ozzie with a padded regressor is a whole different thing

🩵This was something he discussed with you while big, he’d noticed you’d started slipping further than usual (course he wasn’t mad about that at all) and that lead to accidents and tears

🩵He made 1000% sure that you were comfortable with this happening, with him changing you, with him seeing you like that in such a vulnerable state

🩵And even after having you give him both verbal and written consent that it was okay he still asks you before he changes you. Just incase

“Are you okay with me taking this off you sweetheart? I don’t want you getting a rash down there baby…it’s okay if not. I’m sure you’re smart enough to change yourself”

🩵Placing you on the changing table and distracting you the whole time by holding a stuffie above you or asking you about your favourite book or game

🩵He makes sure you’re keeping clean down there at all times, checking you every 30 minutes- an hour

🩵You have the comfiest pull ups or dips you could ever imagine, so pretty too!

[hamiltonaf]

Daddy’s Princess | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Dad!Kylian Mbappé x Mom!Female Reader

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Angst if you squint but mainly fluff

A/N: Hi my loves. Apologies I’ve been away for so long, I had so much going on but now I’m back. This has been in my drafts for so long, I think it came to a point where I was writing this half asleep. Not proofread, hope you babes enjoy.

Also, you’re more than welcome to send requests .xx

1 year. A year filled with ups and down, but ups for the most of it ever since giving birth to my bundle of joy, Sofia. I couldn’t believe how quickly a whole year has flew by and she’s already one.

The downside of this one year was the harsh break up between Kylian and I just a few weeks after Sophia was born. Post-partum depression was already bad, the break up just made it all worse. Everything was perfectly fine, or so I thought, Kylian was so excited for us to finally be parents and so was I. Little did I know that he wasn’t ready for the odd hours of waking up for feeding or hearing cry’s then having to wake up in a couple of hours for training, plus balancing our relationship, it was apparently all too much for him to handle so he felt the need to sacrifice our relationship to make it easier for him to focus on his career.

He was so used to being an uncle that he didn’t realise that parenting was a whole other ball game. I was willing to reason with him and do all night duties so he can sleep in but unfortunately that wasn’t good enough. Co-parenting isn’t easy.

It really sucks to co-parent because even though Kylian and I have broken up, I still have to see him every weekend when he comes over to spend time with her or he picks her up to take her out for the day. We’re civil, basically acting as if we’re friends, but who are we kidding ? Ever since Sofia was 4 months I’ve noticed Kylian being particularly nice to me, passing compliments, asking me to tag along with him when it’s his turn to spend the day with Sofia, interacting with my socials a lot more…something is cooking.

Unfortunately my pettiness is here to stay, so whenever he’s being ‘overly’ nice, I just brush it off like it’s nothing. It just bothers me that he didn’t try hard enough and think about what I was going through. It was hard when I eventually had to go to work, I was so attached to Sofia that I didn’t want to leave her but I didn’t have much of a choice. The last thing I need to hear whilst I’m depressed is that I wanted to have Kylian’s baby just to get money. Absolute nonsense.

The interesting thing is that even though Kylian isn’t with us everyday of the week 24/7, once Sofia is with her dad she doesn’t want to leave him. She’s so attached to him, funnily enough that she doesn’t even bother crying for me when I’m around.

So since she’s daddy’s little princess, Kylian insisted that we had to have a big first birthday party for her at his place. I went along with it and we both settled on a Disney princess theme.

Kylian had outdone himself, the party was as big and fancy as one would throw when they turn 16. I invited a few people from my side, majority family and a few friends.

Sophia was looking absolutely adorable in a pink puffy dress with a gold crown to top it off. I held Sophia on my hip as I greeted the guests, it’s as if Sophia has a sixth sense that she spotted Kylian approaching us from behind. She immediately started jumping and squealing, eagerly waiting for her dad to carry her. “Is that Princess Sophia ?” He said in shock. I smiled at their interaction as she nodded her head and got shy.

“Come here princess” he held his arms out for her which she happily jumped into his embrace. “My baby looks so cute. Who picked out your dress ?” He pecked her cheek. “Mama” she said as she pointed at me. My heart melted. “Who dresses you better princess ?” I wiggled my brows at her. “Mama” she admitted shyly. “You made daddy sad” he pouted as he faked a cry. Sophia falling for it, she cupped his face and kissed his nose. Catching us both off guard, Kylian and I burst out laughing. “Bubs you’re too cute” I said as I cupped her cheeks with one hand and kissed her cheek. “Doesn’t mama look so beautiful” he said as he looked at Sophia. I suddenly froze. Was not expecting that.

“That’s because mama is a princess” she smiled. “Awww my little pumpkin pie, give mama a kiss” I leaned in and pouted at her, which she gave me a kiss. “Does dad get a kiss from mama too ?” He playfully asked. I gave him a side-eye. Just then our interaction was disrupted when someone hugged be from behind, catching me by surprise. “Darling” a familiar voice said. I turned around and was met by my work friend, Nate. “Oh my god ! Nate ! I’m so glad you could make it” I said as I pulled him in for a hug. Nate is a good friend of mine from work. I believe the crucial thing to mention here is that Nate has a girlfriend, whom which I’m very good friends with as well, unfortunately she couldn’t make it since she was away on a work trip… life of a model.

Kylian hasn’t met him or heard of him up until now. “Nate, I’d like you to meet Kylian, Sophia’s dad and my little princess, Sophia !” I introduced them. “Pleasure to meet you” they shook hands but Kylian didn’t look too pleased. “And look at this girl, beautiful like her mum” he cooed at Sophia. “So I’ve been told” I said proudly. Sophia got shy and cuddled up closer to Kylian. “Anyway let me not take up too much of your time. I’ll meet with the others in the mean time” Nate said with a soft smile and excused himself. It was so obvious that the energy changed in the air, well for me at least.

“I can’t believe you did that” Kylian said. “Excuse me ? Did what ?” I raised a brow in confusion. “Do you really think this is the time and place to bring a lover of yours ? That too to introduce our daughter to ?” He lowered his voice just so I could hear him. “What the…are you okay ? If you don’t know what’s going on, then don’t give me your 2 cents !” I said back. “I know exactly what’s going on. I’m not stupid. Keep him away from Sophia.”

“I- you know what… believe what you want” I rolled my eyes at him. “Let’s go bub” I said as I held my arms out for her. She happily obliged to jump into my arms as we walked away. I can’t believe he got so jealous.

I ended up getting caught up in a conversation with my mum and Fayza, mainly because I had their granddaughter in my arms. I was baffled mid conversation when the topic of discussion was about having another child. Did Kylian not tell them about our break up or are they assuming we’re back together. I didn’t even bother arguing with them to avoid any further drama.

Kylian took me by surprise when he took the initiative to be the MC. Everyone had dropped their conversations to go get seated, while I had to go stand beside Kylian since I had Sophia with me. “Hello everyone and welcome to my baby’s first birthday !” Kylian announced as everyone erupted into cheers, Sophia had joined everyone as she clapped along, making us giggle and look at her in awe.

“This party would not have been possible without you all so thank you to every one of you for coming” he paused as everyone started clapping. He then glanced at me for a brief second before placing a hand on my back and pulling me to stand closer to him. “This party would also not be possible without my (Y/N), who has given me the greatest blessing of being a father. I will forever be thankful for all that you did and continue to do. Thank you for also shaping me into being a better version of myself. Lastly, thank you for helping me out and telling me what Sophia needs when she’s crying” everyone had burst into laughter at his last line.

“So a round of applause for (Y/N) !” He yelled as everyone followed by cheering. He then turned to look at me as he pulled me in for a hug. My heart had completed melted at his speech. More especially when he referred to me as my (Y/N). He released from our hug and kissed my cheek. It’s as if we forgot that we had Sophia in between us, it was only until she said “I love you mama” and kissed my other cheek that I snapped back into reality. “I love you more bubba” I smiled and kissed her cheek.

We then sang for her and cut her cake before everyone was free to mingle and eat. Sophia was actually starting to get crabby I guess with all the attention she was itching to play with the other kids so I accompanied her on the jumping castle. Low-key reliving my childhood through Sophia.

Nate then caught me by surprise when he joined us on the jumping castle, we were laughing more than talking. I guess our laugh was that loud that it caught Kylian’s attention. “Dada jump !” Sophia squealed as soon as she saw Kylian make his way towards us.

She quickly lost interest in jumping in these few minutes that she sprinted into her dads arms. “Tired bubs ?” He asked her softly as she cradled her face into his neck. She shook her head. “Do you want your bottle ?” He asked. She nodded her head. He then gave me a glance as a sign of help. I quickly said goodbye to Nate to help Kylian out.

“Wanna come by mama ?” I cooed. She shook her head as if I was a stranger. I gasped in shock. “You just broke mama’s heart” I faked a cry. Sophia actually started giggling. As we were walking into the house, both our mums spotted us walking together. “Aww where are you taking our baby ?” Fayza cooed. “She’s hungry, (Y/N/N) and I will take care of her” Kylian said. Both of our mums shared a look before moving out of our way.

Once we were inside, it was total peace and silence. Just the three of us, with of course the party happening being a soft background noise. Kylian sat her on the kitchen counter top and was about to make her bottle but I stopped him. “Watch her..I’ll do it” I said with a soft smile. He then kept her occupied by making small talk with her and played a game.

It didn’t take me long to make her bottle. After testing to see if the temperature was fine, I shook the bottle in front of her to see her reaction. “Who do you want to feed you ?” I playfully asked. “Mama !” She squealed. “Now you’re leaving dada for mama ?” Kylian acted offended and faked a cry. In the cutest way possible, she covered her eyes with her tiny hands and the cutest smile on her face. I cradled her in my arms and walked over to the couch to sit down. She held her own bottle and got distracted when Kylian started making faces at her. “Oii stop it” I joked. He then sat down beside me. “Is it a good time to talk now ?” He asked curiously. “Depends on what the topic is” I said as I glanced over.

“It’s about us” he hesitantly answered. I remained silent for a while before speaking up, “Not the perfect timing but I can’t run away from this so you might as well just be frank” I shrugged. “I feel terrible ever since I left you and Soph. It was wrong of me to let you take care of her on your own when you needed me the most. Spending time with the both of you in these last few months have shown what I was missing out on this whole time. I want to be with you every step of the way to take care and watch our little princess grow” he said. I was left speechless. “I know it’s a lot right now, but I obviously wouldn’t have dropped this on you if our feelings weren’t mutual” he smiled softly. “How do you know our feelings are mutual ?” I raised a brow.

“I notice the little things, when you get flustered after I compliment you. Especially earlier when I asked for a kiss until that idiot ruined our moment” he said annoyed. “Wait wait… is this about Nate ?” I furrowed my brows. “No !” He scoffed. “Oh my god. It is ! You’re jealous of him aren’t you ?” I started giggling. “What ? Me.. jealous ? No” he laughed. “Ky, I just know when you’re lying” I shook my head trying to fight back a smile. Sophia finished her bottle and handed it over to me. I then held her upright against my chest to rub her back. “Okay fine. I was triggered to do this sooner. I’ll forever hate myself if I didn’t try to make things right with you. I don’t want to lose my girls. I’ve always loved you and never stopped loving you”

I was taken aback by everything he said. “Why didn’t you come back then ?” I asked. “Because I figured you wouldn’t want me back so soon after I what I did. You didn’t deserve that and I thought I didn’t deserve you, but I couldn’t let you go.. after all I’m still in love with you. So I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me and allow me to have a second chance” he said hopeful. I sighed. “You’re making this harder because I literally see Sophia’s face when you look like that” he broke into a smile. Speaking of Sophia, she fell off to sleep. Sleeping beauty. “You’re lucky you’re her dad” I smiled.

“So you forgive me ?” He broke into a smile. I nodded my head. He was about to make noise until I shushed him and pointed at Sophia. “Oh sorry” he said in a hushed tone. He then pecked Sophia’s forehead then looked at me. “What ?” I asked confused. “You didn’t answer my question from earlier” he grinned. “Which was ?” I raised a brow. “Can daddy get a kiss too ?” He wiggled his brows. “I’m feeling petty so not right now” I grinned. “Ahh chérie just one” he pouted. “Later Kyky” I said as I stood up. He then took Sophia from my arms and carried her. “I think I’ve been tortured enough by how you look every time I see you” he pouted. “Nice try” I then surprised him by pecking his lips. “That was too short” he pouted.

[whowantslovergirl]

Why are you here?

Nate Jacobs x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: a lil bit of smut, suggestive lyrics ig, there is so much song fics i deeply apologize, cursing, this is before Maddy but they’re in junior year already, so like beginning of junior year, Y/N HAVING THE MOST SELF RESPECT, Nate Jacobs, mgk song 🤠,italics are flashbacks,^ this means start the song 💋 hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍

euphoria masterlist

Summary: Nate and Y/N are so bad for each other

posted: February 12,2024

Nate and Y/N broke up two months ago and Nate still thinks they’re together. She can never move on. He definitely cannot move on. They are terrible for each other and they know that but they still find each other. ^

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

You were at some random party. Maddy forced you to come. You were having fun until you saw him, your ex, on some other girl grinding on her. You can’t be mad. You had a date but still why is he with another girl.

_____

It was 12:05 you guys were both in the bathroom.

Fucking.

You can’t believe you did this.

“I can’t believe I did this! Get out of me Nate!” He finished and you were freaking out. You put your hands on your face freaking out. The main reason you were mad is because this is not the first time this happened.

“Calm down Y/N it’s not that serious.”

“To you! I promised myself that this bathroom thing will not happen again!” You rushed out of the bathroom leaving him.

I'm not myself

I'm not myself when you're around, no

Can't be helped

We are insane, that's just the way it goes

Nate and Y/N are back together for the tenth? time and it’s good for now.

Until you saw him with Maddy.

_____

“Maddy, Nate? Are you serious?”

“It’s not that serious Y/N.”

“You always say that! But if it was my ex you would be throwing a bitch fit!”

and he did.

**Flashback**

“Why the fuck were you talking to him!” Nate was screaming because you talking to your ex.

He accidentally bumped into you and said sorry and you said it’s fine.

That was the whole conversation.

“I’m sorry is two words talking now?! All I said was it’s fine!”

“Bullshit!”

You rolled your eyes. “Unbelievable Un fucking believable!”

**End of Flashback**

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told me keep on all the lights

I'ma show you what you like

Two months later. Everyone is at a party.

And Nate is trying to get back together again.

“Come on you know we’re perfect for each other!”

“No we’re really not Nate. Please leave me alone. I have pepper spray and a pocket knife in my bag.” Then you walked away trying to leave.

Help you put back on your clothes

Make sure nothing's on your nose

Ain't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

“We’re really not right?” Nate said smirking. The bathroom shit happened again.

“Shut the fuck up Nate.” You said rolling your eyes. He can see you struggling with your dress and helps you.

“Oh I bet you’re gonna brag about this huh? ‘Oh yea I fucked her again!’ right?”

“I actually never told anyone about this.” You just roll your eyes and left. That is such bullshit.

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

“Fuck!” You said finishing. He groaned and slipped out of you. “We really need to stop this nonsense Nate.”

“Why Y/n? Nothing is going wrong.”

“To you Nate! I promised myself I wouldn’t do this shit with you again!” He tried to speak but you just left. He smirked and left slightly after.

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

“We can never be friends. We are way past that point.” You said while in Nate’s room. He asked if you guys can talk and you said yes.

“Yea friends don’t do what we do.” He said laughing.

“This isn’t funny Nate! We’re done. I’m done.” You said trying to walk out but he grabbed your arm. “If you’re done why was I inside you last night?”

“Ugh you’re an asshole!”

“I know. So I’ll see you in the bathroom Y/n.” You didn’t say anything and left like always.

I couldn't cry

I need to smoke, I'm feeling sick inside

From seeing you next to a friend of mine

We didn't speak but I read your mind

Both telling lies, our alibis didn't work this time

It’s been six months since you guys last fucked in the bathroom. And you’ve been taking care of yourself not worrying about Nate. You’re with McKay just talking, not anything special just catching up as two friends.

Nate saw this and just walked out, mad that you’re not talking to him or laughing with him. He’s so fucking angry.

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told her keep on all the lights

You can show me what you like

“Hey angel.” You jumped because you didn’t know he was in there, in your room. “Nate get out.”

“You know you don’t want me to do that. I just wanna see you.”

“Well I don’t want to see you so get out.” He starts getting closer and the back of your knees hit the bed causing you to fall on the bed. He slowly comes on top of you and starts kissing, biting, and licking your neck.

“Nate stop.” You said pushing him away.

“You don’t really want me to stop do you?” You just stay silent and he takes off your shirt then his own.

“Ima show you what you like baby.”

Help me put back on my clothes

Make sure nothing's on my nose

Can't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

Nate and Y/n are now dating (again) but secretly this time. You didn’t want the backlash from your friends and Nate was going with it because you told him too. He couldn’t give less of a fuck.

You guys are about to go to a party but got occupied with each other. Before you were about to go. “Wait Nate, you have stuff on your nose.” You said as you wipe the ‘stuff’ off his nose.

“Thanks baby.”

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

Nate and Y/n broke up again. They were at a party, saw the other with someone else, 12:05 hit the clock and they were back in the bathroom.

“We really need to stop Nate!”

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

You were calling Nate seeing if he’s busy and he picked up immediately.

“Hey angel.” You roll your eyes. “Hi Nate.”

“Why are you calling me?” You can hear the tiredness in his voice but you ignore it.

“I was saying that it’s over like forever. And I’m probably gonna go back but I just want some type of closure.”

“Ok…” He sat up in his bed and was about to say something but you beat him too it. “So bye Nate.”

Yeah, I know that I said I was at home

Okay, yeah, you caught me

I thought that you said you were all alone

Look at you lying

You’re at another party and you saw Nate. He said he was home. You walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder and he turned around looking like he seen a ghost. “I thought you were home Nate. I want to talk to you.”

“Don’t pin this on me Y/n. You said you were all alone. Look at you lying.”

“Shut the fuck up. Now come on I want to fuck you one last time before I actually end this.” His mouth opened a little bit but he smirked.

“Lead the way angel.”

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

After you guys were done. You sat on the sink and he sat across from you on the bathtub.

“Were you serious about you ending things for good?” He said breaking the silence. You just nodded and his head went in his hands.

“I really hate the way you make me feel Nate. We gotta end this for good. The only reason it didn’t happen sooner was because you didn’t want to end. You gotta let go Nate.”

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

We can never be friends

After you told Nate that it was over, he went completely MIA, missing classes, not going to practice. He can’t even fathom that this is happening. He thought you guys were forever.

That Y/n and Nate were forever.

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

An: HSIEJDIDJ ok but if you didn’t get the time placement THIS IS BEGINNING JUNIOR YEAR meaning that it just started so basically Y/n was Nate’s villain origin story 😔 BUT HOPED YOU ENJOYED MY LOVERS 🤍🤍

[aemondsbabe]

A Promise is a Promise

summary: promises & phone sex || tom's trying his best to make it home to you by christmas, but a snowstorm derails his plans

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, phone sex, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, breast/nipple play, very slight angst but happy ending, probably not historically accurate bite me, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: happy day eleven of 12 days of smuff and happy christmas eve to everyone who celebrates!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as a part 2 to Homecoming or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @rxyl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Your breath fogs up the window as you look outside one last time, sighing heavily as you watch puffy snowflakes rain down from the sky, scattering through the pale yellow shafts of light from the street lamps. You peer up and down the quiet street, frowning at the sight of all the twinkling lights and festive candles that decorated so many of the townhouses, feeling decidedly un-cheery this year. 

Deciding that it wasn’t worth it to torture yourself further, you pad up the stairs to your bedroom, trying to ignore the soft glow from the Christmas tree in the front room. Your footsteps sound much louder than normal in the quiet house since your parents were out for the evening, attending some holiday party at a friend's house, one that you were in much too foul of a mood to even consider attending. 

You’ve hardly had the chance to change your clothes before the phone in your room starts ringing loudly, making you jump. Sitting on your bed, you roll your eyes as you reach for it, expecting it to be your parents or some friend, calling half drunk from a party no doubt. 

“Hello?” You sigh, pressing the phone to your ear as you stare disdainfully out the window, watching more and more of the traitorous snow fall from the dark sky. 

“Well, try not to sound too excited.” A familiar voice chuckles, instantly making you perk up.

“Tom?!” Your eyes widen as you press the phone harder against your ear, “Where are you? Are you okay? I thought you said you’d be home this afternoon!”

You can hear him laugh on the other end of the line at your rushed questions. “Relax, love, I’m fine,” he sighs, you can hear springs squeak softly in the background, like he’d sat down on a bed, “The train’s just got delayed, ice on the rails or some fucking nonsense, and with the damn snowstorm, well…” He sighs heavily.

“Delayed for how long?” You ask, crestfallen. 

“Dunno, the man at the station said maybe a day, maybe two,” you can practically hear his frustrated sneer, “What with it being Christmas eve, everything’s just a damn wreck, apparently.”

“Oh…” You try not to sound too heartbroken, not wanting him to feel worse, “Well, did you find somewhere to stay in the meantime? I hate the idea of you sitting at the station.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “Some shoddy little inn. The train had to stop at some farming town in the middle of God knows where, but a bed’s a bed, I suppose.” You can hear two thuds in the background, no doubt him tossing his boots off somewhere carelessly. 

“I’m glad you’re somewhere safe, Tommy,” you smile sadly, idly fidgeting with the bottom of your night shirt, well, really his nightshirt, “I wish you were with me, though.” You whisper, trying to ignore the sad little squeeze your heart gave. 

“Wish I was too, love.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, happy to simply listen to each other breathe after so many months apart. You really are trying not to let it get to you too much, but he only got so many days of leave from the RN and once he got shipped back out… you dare not think about it too deeply. 

There’s some rustling on the other end of the line and you furrow your brows as you listen, hoping the storm isn’t interfering with the phone lines too. 

“Tom?”

“‘M here,” he reassures you, springs creaking again as he settles back on the hotel bed, “Was just taking off my shirt.” He cooed, making you roll your eyes as you picture his playful smirk, your cheeks flushing as you imagined that cheeky little head bop that followed most of his lewd comments. 

“Now there’s a sight I’d like to see.” You hum, reclining back against the many pillows on your bed with a small smirk.

“Bet you’d be falling all over yourself for it,” he laughs, propping up a knee, “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long without it.”

“Without what?”

“My cock.” He answers, voice confident and cocky. 

“Tommy!” You squeak, giggling despite yourself, which makes him chuckle on the other end, “And here I was hoping months away would turn you into a romantic!”

“Fat chance, love.” He laughs heartily, smiling genuinely for the first time in months. 

Again, a comfortable silence washes over the two of you, each of you clinging to the phone like it was truly a lifeline, feeling closer than you have in months although you’re God knows how many kilometers apart. 

He sighs again, though this one makes you smile. It’s a familiar sigh, one he only does before he says something he knows will get a rise out of you.

“What’re you wearing?” You can hear his smirk, you can practically feel it on you as he speaks, his voice already low and raspy. 

You can’t help the tittering little giggle you let out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush further. “Erm, just your button down, actually,” you say, shy all of a sudden as you squirm atop your covers, “The one you wore in secondary some days… oh, and knickers.”

“And knickers,” he murmurs, quiet for a moment before continuing, “My girl in my shirt n’ I’m not there to see it. A real shame.”

“Yeah…” you whisper, fidgeting with the small buttons lining the front. 

“D’you have my shirt buttoned, love?”

“Yes?”

“You think you could unbutton it for me?”

The way he asks for it has your heart racing, excitement building steadily within you as you rub your thighs together, already seeking something to lessen the tension within you. Almost automatically, your hands reach for the buttons as you cradle the phone on your shoulder, holding it in place with your cheek. 

“Yes, Tommy.”

“That’s a good girl, love.” He praises, chuckling lowly as a small, delicate whimper just barely makes it through the phone lines. 

You scramble, all but ripping the shirt in two until finally the fabric falls away. You’re already breathing heavier, chest heaving enough to have the shirt slip off your chest instantly; your nipples harden quickly in the cool air of your bedroom, the small radiator only doing so much to heat the space. 

“It’s unbuttoned.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut as you desperately try to envision him doing the same. 

“God, I wish I was there,” he sighs and your ears perk up when you hear a soft tinkling in the background, cheeks heating up at the thought of him slowly taking off his belt, “I miss those perfect fucking tits, lovely girl. Got off thinking about them every night.”

“Yeah?” You ask breathily, your fingers skimming softly over your stomach, coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. 

“Mhm,” he murmurs, already breathing hotly into the phone, “Pinch them for me, pretty girl, yeah? Like I would.”

You gasp and quickly do as he requests, not being able to hold off any longer yourself. You whimper into the receiver as you tweak your nipples, your eyes roll back in your head at the thrill that shoots down your spine and settles right between your legs. 

“Fuck, good girl.” He praises again, sounding like he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

“What’re you wearing?” You ask breathily, lightly tugging at your stiff nipples still as you rub your thighs together, your center already aching, “What’re you doing?” 

“‘M rubbing my cock through my boxers,” he sighs heavily, “S’all I’ve got on.”

The thought makes you whimper again, imagining him cupping his already twitching length through the thin fabric of his underwear. Your mouth waters as you picture a wet patch near the tip, his cock leaking at the thought of you. 

“Tommy,” you sigh as your back arches into your own touch, “Can I?” 

Your meek question makes him chuckle. “Can you do what, love? You’ll need to be specific.”

You whine this time, biting your lip as your cheeks flush. “C-Can I…” you start, still feeling so impossibly shy around him sometimes, “Can I touch myself?”

“Thought you were already touching your tits?”

“Tommy!”

“C’mon, pretty,” he laughs, licking his lips as he imagines how cute you must look, cheeks all blushed with embarrassment, “Y’know what I wanna hear.”

“Can I touch my cunt?” You murmur, voice high-pitched and breathy.

“Fuck,” he breathes, head lolling back against his pillow, “Yeah, y’can, love, lemme hear you.”

Mindlessly, your hand drifts down. You don’t even bother to take off your panties, too impatient to go to the trouble as you shove your hand inside. A moan is punched out of you at the first touch, your core already throbbing as you glide your fingers through your slick folds. Tom groans along with you as your fingers finally begin swirling around your clit, your thighs spreading further. 

“What, shit,” you sigh, a shudder rippling up your spine, “What’re you doing now?”

“Got my cock out,” he rasps, his voice catching, “Thinking about you while I fuck my hand, God, I wish it was your tight cunt, pretty girl.”

You whine again, back arching once more as your fingers skim over your clit before dipping down to gather more slick from your dripping entrance. You all but see stars when you rub yourself again, core clenching around nothing. 

“Wish you were here…” You murmur, breath catching as you move your hand a little quicker. 

“Yeah?” He asks in a low voice, “What would you want me to do?”

“Fuck me,” you whine, wiggling your hips impatiently, like he was just at the end of the bed teasing you instead of lost somewhere in the countryside, “Want you to fuck me, Tommy.”

He groans, louder than he probably should in a small inn. Your face flushes when you hear him spit, imaging his cock glistening as he uses it to stroke himself. 

“Christ, I miss that pretty cunt,” he mutters, breath catching, probably speeding up in time with you, “Get a finger in there, love, fuck yourself like I would.”

Obediently, you do as he says, rutting against your own hand as you unceremoniously push two fingers into yourself, marveling at how tightly your walls already clench around them. 

“Fuck, Tommy!” You squeak, clit tingling every time your palm smacks against it as you fuck youself. 

“God, that’s it,” he groans, “Keep going, fuck, ‘m not gonna last.” He warns, knowing it’s been too long since he’d last had any privacy. 

“‘M not going to either,” you assure him, shaking your head to your empty room as if he could see you, “Feels too good, oh!” You gasp, your whole body tensing up as you crook your fingers up, expertly locating that sensitive spot within you. 

The two of you pleasure yourselves together for another few moments, heavy breaths and moans passing between the phones. Finally, Tom groans lowly again and swears through gritted teeth. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he pants, the slick sound of his hand streaking over his cock in the background nearly makes you unravel, “Cum with me, pretty girl, please.”

The whiny way he says please is your undoing and you finally break, calling out his name breathily as you arch against your sheets. Slick sounds fill your bedroom as you peak, breathless at the way your core clenches rhythmically over your fingers. 

Tom isn’t far behind you, his rough groans only adding to your pleasure. You whimper when he hisses out your name as he finishes, envisioning the way he paints his lower stomach with spend, cock twitching against his palm. 

You breathe heavily for a moment as you both come down before you dissolve into giggles, your sour mood from earlier almost completely gone. 

“Fucked you dumb n’ I’m not even there,” Tom gloats, sighing as he wipes away his cum with his boxers, too tired to get up and clean himself off properly, “You’re gonna make me blush, love.” 

“Tommy!” You groan playfully, admonishing him through a giggle, “You’re horrible.”

“You love it.” He laughs tiredly, yawning quietly. 

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, the bed squeaking again as he makes himself comfortable, “Sorry love, s’been a long day.”

“I would imagine so,” you smile sadly still, twirling the phone cord around a finger, “I’ll let you sleep.”

“I’ll get to you tomorrow,” he promises, his voice heavy with sleep, “I swear, told you I’d be back for Christmas.”

“Tommy…” You sigh, glancing out the window to see snow still pouring from the sky.

“I mean it,” he murmurs tiredly, “A promise is a promise.”

You wake with a start, jerking up in bed as you look around blearily, unsure of what woke you. Your eyes narrow as you glance at the clock on your bedside table, too early still for even your alarm to be going off. 

You jump as you hear a knock from downstairs, someone pounding at the door. Rolling your eyes, you slip on a robe before making your way downstairs. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You sigh, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you reach for the doorknob, tugging it open with a frown. 

“Wha–” You stop in your tracks, gasping loudly.

“Y’gonna let me in or are you gonna leave me out here to freeze my bollocks off?” Tom asks with a grin, laughing when you practically leap into his arms and pull him into a suffocating hug. 

“Tommy!” You gasp, clinging to him, “How did you, when did you?” You stutter, a million questions running through your mind. Finally, you pull back just enough to look at him, nearly crying as you at last look into his familiar blue eyes, “How?” You breathe.

“A very nice famer with a truck,” he laughs, holding you tightly to him, “Told ya I’d get home to you by Christmas.” 

Not being able to hold off anymore, you press your lips against his, feeling warm despite the cold.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[charmandabear]

Blood and Brandy

Summary:

Astarion and Jaheira both need a little bit of a release after the events with the Elder Brain.

Pairing: Astarion/Jaheira Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.3k Tags/Warnings: outdoor sex, piv, cunnilingus, vampire bites, praise kink, pet names

She's writing again! And this one was particularly fun to write, thank you @whispering-depths for the commission! I've gotten into the gif making game, so here are a few more inspired by this fic. Also, huge shout outs to @githyankidanky, @danse--macabre, and @sanguine-sunlight for championing the Jahstarion tag, y'all are the real heroes of this fic.

Read it on AO3.

Astarion comes swaggering into the Elfsong, waving down Alan for his usual post-hunt wine. It’s rarely a pleasant taste, but after the thrill of taking down an elk twice the size of him, he needs something to help him settle down enough to trance. He has no idea what time it is, only that it’s after midnight, so he’s surprised to see Jaheira sitting in an armchair in the corner, nursing a brandy and reading an issue of The Baldur’s Mouth. After swiping his wine glass off the bar, he makes his way over to her, hoping that his gait is more of a saunter than a stumble.

“Well if it isn’t the noble Jaheira,” he croons, perching himself on the arm of her chair and leaning his elbow onto the back. “Don’t you know that the Witching Hour is only for vampires and the deeply lonely?”

“How convenient, then, that you are both,” she lobs back at him, keeping her eyes on her newspaper.

Astarion gasps dramatically, clutching invisible pearls at his chest. “Jaheira, I’m hurt! How can you call me lonely when I have such lovely company right here?” He leans over her shoulder and her musky fragrance mixes with the spice of brandy, the intoxicating combination going directly to his head.

Jaheira drops her paper slightly, looking up at Astarion over her reading glasses. “I am not fooled by your theatrics, Astarion, I saw your little pout when you learned that Tav went to Avernus with Karlach.” She folds up her paper and smirks. “It isn’t easy seeing your ex and their new beau together.”

Astarion bristles slightly before slipping the mask back on. “Nonsense, Tav and I both agreed it was for the best to remain friends back at Last Light, I couldn’t be happier for them and Karlach.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaheira deadpans, thoroughly unconvinced. “And after they helped free you from your old master’s control, your feelings about intimacy did not change?”

Astarion sweeps over to the chair across from Jaheira, dropping himself into it and crossing his legs. He studies her for a moment, simultaneously discomforted and intrigued by her surprisingly accurate read on him. She smirks, the skin around her striking hazel eyes crinkling, and Astarion shifts under her penetrating gaze.

“Why do you ask, are you interested?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, although whether from nervousness or simply old habits, he’s unsure. 

“A cute young thing like you?” Jaheira barks out a laugh. “I’m not sure if I could keep up.”

Astarion giggles, a little surprised by the giddy twinge that shoots through his core. “Jaheira, I’m older than you, by a good century.”

“And yet your skin is so smooth and supple. You must tell me your skincare secrets.” She narrows her eyes mischievously, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her brandy.

“A steady diet of the blood of the innocents will do wonders for your complexion,” Astarion grins, flashing just a hint of fang. Jaheira’s smile widens.

“Lucky for me, then, it sounds like I’m safe,” she retorts, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d almost think that the tips of his ears tinge pink.

The two quickly lose track of time, their comfortable banter and friendly jabs making it pass quickly. It’s only when Alan announces last call that they fully take stock of just how empty the Elfsong has become.

“Ah, the life of an insomniac isn’t an easy one,” Jaheira sighs. “Would you care to join me on my nightly walk to find the sandman?” She stands and stretches, and Astarion can’t keep his wandering eye from traveling down her figure.

“I can think of a few ways to tire you out,” he offers, making little attempt to hide the seduction in his voice. It’s a bit of a clumsier proposal than he’s capable of, but honestly at this point, he knows they can both use a release.

“I’m sure you could, cub,” she chuckles as she crosses over to him and pats his cheek, enjoying watching him try to hide the flustered look that creeps onto his face.

The night air is refreshing, and the city streets feel almost eerily quiet. They stroll aimlessly past darkened windows, neither really paying attention to where they’re going, until they find themselves wandering into the graveyard. Astarion surprises himself when he realizes that he’s subconsciously led Jaheira to a distantly familiar ivy-covered headstone. He pauses in front of it, his eyes tracing the faint outline of his name.

“Two hundred years,” he says quietly, and Jaheira peers over his shoulder. He looks back at her and chuckles, “That’s longer than you’ve been alive, gran.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jaheira groans. She looks on contemplatively, then adds, “You know, I don’t think I fully expressed how proud I am of you for stopping Cazador’s ritual.”

Astarion makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a giggle. “You’re just trying to make me blush, aren’t you?”

“Maybe as a nice little side effect, perhaps,” she says coyly, sliding her eyes over to him. “But truly. With how much you have suffered, it takes a lot of strength to turn down all that power. And now, with a tadpole free brain, you can’t even go into the sun anymore.” She taps on his forehead to emphasize the point, and he swats her hand away playfully. Then her eyes unfocus slightly, and Astarion realizes she’s gone somewhere else entirely. “In my youth, I don’t know if I would’ve been strong enough.”

He studies her profile, brow furrowed as she loses herself in her memory. “I wouldn’t have expected the Great Jaheira to be tempted by something so base as a little power,” he says, punctuating his statement with that high pitched giggle of his. 

She returns to reality and flashes a grin at him. “You’d be surprised what I was tempted by when I was younger.”

Astarion’s eyebrows disappear into his well-coiffed hair. “Oh really? Do tell.”

“Another Rite of questionable morals,” she says with a humorless laugh. “Although admittedly, fewer sacrificed souls in the process. The Rite of Timeless Body, an old druidic ritual practiced by some of the more esoteric circles, allows the practitioner to extend their life span well beyond its natural reach.” 

Astarion crosses his arms and nods approvingly, taking a step back to get a renewed look at Jaheira. “Walking away from immortality takes some steel, I’m impressed.”

She shrugs noncommittally. “It feels a little less impressive when I’m standing in a graveyard in the last few decades of my life with a handsome young vampire who is a hundred years older than me.”

“If you want me to make you feel young again, you only need to ask,” Astarion grins salaciously, and Jaheira barks out a laugh.

“I might be younger than you, but I’m far too old to fall for your lines, cub,” she says, patting his cheek again. He grabs her hand, suddenly but not forcefully, and presses his lips to the inside of her wrist.

“Then maybe you can teach this old dog some new tricks,” he breathes against her skin, looking at her through heavy lidded eyes. She bites down on her tongue to keep her breath steady.

“So hungry now that he’s free,” she smirks, letting her hand cup his cheek. The stark contrast in temperature makes both of them shiver.

“Don’t tell me it’s not what you want,” he coos. “It’s been too long since Khalid, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, so this is for my benefit?” She lets herself step a bit closer to him, his bergamot perfume clouding her senses. “How very selfless of you, Astarion.”

He pulls on her wrist to close the distance between their bodies, putting her hand in his hair but keeping their faces a few inches apart. Waiting for her to make the final move. Surprisingly considerate, she notes to herself. She feels him pressed against her, his sinewy muscles pleasant against her soft flesh. His breath on her lip is cool, almost refreshing, with just a hint of lingering wine.

She leans in to kiss him, rough and unsteady, and his hands quickly move to her hips and squeeze her tight. He pushes her back until she’s up against a tree, pressing his knee up between her legs as he kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

“Don’t think you can get a free meal out of this,” she warns, but the sharp edge of her statement was dulled by her breathlessness. Astarion laughs against her skin.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” he hums between kisses, his fingers nimbly undoing the buttons down the front of her tunic. She arches her back into him as he slides his hand around her waist, his palm cool against her flushed skin.

“Ah-ah,” she slows him, pushing his hand away from her waist. He pulls away, wondering if she’s suddenly changed her mind, but she appears to be listening intently. “Not here, it’s too–”

“Close to civilization?” he smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to say sacred, but I suppose that’s true too,” she laughs. He grabs her hand and pulls her to the city wall on the outskirts of the graveyard. After a moment of struggle, he clambors to the top of it, looking down at her with an extended hand.

“Need help?” he asks and she rolls her eyes, smoothly shifting into her panther form and leaping over the wall with ease. She shifts back and looks up at him smugly as Astarion pinches his lips together, breath slightly uneven, his cock already pushing into the fabric of his pants. He drops down on the other side and she pulls him in by the collar for another messy kiss. 

“I’m starting to think you’re the one who can’t keep up with me,” she murmurs into his lips, giving his hair a quick tug. She delights in watching him struggle to keep his composure, hiding his want with a disaffected smile.

It doesn’t take long for them to find a grassy outcropping on the side of the mountain below the city. Jaheira shrugs off her tunic as Astarion makes quick work of removing his blousey linen top. Once they’re both shirtless, they crash back together, skin against skin, their mouths working hungrily against one another. Astarion pushes her up against a steep rocky slope of the mountain, palming her soft freckled breast in his hand. She inhales sharply as he flicks his thumb over her nipple, feeling it harden in the cool night air. 

She grabs him by the hair and pushes him down so that his lips line up with the sensitive pink flesh. He smiles as he swirls his tongue around the pert bud, and she sighs as her head falls back against the rock behind her. She holds onto his shoulders, unabashedly digging her nails into his skin. He ever so slightly teases her nipple with his front teeth, and he’s delighted when her hips buck into him.

“More interested in a bite than you first thought, eh Jaheira?” he hums, and she glares down at him.

“On your knees, vampire, and we’ll see,” she growls, and the tone of her voice makes Astarion’s cock twitch. He happily complies, and he can already smell her arousal through the cotton of her trousers. She might be able to feign apathy in her expression, but the heat of her cunt gives away how much she really wants him. He slides his fingers into her waistband and pulls her trousers down to her feet, which she quickly kicks off. He kneels forward to taste her but she stops him with the ball of her foot on his chest.

“You too,” she commands in a husky voice, her eyes flickering to the bulge in his leathers before locking back on his blood red eyes. His lips curl into a smile as he slides down his pants, maintaining eye contact with her. She breaks it when his cock springs free, only half hard and already impressive.

He digs his fingers into her hips and licks a stripe up her slit. She slides her fingers into his hair and drapes a leg over his shoulder, pinning him into position so she can maintain control. He laps up her arousal that’s pooling on her lips, threatening to drip. She quickly loses her hesitation to make noise, and her breathy moans as his tongue dives in and around her folds make his cock ache. He tries to subtly stroke himself as he continues to work her with his tongue, but she looks down and catches him.

“So needy, aren’t you, cub?” she purrs, and the noise he makes in response to the pet name is frankly a bit embarrassing. She laughs but it swiftly dissolves into a moan as he flicks his tongue across the hood of her clit. She tightens her hands in his hair and he increases the pace of his tongue, trying to keep up with the rutting of her hips against his face. The sounds of her pleasure as she gets closer to release, now unrestrained, only serve to spur him on further. He darts his tongue in and out of her, stopping only to lightly suckle on her clit.

“Ah– gods— Astarion!'' She shouts his name as she climaxes and he continues to lick her through her orgasm, feeling her pussy throb against his lips. He clutches her thigh as she slowly comes down, panting, and then eventually she releases the tight hold she had on his hair, ruffling it lightly.

“Well done, you know what you’re doing,” she says breathlessly, and he uses his palm to wipe his mouth clean.

“What can I say other than years of practice?” he smirks, standing and pressing his body to hers, his erection thick against her thigh. “I’ll give you a minute to recover, you old crone.”

“I’m ready for round two when you are, pretty boy,” she vaults back, pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. He slides his hand under her inner thigh and pulls her leg up, pinning her knee to the rocky cliff face. He positions the tip of his cock at her entrance, pausing just long enough to tease her into another growl. She squeezes a hand in his hair and he takes the hint to slide into her, their groans of pleasure mingling in the night air. 

He begins to pump in and out of her at a steady pace, her walls squeezing around his cock with every thrust. He drops his head into the crook of her neck, breathing hard and inhaling the sweet scent of her sweat. He peppers her flesh with desperate kisses, nipping at her skin without breaking it. She knows he won’t bite without permission, but he’s also not bothering to hide how much he wants to. She grabs his hair and pulls his ear to her lips.

“Just once,” she hisses, and he lets out a shuddering moan. “Somewhere I can cover, and no drinking.”

“Yes ma’am,” he groans, and bites down into the flesh where her neck meets her shoulder. She clenches around his cock at the sudden pain, but he quickly follows it with soothing licks to the bite mark. 

“Good boy,” she pants as he laps at her neck, and the praise causes him to push into her even harder, until a particularly jagged rock hits her spine. She puts her hand to his chest to get him to stop. “Astarion, wait.”

He pulls away from her, and she finds his dazed expression with his hair falling into his eyes to be surprisingly charming.

“Get on your back,” she hums, jerking her head towards the soft grass nearby. He lets out a visible sigh of relief before quickly positioning himself on his back, resting on his elbows to watch as she saunters over to him. She stands over him for a minute, appreciating the light flush across his normally very pale skin. He wets his lips as she gets to her knees, teasing him with her cunt in revenge for his earlier cheekiness. 

She sinks down onto him as he raises his hips needily to meet her. He grabs her thighs as she rides him, his fingers dimpling the soft flesh. She braces herself on his chest with a hand, her nails digging into his skin as she rocks her hips into him.

“Gods, Jaheira, you’re–” Astarion pants, the words getting caught in his throat. His head falls back into the soft grass and he arches his back into her. 

“Finally speechless, eh, Astarion?” she chuckles, and he shoots a glare back at her that quickly melts into a whimper. She pulls his face up to hers, treating him with another sloppy kiss before pushing his lips back to her tits. He eagerly takes her into his mouth, licking and sucking the sensitive skin. He ruts his hips into her as she grinds down on him, eagerly chasing her second release. He grazes his teeth against her breast and she shudders before yanking him back by his hair.

“Don’t be a brat,” she hisses through gritted teeth, and Astarion flashes her a self-satisfied grin.

“No need to keep up appearances. It’s clear that you want me to. No one will see it, and we both get what we want.” He lightly brushes her nipple with his tongue and she grunts as she tries to stifle her moan. “Come, Jaheira, let me make you purr,” he hums into her skin, nipping to punctuate his sentence.

“Fine,” she grumbles and lets go of his hair. “But one wrong move, vampire, and I’ll keep you pinned here until sunrise.” He grins and eagerly bites down, puncturing her skin but keeping his promise not to drink. He laps at the dark red drops that drip down the curve of her breast and she groans, arching her back and pushing her tits further into his mouth. He takes her encouragement and bites again, making a twin mark on the other side of her chest. She claws into his shoulders, bracing herself rather than telling him to stop.

The contrasting sensations of the ice cold shard of pain with the cool balm of his tongue afterwards is unlike anything Jaheira has ever felt, and she can feel the pressure building in her core. She moves her hand down to her clit and begins rubbing small circles in time with Astarion’s upward thrusts. He smirks and increases his pace, spurred on by her pleasure. 

“That’s it, cub, keep going,” she moans, and his balls begin to tighten at the praise. He grabs onto her hips, pulling her down onto him hard as he continues to fuck up into her, rapidly losing control of his speed. “Come for me, cub.”

It’s all he needs. A burst of pleasure rockets through his core as he spills into her, feeling her walls clench and throb around him as her own orgasm tears through her body. Her unabashed cries of pleasure only heightens the feeling, riding out the long waves of her climax with his rapidly softening dick.

When the ripples finally settle and the two of them are left breathing hard, Jaheira pulls off him and Astarion admires the sight of his thick seed dripping down her leg. She catches him looking and chuckles, “Just be grateful I’m too old to bring any dhampirs into this world.”

Astarion guffaws, still a little giddy from his orgasm and struggling to parse what the fuck just happened. “Trust me, no one needs that less than me,” he says with a breathless laugh. 

They clean themselves up in a comfortable silence, carefully picking up their swiftly discarded garments and redressing. They briefly make eye contact before bursting into sudden laughter.

Jaheira shakes dirt out of her hair and says, “Well this most certainly will not happen again.”

“Absolutely not,” Astarion agrees, but he can’t stop himself from smiling when he sees the light flush bloom across her freckled cheeks. They lock eyes on one another again before quickly looking away.

It’s a long walk back to the Elfsong.

@marvellover-12 @marlowethebard @pursuitseternal @imjiminiebean @gylving @beepersteeper

[ninjakk]

Okay I've seen a few things flying around here recently and I just need to say...

WWX is a diehard romantic!

This is the boy who drew LWJ a life-like portrait, who thought the Lan An founder story was romantic, who could never resist showering LWJ with flowers whenever he saw him, who drew kissing heads on his wooden headboard and who guarded his first kiss for 20 years.

The boy is so romantic!!!

Unfortunately I think this is often overshadowed by the silly and offhand comment he made to JYL when he was trying to put her off marrying JZX. He was just rolling around on the floor and pretending to be a toddler...

“No, I’m never gonna like anyone. Or at least, I don’t want to like anyone that much,” Wei Wuxian replied. “Isn’t that the same as putting reins on my own neck?”

7S volume 3

To me, this was just him being silly and spouting nonsense to his shijie because he'd rather she marry anyone else other than JZX. He's concerned he will be just like his father and cheat on her. He's worried she'll be stuck in a loveless marriage like her parents and JZXs own parents.

How can he do all the above and truly believe he'll never fall in love? Stating that being with someone is like having a reins around his neck when he kept his first kiss for that special someone?

MXTX put this in as foreshadowing of WWXs kink for sure. A little tongue in cheek comment that would come back to bite him on the butt (something he also loves...) and for the reader to have a little laugh at his expense. But I really don't think she intended for us to think that's how he truly felt himself. Yes, he had never felt such things for anyone before (except LWJ, but that's a whole other post!), so perhaps he genuinely thought he might never find a girl (with heteronormativity at play here) that he felt anything romantic towards, since he had not done so yet. But he still held hope, he obviously wanted to find his special someone, to share his first kiss with and all the other firsts he'd carefully guarded right up into adulthood.

WWX is a sweet, diehard romantic and no one can convince me otherwise 🥰

[bluebeary-jay]

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age,  for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together. 

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.