#I'm kind of starting to understand the appealing

[heresiae]

bought my first pokemon game. at 39. for my gameboy pocket.

how much late is not better than never? ^^'

[forcedhesitation]

After my last post I decided to sit down and rank all the possible companion pairs. here is the tierlist, should you wish to fill it out yourself.

This is a "ship" chart, but it's important to clarify that I am interested in how the dynamic works overall, not just romantically. I am very invested in how the stories of different characters overlap, and how they could mesh together to change both people involved. so the more interesting I find an individual character, the more likely they are to be higher in the chart.

How interesting I find characters also usually translates to my desire (or lack thereof) to draw them. So my likeliness to draw a pairing is the scale I used to describe each tier, rather than a nebulous "S," "B", or "F." This way, I feel it is better understood exactly why each pair is placed where it is.

Once again, sorry to those who enjoy miss SH. I do not hate her, I just do not find her to be an especially compelling character. I like the voice acting for her, but I don't care for her design, and I feel any element of her story is simply better explored in those of other characters.

*Special Exception 1: I have to split this pair off specifically, because I've thoroughly disparaged it in the past, based on erroneous judgments of halsin's character. when I first played the game, I locked myself out of a lot of Act 2 dialogue with him, which meant I missed the parts of his character that I do find interesting. I will say, it does still deeply bother me how much of his character revolves around sating the sexual desire players might have for him. I also hate that, as far as I'm aware, he can only acknowledge the player's relationship with astarion in the context of having sex. But after spending an entire campaign playing the game correctly, trying to learn as much about halsin as I could, and thus romancing him, so that I could properly judge him, I have grown attached to my rewritten version of him. so I'm not so much fond of the star/halsin pair as it is in game, as I am of that dynamic in the context of corydalis' campaign.

*Special Exception 2: after what happened with halsin, I feel it would be unfair to judge how interesting I might find minthara's relationship with most of the other companions, given that I've not yet had the opportunity to recruit her. despite this, I can safely say that I have no interest in whatever would likely play out between her any of the men, bar gale. gale is the exception because I've seen snippets of dialogue between them. I do not necessarily think they'd work together romantically, but again, it's more that the potential dynamic between them is interesting to me, regardless of the type of relationship they have. also, I do not categorise all other minthy x male companion pairs as bad because I am of the belief that she is not bisexual. I have faith that this game would make an effort to show us that she was a different identity, were she, because it already does a great job of affirming every other companion's bisexuality outside their potential relationship to the player. what I do not have faith in, however, is that minthy has as beautifully written a story as lae'zel does, where she learns to abandon the cruel and bigoted beliefs her society indoctrinated her to have. not when origin companions like wyll & karlach still lack material, and not when halsin's writing is as inconsistent as it is. I do not think that either halsin or minthy have, or will ever have, fully fleshed out narratives.

if you've interesting commentary about a particular pairing that you like, that you feel I might benefit from reading, do feel free to share it! even if I dislike a pairing, I am usually willing to read someone's thoughts about why they do find it interesting, granted it's not like...something utterly foul. I just ask you keep any commentary you choose to share to companion/companion pairs or companion/companion pairs in the context of polyamory with a tav/durge. NPC romance is another conversation.

[thrilling-oneway]

alternate tier 6 explanation that's actually just something i wrote in my drafts a few weeks ago

someone asked for the full list

don't question what i use tiermaker for

Tier 1: As stated in today's fact, Shizuku and Haruka can be considered the most attractive characters in the game, as multiple characters have shown attraction to them.

Tier 2: These characters have all been stated somewhere to be attractive. Mafuyu is considered to be outstanding in all fields, including appearance. It's occassionally commented that she is quite pretty. Ichika and KAITO's first kizuna title is "Ikemen while playing", ikemen meaning handsome or cool.

Tier 3: These characters are never explicitly stated in the game to be attractive, but you can work it out. Ena has a social media account dedicated to posting pictures of herself, and it's repeatedly stated that she has a lot of followers on it. Len has a similar sort of idol aura to Haruka does, and is referred to as 'princely'.

A few background characters in Petit SEKAI Episode 9 mention that Akito and Toya are hot. Given that the miniseries is non-canon and a gag show it's up for debate how true this is, although it is a believable detail, hence why they're in this tier.

As for Rui, we have to look at the Valentine's Virtual Live from 2021 (wiki screenshots because it isn't available in the game). Keep in mind here that Rui is not popular in school at all and doesn't have many friends. He mentions that he received a few boxes of chocolate in his shoe locker on Valentine's Day, which admittedly could be platonic. However, the fact that this continues on into a joke about Tsukasa trying to claim that he got chocolates too before revealing that he got friendzoned by multiple girls (more on that in a second), makes it seem more likely that these weren't platonic. Linking back to the fact that he's not popular and doesn't really have many friends, this implies that he's pretty good-looking.

Tier 4: An being scouted as a model was like the plot of Wishing For Your Happiness Upon The Blue Sky, and it's mentioned in an area conversation that Kanade has been talent scouted for modelling before (this fact is currently on the queue, I think it posts next week).

Tier 5: Full disclosure that probably all of the MMJ VSingers are either pretty or cute, the ones mentioned here are just the ones I remember it being stated/implied. In the April Fools 2022 area conversation with the Lukas, MMJ!Luka says that WxS!Luka is very cute. N25!Luka calls her MMJ variant out for calling herself cute, and MMJ!Luka says that she herself is cute. (TL)

Tier 6: Yes he gets his own tier because it's funny. This guy runs on rule of funny like 50% of the time. Anyway, as mentioned earlier, in the 2021 Valentine's VLive, he gets annoyed when he hears Rui talking about receiving (implied romantic) chocolate and tries to claim that he too received (implied confession) chocolate, before saying too much and revealing that he only received friend chocolates that girls gave out to all the other boys as well. He isn't as unpopular as Rui, but looks still couldn't save him.

But.

I think two guys have flirted with him? One definitely has anyway, the other is more up for debate but even reading it from a non-shipping perspective it has always read to me like flirting.

In other words on a scale of attractive to unattractive he's the secret 3rd option (appeals to the mlms).

[vetyr]

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

[eats-the-stars]

love my coworkers but i’m convinced that 1-3 of them could possibly be part fish, maybe even some kind of freshwater mer-guy(s) because how else can three guys spend an entire 8-hour shift talking about fishing conditions. they were talking about the rain, the mud at the bottom of the lake, fish anatomy that was completely foreign to me, their latest fishing blunders/successes, one involving failure to catch a snapper, something about hiding treats IN the lake, no idea if they meant for fish feeding or their own consumption or how the hell that works, and then some complaints about other fishermen/fishmen in their favorite fishing places/potential living spaces.

[dilf-docs]

To The Devil I Know

dbf!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad. but what is the perfect way to leash all your anger out?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing (joel's kind of a perv, ay), dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)

word count: 7,195 words

side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)

"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"

It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.

When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.

"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"

You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.

"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"

You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.

"Yeah, about that..."

"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.

"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"

In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.

"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"

"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.

"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"

"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."

"Did you just call me fat?"

You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.

"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"

He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"

Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.

"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"

"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"

You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.

"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"

"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"

Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.

"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"

Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.

"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"

"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.

"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"

Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And we're taking my truck"

"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?

He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.

"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"

You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.

He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:

Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.

Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.

You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.

If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.

"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.

You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:

"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"

As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.

"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"

You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.

You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"

"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"

Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"

He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.

A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.

"Damn right you don't"

You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.

"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"

"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.

He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:

"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"

But you hear.

You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.

"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."

"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.

The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.

"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"

"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.

Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.

"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"

"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.

"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.

"You'll have to prove that"

You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.

"Prove that?"

You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.

"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"

But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.

"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.

You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.

On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.

"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"

"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"

"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"

You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.

"It's... not here"

"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.

"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"

You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.

"Lost somethin'?"

You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.

"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"

"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.

You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.

"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.

"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.

"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"

You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.

"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.

Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.

"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"

She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.

That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.

Anytime.

You can't help but wonder what stopped him.

Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.

Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.

Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.

The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.

Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.

The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.

He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.

You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.

"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"

"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.

"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.

Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.

But you won't let him win.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you married?"

He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"

"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.

He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.

"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"

"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"

He scoffs. "Still hella young"

"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.

"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"

You loose your patience.

"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"

Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.

"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"

"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.

When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.

"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"

You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.

"I think I know what you want"

"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.

Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.

You haven't even started yet.

"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"

You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.

"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.

It was all so fucked up.

But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.

"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"

The praise gets to you, even if not needed.

Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.

"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.

He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.

You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.

"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.

You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.

"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.

And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:

"Y/n"

You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.

Joel said your name.

Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.

Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.

"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"

He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.

"But do you?"

Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.

He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.

But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.

Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.

He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.

But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.

He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.

"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.

"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.

"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"

Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.

"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.

"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.

"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.

"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"

So you do.

You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.

But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.

You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.

"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.

Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"

If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.

"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.

"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"

So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.

Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.

And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.

"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"

Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:

"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"

He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"

"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.

"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"

You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.

"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.

The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.

"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"

"I won't tell you shit" you spit.

"You little mix, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"

The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.

Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.

"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.

"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"

You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.

"What are you-"

"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"

As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.

"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.

"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"

You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.

"Good girl"

He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.

"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"

The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.

"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"

You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.

"Yes, I'll be"

"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"

"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"

"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"

You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.

"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"

You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.

"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"

The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.

"Joel" you breathe out. 

He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.

"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"

He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.

"Sorry, Mr. Miller"

"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.

But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.

"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"

The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.

"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"

You laugh breathless, trying to recover.

"Wanna taste?"

So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"

He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.

You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.

"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.

"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.

Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.

Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 

He positions himself between your legs again.

"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"

He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.

Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.

"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.

The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.

"I will, Mr. Miller"

He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.

"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.

You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.

"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"

His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.

"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"

The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.

"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.

This is real.

You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.

"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"

His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.

"Take it all, like the good girl you are"

Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.

He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.

"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.

But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.

tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)

[bunny-jpeg]

hiii ! how are u? I would like to order a pastry braid and english muffin with a side of tonic water, w max verstappen

thank uu x

bakery menu!!

want to suggest your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to choose from. i am working through the suggestions after a slight break so i will be posting them more often. updates usually go up fridays to sundays at 6pm est! i hope you enjoy this little fic! this is set in the team principal au (which usually happens with a max age gap fic) but it's not connected to the rest of the tp au that i have going, just it's own little thing! <3

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work." + english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?" + tonic water: age gap served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), crying (kink), rough sex, power dynamics, doggy style, max has high expectations for his driver, degrading language, possessive behavior

insatiable. that was what max would describe himself in relation to you. what he was when you were near. he was hungry for trophies, wins and most of all your sweet cunt. max had expected to leave the track years ago, but how could he? he had a re purpose, to make you a champion.

but even wills made of iron couldn't deny your appeal. how you looked in your fire proofs, the look you got when you lost of received a plenty, and the opposite look you gave when you tasted sweet victory. if max was the lion, then you were the wolf.

regardless, max still held power over you and you when he held your cheeks in one hand to face him, a domineering look in his eyes. he held you like he owned you, and with all those zeroes on your contract. he did in a way.

his arms wrapped around you and held you to his chest. in a moment of private after the grand prix, he held you the way a lover would. he couldn't help but take a quick grab of your breasts. you wined in response and max simply smiled.

"not the best," he said in your ear, "i counter five errors in your driving, on top of letting the williams' driver over take you for ten laps. i'm sorry, my price, you know what that means."

you nodded, "yes, sir. i understand." then shifted a little in his touch which only made him hold onto you tighter. you swallowed, even though you won the trophy, tonight wouldn't be about celebrating. it would be about punishment.

max's hotel room was next to yours, and you barely closed the door before he was trying to get your t-shirt off. large hands groped your breasts over your bras and he groaned into your neck.

"fuck, baby." he said, tension in his voice, "you could've been celebrating with the team, but instead you have to deal with the punishments." he pulled your bra over your head and grabbed your chest.

max liked your breasts, he loved how easy the skin bruised when he gave them too much attention. you ended up on the bed with max stripping you of your calvin klein jeans. he saw your exposed thighs, and the tattoo on your hip. lucky number thirty-three. max's old number.

he did have a claim over you, the kind of claim that not even a scandal could break. oh the media circus that would ensue if people found out about you two. if they found out you were fucking max, then max guessed he'd just have to marry you. not a big deal, he had a ring picked out and everything.

"you know what we have to do tonight. your job is to make me cum. now get to work." and soon your panties were pulled off and left on the edge of the bed. he started to strip himself down.

while your face in the pillows and your couldn't see your team principal, you could feel him. the soft of imposing power that left you feeling needy.

"i expect the best from you. you know that. i don't deal with those who aren't willing to push themselves to the best they can be. i know, you can easily be the best. but, i guess there is still a lot i have to teach you." max wasn't like this with any other driver, even if you retired tomorrow, you'd still be his favourite.

he admired your beauty with strokes of his cock. usually there would be a spanking, teasing or maybe a little bondage, but max was still running off the high of racing and he wanted you now. he sank his cock into you like it was his god given right. he was near double your age, but he still fucked you until you were an overstimulated mess.

you whined from the intrusion, you felt sharp pain. max wasn't small by any means. he was rather bulky, the kind of cock that bullied your insides. you felt a shiver of pain as you moaned into the sheets.

"aw, is someone crying?" his words were patronizing as he moved against you quickly. his stamina was still high, he fucked with the force of a bull that often left you feeling bruised inside and out. he had that ability over you. you leave you completely and utterly at his his mercy.

you swallowed, "not crying, sir." and arched your back, but max had you pressed against the bed. his pace only picked up as he rutted up against you.

the thing about max was that he was dominate. and you loved the power he had over you. he easily took you apart and let him make you feel like jelly as he fucked into you.

"you look better on my cock than in a car." he remarked, "better on your knees than the podium." he added as pleasure clouded his head. his thoughts were about how good you felt. how you clenched around him when he hit your g-spot.

you whined and sniffled a little from the ache. you weren't crying. rather whining from the intense feeling. the ache and the pleasure left your nerves feeling tense. you gasped when he hit a particular spot.

max loved when you whined, especially when there were sweet little tears in your ears. his little wolf all teary-eyed because he made you feel too good.

he pace continued and you felt on cloud nine, you sniffles continued and you were left needy for more. it was always more, you always needed more of him. something that max was more than happy to deliver on. how could he deny his driver. even when he thought you did poorly, he still had a soft spot for you.

"mmm, see you're good like this. i could just eat you alive. take you piece by piece. all mind." he chuckled with warmth in his gut, "next time you'll listen to me over the radio and in the garage." he arched your back further and made you feel the zap of pleasure up your spine and in your core.

having your team principal's support meant the world to you, even when you were panting and near crying under him. the pleasure climbed through your body and you felt the surge of want through you.

"please, sir." you arched your back further and your pulse picked up. face buried in the soft pillows while you let your boss fuck you with a heated drive.

he grasped the back of your head and pulled your head further into the pillows and his pace quickened, "you're forgiven. let this not be a lesson you forget." and continued to move against you, fucking you right into the mattress with heavy thrusts of his hips.

he yanked your hair a little and it amde you moan. only he could get away with something like that. yank, bite, slip, no other man could get away with that. but you gave max everything.

the movements continued and you felt amazing. the type of amazing that allowed you to feel to close to orgasm. you tensed up and felt the sweet release as you came. you needed max, you needed him in a way you could never need another.

your boss, your lover, your everything.

his movements left you needy and it wasn't long before you moaned loudly once more around his cock. the pleasure continued to wash through you like heavy waves. and it only made your lover fuck you quicker. max moved against you, near bounced you up and down on his cock. his noises were tense before he slammed every inch into you and finished.

"oh fuck." he groaned.

you gasped and weakly held onto the covers. you couldn't think of anything else besides max. max, max, max, he was the only thought in your head as he slowed to a stop. and then laid on top of you. he rutted his still hard cock into you which made you groan.

"i think there are a few more lessons i could teach you tonight before i really wear you out." those words were said like a promise <3

[thir10th]

hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex

if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office

I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!

jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is

It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.

The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.

He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.

The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.

If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.

But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.

"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain

"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.

He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.

The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.

"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.

"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.

"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.

"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.

"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically

"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"

"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.

"that's not even a real answer!" you say.

"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.

"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.

"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.

The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.

A little fun never hurt anyone, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"

Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.

"what?" she asks.

"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.

"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.

Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”

"i might just be" she mutters

"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"

You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.

"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it

"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier

"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away

"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"

It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.

From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.

From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.

That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name

"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.

You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.

"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.

He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.

"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.

Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.

"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently

"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.

Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.

She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.

"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly

"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt

she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan

"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.

She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.

"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips

"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 

She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast

"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.

"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.

Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.

You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.

You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.

You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.

"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"

Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.

The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.

And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.

Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan

"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"

"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.

“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.

"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach

"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.

She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 

You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.

Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.

"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify

"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.

"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.

"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.

"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.

Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"

"who says I'm covering them?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.

You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.

The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.

He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"

Emily gives him the finger.

"in your dreams" you say.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!

[nothorses]

You've made a lot of really great posts about transmasc experiences and struggles, and they really resonate with me! So I guess I want to in complete earnest ask: why the push for 'transandrophobia' when anti-transmasculinity as a term has been around for longer and faces little friction by comparison? I don't really *dislike* transandrophobia, but its meaning gets muddied everywhere from different directions, while ATM is pretty direct and succinct I feel. It's very clear that it's about TRANSmasculine oppression. I'm not against having a dedicated term at all, but the content of our struggles gets lost in the weeds of attaching kind of understandably divisive terms like misandry and androphobia in an attempt to mirror a phenomenon very specifically about misogyny; it seems more trouble than it's worth considering ATM is right there

I'll be honest, this ask is confusing to me for a few reasons.

When I started talking about transandrophobia around the summer of 2020, the conversations I was encountering were very much, like, a handful of people across Twitter and Tumblr (literally, a handfull!). I picked up "transandrophobia" because it was one of two words I saw in use, and the other- "transmisandry"- felt much less clear and much more contentious. It seemed super obvious to me that people would draw a line from "men's rights activists" trying to push this idea that "misandry", as a systemic oppression of men by women, to "transmisandry", and assume some ill intent where there was none. It's confusing!

"Transandrophobia" was the better of two options being floated at the time, at least in any conversation I saw. "Anti-transmasculinity" was not really a term I'd been made aware of, if anyone at all was talking about it at the time.

I have seen people pick up "anti-transmasculinity" more recently (maybe in the last year?), and this is definitely the first I've seen someone shorten it to "ATM". The people I've seen use that term have been mostly people who seem really new to the conversation, and the vibe I've gotten has been very, like, "we're the Good Transmascs, our word isn't dirty and gross like those other Bad Transmascs everyone hates. you'll listen to us now that our word is Good and Pure, right?"

Which is like... kind of frustrating, and kind of sad, honestly. I think these people honestly believe that if they just choose the right word, all the people who've been dragging me and every other transmasc talking about these issues through the mud for the last 4 years or so will really just stop & listen. If they can just say it right, these people- who have been relentlessly harassing and spreading lies about every single transmasc who came before them for years now- will care what they have to say, and will be willing to engage with them in earnest, compassionate dialogue.

If you just find the right word, all of these people will care about your hurt, your pain, and the suffering of your community.

It kind of breaks my heart. It's an incredibly hopeful, kind, loving way to view the world. It's compassion and patience and forgiveness that these folks are not being given, but that they so badly want to offer to others.

And at the same time, it sucks to be the Bad Transmasc. It sucks to have fought so hard for so long, and for the people I've been fighting for all this time to turn around and say, "you're gross, and dirty, and evil, and everything you've done is a mistake." It sucks to see the people I've been fighting for agree with the people I've been fighting against, and shove me under the bus in an effort to appeal to the people running me over with it. Knowing that the bus is going to aim for them once it's done with me just makes it sadder, yknow?

@saint-speaks wasn't the first person to ever speak the word "transandrophobia", but he is the one who coined and popularized it in its current form. And then he was dragged through the mud so hard and so brutally that some people think I coined it, just because when I defended him (too little and too late, imo) I withstood the mud-dragging better than he did (and gee, I wonder white.)

And now people take for granted that everything everyone said about hymn to justify that frankly fucking evil harassment campaign was true, actually, and we should abandon the word he coined and find one with purer origins.

If you honestly think "anti-transmasculinity" is just a more practical word, that's fine. I don't care what word we use. But they're going to cover it in mud, too. They're going to cover every one of you in mud.

Will you keep fighting for "ATM" once they make it the new dirty, gross, bad, evil word? Will you keep fighting when they drag you and everyone else through the mud for using it? Or will you agree with them, make up a new word, and never look back?

Please don't let us drown in the mud. We've been fighting for you, and we want to fight with you. Please.

[wordsarelife]

heyyy, I just saw your appeal for theodore nott requests, but I also saw in one of your posts that you have a lot to do lately and I don't want to annoy you or something, take your time ♡

My idea for something with theo would be detention with Umbridge (I know it's cliche, but let's ignore this fact) and the reader (fem!reader would be great, but you can choose) has to write something that really insults her and hurts her pride like "I must not open my filthy mouth" or "Nobody wants to be bothered by me" (wow that sounds a bit depressing but let's ignore this too). And maybe theo is in Umbridge's little investigation team but changes when he sees the cuts on reader's hand (does this even make sense?). And maybe a little bit of angst which ends in fluff?

But please don't stress yourself ♡

—you are in love

pairing: theo nott x reader

summary: after a lovely visit with umbridge, theo must prove that the words carved into your skin are the opposite of the truth

warnings: mentions of blood and a wound, a little graphic

note: i initially didn't want this to get all like 'who did this to you?' but i just threw my principles out of the window in the middle of writing lol!! i hope this is something in the direction of what you wished for!! also: i'm living for enzo, just thirdwheeling and living his best life lmao

you knew you didn't like the woman the moment she had entered the halls of the castle. but now your hate was as evident as ever. she was sitting across from your, sipping on her tea, while reading the papers and you had a single task to fulfill.

you had much rather used the quill to cut out her eyes-

"go on, dear" she smiled and you had the sudden need to throw up "start writing"

"i don't think-"

"that wasn't a question!" you looked down at the paper, reading the sentence you were supposed to write ten times. it didn't even make sense to you what kind of punishment this should be. but what you read hurt you and maybe that was just the punishment she was so proud of.

you raised the quill, tapping it into the ink. the quill flew out of your hand after the first word. pain flodded through your body. "what?" you whispered to yourself, as you noticed the first word of the sentence carving into your skin slowly. the blood escaped the wound and dripped down your finger.

"continue" umbridge said and you did as you were told.

whatever she had done to you in that room, was the worst kind of torture, especially because you were doing it to yourself, with no escape. you read the sentence on your hand over and over again, scrunching your eyes closed in the hope that it would disappear, but it didn't.

atleast it was in the palm, which didn't make it any less hurtful, but atleast you could hide it better that way.

"there you are!" theo said the moment you entered the common room

"hi y/n!" enzo waved from one of the couches

"hey" you said tiredly, making a beeline to your dorm.

"woah" theo stepped into your way "no chess?"

"not tonight, theo" you tried to escape his eyes

"is something wrong?" theo asked concerned "did something happen?"

"i'm just tired okay? i want to sleep" you clenched your hand together, trying to upkeep the lie. but you had unintentionally clenched your wounded hand. you winced in pain and a drop of blood hit the floor.

it was like slowmotion as theo, enzo and you all looked down.

"what the fuck" enzo stood up "is that blood?"

theo reached for your hand, but you pulled it back, causing more blood to drip.

"fuck, y/n" theo said "show me your hand"

"yeah" enzo agreed "whatever that is can't be normal" he leaned in to whisper at theo, but did it loud enough for your to hear as well "girls don't normally do that right?"

theo turned his head at enzo, sending him a look with raised eyebrows and then slowly shook his head. enzo nodded, turning back to you "show him, y/n"

you sighed, understanding that you couldn't escape them even if you tried. theo gently took your offered hand, rolling the cloak up and opening your hand. he was met with nothing short of a sea of blood, which flodded your whole hand, making it impossible to see any skin underneath.

theo was staring at your hand. "get me a towel or something, quick" he instructed enzo, who just gulped and nodded, looking like he was going to throw up, but he hurried off right away.

theo guided you to sit down.

"what happened?" he asked, but you didn't answer "i asked you something"

"i fell over" you said. you knew that if you said it was umbridge, theo might never believe you. there was no use in fighting a teacher. especially not when theo was working for her and definitely not if this was your punishment after simply talking during class.

"the fuck you did" theo shook his head. before you could argue, enzo reentered the room, with a towel and a whole roll of toilet paper in hand.

theo wrapped the towel around your hand. it quickly soaked up the blood. he opened it back up, to softly pat some toilet paper on your wound. you winced in pain.

you watched theo closely and you knew what question he would repeat any moment now. he opened his mouth, but before anything could come out, he halted.

"are those words?" he asked calmly. too calm.

you tried to drag your hand away, embarrassed what exact words had been carved into your skin, but theo was quicker.

"hold her arm" he instructed enzo. enzo took your arm with one hand, while he clasped the other over both mouth and nose.

"what are you doing?" theo asked irritated.

"it smells so bad" enzo said disgusted, tears in his eyes, while looking anywhere but your hand "and i don't want to throw up on her, then she'd be full of blood and puke"

"very wise decision making" you nodded "can't you just put a plaster on that and call it a day?" you asked theo. he shook his head, taking a new piece of the toilet paper and soaking up the rest of the blood. the wound was mostly dried now. the blood had been moved all around your hand and arm, but it was all dry aswell.

theo took off the toilet paper and his eyes flew over the words on your palm.

enzo, incapable of reading it quietly announced the words loudly "i will never be loved" he turned his head to look at you, eyes big. you kept your eyes on theo, waiting for his reaction.

theo just kept staring at your hand and you were more anxious than ever before. "theo?" enzo asked "what are we gonna do about it?"

"what are you gonna do?" you repeated "nothing! obviously. none of you will do anything, you hear me?"

"fuck that" theo said, making both enzo and you look at him.

"what?" you asked.

"tell me the name"

"no" theo was still keeping a close eye on your hand, before he looked up at your answer suddenly.

"tell me the name, y/n" he repeated "enzo and i will deal with it."

"yeah" enzo agreed "we're on the inquisitorial squad. we can at least take points from them"

theo noticed how you looked at your hand at that. a very obvious tell you should've hidden better. but theo was usually too smart for you to trick anyway.

"oh" he said, understanding what had happened "umbridge did it, didn't she?"

"umbridge?" enzo repeated confused "what did she do?"

"sometimes, you're so slow" theo rolled his eyes at enzo "umbridge hurt out girl" he turned back to you "she did that to you"

your lack of an answer was enough for him. "take her to madam pomfrey, enzo" theo stood up.

"where are you going?" you asked.

"i have to take care of something"

you watched him leave the common room. enzo just shrugged. "come on"

madam pomfrey had quickly wrapped your wound in some bandages, but not before putting on a special treatment, that would help to heal it faster.

you were staring at the ceiling, bored to death, when there was a sudden sound. "theo" you said surprised. "where is your badge?" you asked, noticing it missing on his robe.

"i gave it back" he sat down on your bed.

"you did what?" you tried to sit up, but accidently put your weight on your hurt hand, wincing in pain.

theos eyes softened "i don't want to join some club that is fine with hurting the people i love"

"you didn't have to do that" your argued.

"yes i had" he insisted "simply because what she made you write isn't true. but i know that you questioned if it was. i won't let you think that"

"theo" you said softly.

"i spoke with potter and told him what happened. he has something going on as well. i know i can't do much, but he said he had a plan"

"you did all of that because of me?"

"are you kidding?" theo asked "of course i did. because i love you"

a tear slipped over your cheek. "thank you" you whispered "i love you too" theo softly kissed your forehead.

"i hope you get out of here soon"

"it will just be tonight"

"good" theo smiled "did enzo, the coward, really leave you here on your own?"

you shook your head, smiling, before you leaned over theo, dragging the curtain behind him to the side. there in the bed was laying enzo.

"he passed out, just after she took out the first syringe" you laughed "she gave him some sedatives and he's been out ever since"

theo shook his head, laughing, before he drew the curtain close again "at least then he can't see me do this" and with that, he kissed you.

[lacydollette]

Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

[dunmeshistash]

Interview to celebrate the opening of the Ryoko Kui Exhibition

About Delicious in Dungeon: Story making

Q1. Your first long-running series has lasted for about 9 and a half years. Has it been different from your previous experience drawing short stories?

A1. Compared to short stories, the series has been easier because the same characters appear each time. But I was surprised to find that I got tired of drawing the same characters too many times.

Q2. You have said before that the overall structure of the story was decided before serialization began, but how much of that had you communicated to your editor? Also, what kind of communication did you have during the series production?

A2. The goal was something we discussed and had decided on from the beginning. The goal itself was simple, but the path to get there was more difficult and took longer than imagined.

Q3. Regarding the overall story concept and development, did you write out or put anything down in writing (such as the plot)?

A3. I did, but it was simple.

Q4. Did you come up with the dishes based on the monsters you wanted in the story? Or did you come up with the monsters based on the dishes?

A4. It depended on the story, but usually the story came first followed by the monsters or food. I feel like that was most often the order.

Q5. As you progressed in drawing the series, what elements of the characters, story, or world expanded or grew in the most unexpected way?

A5. Nothing particularly unexpected perhaps. When I used to draw web manga, I tended to think up inconsequential settings. So, from the beginning I tried to restrain myself as much as possible and not expand too much. I was surprised when my editor said "Let's expand it more," in the second half of the series.

Q6. "Delicious in Dungeon" starts with a relatively simple setting, but as the series and the labyrinth exploration continues, the map slowly expands little by little in the readers' minds. It becomes more three-dimensional, revealing the secrets of the world, and taking on a multilayered structure. Are there any sources that you used as a reference, or which influenced you in creating this multilayered structure?

A6. A long time ago, when I was working on my personal web manga (fantasy), I drew it however I wanted, thinking that "Only people who can read this will read it," but I regularly received feedback that it was "unreadable", so I tried to make it as easily. accessible as possible.

Q7. The series combines many elements, including "fantasy", "gourmet", "battles", and "puzzle solving", but I think it's also important that it is a "comedy" which makes people laugh. Could you let us know if you have a creative commitment towards depicting humor?

A7. My hopes are that I can make it fun for people to read.

[page 5]

About Delicious in Dungeon: Drawing manga

Q1. Please tell us about the drawing tools you currently use, both digital and analogue.

A1. In terms of analogue tools, I use a light box, a G pen, a round pen, and a brush pen. And for digital, I use CLIP STUDIO PAINT and a Wacom LCD tablet. Screentone pasting is always done on the computer, so ultimately it all ends up as a digital manuscript.

Q2. Do you have any rules or reasons for using digital and analog separately?

A2. I'm always looking for ways to draw better and save time, so the exact approach is probably different for almost every chapter. Personally, I feel that analogue methods create more appealing lines, but I feel like digital saves time, so maybe I'll do a digital rough sketch and do the inking by hand… I might have been using a G pen, and maybe I'll try out a turnip pen, or this time I'm short on time so I'll draw it entirely digitally, but with digital I can redo it over and over, so maybe analogue is still faster, and so on and so forth. I'm indecisive in this way and so haven't developed a consistent process.

Q3. I understand that you prepare 3D data for your assistants to draw the backgrounds. What kind of data did you make for "Delicious in Dungeon" ?

A3. You could call it 3D, but it's not a proper model, just something to help with the rough sketching. I line up cubes to share the perspective and sense of scale, and they use it as a reference.

Q4. At the beginning of the series, the characters and backgrounds were somewhat simply drawn, and it seems like they became richly detailed over the progression of the story. What was your intention behind using these different styles?

A4. It's simply that my technique isn't stable. I thought I'd put a lot of effort in at the start. I remember being confused when my editor asked me to add more in to the drawing, and I wondered "Where…?"

Q5. Thinking about the food, were there any menu illustrations that you were particularly satisfied with, or which you struggled with?

A5. I've never liked my own food illustrations. But the times when I read other people's manga and thought "That looks delicious," I think it's been more an influence of the movement, the staging, and the situation than the drawings.

Q6. For the world maps and the terrain of each continent, did you refer to any maps of the real world? I feel like the shape of the 'island' is similar to the shape of Fukuoka Prefecture or Kyushu.

A6. I didn't reference any specific geography, but I did try to put thought into things like whether a developed city would be near a river or the sea, and what the coastline would look like. I'm pleased if it feels similar to a real place, because it means my interpretation was pretty accurate.

About Delicious in Dungeon: Other

Q1. Which is your favorite monster?

A1. Nightmare.

Q2. I'm sure you have received a lot of feedback from readers in countries and regions outside of Japan. Please tell us if there was anything from them that made you happy, was unexpected, or which made a lasting impression on you.

A2. When you play foreign games, there are times when you think "Why did they translate it into Japanese like that?" But having been on the side of having something translated, I've realized some things are unavoidable, or endless, and there are many things that don't matter either way from the author's perspective, so it was interesting.

About Ryoko Kui's short story collections and herself

Q1. Dragons are a consistent and important motif in your work. Was there any particular work or experience which inspired this? Also, are there points about drawing dragons which you find interesting or have had to work hard on?

A1. It's less about liking dragons, and more that I'm interested in the worlds in which dragons exist. When I draw dragons, the depiction in itself has a sweet feeling to it. I have never had a pet reptile, so I don't have a very good understanding of them.

Q2. Unomiya University in your story "The dragon's school is on top of the mountain" has a Faculty of Dragons, Department of Environmental Studies, and Department of Technology Studies, and a Faculty of Veterinary Medicine. If you were to enroll in the university, which department or faculty would you like to enter?

A2. I probably wouldn't be accepted….

Q3. The collection includes a short story staged as an essay manga. Are you a fan of essay manga? Please tell us about any genres of essay manga that you like.

A3. I love all kinds of essay manga. I read them often.

Q4. If you were to make your own game, what kind of game would you like to make?

A4. I prefer being a player when it comes to games.

Q5. When did you first start drawing illustrations (doodles)?

A5. I don't exactly remember when I first drew a picture, but I think I started drawing manga around the fourth or fifth grade of elementary school. in my notebooks and had my friends read them.

Q6. What is the most fun part about drawing manga?

A6. Every part is fun and hard in its own way.

Q7. Please tell us if there is anything you "just can't stop no matter what".

A7. My procrastination habit.

Q8. Could you please tell us if there's something you want to draw now?

A8. I've been working continuously since the serialization, so I'd like to take about 2 to 3 months to just draw whatever I want.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Valley-girl Charm - Bucky Barnes

Summary: In which reader from the 1940s knows just how to play the damsel in distress to get exactly what she wants in the modern age after coming out of the ice. Or should I say: 3 times Bucky did things for you, and the 1 time you did something for him. SMUT!!!

2.9k wc

Natasha knew body language better than anyone. Tony knew how to play the knight in shining armour better than any hero in the old tales they told.

So of course, they were the first ones to pick up on the little game you were playing. It had started the second you were back from under the ice, charming anyone you spoke to with your 1940's valley girl accent, using words you'd only hear in old television. Men fell at your feet the second words came out of your mouth, offering you anything you'd dream of, and it didn't have anything to do with the super-soldier serum in your system either. You politely declined every time, but eventually understood the kind of power you held.

The second charming method they noticed you had came from your gorgeous smile. The moment you looked up at someone through your long lashes and beamed widely, looking so innocent and kind, people were willing to give you the clothes off their back if you asked. Of course, you never accepted anything from complete strangers. The two Avengers had come to their conclusion that you were still accustoming yourself to the norms of the new world, unaware of your ability to bewitch people with your natural appeal, however it was not long before they were proven wrong.

They didn't know if it was the fact that you were so familiar to Bucky and Steve, a comfort amongst all things new that made them more vulnerable to do anything for you, or if it was just your flirt, but they were immediately intrigued after seeing your interactions with the soldiers. They'd seen the way you spoke to the two soldiers just after coming out of the ice and hadn't noticed anything unusual apart from the fact you'd essentially come out of a time machine. As the weeks, months passed, they knew your intentions.

It had started by witnessing a simple conversation between you and the two soldiers. "Well I'm all nerves about going to speak to Agent Fury about that last mission. He's going to get all bent and blow a fuse." The two soldiers stood either side of you turned to face you in such synchrony it had almost been comical. Bucky was the first to speak, "Don't worry doll, I can go speak to him if you'd like. You shouldn't be the one he chews out." "Anyway," Cuts in Steve "We were the ones who screwed up honey, not you." From across the kitchen, Natasha rolled her shoulders back, nudging Tony with her elbow lightly as she stirred sugar into her coffee. Their eyes widened slightly at the wide smile sprawling itself on your face, peeking back and forth between the two men.

"Really? You boys don't have to do that just for me." Steve straightened his posture impossibly at your comment, but it was Bucky who beat him to the comment. "Honey, I'd do anything for a broad like you." You cocked your head to the side, a hand coming up to rest on his muscled bicep. "Why, thank you Sergeant. You dreamboats are too kind". Natasha's eyes trailed over to Tony when the three of you finally left, the two boys accompanying you seemingly wherever you wanted to go. "See, I didn't understand half of that conversation, but they are wrapped around her finger." Tony hummed "She's smarter than we thought."

The second time they witnessed it, they were convinced that you did it on purpose, their image of you quickly turning from innocent and naive to a femme fatale, manipulating men into thinking they're doing things for you because they want to. You'd all been hitting the bars, only missing Thor from the team. You had been occupying a large round booth, wedged between Bucky and Natasha, giggling with her about the man she found attractive sat at the bar, whilst the four men at the table shared stories. Natasha's eyes were quickly drawn to your hand as you placed it on Bucky's thigh, the man putting his own hand over yours almost instantly as he glanced down at you. You returned his look, grinning widely before turning back to your conversation with the tall red-head.

Natasha carried on with the conversation, pretending not to notice the intimate moment you'd shared with the soldier, but her jaw went slack nonetheless when Bucky leaned closer to you not two minutes later, whispering "You're drinking a margarita, right?" And rising from his seat when you nodded at him, humming in agreement. Bucky joined the group once more with two drinks in hand: one for him and one for you, smiling proudly when you cocked your head to the side, insisting he didn't have to. He only wrapped one muscled arm around your shoulders as a response, pulling you closer to him despite the humidity of the bar.

When you leant your head on Bucky's shoulder, stealing a glimpse up at him though, Natasha was no longer assured that those tricks up your sleeve were to get what you wanted. Perhaps you used them to get who you wanted. She sipped her drink instead of making a comment, afraid to scare you away with any questions when you'd only just begun getting close to her. Maybe in a couple of weeks during a girls' trip to the bathroom she'd bring up your relationship with him.

That girls' trip didn't end up being in a bathroom, but in a changing room, because next time something so significant had happened, the entire team was training together for the first time in a while, and Steve had declared that you were all doing a round robin. If you were still in the military, sure - you'd have moaned about it, throwing your head back in disappointment and hoping your supervisor hadn't seen you complain. But now, with the super-serum in your bloodstream? Well, you supposed you could be in a worst position, like Tony's, who didn't have any super-powers or spy training. With so many of you on the team, it'd take numerous matches for everyone to have their turn against each of their teammates, so after a quick warm-up, everyone had settled down on the mats of the martial arts training area to watch.

Soon later, everyone who was sat on the mats was trying to catch their breath as two team-mates sparred on the mats. Tony stood after Thor and Steve's match, adding another tally next to Thor's name on the big planning whiteboard before turning around with a wide smirk on his face. "Last match of the day." Bucky hopped up from next to you, sticking a hand out for you to take. Hesitantly, you took it, only for him to pull you up to your feet. "Us?" You asked, only for him to nod. "Well, I'm gonna let you have it, Barnes." You teased, tightening your ponytail. "Oh come on, might as well reach for the sky now, y/n."

"Steve, what the hell are they saying?" Called out Clint, leaning over to see the blonde man from across Natasha. "She's gonna hit him hard, and he says she should just give up now." Replied the man, taking another sip from his water. Tony picked up the whistle next to him, blowing into it, before scrambling back to watch with the others. The second the time started, Bucky faltered - how the hell was he supposed to hit you? But there was already a fist flying to his face which he barely dodged, instead swatting your wrist away from him.

You stared at him intensely from behind your fists, shielding your face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Come on Barnes!" Steve yelled from the sidelines. Bucky's face mirrored yours, his eyes laced with confusion, but he threw a fist anyhow, going for a body shot instead of your face. Nevertheless, you moved to the right, dodging his fist, and grabbing his arm as leverage to help you jump up. You threw your right leg over his shoulder, and behind his neck, swinging your other leg over his second shoulder, and crossing it over your right leg to trap his arm between your legs and over your torso. You tensed your quads as much as you could, hoping the triangle choke would work on him, but instead he used his metal arm to push your thigh over his head as much as he could. It was working, slowly but surely.

"Fuck" you muttered when he slipped his head in the gap between his shoulder and your thigh. You were now essentially hanging onto his arm, both legs over one shoulder. Before he could react, you flexed your core muscles, and sat up onto his shoulder. You released his arm, jumping off his shoulder so you landed behind him, and softly push-kicked him the back so he stumbled forward. As he did though, one hand reached behind him and grabbed your ankle, so you were dragged along with him. You slipped onto your back as he fell forward but Bucky was quicker, getting up instantly to straddle your hips. He leaned forward, above you, trying to get his arms around your neck to get you in a chokehold, but the second you giggled, he shot back up again.

"Sorry, that tickled." You insisted, hand coming to your neck to play the part better, a broad smile gracing your lips. Just as Bucky opened his mouth to say something, you reached out to grab both his hands, bucking your hips up and turning to the side to flip him over. You were on top of him in the blink of an eye, mimicking his movements as your arms snaked around his neck. You successfully put him in the same chokehold he had tried to put you in, but when you twisted your wrists, the blood supply to his face immediately cut off and you felt his hand tapping you twice on the shoulder. "You cheat." Was the first thing he said after his gasp for air, but you only shrugged, rolling off his chest. "I was only using sources available to me."

You giggled as you ran off to catch up to Natasha, already waiting for you by the doors to the changing room. "So..." She started, quite obviously. "So... What?" You echoed, looking up at her curiously, shimmying out of your shorts. You turn around so your back faces her as you struggle out of your sports bra, wrapping your towel around your sweaty body before spinning back around. "You and Bucky. This flirting has been going on for weeks. Do you like him, are you dating?" You laughed, cocking your head to the side. "You don't know?" She shook her head quickly, sitting down on a bench. On the other hand, you just opened one of the doors to the clean showers, calling out to her.

"Well, before the ice, me and Buck knew each other from the military, we got along well. The only problem was, he was my superior. I couldn't possibly make a pass at him and be known as the soldier who had the nerve to try and lay paws on her superior. But there was always something there..." At the lack of response, you stuck your head back out of the shower, to make sure Natasha was still there. "Natasha?" The spy looked at you with her mouth wide open in shock. "What!? And you never told me?" You shrugged, turning the water on. "Well I thought y'all knew."

Her silence told you enough about how much she really knew. As she muttered to herself on the other side of the door, you submerged yourself in the water, massaging shampoo into your hair, hearing flashes of "before the ice" and "he was your superior?" so you assumed she was still talking to you, even though you ignored most of what she said. You barely heard her goodbye and the sound of the changing room door opening and closing one more time, before the sound of water running was all you could hear.

"Y/n? Natasha let me in, she said you were done." You perked up at the sound of Bucky's voice, exclaiming "Here!" He approached the sound of your voice, stopping when he realised Natasha had deceived him. He stood in front of the dark wooden door, watching the steam dance in the space above your door. "Is it anything urgent?" The towel hanging from the door disappeared into the other side, and Bucky realised shaking his head wasn't enough of an answer because the door swung open to reveal you, soaking wet and completely naked with the exception of the small towel that barely covered your private parts. "Oh! Hey you!" You exclaimed, taken aback at his proximity, yet smiling all the while.

Bucky stood frozen in place, mouth ajar as he search for his words. "I'm sorry, I- I, you look beautiful." You giggled at his words, approaching his shirtless, freshly showered figure. His long hair was wet and skin was glistening, and he only wore a pair of jogger shorts to conceal himself. You have to admit, they weren't doing a great job and covering the growing tent in them. Your eyes trailed back up his body to meet his, smiling at him again. "Anything I can help you with, Sergeant?" Bucky's hands hesitantly rose to meet your hips. "I-No it's fine." Your hand met his and you dragged him with you three steps backwards, back into the shower you had just exited. You reached your arm behind him, locking the door once more.

"You're sure?" Bucky shook his head, pulling your hips flush against his as he slammed his lips against yours in a needy kiss. You gasped as your towel started to unravel, but you didn't try to stop it, wrapping your arms around Bucky's shoulders instead. When he separated from you, opening his eyes, they immediately widened, and his bit his lip, poorly trying to suppress a moan. You pushed Bucky back gently, urging him to sit on the small wooden bench. He sat down, legs spreading to make space for you between them, but when you started lowering yourself onto your knees, he shook his head frantically, begging "No, no, none of that, doll. I just want you sweetheart."

The cold metal of his arm flush against your skin chilled you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his laps. He grunted, frantically pulling down his cotton shorts. You aided him at doing so, gasping when his cock sprung out, the absence of any underwear surprising you. You immediately took his dick in your hands, watching as Bucky's face scrunched up in pleasure. You guided him inside you, sitting down flat on his dick, but you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you as you did. You whined, beginning to drag yourself up and down his dick, gradually speeding up your movements. Bucky's hips met your frantically, until his pace was so quick you couldn't keep up. "Buck!" At your plead, he wrapped an arm around you, using his metal one to support both your weights on the wall, and he stood up, walking forward until your back was pressed against the cold shower wall.

You gasped at its feeling against your skin, jerking forward once more when Bucky's metal hand came up to play with your nipples as his speed increased once more. Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, cussing loudly before biting his bottom lip in fear of being heard. His hand left your breasts, instead blinding searching for the shower handle. When he found it, he immediately pushed it upwards, the instant noise of water shooting out moderately covering the sounds of pleasure you made. Your wrapped your arms around his tighter, grinding your pussy onto his pelvis as he thrusted into you, your clit rubbing on the short hairs near the base of his dick.

You busied yourself pressing kisses on Bucky's neck, the water squelching between your bodies as you passionately moved against each other. "Fuck y/n" Bucky moaned, chasing your lips, panting against them once he met them in a deep kiss. Your hands cupped his face as you kissed, deepening it impossibly, and his metal hand went straight to your clit, rubbing circles on it as fast as he could. Your leg twitched and you didn't have time to warn him before you were cumming all over him. "Shit!" Bucky grunted, pulling out of you as he balanced you on the wall, his hand coming to jerk himself off quicker. You put your hand over his, legs still wrapped around his torso, teasing his sensitive tip as you stroked him up and down. With a deep shudder, white stripes of cum shot out of him, painting your belly white, only to be washed away with the shower's stream.

Bucky put you down gently, making sure you wouldn't slip before cupping your face with his large hands and bringing you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss. You pulled away from him, keeping him close as you peppered kisses all over his face. He laughed, trying to pull away from you and saying,

"We should have done this about 80 years ago doll, don't you think?

[yuri-is-online]

Now I wanna know how Grim ranks the second years. Also I'm in pain from wisdom teeth removal

oh dear I have heard that really hurts, I hope you are ok!

The Great Grim's OFFICIAL Tier List: Take 2 (do not steal)

Riddle- 3/10. Grim likes Riddle a lot, but not in a "hench human should date him" sort of way. If Grim had the ability to understand dating beyond thinking it's cringe he would tell you he is concerned about how Riddle handles conflict and what that would mean for your relationship. He wants you to be with someone who will give you space to relax, and Rampaging Riddle isn't the best at that. Unfortunately, Grim isn't that articulate so he just says he thinks he's too short.

Ruggie- 6.5/10. Ruggie isn't someone Grim hates exactly? Sure you dating someone rich would be nice because then he could get better tuna, but the rich guys on this campus are kind of scary... the real problem with Ruggie is that he expects Grim to do his share of the work. And he isn't shy about how cute he thinks Grim's insistence that he is the one in charge, that stupid laugh will start haunting his dreams. At least the cooking is worth it.

Azul- 7/10. Grim knows he shouldn't trust Azul but he does sort of... look he likes what the sleazy Tako is selling alright? And once that sell starts turning towards a romantic relationship with you he will absolutely be a little shit trying to wing man for him with you. It's sort of pathetic watching how they interact, both of them are convinced they are outsmarting the other but really the only person who is winning here is you.

Jade- I am so happy for your ugly ass boyfriend/10. Grim would be very happy if Jade tripped and fell into a ditch somewhere. Unfortunately Jade is an eel so he would probably just swim out of it right back into your arms and fake cry about it. If he wasn't so scary he'd be a 0.

Floyd- 9/10. Grim and Floyd sort of get along? Or at least I think so, Floyd likes Grim and likes hanging out with him and Yuu. He's the most likely out of the octotrio to actually bribe Grim without some sort of trick or gimmick because he finds it funny to see just how many things the baby seal will eat. He misses a point because Grim doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of being perfect but that's ok, Floyd knows the truth c: (he's delulu)

Kalim- 9.5/10. Grim thinks Kalim is kind of stupid and keeps trying to feed him crackers, so he is a half point away from perfect but! Kalim has no problems spoiling Grim which is good enough for him. Most of the time, if he didn't have money Grim would have so many questions.

Jamil- 20/10. Jamil is cringey but he can cook. I think Grim probably would be happiest in the long run with the more "normal" guys and Jamil would probably end up being his favorite. He gets to eat good food, and while Jamil would still want him to work... work isn't something Jamil wants to govern his entire life so Grimmy would be very happy with Yuu's choice.

Silver- meh/10. I don't think Grim understands the appeal of someone like Silver tbh. If anything I think his blunt kuudere swagger scares the hoes, which includes Grim. Sure, Silver is pretty, but he also says some pretty fucking dumb things that make Grim wonder if he needs to be the smart one. Normally he'd love that but ah. He is starting to feel rather unqualified all of a sudden for some reason, are you sure you like this guy? What standard is he meeting exactly and can you maybe reconsider...

[chronicbeans]

Nurse's Office

Needed to write a platonic Alastor x Nurse Reader Angst fic after I saw that fight between him and Adam like holy hell.

TW: Injuries and Blood, Medical Tools/Procedures, Anxiety/Slight Panic, Spiraling Mental Health

So... When you got started at the Hazbin Hotel, you didn't expect to be a nurse there. Sure, you have the skills, but you usually don't have a nurse working a hotel. Now, though, you completely understand why they'd want to hire you for that, and not the room service position you applied for. Over the little time you've been here, you've seen more injuries that you could've ever imagined at a single hotel, with so few guests.

After the fight with the angels, though? You have been working on overdrive. You've had to patch everyone up, and you can't even find Alastor. You keep doing a head count after every person you treat, seeing if you can find him, but he doesn't show up. Your anxiety only gets worse once you check on Vaggie, the last person you had to help, and he still didn't make an appearance.

You don't want to assume the worst, though, so you grab some medical supplies, put them into a bag, then head out into the debris. He has to be somewhere. Even if he's not alive, he still deserves to be found. He also couldn't have gotten far! Yeah, he kind of... disappeared at one point...? You didn't get a good look, but he did disappear from your sight. But you don't suspect he'd have went far from the hotel while injured. Just far enough to be safe. That's what you hope, at least...

You continue wandering around for a few hours, your legs feeling exhausted after a while. Climbing over all the rubble, breathing in some of the settling dust, and straining your eyes to see up ahead is tiring... that, and you keep scraping your hands and knees on the sharp rocks and broken concrete. The most disheartening part, though, is that you still haven't seen him... Then, you spot it.

A tiny little splatter of blood.

Then, another splatter nearby...

And another...

Yes, a trail! You don't know who it's going to lead to, but you can see some lights in the distance. It at least leads somewhere. You quickly begin to follow it, seeing the red light get brighter and brighter. The radio tower comes into view. You know that it has to be Alastor, at this point. Why hadn't you thought of it sooner? You climb down the rubble, beginning to make your way over to the ruined tower ahead of you.

As you get close to the bottom hatch, you hear some footsteps against the floor. Immediately, you knock on the hatch, making your presence known. "Alastor! It's (Y/N)! I'm coming in there! If you're on the door, you better get off. Don't even try to stop me from getting in, either, because I'll climb through one of the windows if I have to." You pause, hearing the footsteps stop for a moment. After a few seconds, you crawl into the radio tower.

The place is a mess, to say the least... which, you expected. You stand up, then immediately scan the room for Alastor. It's a bit dark, and knowing him, he's probably going to try to hide, somehow. He hates being seen as weak, and from all the blood you've seen so far, he's gotten injured. Badly.

"Alastor? I know you're in here. I heard you walking." You walk around the room, checking every corner. Then, you notice an oddly moving shadow, alongside a puddle of blood. You walk over to it, frowning. "I know you're there. Come on. I'm here to help." You sigh as the shadow makes a little grunt noise, much like a deer would. You then cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at it. Looks like you'll have to appeal to his ego a little.

"How do you think people would feel if you, the great Radio Demon, died here alone in the shambles of his radio tower?" The shadow grows quiet as you say this, and before you know it, Alastor appears before you. He looks terrible, holding his stomach with one arm and the broken remains of his microphone in his other hand. You take a step towards him, but he backs away a bit.

"I'm fine, dear... It's nothing I can't handle. Just give me some time to regain my energy, then I-" You shake your head instantly, gesturing to his wound. "No, Alastor! Look at you. You almost died! Sure, maybe you can regenerate, I don't know... but I spent an hour or so looking for you, with the sole intention of helping you! I didn't come here for you to tell me "No, I don't need help, even though I'm severely wounded"! I came here to assist you."

You watch his eyes widen, his already strained grin becoming even more strained. His ears then pull back, the look in his eyes becoming more distressed. He mutters something, before nodding. Then, he leans against the wall, before slowly easing himself to the floor. "Fine, dear. If you truly came all this way, I guess it would be rude if I said no to your help." You are a bit shocked he gave up so easily, as well as how uneasy he looks. You decide to just help him, though.

You crouch next to him, taking out your medical tools from your bag. "You're definitely going to need stitches... my healing magic can only do so much, but it should work better if I close the wound first." You smile gently, before you point to him. "Though, I'm going to have to, at least, unbutton your shirt and coat to do so. Are you comfortable with that? I know you are very iffy about being touched..."

Alastor then begins to show more visible signs of discomfort, his eyebrows furrowing, and a slight static hum droning from somewhere nearby. You pick up on it, beginning to think aloud. "I can try to find some way to maneuver around the fabric, instead, since it was cut open-" "No. No. I trust you, dear." You blink a few times, wondering why he is acting so oddly. "Are you sure...?" "Yes, dear. I know you well enough to trust you." He then pauses, before quickly adding "You're a medical professional, after all. You've probably seen more than an upper torso, before. I trust you to not be a degenerate."

You simply chuckle, nodding. "You better! I'd say we're good friends, after all." You then quickly unbutton the clothing, before grabbing some sterile gloves and disinfectant. As you put the gloves on, you hear him mutter something, once again. Then, when you grab a set of tweezers and a cotton ball, he makes an odd comment. "We're great friends, yes...? If I told you a secret, you'd keep it, right?" You nod as you pick the cotton ball up with the needle, cover it in disinfectant, then begin to disinfectant the wound. "Yeah. You can tell me. It'll probably keep you distracted from any pain you feel, too."

Instead of a hiss of pain, the static noise grows loud for a moment. Then, it quiets down a bit as he talks. "I'm not entirely sure if you know this, already, but I made a deal... My soul is owned by someone else. I regret it more than anything..." You let out a little hum, your expression changing to one of shock. You grab the suture needle, as well as some thread. "Why are you telling me this?"

"(Y/N), my dear... I trust you more than many others. I've seen you working in that nurse's office of yours. You care more than the average sinner about others. Almost to a hilarious degree. I can imagine you patching up a soldier on one side of a battle and sending them out, then immediately do the same with someone from their enemy's side." He then laughs, before coughing a bit. "You care... but don't care when it comes to the right things to interest me. I trust you to not care about this, even if it means you'll keep secrets from me."

You nod, before gently smiling. "I'll keep it a secret... I know others could hold this against you and use it for an advantage. So, I won't say a word. Plus, you're right. I'm a bit of a chaotic middle ground. I don't like taking sides." You then get the needle into position, beginning to actually sew him up. "So, tell me... Is there anything else you're anxious about?"

His ears flick, the static growing once more. Then, it dies down again. "I don't want to be remembered as an altruist... I don't want to be seen as someone who had died for that hotel and his friends. I know that there's probably some people there who believe I died... and knowing Vox, he probably found some way to watch what happened. That man is practically obsessed with me, after all, dear!" He laughs, again, causing you to have to pause your suturing. After a few seconds, he begins coughing more. He sounds genuinely upset, despite his laughing.

"Why wouldn't you like that?" Alastor seems to disregard your question, instead beginning to talk about his deal once more. "There has to be an exit to that deal... a loophole. Something so I can get out of it..." You begin to continue, almost done with your work. "Are you sure...? What was it?" "I'm sure, and it's private matters."

You finish up, thing up the last suture's knot. Then, you take off your gloves, putting on a fresh pair, and grab the bandages. "... Alastor, are you alright...?" He looks to you, his eyes wide. "Why are you asking...? I am perfectly fine. Not a problem here. After I get free from my deal, I'll be-"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Alastor... you're frowning."

Alastor seems to grab at his cheeks for a moment, an odd, anxious grimace spreading across his face. Then, he begins forcing another grin. His tone is a lot more frantic, as if he has begun to spiral. Or, perhaps, just begun to outwardly express that he's spiraling. "I wasn't frowning. I am fine, dear." "You're not fine... but, if you say so, Alastor. I won't push the topic." You bandage his wound, before sighing. "Okay, so... This magic works oddly. You'll be-"

Before you can finish, he begins standing up. "Hey, wait-" He, holds a hand up, shushing you. Then, he points to himself. "I'll take care of the rest. You should handle your own wounds, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed your scrapes and cuts. You look like you've ran through a thornbush on your way over here." He begins buttoning up his shirt and coat, and you're shocked to see it repairing itself as he does so. Clearly, while your friend's power is limited, he's hiding more secrets than you expected...

"Fine... You better not leave me here by myself as I do so, though." You go from a crouching position, to a sitting one, as you clean off your tiny cuts. You hear him go quiet, for a moment, but can't see his expression due to your focus now being on yourself. After a few moments, though, you hear him chuckle.

For the first time, you hear his voice clearly, with no radio waves obscuring it. "Of course, dear. I never would dream of that. The others, though? Maybe..."

[veltana]

Stranded - Intro

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~400 ✦ Rating: Mature ✦ Warnings/tags: Grumpy mountain man!Bucky, don't ask me about US geography just go with it, eventual relationship/romance/smut. ✦ Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. ✦ Note: You voted for it, so here he is! I'm trying something new with this and making this an interactive story! I'm gonna post a poll tomorrow and you get to vote for what happens in the next part. You're also invited to send suggestions for what you want to happen in upcoming parts! I'm gonna be tagging everything with #stranded series.

Masterlist | AO3

It wasn’t your plan to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, but you are nonetheless.

A slew of curses fall out of your mouth as you stand in the freezing cold, trying to get a signal on your phone. It is still light out, but the sun is starting to set and the road you’re on has been deserted since you stopped.

Accepting defeat, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and try to devise another plan.

You can wait by the car, hoping someone will come by and be willing to help you. But you also remember seeing a small sign up a gravel road some way back.

Either stay out in the cold and die of hypothermia. Get murdered by someone stopping under the guise of helping you. Or get murdered by a loner in the mountains. None of the options seems very appealing to you. Walking back to town is not an option, either way, it’s too far.

After some thinking, you decide you can't stay and put a note in the window of your car that you’ve gone for help, and please don’t break into your car.

Fortunately for you, you’re actually kind of prepared for this. You have reasonable boots, a thick coat, beanie, and gloves. Rummaging through your suitcase, you stuff some other useful things into your backpack, before locking the car and starting to walk.

The gravel road is steep, but at least you’re warm, and not thinking about the chill that will come when your sweat cools. You catch a glimpse of a chimney and a thin trail of smoke rising between the hills and that keeps you going. Dusk is closing in, and you hope to reach the place before the road fades into darkness.

As the hill crests, you take a few seconds to catch your breath and get a better look at the house for the first time. Or, it’s more of a cabin, low and simple, but its windows glow warmly in the fading light, and a truck sits outside.

At least you’ll be warm when you get murdered!

You knock firmly on the door and wait. For a few seconds, there is nothing but stillness from inside, before you hear heavy footfalls on the other side of the door.

As the door opens you put on your best smile.

“Hi!” you introduce yourself. “My car broke down on the main road and I couldn’t get a signal, but I saw the sign and walked here. Do you have a working phone or wifi that I could use to get in contact with a towing company?”

The man eyes you up and down. He’s so much bigger than you, with blue piercing eyes, long hair held back by a black cap, and a scruffy beard. The silence stretches and you’re starting to think that maybe he didn’t understand you.

Then he grunts and says, “Come in, I’m Bucky.”