#One book IS not big enough to cover that many characters and how they feel about everything tho without getting bloated

[oposssumsaucee]

Listen All Systems Red is so so funny from Gurathins perspective imagine you grew up with Space Socialism and was hired to go help some pal with science but you weren't allowed to go unless you rented AmaTeslas Torment Nexus Alexa Dot and then when you get there you find out a whole continent of people got annihilated by their Tourment Nexus rentals so you take a moment to check yours quickly and find out it already had disengaged its Don't Kill People box, the only thing you've ever been told prevented them from mass homiciding their clients, something that LITERALLY just happened to people you knew a day ago, and when you say to your fellow socialist doctors HEY I think our Tourment Nexus is fucked up and it's files said it killed dozens of people barely a year ago and we should probably get the hell away from it the same doctors are like look at what you're saying. You're hurting the Tourment Nexus' feelings. The Tourment Nexus is just a little construct who likes Netflix Gurathin stop antagonizing it on the plane ride.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

Okay relating to a recent post, cleaning up Logan after a fight/mission? Maybe you have a kit ready to go when you hear him return, put his favorite pjs on a fluff cycle so they're nice and warm for him. You clean off any blood (maybe a few remaining wounds if it was BAD bad), and wipe down his claws. Maybe shower together, letting you run your fingers through his shampooed hair before getting cozy for the night

I just wanna take care of him

you! you get it!!

comfort

summary: you take care of logan after he comes home from a mission.

cw (treating this like ao3 tags): blood, wound tending, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, not proofread at all, english isn't my first language so beware, reader has hair, i'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but i'm a girl so i may have accidentally added something gendered without realising idk. this is very soft! you can say this is out of character for logan but i believe he's actually a big softie and just wants love!

word count: 1619

logan comes home to you sitting on the couch reading a book. or, well, you’re trying to read, but it’s hard to focus on anything when logan’s out on a mission. you know he can’t die, his regenerative healing factor pretty much guarantees that, and yet there’s still an irrational spark of fear that lives in you, lighting a fire in your heart every time he gets called away by the x-men.

every minute that passes is a dagger, every new star that appears in the sky a reminder of how long he’s been gone. missions for the x-men can be mere hours or last for days, you remind yourself, and time has nothing to do with how dangerous it is.

though logan typically only gets chosen to go on the dangerous missions. he’s not the one they ask to convince new, young mutants to go to the school. he’s too harsh, too jaded.

you immediately drop the book when you hear the sound of the door lightly creaking open. you’re on your feet in an instant, there to catch logan when he falls into your arms, sweaty and bloody and tired - not as much physically, he has insane stamina, but mentally.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.

“missed you more,” you reply.

you stay like that for a few minutes. you both need the comfort. early on in your relationship, logan would refuse this type of comfort after a mission, claimed he didn’t need it, he’s fought and killed his entire life and never had a sweet thing like you to take care of him when he got back. but you did, you needed to know he was there, with you, a physical presence, proof that nothing terrible had happened to him.

secretly, he revelled in those moments. now, he trusts you enough for those feelings to be spoken out loud, whispered reverently between “i love you”s, declarations of affection and faith. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him to open up this way, to verbalise his feelings instead of swallowing them down.

“you’re covered in blood,” you comment, running a hand down his chest.

he shivers, “most of it’s not mine. but they got a few shots in.”

you hum, pulling back to take a better look at him. his shirt is torn in a few places, and in the middle of his chest are multiple neat, round holes in the fabric, small marks showing where bullets pierced his skin. the wound itself has healed, but the blood remains, a visual reminder of the pain your boyfriend was feeling not so long ago.

he may heal quickly, but he still feels pain, feels agony, and your heart shatters at the way others seem to forget that, so quick to put him in the line of fire. he’ll be fine, they say, and while that may be true physically, there’s only so many times a man can play human shield before he breaks.

“let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, the next part of your routine for when he returns from missions. 

it’s a dance you’ve almost perfected, the way he wraps his arms around your waist and you have to walk to the bathroom with him clinging to you. 

he sits down on the closed toilet seat, closing his eyes and letting you do all the work. his claws come out next, stained with the blood of those he harmed and killed, yet you trace them softly all the same. they protect you - he protects you, really, and so you’ll always be grateful for them, even when logan considers them a curse, a stain upon his existence, turning a man into a monster.

you grab a washcloth and dampen it, wiping meticulously at each sharp blade, from his knuckle to the pointed tip of the adamantium. soon, the washcloth is stained a dirty red, almost brown in its appearance, and the metal gleams brightly under the bathroom lights.

there’s an ease to his posture when he retracts his claws, so slight a difference that no one else would have noticed. he told you once that he can feel the blood remaining on his claws when they pull back into his skin, that it’s an uncomfortable reminder that he’s hurt people, that he’s a killer.

he doesn’t clean them himself, says the reminder is necessary. you disagree, and so you took to wiping them down yourself every time he came home after any sort of fight.  

there’s a small spot of blood between each of his knuckles where the claws pierce his skin, the tiniest bit of red that welled up before the cuts could heal themselves and you wipe that away too. then you lean down to press soft kisses to his hands, the part of himself that logan hates most.

he sighs, a shaky exhale leaving him at the sight of you lowering onto your knees to worship him, to prove your adoration.

any other time that would be enough to turn the mood of the evening into something much different, but he isn’t willing to give this up quite yet, this soft intimacy that’s always felt so foreign to him, a type of love he’d convinced himself he would never get to experience.

��i’m gonna go throw our pajamas and a few blankets into the dryer. you can get the shower going in the meantime, ‘kay?” he agrees easily, of course, and you lean up to kiss him, slow and soft.

pulling away is almost physically painful but you manage. you find the fluffy hello kitty pajama pants you originally bought for logan as a joke as well as the matching set you bought yourself and grab the blanket that sits at the foot of your bed, throwing them into the dryer to warm them up.

he sleeps naked most days, a blessing for you, but on his more difficult days he likes to cuddle up to soft, plush fabrics. besides, you like to think that the silly pajama pants bring him comfort, a reminder of your love for him, that you’re thinking about him even at the most inopportune of times.

he’s in the shower when he returns, the water tinged pink as it slides down the hard, muscled planes of his body. you’re quick to undress and join him, stepping under the hot water, feeling it soak into your hair and skin.

“you’re gorgeous,” logan says, grabbing onto your waist with his large hands to pull you to his chest. he brushes your wet hair out of your face. “can’t believe how lucky i am to have you. what did i ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?”

“you don’t have to do anything to deserve me, logan,” you say, “just being you is enough. and really, you do so much for me. every day.”

“loving you is the best thing i ever did,” he admits, “i’m gonna continue to do whatever i need to keep you. wanna be with you until i die.”

you’ve had conversations like these before, usually always in moments of vulnerability, often coming after devastation and horror. he doesn’t say these types of things in the light of day, but he doesn’t take them back later either. they just stay, floating in the air between you.

one day, you think, you’ll be able to have a real conversation about the future with him. it’s a goal to look towards, but he’s not quite there yet, and you’re okay with that. you’re content with what he does tell you, praise that he marks into every inch of your body.

you use your body wash to clean him, knowing he’ll smell faintly of you afterwards, and the possessive part of you is pleased. your hands tangle in his hair, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp. his head is tilted down so you can have better access. 

it gets harder to finish cleaning him as his body leans into yours, two magnets always seeking each other. 

you exit the shower before him, allowing him a few more seconds under the water pressure to pull the last remnants of tension from his form. you pat yourself dry and then hurriedly grab the garments you’ve thrown into the dryer, stepping back into the humid bathroom as logan turns off the water.

the adrenaline has made way for bone-deep exhaustion, and so you help logan dry off.

it’s peaceful, quiet, as the two of you finish your nighttime routines. he brushes his teeth and watches you do your skincare routine, unwilling to go into your bedroom if you’re not by his side.

he falls asleep before you, for once. typically, he struggles to fall asleep, worried about the nightmares that plague his slumber and the possibility of harming you while unconscious. it’s nice to see him sleeping peacefully, the stern lines of his face flattening into a soft tranquillity that only you get to see.

you can feel your eyelids growing heavy but you need to watch him just a little longer. so you fight the darkness that wants to pull you under, focusing on the hand you have placed on logan’s chest, the way you can feel the steady rising and falling of his breathing, the way his warm skin feels against the palm of your hand. 

“i’ll always come back to you,” he’d told you once when you had expressed the worry that seizes hold of you whenever he’s away for long.

you’re smiling when you fall asleep, those words replaying in your mind. he’s home, with you, and as long as he comes home to you everything will be okay.

[danikamariewrites]

Romance Books

Eris x reader

A/n: another installation of corruption kink Eris x reader but this one is really sweet

Warnings: suggestive and fluff

One of the many Mating gifts Eris has given you so far is a library. A room had been cleared out and built to be your dream library. Big windows, a reading book, and cozy furniture sat among the empty stacks. The cases waiting to be filled by you and Eris.

On your most recent date with Eris he took you into the city to buy you books. “I want you to start filling our library, my heart,” he said as he held your hands outside the bookstore. You were bouncing on the balls of your feet. Anxious to buy out the whole store for your new collection. Your books from home have been moved in already, as well as a few of Eris’s favorites from his own room.

Eris had encouraged you to buy whatever you wanted. You decided to grab a multitude of each genre. Especially romance novels. You thought learning about different aspects of relationships from different angles would be useful. Besides, you didn’t want all the romance of this mating to rest on Eris’s shoulders.

This afternoon, you once again found yourself reading one of your new smutty books in your usual spot. You had picked one of the more mild Sellyn Drake novels. Lots of kissing was in this one.

As the chapter goes on, the male character makes his way down the female's body. Kissing every part of her. Your cheeks heat and you squeeze your thighs together at the rush of arousal between your legs. Clearing your throat you shift your position. You curl up into a ball, pressing yourself against the back cushions and holding the book up to cover your crimson cheeks.

Eris watched as you repositioned yourself to be covered. He could smell your arousal from across the room. Smirking, your mate silently stood, quickly making his way over to you.

Eris plops himself down on the couch hard enough to make you bounce. The scream you let out distracted you from him plucking the steamy romance from your unusually tight grip. “Eris!” You gasp out. “Good gods! Don’t scare me like that,” a giggle escapes your lips as you swat at his chest.

“What’s got you so edge, little fox?” He hums, amber eyes skimming the page you left off on. His wicked smirk slowly spreads on his lips. “My, my little fox. I didn’t know you were reading these kinds of romance novels.” You bury your reddening face in your hands as Eris keeps reading.

“I didn’t want you to be the only romantic one.” Eris let out a breathy laugh, marking your spot and setting your book down to pull you into his arms. “Little fox, what are you talking about? You do romantic things for me everyday.” He kisses you on the head, adjusting you on his lap.

“Really?” You pull your hands from your face, resting them on his strong chest. Letting out a sigh Eris kisses your nose, “Of course. You spend time with me every day, all those little kisses you give me when you pass my desk, even putting my favorite candies on top of my papers is romantic.”

You give your sweet mate a big smile. “I love you, Eris.” Eris stops breathing for a moment. Soft, bright flames dance in his amber eyes. That’s the first time you’d ever said that to him. Eris’s smile widened, “I love you more, little fox.”

Taking the lead you closed the space between you two, slipping a hand into his fiery locks and tugging a little. You felt the bond sing as your lips moved against his. Eris pulled away sooner than you liked. He gently held your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Now,” he whispered against your lips, “how would you like to explore what you’ve been reading about?” You felt your cheeks flush again as you nod slowly. Eris smirks and begins to kiss down your jaw to your neck. Cauldron, how did this feel even better than your lips?

Eris moved lower and lower until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you, holding your hips. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” His voice was deeper and smoother than you’d ever heard. The seductive tone sent a shiver down your spine rendering you speechless. Another nod was all you could muster. “Just relax, little fox. I got you.” Eris winked before slowly pushing your dress up your legs.

[runawrites-blog]

Deadpool Being A Girl Dad Would Include 🌸

-Wade Wilson is the biggest Girl Dad™️ and anyone who disagrees can fight me on it

-Of course, he would have been happy about a boy just as much as a girl but when you came back from a doctor’s appointment to tell him he’d have a daughter he was overjoyed

-When you ask him if he’s crying and tell him how sweet he’s being he just tells you to fuck off and you just hug him tightly

-He buys his daughter so many stuffed toys, going through the whole animal kingdom, then buying unicorns and dinosaurs, too

-He loves painting your daughter's nails and he lets her paint his nails, proudly walking around with his colourful nails and showing off how he matches with his baby girl

-speaking of matching, he will wear clothes that match the ones your daughter is wearing and it won’t matter what colour or motives they have because he’ll gladly wear matching Hello Kitty sweaters just as much as he’ll wear a matching dinosaur shirt

-You have to lecture him on safe sleeping and not letting his daughter sleep in a bed full of stuffed animals

-From the day that he found out he'd have a daughter he was going over names every day, looking them up online, asking his friends about their opinions and overall being very imaginative

-Some of the names were better than others but eventually, you two came to a compromise

(-I personally headcanon his daughter's name to be Bea after Bea Arthur from Golden Girls because in the first Deadpool, he wears a shirt with her face on it, I just needed to share this)

-He adores dressing his daughter in cute outfits, not necessarily in the sense of dressing her in puffy dresses or clothes covered in bows, but in clothes with cute prints

-Wade gets that a baby needs comfortable clothes but that doesn’t mean they can’t have cute kittens on them or be brightly coloured or covered in a glittery print

-He would also totally let his daughter choose what she wants to wear, letting her pick the wildest mix-matched outfits ever

-When his daughter gets old enough to actually understand what books you two are reading to her, he goes out of his way to look for ones with positive female role models

-He buys books where the girl saves the day, where the female characters are strong and independent, where they have agency and big dreams because he wants his daughter to know that she can be anything she wants to be and that she can do that on her own

-That doesn’t mean he isn’t protective because if any bad guys catch wind of the fact that he has a daughter and threatens her, he’ll go ballistic on them

-Spends hours watching Barbie movies with your daughter and then dances around the flat singing along to the songs with her while she pretends to be a princess or fairy

-Wade tries to learn how to do your daughter’s hair and spends countless hours on the internet, looking up tutorials on how to do elaborate hairstyles

-He is always distraught when he can’t get it right and you have to come in and help him

-Totally has tea parties with his daughter and her stuffed animals

-He’ll also be super interested in her hobbies, be it football or ballet, baseball or horseback riding, he will let her talk his ear off about it

-Speaking of ears, when his daughter wants to get her ears pierced he goes with her and lets her sit in his lap so she won’t be afraid but it’s actually him who ends up flinching more than her when he sees her little face scrunch up in pain

-Then he’ll buy her twenty new pairs of earrings while you go on telling him that the piercing needs to heal first and she won’t be able to wear them for another month or so anyway

-Wade is the Dad his daughter's friends feel safe around, and they ask for help if anyone makes them feel uncomfortable or unsafe

-loves watching stereotypical girl shows with her, like My Little Pony or Winx Club

-listens to boybands with her

-has pyjama parties with her where they paint each others' nails, watch romcoms, eat popcorn and do face masks

-Wade is the Dad who loudly cheers his kid on during school functions, big games, dance recitals, you name it and he never misses one of these events

-If he has to show up in full Deadpool gear so he will make it on time then he will

-When his daughter gets older and gets her first period, he panics a little but when you sit down to talk to her about it he is there to reassure her, too

-never embarrassed to buy pads or tampons for his daughter and brings home her favourite sweets to make her feel better

-imagine him standing at the cash register in full Deadpool getup buying menstrual products and chocolate for her

-he is also very good at getting blood out of clothes, so that comes in handy, too

-he will teach her self-defence, showing her all the ways she can protect herself, verbally and physically

-insanely proud when she managed to take him down and slam him onto the floor

-isn't the biggest fan of going shopping but will do the stereotypical dad thing where he sits down and lets his daughter put on a full fashion show to show off her new clothes

-he knows what it's like to feel insecure about your looks so if his daughter ever feels insecure or not pretty enough he will actually sit down to have a serious talk with her and tell her how beautiful he thinks she is

-has the sweetest nicknames for her, from regular ones like "Honey" to things like "Light of my Life" or "My Little Princess"

[hlficlibrary]

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs��here.

🎒 so let's cross the lines we lost by @thecoloursneverfade {E, 165k}

Louis lives a not so quiet life on a not so quiet street. Starting university was supposed to be easy, that is, until he realises his new neighbour is Harry Styles, and they kind of hate each other, so falling for him is definitely out of the question.

(or: Harry and Louis have a complicated past, Niall throws too many parties, Zayn is definitely not pining, and Liam just wants everyone to get along)

🎒 i want you so much (but i hate your guts) by becauselarry / @obviouslybecauselarry {M, 83k}

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

🎒 And I'll judge the cover by the book by harrystylesandstuff {M, 73k}

At twenty years old Harry has his life figured out. He’ll graduate from the private University of Buckingham and move to Oxford to study journalism. He’ll meet someone who shares his values and accepts who he is, and apply everything his successful parents have taught him.

At twenty-two years old Louis has no clue what he wants in life. He’s not sure he’ll pass the year and doesn’t know where he’ll go after that. He spends his time smoking away his doubts about himself with his friends and all he cares about is making sure his family doesn’t fall apart.

They don’t belong together.

Or a Private University AU where Harry is a queer posh prince, Louis is a closeted troublemaker, and neither expect to understand each other the way they will.

🎒 always you (i should have known) by 28goldensfics / @28goldens {T, 60k}

“Oi, now we’re talking. Came running to ol’ Tomlinson for help, gotta say Harold,” He crossed his arms over his chest, and Harry watched as his eyes looked him over. “It's very out of character for you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t feel too special, you're my last choice,” Harry subconsciously crossed his arms as well, giving Louis his own look over.

“Oh, that's a lot of power, I’m your last resort!” He wagged his finger at him, letting out a cackle. “Alright, hit me with it.”

Harry’s lips pursed as he slowly started to regret the words about to spill out of his mouth, “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

or the one where harry and louis cant stand each other and fake date to make someone jealous.

🎒 Love's On The Line, Is That Your Final Answer? by PearlyDewdrops {E, 53k}

Harry can’t believe it when Louis, the boy he’s always had a tempestuous rivalry with, asks him to be his boyfriend. Well, pose as his boyfriend, that is—for a new television game show in which young couples are quizzed on how well they know each other for a jackpot of thirty grand.

Reluctantly, Harry agrees—because he's got student loans to pay off, hasn't he? What's the harm? And he can totally deal with keeping his secret thing for Louis under wraps too. This is all just to win some money. It's fine. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, everything. Obviously.

🎒 catch me if i fall by @shimmeringevil {E, 47k}

“You– how do you–” Louis stammers before attempting to compose himself, fighting off the tidal wave of fear that threatens to wash him away in its wake. “No. You don’t. You don’t know.”

Every protest falling from his lips is in vain, because despite what he keeps telling himself, Harry knows.

Harry's widening smirk is answer enough as he steps forward slowly, walking up until he’s right in Louis’ space.

“You look like you need some time to process things,” he whispers with false-earnestness. Sliding a hand under Louis’ chin, Harry tilts his head so Louis is forced to look up at him. “Why don’t we take a little break and start up again later, so you can mull things over?”

OR - Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

🎒 Through a Mirror Dimly by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {M, 38k}

Louis Tomlinson, in his third year at university, does not expect nor want the roommate that is being assigned to his room.

Harry Styles, in his first year at university, has just been kicked out of one dorm and doesn't want to deal with yet another snobby, rich roommate.

They don't get along, and that's just how it is, until circumstances force them to reevaluate.

🎒 an ocean in my veins (you'll be diving in) by me_her_themoon / @dreamersdivin-headfirst {E, 31k}

But, since Niall is so talkative to literally anyone with a working mouth, it means that when Louis Tomlinson started to take a shine to him, Harry started to hate him.

Because suddenly, it wasn’t just Harry and Niall, and whoever else wanted to join their antics. It was Harry and Niall and Louis.

Did Harry mention that Louis is a stupid fucking prick? He wants to make sure that’s clear.

[or, harry and louis hate each other and niall just wants everyone to get along]

🎒 don't make this easy (i want you to mean it) by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze {E, 24k}

“Harry’s a player. All he does is chat everyone up. And guys like him are just--so ugh. He’s got that arrogant, self-assured smirk plastered to his face all the time. Always smug and stupid, like he could get anyone he lays his eyes on. All he does is make me mad and laugh all the time like he knows something that I don’t. That is so annoying.”

“But that’s just Harry,” Niall shrugged at Louis. “He doesn’t even try to flirt or anything. He’s just naturally charming, but that doesn’t mean he’s a player nor that he’s trying to get into everyone's pants. He’s just friendly. And he likes you. He doesn’t usually fall for people, but he fell for you.”

“Oh, should I feel special then?” Louis asked, snorting and rolling his eyes.

or Harry’s a frat boy who is head over heels for Louis and Louis wants nothing to do with him.

🎒 it's not a walk in the park to love each other by maroonmoonlouis (E, 24k}

“Um, where is your stuff? Have you even packed?” Harry tries not to sound irritated. Louis looks up to level him with an unimpressed glare.

“If you had bothered to pay attention to the news, you would know that I’m pretty sure I can’t leave this apartment.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Harry demands, hoping his panic doesn’t show. If Louis missed his flight, Harry will personally pay out of pocket for a new one. He is that desperate for his alone time.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are roommates forced to quarantine together, but they hate each other very much a lot.

🎒 Love Me Please by @angelichl {E, 23k}

Louis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs.

The only problem?

They're soulmates.

🎒 I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) by @allwaswell16 {E, 20k}

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

🎒 Spinning Out Waiting for You by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {M, 18k}

Harry Styles is a year and a half away from graduating with a masters in potions and he has one huge milestone to reach in his academy career: the Matching Ceremony.

From Halloween night until graduation, matched witches and familiars will have to create a talisman to be a physical representation of their bond. One for the witch and one for the familiar. Most pairings last an entire lifetime.

If only it were that simple.

🎒 if it looks like, feels like, tastes like love... by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix {T, 16k}

Niall has an easygoing smile on his face, bright and unbothered, as if he isn’t facilitating a lunch between Harry and the one person he might truly hate. “Niall. Louis,” Harry greets them both, somewhat strained. Louis doesn’t even look up at him. Harry sighs, taking a seat next to Niall and grabbing for the sandwich on the table. “Hear me out,” Niall says, cutting right to the chase. “Family housing.”

Or, the one where harry and louis hate each other but pretend to date to be able to live in university 'family housing', zayn and liam are their nosy next door neighbors, and niall is the friend who made it all happen.

🎒 oh so familiar by @insightfulinsomniac {E, 13k}

When Harry transferred to the University of Mestonwood, he hoped that he'd finally fit in. As a witch, he's much less likely to feel isolated on an entirely supernatural campus, right?

Wrong. Thanks to the cold-shoulder efforts of Louis Tomlinson, president of the vampire Coven, Harry still feels the sting of rejection from the most gorgeous boy on campus. It's doubly frustrating that everyone else, even Harry's only close friend, Niall, seems to think Louis is a great guy.

Harry vows to actively ignore Louis in return, but his plans are foiled when his familiar, Oli, starts turning off their telepathic connection during Harry's classes. It doesn't take long for Harry to find out where Oli is disappearing to - or, rather, who he is disappearing to.

A story of misguided enemies to lovers brought together by a stubborn orange tabby.

🎒 Do You Like My Sweater? by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {E, 13k}

“Look, for a Sadie Hawkins dance the omegas are supposed to invite the alphas instead of the other way around.”

Niall and Liam shared a look. “That… sounds like the sort of thing you would usually be all over, Lou,” Liam said, face pinched in confusion. Niall nodded his agreement.

“Yeah, if omegas were hosting it,” Louis replied sourly. “It’s one thing if we decide that we’re going to ask the alphas for a change. It’s insulting that they think we need their permission.”

When Harry's alpha fraternity decides to host a Sadie Hawkins dance, outspoken omega Louis has a thing or two to say about it.

🎒 Where Do We Go Now by @jaerie {E, 10k}

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

🎒 Can't Buy My Love, Can Buy Me Dinner by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 {G, 9k}

Is it ethical to accept a dinner date for the free food? And will you hate me when I go anyway?

Fact 1: Louis hates Harry Styles. Fact 2: Louis is temporarily living off toast and spaghetti hoops. Fact 3: ...Louis may be semi-accidentally dating his worst enemy.

🎒 Cut me up, kiss me harder by @lunarheslwt (M, 9k}

“Y’know, you push and push and you’re mouthy and defiant, but it’s all an act isn’t it,” Harry pressed tauntingly. He was helpless to not tilt Louis’ face back up to him by placing a hand under his chin. Louis’ eyes fluttered in response. “You just want to be roughed up a little,” he continued, voice dropping. Louis swallowed harshly, keening. “You just want to be made to take it.” “God, shut UP!!” Louis hissed, fisting roughly at his shirt. “You don’t want that either,” Harry mumbled. “Are you like this with every other omega you fuck too? How does anyone,” Louis seethed, crowding into his space further, “beg you to fuck them when you’re so full of it?” “Who said they do?” Harry asked. “Unless,” he began, voice devious, “You’re speaking for yourself. Is that it? Are you gonna beg for my knot, then? Hmm?” “Shut the fuck up,” Louis bit out. Harry had no time to think before Louis crashed his lips onto his again.

Or, a group of friends, a slightly drunk alternate version of spin the bottle, and the universe having a wicked sense of humour may just be enough to bring one bratty omega and a tired-of-said-omega’s-bullshit alpha closer than they’ve ever been. In more ways than one.

🎒 Lock On by thinlines / @thinlinez {E, 8k}

“Sure you don’t wanna do this? It’s fifty pounds a throw, my man.” The alpha winked as Louis froze before turning slowly back to face him. The twinkle in Liam’s eyes meant that he knew Louis had taken the bait. “Fifty pounds?” Louis exhaled as Liam nodded, holding the water balloon further out. The smaller alpha swallowed thickly. “Why didn’t you say so?”

In which a missed water balloon throw might have led Alpha Louis to the world's most difficult omega

[propheticclown]

I need you all to understand. I've seen so many people talk about how Eridan would be slaying the fashion scene. How his fashion sense is awesome and epic, or whatever. NO! Firstly, I wanna preface this by saying that Pesterquest falls under the category of "Dubiously Canon." so his massive closet isn't actually canon. But secondly, LOOK AT HIS FUCKING FIT, MY GUY!

THE DEEP BLUE WITH THE PURPLE??? THE CAPE??? THE HAIR??? BROOOOOTHER!!! THEY EVEN CHANGED THE COLORS OF HIS SCARF AND PANTS TO LOOK BETTER IN PESTERQUEST!

It's subtle but the color shifts towards indigo/cobalt rather than royal blue. "B-But what about March Eridan? March Eridan looks good and is canon!" I don't know how brainrotted you are from buying all your clothes from shien (derogatory) and temu (derogatory) to think that March Eridan looks good, but let me just show you what it looks like again to refresh your memory.

Ignoring the insanity that's even happening with this image in the first place, this IS the Original March Eridan image. Now let me tell you why this fit is more atrocious than Kankri Vantas' takes on feminism. 1. THE COLORS DO NOT WORK!!! His VIOLET symbol combined with MAGENTA arm warmers and thigh highs and a RED SKIRT???? AUUHHG NONE OF THESE COLORS LOOK AESTHETICALLY PLEASING TOGETHER IN A FASHION SENSE!!! NAME ONE TIME RED AND PURPLE HAVE EVER LOOKED GOOD TOGETHER IN TERMS OF FASHION??? 2. STRIPES AND FUCKING PLAID??? WHAT??? IN CARTOONS, MUSIC, BOOKS, AND EVEN FUCKING GAMES, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH "Ew stripes and plaid." IS SAID??? THAT IS LIKE THE NUMBER 1 NONO IN ANY FASHION WORLD!!! 3. AND WHILE THIS ONE IS A BIT OF A STRETCH, THERE IS NO CONVINCING ME THAT ERIDAN AMPORA WOULD WILLINGLY WEAR THIS SHIT! IT JUST DOES NOT MAKE SENSE FOR HIS CHARACTER TO WEAR THIS OUTFIT! FASHION IS A WAY OF EXPRESSING ONESELVES! FASHION, AS A MEDIUM OF ART, IS A WAY A PERSON CAN EXPRESS HOW THEY FEEL ON THE INSIDE! March Eridan as an outfit, artistically expresses confidence, empowerment and a general "I'm a bad bitch you can't kill me" energy. Here's the problem. Eridan at his base components is envious, closed off, emotionally volatile, and a massive fucking nerd, which the old outfit actually does express.

His clothes are long-sleeved, showing the least possible amount of skin he can, which usually can represent being closed off. His cape is large and grandiose, showing that he likes to be exaggerated and theatrical. His scarf indicates his nerdiness, with it being a reference to Harry Potter and how it could be a tie-back to his nerdy love of wizards. The only other outfit he's shown wearing is with a flashback to when he and Vriska were a kismesis.

Here the outfit, even with as little as we see of it, is big and intense. Unlike Vriska, who essentially doesn't change outfits, Eridan puts time and effort into each theatrical performance he considers himself to be a part of. He adores intricate and exaggerated outfits. Things that are fancy, complex, and over-the-top. So that even though he doesn't feel great on the inside, even though he feels as though he's "wworse than evverybody. all the bodies." He can still look well put together. And that's WHY I don't think March Eridan as an outfit works. It's too casual for him. It's not big or flashy in a way he likes. There's not enough for him. It doesn't cover him up and because of that, he'd feel exposed. He's not closed off anymore. It doesn't exude "Eridan Ampora". Who's "most casual" piece of apparel is probably a sweater vest.

Even in the original image, he looks uncomfortable, like he doesn't actually LIKE wearing it. The only way I can find this artistically working from a writing standpoint is if Kanaya made it for him because, in the story, it is shown time and time again that Kanaya doesn't understand Eridan, so by making him this outfit, she'd take it a step further by not even understanding what he likes. Kanaya doesn't understand that Eridan is terrified of being culled, because Kanaya doesn't have to worry about that. Kanaya doesn't understand the pressures Alternian society is forcing upon him, as an Orphaner. Because Kanaya's only societal expectation is raising the new mother grub. Kanaya doesn't think about how he's most likely going to live the longest out of all his friends. Eridan has the second highest lifespan out of every troll blood color, but even then with Feferi, she's most likely going to get culled by the Condense when she's the proper age to inherit the throne. So in Eridan's mind, he's going to be alone, expected to be an Orphaner until the day he dies, utterly alone to feed Feferi's lusus until he eventually succumbs to old age or dies in war. That's why he's so closed off, yet so emotionally grand. That's why March Eridan doesn't suit him from a fashion-artistic standpoint. It's not what Eridan Ampora embodies as a character. Envy.

[potatoofdefiance]

My two cents and a rant on the allegations and Good Omens

(I will probably regret this later)

This has been eating at me for a while now, ever since the news broke that Neil Gaiman was a sex pest (see infamous TERF-adjacent podcast by Tortoise media) and I have been consciously and unconsciously ruminating over it for weeks now, so here goes.

I think the news of Neil Gaiman hit me harder than I was expecting, and certainly harder than I would have liked.

I didn’t (and certainly do not now) consider myself a “true fan”. I was never a hard-core fan, one that goes to signings or book fairs or cons to meet my favourite author. Partly because I never latched that much on any of the authors of the books or movies I loved, and partly (maybe for the best now that I think about it) because I never had the money, or wasn’t located in a geographically favored area. Meaning I never lived anywhere near wherever events with Neil Gaiman were happening.

So, with all this in mind, how is it that the news managed to hit me so hard?

I thought (read: ruminated) about it, and I think it is because of Good Omens. And the latest times. In my life, and I think a good chunk of other people’s lives too, these last few years have been a roller-coaster. You choose which particular scenario the roller-coaster is set into; mine is on fire, running through a sea of shit and we are being slapped by gooey flaming eels hard in the face.

Maybe someone might enjoy this. That someone isn’t me.

But the point is: I have been struggling. With my life, with a mental health condition, with the world and my place in it.

Enter Good Omens. In an effort to actively expose myself to “nice” stuff, stuff that would, if not make me feel better, at least make me laugh, I started tapping more into the fandom.

I’m not a fandom person. Again, never latched onto anything that had a fandom big enough (where are the Ann Halam fans? No one is making cosplays of Sloe from Siberia, are they?).

But with Good Omens, it seemed perfect for me. I wasn’t invested so much, it didn’t make me feel like I was “lacking” something in order to be part of it. I just felt like I didn’t care enough to really be vulnerable to it, I felt like it could have been a nice innocuous hobby.

But that’s the point. Thinking it was innocuous made me let down my guard enough to actually fall in love with the fandom. Fall in love with those two weirdos of characters (which by the way, I’ll say this now: I think Aziraphale and Crowley as portrayed in the series are more a product of fans and Tennant and Sheen than they are a product of Gaiman and Pratchett. And this is not a bad thing per se, I think, but let’s give credit where credit is due).

And let me be clear: I gained so so much from joining the fandom. It has positively affected so many seemingly unrelated parts of my life, and I’m so grateful to so many kind strangers on the internet who have shared such wholesome art with me, and have gifted me so much, that even putting it into words is simply not enough to explain all of it.

And one of the results of this “wave of wholesomeness” is I also started following Gaiman more closely.

Like so many, I loved Coraline. Gaiman seemed a genuinely nice person. An old guy who had wisdom to share, and who seemed to be fascinatingly non-stereotypical? If that makes sense. What I mean is that he was everything my father warned me against. A goth, weird, a writer therefore an artist (and in my family we know artists are fools who end up on the street jobless and homeless). And yet, to me now he seemed such a normal guy. Yes maybe someone who enjoyed that fashion style, but otherwise very far away from the usual excess of a rockstar. Of course I was too young when he was at the peak of his rockstar years. English is not my first language, and when he was 40 I was in elementary school and just learning about him, and you know, they do not write about his fans passing out at signings or his groupies on the back cover of children’s books.

What I mean is that I didn’t have access to all the media and information about him.

So I start seemingly connecting to this writer, whose works I have enjoyed for the most part, and who seems such a nice guy in how he interacts with his fans and people in general. Such an inoffensive, kind person. And kind seemingly to everyone.

I started liking him. To the point where I remember telling my partner: you know, Neil Gaiman is someone I’d take a coffee with (which in Italian culture is one of the greatest honors one can give you. Having a coffee while sitting at a café and chat for hours is what good friends do).

So, in my mind he had a special place now. He was someone I started to admire and look up to.

And this is, I think, where it hurts. It hurts because even if I wasn’t personally victimized, I never met him, he never acted creepy with me, he doesn’t even know me, it still felt like I, as part of the fandom, had been used for his clout. And also, it hurts to feel like someone you trusted because of how they presented themselves has lied to you.

And on top of that: it is so fucking disrespectful. The fact he thought he could get away with it. With hurting so many people (one is one too many by the way), and causing so much pain, while also enjoying crowds of adoring fans, both online and in person.

I find it personally difficult to reconcile my love of the GO fandom with all of this right now. And I think it’s for a number of reasons.

Firstly because the silence of institutions and people around these facts has opened some old wounds and made me angry again towards a system that I perceive as hostile towards me and people like me who might be vulnerable.

What I mean is: I know that Gaiman is a powerful person, and a lot of people need to bring money home and are tied to contracts and what not (yeah I’m looking at our favorite two male presenting british actors here) and I understand it. I do. And this is exactly why this stuff makes me angry again. Angry at the whole shitty system we live in, where if you happen to be in some kind of power imbalance you might end up having to eat shit and shut up while witnessing violence against you or others and not being able to utter a word about it. This sucks. It makes me angry. It makes me angry that Michael Sheen, someone I like to believe would be among the first to shout “I BELIEVE THE VICTIMS” if he was talking to friends at a bar, likely has to shut up and play nicely because Darth Amazon has some fucking clause written in Braille somewhere that says he has to sacrifice his firstborn if he ever dares to suggest he doesn’t like anyone related to the franchise.

It makes me soooo angry that we stay in the dark, and we only know from those people who are brave, and powerful enough to speak up about something that (allegedly) has been known for fucking years in the writing community. That this person was a creep. That he was treating people, mainly women and non-binary folks, if not bad, at least poorly.

And you know, this makes me even more angry because I have been in such shitty situations too! I was a victim of a system where exploitation and borderline abuse were normalized in a work setting.

And it wakes something deep in me to read that “it was an open secret bla bla bla” and again: I understand why people set up whisper networks instead of taking these giants down. I understand it. It still makes me angry because I simply do not want to live in such systems. Systems where I’m either the sacrificial lamb or I’m the one tying it on the table, or handing the axe over to the butcher, or a witness who has no power to stop the suffering.

I don’t want to live in such a system. But I have to. In my real life. I have to put up with so much shit sometimes, shit that makes me feel like I cannot stand up for my values because hey, I need to pay the bills too. And Good Omens was one of those few things where I could escape a bit into an alternative reality, where everything could be a bit better.

And I’m sure the fandom is still like this for most of the fans. I have witnessed first-hand how supportive and cheerful this fandom can be.

For me though, it still makes me think of all this...tsunami of shit.

I want to be able to enjoy the silly fanart, the memes, the wait for season 3 again. But I can’t. I can’t because my brain does not work like that. Good Omens still means Neil Gaiman too much to me. And I cannot go around talking cheerfully about Good Omens while feeling like I’m feeding into the clout of someone who used their power to coerce vulnerable people. Because (and I might be wrong) it feels like the message I’m sending is: my comfort show/book is more important than your pain or your life. And I can’t. This is not the truth.

I feel for the victims. Probably I feel even more than it would be healthy for me, or normal. But I don’t know, I feel like I connect to them. Maybe because I’ve been a victim of abuse perpetrated in clear power-imbalanced relationships, or because I felt like nobody cared about me and my wellbeing for so long, that eventually I stopped caring too.

And it is bad. It’s dehumanizing to a point where you really start believing you don’t matter. Your wellbeing doesn’t matter. There are more important things.

Ok so, I don’t want the victims, the survivors, to feel like this. They matter. They matter to me because if there’s one thing that is going to re-ignate the sacred fire of defiance in me is being able to stop this self-feeding cycle of self-loathing and misery. You matter. We matter. Vulnerable people who have been hurt matter to me. If there is one thing we can do to resist these systems of oppression and these people who abuse their power, that thing is believing that the people they hurt matter. If not more, at least as much as them.

And the way I show myself and others that the victims and their lives matter to me is by distancing myself from Neil Gaiman and his works, at least for now.

I feel bad for people who might have found themselves unwillingly tied to all of this. I feel bad for Sheen and Tennant, for all the wonderful artists and craft-people who have put so much of their work and love in Good Omens and I don’t want to let them down.

My two cents are that season 3 will not be canceled if they see there’s enough traction, and definitely won’t be canceled unless fans start a crusade against it, which won’t happen most likely.

The fandom loves Tennant and Sheen too much, and these are too much nice people to really hold a grudge against them, so I don’t think it will be canceled.

I’m afraid we (I say “we” meaning everyone who loves Good Omens) will be “held hostage” by Gaiman in the sense that he knows season 3 is not going to happen without him, so it’s either “we” or the majority of “we” behave, or it’s not going to happen. Which again, I don’t think he would lose the opportunity to make some money, and he also has contract duties to fulfill, but it still is worth it for him to try to leverage his power.

I wanted to end this rant on a positive note, somehow. But I don't know exactly what to say. Recently one of the things that has brought me laughs and joy has been the Channel 4 series “We are Lady Parts”.

In one of the episodes they quote a very beautiful poem, which came back to mind when I was listening to Claire (the latest woman who has come forward with allegations) on the “Am I Broken” podcast.

The poem is Speak by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, I will paste the version from the show, because I think it’s very powerful and beautiful.

Speak, for your two lips are free Speak, for your tongue is still your own This straight body still is yours. Speak, your life is still your own.

See how in the blacksmith’s forge flames leap high and steel glows red, padlocks opening wide their jaws. Every chain’s embrace outspread.

Time enough is this brief hour Until body and tongue lie dead. Speak, for truth is living yet. Speak, whatever must be said.

[puffins-studio]

Nico Di Angelo 💀 Will Solace ☀️

You don’t know how happy I was at the news of their solo book! I been off and on Percy Jackson because doctor who but it been on my back burner. And I found the release date of the book before my bad finals and I just had to act as if I didn’t see if so I could focus , problem is my adhd made me completely forget about the book until the pretty cover came on my to my feed and i dropped everything to read it.

I love them💕 I Want to do an embroidery for them too but I think I might listen to the book again as I can’t pick a favorite line to do. I might also do the other main character and add my headcannon ideas as I feel so proud of these came out!

Hazel

Percy & Annabeth

Jason

Leo

If you want to read my headcannons about their outfits, then it under the cut as I have many ideas.

[ID: The picture is a felt doll that is the shape of a gingerbread man with a big circle head Nico Di Angelo and Will solace. Nico have light color felt for skin, very dark brown hair that is to his shoulders and have a bit of a curl. He have black ties shoes, dark grey rip pants, a black and grey shirt with the skull on it. He have on a sliver studded belt, with beads for the studs, and a chain coming off of it. He have his ad jacket with a Italy flag patch in the right side and a sun patch in the left side. He have Bracelet on the hand with the sun patch sleeves. It a rainbow beaded one and a yellow and black twist. On this other wrist he have a black, read, and blue sparky thread one, a ace flags: black, grey,white, purple. And he have a beaded disability flag colors are black, green, blue, white,yellow, reddish pick, black. Will has light color felt for skin, short yellow blonde. He has ears and a little bit of black felt is peaking out for hearing aids.he have a blue shirt and a fort pocket, a little coco puff is in the pocket, he have on cargo shorts, a yellow orange sweatshirt around his waist, he I have on one blue sock and one read with cream shoes that have on the left one embroidery purple hyacinthus, a lyre and in the other side is a bow and arrow and the symbol of healing that have the single snake. He have camp bead and a sliver bead for the ring on the chain. On this left wrist he have a rainbow bracelet, and a random color one that is blue, light purple and light gray. On his other wrist is a bi flag one pink, purple, blue. And the last one is a matching one with Nico that is black and yellow.:ID]

Headcannons for Will

Star Wars

-I was going for like Star Wars socks, as this boy is either in flip flops or cowboy boots, he rarely wear anything else so he have fun socks to show off when he does

-(Maybe not the first time but maybe one of the first few time Nico said he love Will. Will make the Star Wars reference with Hans saying ‘I know’ and Nico is slightly confused. But then imagining his reaction when he all invested in the movie and then Hans say the line and Nico just stops and is like WILL! And will just start laughing “I couldn’t help it!”)

Shoes

-He only have one pair of sneakers and I was trying to think of something to Blightten up his outfit, and thought the Apollo cabin can’t leave anything plain. So Apollo theme shoe (dark idea is that they belonged to one of his older brothers who painted them and died and Will wanted to bring something that reminded him of his family into the underworld with him)

Coco puff

-Little coco puff in Will’s pocket I can’t decide if the little puff is attached to Will because it a deamon that Will actually helps Nico fight or the puffs are attached to anyone who have the same deamons so like if the little one is bad self confidence, then Will also have to work on his bad self confidence

Beads

-Enough beads for him to have gotten to camp one year before Percy. So he had two good years with his siblings before the wars. Just so he also have a family when his mom is on tour. But I do also think he has a lot of hidden Apollo kid power that he doesn’t know about so he think he weak with a randomly strong small. Like that is until Apollo learns where he went and is like how are you alive. Will “power of love… and really bad nicknames”

Disabled

-I tried to give him hearing aids, they enup being hidden in his hair, I was trying to think of a color that would stand out against the yellow hair as I also thought he would pick a noticeable color, and I wanted with black. Just him going into the underworld with so many extra batteries, but also him and Nico do a bit of asl or just come up with little hand signals.

Bracelet

-Rainbow one, bi vone, matching one with Nico, and a random one from a sibling

Headcannon Nico

Bracelets

-Nico has bracelets as during craft time some of the younger Apollo kids were make some and they all like to make Will some. At the time Nico was there making their matching ones at the time and will was making one for Nico. And then one little kid come up and whispers something to Will he grins. Nico look up because the silences and Will just nods to Nico, then the little kid goes over to Nico and holds up the bracelet and said they made it for him. Will fills in that they want to give it to him and so Nico just like ‘yeah sure’ and hold out his wrist and the kid tie it on before running happyly back to their table. Will leans over like ‘now you can’t take it off’ Nico just looks at him and Will is just ‘how did you think I get so many.” And then the younger kids even some from other cabins make Nico bracelets and he feels honored,

-Random one that is supposed to be the one the kids made him but also slightly Star Wars theme, I was trying to make it with the dark sparkly thread as I can imagine that how a kid see Nico. The other one is beads for the disability pride flag. Either Will makes if for him and he have one too if something with the flag as I love deaf Will and disabled Nico. Or another little kid make it for Nico who also have a disability and that help Nico acc his. I had to add a asexual one too, I can’t help it. Beads so he can mess with them when on edge

Beads

-And I love the idea that nico some how get the camp beads either he steal one each year as he wanted to be apart but hey keep them in a box some place and then after will saying something like he always had a fear of Nico leaving, and to show him he acc camp as home, the next morning Nico walked out of his cabin with the beads. Or Will just keep saving beads for Nico. Like it started as Will keep going around asking about Nico and got upset when he was told he left already, maybe he ask Percy and Percy tell him something like Nico doesn’t like camp. But Will meet Nico in the small window when Nico was at camp before he first ran away and got a little crush that his siblings notice, and then when Michael was giving the beads to his cabin, he give two to will, and just held a finger to his mouth before Will could say anything and say something like ‘you need to hold onto Nico’s bead, in case he comes back.” And so when Will was head he keep asking for an extra one to save for Nico. And he gives them to him at one point, maybe even just leave them by his bed during the 3 days.

Jacket

-Nico get a over size jacket so Will can steal it sometimes. He had a Italy flag patch, maybe Chiara got it from him because they are both Italian. And then sun patch maybe as a slight joke that the Apollo kids got him as he is always with them. And then I tried to do it so it look like he sewed them in himself. Pockets are totally full of chocolate and random rocks he finds, that he offers to Will and younger campers.

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter fourteen: stuck forever by the glue

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.4k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), feeling familial and self-pressure, established relationship, spanish cause joel is latino, soft joel, very minimal like sweetie possessive joel, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, this is honestly just an ooey gooey syrupy sweet chapter y'all

a/n: this is so wild. it's done! (basically....epilogue to come) i seriously can't express how much it means to me that y'all read and kept up with and cared about my little story. i have fallen in love with writing and i just really thank you all for everything you've given me! i feel so lucky to have so many incredible, talented, all-star humans reading something silly i've made. THANK YOU.

and an extra special thanks to el @northernbluess who has been such a big support throughout my process of writing this story. she's beta-read nearly every single chapter and has helped me so much in developing the characters and the story and just everything. can't write without you, el. love you!

alright, enough from me - enjoy joel & mariposa's ending! and please drop any thoughts or scenarios or milestones you want to see for them in the epilogue into my inbox!!!

“Fuck, oh shit, Joel!”

You’re whisper-yelling as you scramble to throw his comforter off of you, kicking it away from your feet and jumping out of bed. One arm moves up to cover your chest as you whirl around the room looking for your clothes. As you slip your panties up your legs and let them snap against your hips, Joel stirs awake enough to pick his head up, glancing around in a daze.

“What is happening? What’s wrong?” he groggily asks, turning over from lying on his tummy to his back, arm bending to rest against his forehead and shielding his eyes from the early summer morning light peeking through the curtains.

Puffing out a breath to blow the hair from your face, hands occupied with attempting to clasp your bra behind your back, you shoot him a look.

“Check the time,” you order flatly, nodding your chin to his alarm clock at the bedside.

After a delayed beat, Joel’s head turns, studying the display before his bed shoots back to look at you, arm dropped from his head. With his eyebrows raised and mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, he chuckles quietly at your distress.

Amid your activities from the night before, much like the last week of nights spent with Joel, the alarm on his side had forgotten to be set. Normally, you would brush it off, so long as the two of you were up in time for work, which Sarah usually made sure of thanks to her promptness, even as a ten-year-old.

But today, no, today was a weekend and also the day of the neighborhood’s annual block party and summer barbecue. And you had promised — assured — your mother that you would be up and at ‘em early to help her prep all the food she promised to make and to help decorate the street and all the tables.

Joel had promised — assured — that he set the alarm last night before the two of you started fooling around, distraction imminent for the man with his wandering hands and blood pumping. Turns out, you were apparently too tempting, and too exhausting, of a time to focus on anything else.

“Darlin’, it’ll be fine. Doubt your mom has even noticed your absence, she’s probably so busy already she’s just fluttering around your house.” Joel’s face returns to a drowsy expression, one eyebrow quirking up for a moment as you angrily groan at your t-shirt when struggling to find the head hole with it pulled over your head all lopsided.

He rises from the bed, padding over to you and reaching up to pause your frantic hands. Slow moving, he rights the material and gently tugs it down, revealing your frustrating and pouty look.

Joel coaxes your arms out of their stubborn crossed position over your chest, aiding them into the holes and fully pulling the t-shirt down. Fingers graze the top of your panties from underneath your cotton shirt, satisfied smirk when he feels goosebumps rise.

“She may not notice, but my Dad, who’s probably doing nothing, will notice and tell my mom. And she’ll tell him to go downstairs and check on me.” You swat his hands away gently, stepping backward and turning your head this way and that way to find your shorts. “And if he goes downstairs, and I’m not there, but then magically appear minutes later from my studio, well, I think they’ll clock that something’s up.”

Thick arms wrap around your waist, freezing you in place. One hand gently grips the tip of your chin between his index and thumb, tilting your head to look into his eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Mari baby. You’ll get home and you’ll go upstairs and they won’t even know you were gone for a second.” Joel punctuates his reassurances with a kiss, rubbing slow circles in your lower back.

“You are extremely calm in this situation. Why aren’t you more stressed out than me?” you interrogate, raising one brow and pursing your lips. He chuckles and shrugs, incredibly nonchalant, before pecking your lips once more.

“S’cause I woke up with you next to me.” The grin is evident in his next kiss, pulling one from you no matter how much you fight it. “Plus, had some pretty great sex last night.”

“Oh my god, okay, I’m leaving. Such an idiot—” you smack his arm playfully and untangle from his arms, “ruining a perfectly sweet, wholesome moment.”

“Didn’t ruin anything. Y’know you were thinkin’ the same thing,” he counters as he throws on boxers, following you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

You glance over your shoulder, shooting him an eye roll while biting back a smile. Padding quickly into the kitchen, you slip your shoes on from where they sit next to the back door, turning toward Joel in a rush as he strides over to you. Still sleepy eyes take you in, grabby hands finding your waist and pulling you in tight to his chest while you groan.

“J, baby, I gotta go.” He buries his head in your neck, shaking it enough for his messy curls to brush against your skin in a tickle. “I’ll see you later, okay? We jus’ have to make it through the party, and then I’m all yours. Deal?”

Lifting his head with an elongated sigh, he nods subtly and sneaks a quick kiss, “Deal. But I kind of don’t want to share you with the whole neighborhood tonight. Wish it was jus’ you and me.”

“Me too, baby, but we’ll survive. We’ve made it this long, haven’t we?” Fingers glide through his hair, pushing it up off his forehead. Before you step back and reach for the door, he pulls you in again, one hand finding your jaw to hold you there as he gives you a slow, syrupy, toe-curling kiss. The linger of it tickles your lips when he pulls away, a drowsy, beaming smile filling his face.

“Love you, Mari baby. See you later.”

“Love you more, J. See y’all later.” One last effort breaks you free of him, slipping out the door with him still on your tail, large palm making contact with your ass in a smack. A look back at him gives you a wink and smirk in return, Joel’s wide frame filling the threshold as you descend his deck stairs and scurry across your lawn to make it home in time.

God, you’re too old to be sneaking around with your boyfriend.

But damn, if he doesn’t make it fun.

Late afternoon, when the sticky, humid air has cooled down only fractions from the peak of the day, the whole onslaught of the neighborhood gathers on your cul-de-sac. Lawn games litter front yards of everyone around, the food tables set up between your driveway and Joel’s. Two grills are lit and manned on the asphalt in front of your garage, barely enough space to cook all the food that could feed an entire army, plus all of your neighbors.

The skirt of your baby blue sundress swishes against your thighs as you flutter around the folding tables set out to frame the street. Borrowed, mismatched tablecloths have been blanketed over the surfaces, and it’s been your latest task to arrange simple centerpieces of wildflowers from your garden beds built by Joel, and vases pulled from the backs of cabinets in your house. With every inch of your movement, your eyes flicker to track Joel’s, licking your lips as you watch the fabric of his muted blue t-shirt pull and strain across his shoulder blades. The hair at the back of his neck curled more from the perspiration that he was building while carrying coolers full of ice, beer, sodas, and water all about the street.

While putting the finishing touches on the last centerpiece, it seems that when you look up again, the whole neighborhood has shown up all at once. Joel’s gone from your line of sight, and you resign to finding the nearest cold beer and being pulled into a conversation with Mrs. Clarke and some of her book club ladies from the street over that you don’t know as well. They fuss over you, admiring your dress and your hair, and commenting repeatedly about ‘how gorgeous and youthful’ you are. As you open your mouth to accept the compliments again with a polite ‘thank you’, a familiar voice cuts in from over your shoulder.

“Excuse me, ladies, I hate to interrupt y’all but I was hoping to steal her away for a bit. Kind of need a partner for some cornhole and we’ve got a winning streak to maintain.” Joel shoots all of the older women a charming grin when you turn to your side to see him, his eyes finding yours for a split second.

“Oh, god, another one of you youngin’ neighbors! I have been loving to see so many new folks move in and all you kids that have returned. It is so lovely,” Mrs. Clarke shares, nodding her head with a mischievous grin toward Joel, “Y’know, y’all are pretty handsome together. Maybe it’s just 'cause y’all are young and beautiful still!”

Mrs. Clarke and the other women laugh, a wide smile on your face as you shake your head, “C’mon, Mrs. Clarke, you’re beautiful — Joel’s actually been tellin’ me he’s got a crush on a neighbor, my bets are on you.”

She laughs again, waving off the compliments, “Well I wouldn’t go gambling if that’s how you bet, sugar. I think you’d be at the top of all the lists if you ask everyone here; you’ve been the talk of the neighborhood since you came back from that big ol’ city you were in. Everybody’s been saying how you are still such a sweet girl, but I can tell something’s different. In a good way.”

She shoots you a wink and you soak in the sentiments, looking over to Joel when he cuts in again.

“I think I’d agree with ya, ma’am. Definitely different in a good way. Like whiskey in a teacup.” The look in his eyes is filled with the silent affection that his words coil around, saying all that he can’t say at the moment. Instead, he wraps up the conversation for you, thanking the four women before letting you step ahead of him, his hand barely ghosting over your back in what would look to be an innocent gesture.

“Now did you really want to play bags or was that just an excuse?” you tease, taking a sip of your drink while you two wander over to the game set up in the grass.

Joel shrugs, smile toying at his lips, “Had to be able to find a way to sweet talk my crush now, didn’t I?”

A roll of your eyes and growing smirk encourages him, nudging your side with his elbow, “Y’think Mrs. Clarke is gonna go around gossipin’ about us when the whole neighborhood finds out I’ve got a crush on you and not her?”

“Oh definitely. Lived here my whole life, that woman knows everybody’s business before they know it themselves. Don’t be surprised if she’s told everybody you’re in love with me by the time this evening’s wrappin’ up.” Squatting down, Joel gathers up the bean bags from the surface of the handbuilt gameboards, handing you the green while he takes the yellow.

As he deposits them one by one in your open palm, he shoots you a genuine, shy smile. “Well, wouldn’t be a lie so I guess it would jus’ help me out. Maybe we should tell Mrs. Clarke and then everybody will know tonight.”

“Haha. Very funny, Miller,” you reply dryly, shooting him a playfully annoyed look before starting the game between the two of you.

The back-and-forth flows easily for the two of you, both in gameplay and banter. At the game-point throw, you sink it in the hole, cheering for yourself when you nail the score of exactly twenty-one. Joel tosses his own, flicking his wrist only slightly at the last moment to scratch the throw, leaving you victorious. He smiles to himself as he watches you eagerly clap for yourself, turning to him and nodding toward the spread of food that was finally laid out.

You’re so beautiful.

The look you’re giving him sends a jolt into his spine, fuzzing his brain while the butterfly in his chest rapidly pumps its wings.

“C’mon, let's eat. All that losin’ probably worked up an appetite for you.” Without clasping around his, your hand brushes your fingers against the back of his palm. The softness leaves an itch on his skin, his nerves simply jumping for the chance to touch you. You lead confidently while he trails behind in your wake, observing as everyone sends you a smile or a greeting that you return right back with a glow.

He’d follow you anywhere.

And he knows how damn lucky he is that you’re willing to let him.

It’s what he can’t help but continue to think about as the night rolls on, watching you from his place at a table with a handful of the guys from the neighborhood, including your dad and brother, and Tommy, who stopped over after his own plans for the evening went belly up. While he nurses the beer from the glass bottle in his hand, you are bouncing with a baby on your hip to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. It’s the kid you nanny, having taken her from her parents to let them eat and enjoy a moment of calmness with everyone while you keep the young one entertained.

The happy baby babbles in your arms as you dance with her subtly, standing in a small group of other neighbors. It’s so natural for you, the way you’re nurturing and easily adapting to having a little human attached to your side. He can’t shake the way his body is begging him to get up and go over to you, wanting to help you, to play pretend for a moment that it’s an addition to your little family in your arms.

He nearly stumbles over himself to get out of his seat when Sarah pulls you away from the group, thanking his daughter inside his head for giving him the perfect excuse to be close to you in the moment. Tommy chuckles to himself when he follows where Joel’s gaze is aimed, shaking his head subtly at his older brother’s obvious stare.

Joel doesn’t pay him any mind as he walks over toward you and Sarah, brushing against your side as he folds forward at his waist to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s curly hair. The baby is babbling again in your arms, wiggling and mouthing on her hand while she stares at Joel. He shoots her a smile, opening and closing his fingers in a loose fist to wave.

“Hey there, little one. Now who’s this?” he asks, eyes finding your face while you grin at the happy baby girl in your arms.

“This is Amelia. She’s Brian and Steph’s daughter, the one I’ve been nannying this summer since Steph’s gone back to work,” you adjust her again and Joel nods, reaching out absentmindedly to lay a hand on Sarah’s head.

“Isn’t she so cute, Daddy?” Sarah laughs quietly when Amelia squeals excitedly. Her hand tugs on Joel’s shirt to grab his attention back from staring at you, eyebrows raised, and the same look on her face that she gets when she desperately wants a toy from the store. “I want to get a baby!”

He nearly chokes on his breath when he rushes to respond, hearing your quiet giggle as he coughs before clearing his throat. Addressing Sarah, he gives her an understanding smile, “Babies are pretty cute, aren’t they? But you’ll need to be much, much older until you can get a baby, mija. Like you’ll need to be Posey’s age or even better, you can be Daddy’s age and get a baby for yourself, alright?”

“That’s not very fun. You’re old, I don’t wanna wait that long. It’s like an eternity,” she replies bluntly, causing you to laugh and Joel to shoot you a warning look before he returns to Sarah.

“Trust me, Bug, it’s not that long in the grand scheme of things. Before I know it, you’ll be out of my house and I’ll be even more ancient, apparently, and you’ll have your own babies. All in due time, mija. Don’t wish away your life.” He pats her curls while she stands, thought clearly turning in her head.

A lightbulb goes off and she gasps, clapping her hands together as she says only to the two of you, “I know! You can get another baby, Daddy, and then I’ll have a cute one to play with. You can get one with Posey.”

Sarah beams with what seems like a completely genius idea to her, waiting for a response or a plan of action to get this all set in motion for her. You laugh again, stepping in when Joel can’t seem to find the right words to say.

He doesn’t want to outwardly deny it. Definitely doesn’t want you to think that is something he wouldn’t want. He’s told you as much.

But he also doesn’t want to step in any hot water, doesn’t want to put his foot in his mouth if it really is something you haven’t thought about much.

“That is such a smart idea, Sare-Bear,” you grin comfortingly and reach out a free hand to brush her hair back, “Y’know who else you could ask to have a baby? Uncle Tommy. Why don’t you go ask him why he doesn’t have a girlfriend so that he can give you a cousin?”

Sarah giggles and matches your mischievous energy, scampering off to go wholesomely harass her uncle. You turn to Joel, your face twisting into curiosity when you can’t read the look on his face.

“What? Should I have explained where babies come from to her or something instead? Was it a bad idea to sick her on Tommy?”

“No, not at all. To answer both your questions,” he bites back from absolutely beaming, turning his gaze to baby Amelia’s chubby cheeks when his voice drops to a level only audible to you standing inches from him, “Would you?”

“Would I what?” Your head tilts to the side, adjusting Amelia on your hip and hiking her up. Joel opens his mouth to clarify his question when Steph sidles up next to you, thanking you profusely while she takes her daughter back into her arms. The interaction warms Joel’s blood in his veins, the wings of the butterfly pushing the rattle of nerves into his throat.

Everyone loves you so much here, and you really do have love for everyone.

A fucking solid gold heart inside of you and Joel can’t believe you’ve given even a piece, a sliver, of it to him to safeguard.

Turning your attention back to him when the two of you are left alone, you lift the corner of your lip up in an anxious comfort, “So, would I what?”

“Would you have a kid? With me. Would you have a kid with me?” It all rushes out, words blending together but you understand all the same. A quiet laugh rolls from your chest, skyrocketing his worry in the moment before you shake your head and give his bicep a quick, but reassuring squeeze.

“Course I would, J. Don’t think anything would make me happier.” Your eyes sparkle in the setting sunlight, the solid and steady beat of his heart surely heard over the music and noise by everyone around you both. Pressing his lips together to restrain himself, he nods slowly and attempts to remain casual.

“I wanna kiss you so fucking much right now, Mari.”

“I want that, too. But I think Mrs. Clarke would be jealous. Stealin’ you away from her.” The joke breaks the tension, sending him into a small fit of laughter, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

“Guess I better go ask Mrs. Clarke the same question then, huh? Keep my options open.”

“Better go. Give her enough time to tell Mr. Clarke she’s running away with the neighbor forty years younger than her.”

“Definitely think that’d go over better than you, the beloved, sweet neighborhood girl, running away with me.”

“Oh hush, doesn’t matter how well it’d go over. Jus’ matters if we can run fast enough away from the angry mob that’s gonna come after ya.” You wink and laugh again, your head shaking back and forth before it whips in the direction of your mom calling your name. Another soft and subtle touch is fleetingly felt against his skin, turning over your shoulder to mouth a quick ‘love you’ to him as you walk away.

He returns it before searching around to fill his hands before returning back to the table and sitting down next to his brother. Joel sets the full beer bottle next to his half-full one, eyes still trained on you before Tommy grabs his attention with a hard jab to his side and snags the full beer.

“So why the hell is my niece asking me when I’m gonna get a girlfriend so I can have a baby?”

Night has overtaken the sky, with sprinklings of stars and a waxing moon as its centerpieces. Everyone along the road has turned on their porch lights, extra portable camping lights, and hanging lanterns brought out to make enough light to continue the party. The handful of neighborhood kids run around to catch fireflies while the adults either stand around in conversations or gather in the open space between all of the tables to dance. Your parents, ever the hosts that they are, have popped back into the house to gather more drinks and desserts for everyone. Wrapped up in a chat about a potential hire for a job with a guy from a few streets over, Joel hasn’t paid mind to where you’re at or if Sarah’s running along with the other kids. He shakes the man’s hand and promises to stop by when he can during the week to check out exactly what the job would entail and if his guys can get it done.

Turning away, the sight of you is perfectly framed by warm lights, a tunnel of everything else fading away while he observes you from across the street. The mop of curls he loves dearly bounces around with you, your hands holding Sarah’s and spinning her around the dancefloor. His daughter’s laughter hits his ears over the sound of the music, tugging a smile onto his face that nearly matches your beaming grin.

This whole night, he hasn’t been able to stay away from you long. And he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of how desperate he is to stay in your pull, to be able to make you smile and laugh, to make you happy.

You do so much for others, offering a hand or making them smile with your genuine care and humor. Everyone is so drawn to you, he’s not the only one who wants to have you around. And he knows about what you’re going through behind closed doors, the things you tell him about when no one else will listen or understand. The same things he heard from you when you were thousands of miles away, voice crackling over the phone. All he wants to do is to be there for you, to show you the same kindness that you show him, that you show everyone you encounter.

Ever since he met you, he’s never wanted to be apart from you. But he didn’t trust himself not to make selfish decisions, so he pushed you away that first summer, and let you go the second. Now, with no endings in sight at the end of summer, anything is possible.

One thing’s for sure though — he’s tired of hiding.

All it does is take up more energy that he could be giving to you, to Sarah, to a better future for all of you.

And fuck’s sake, if he doesn’t want everyone to know that you chose him. The best person he knows — has ever known — chose him and continues to choose him, to forgive him, to love him. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know what everything will look like for y’all in a week, in a year, in a decade, but all he can say is that whatever it all entails, however much it scares him, he wants you there by his side. He needs you.

Without a second thought, he moves toward you as the song changes, depositing his nearly empty drink on the nearest table. Swiping his clammy hands on his jeans as he walks, he takes a deep breath before he taps you on the shoulder. He shoots Sarah a wink over your shoulder while you turn around, her giggle bringing a lopsided grin to his face.

“Oh, Joel, what’s up?” you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.

He addresses Sarah in the next moment, putting on a formal tone and clearing his throat, “Excuse me, Miss Sarah, but would you mind if I steal Mariposa away for a dance?”

“Of course not, Daddy!” she grins widely, showing off her missing tooth that came out a few nights ago, “Have fun, Posey!”

Sarah scurries off to find her friends from the neighborhood, and Joel holds his hand out with a soft smirk. Utterly puzzled, you glance around before focusing back on Joel at the sound of his voice.

“May I have this dance, Mari?”

You’re surprised, stumbling out a response as you tentatively place your hand in his, “Yes, I mean — yes, but — What are you doing, J?”

With your hand in his, he leads you further into the couples dancing along to the sweetly slow love song playing. In the middle, he stops and faces you, keeping your hand in his, holding them up close with a bent elbow while his other finds your waist and pulls you in closer. The two of you start to sway and Joel’s lips settle next to your ear while you dance.

“Joel, everyone’s staring…and talking amongst themselves. What are you doing?” you ask in a hushed voice, pulling away to look into his eyes. Anxiety flashes in yours and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before replying.

“M’letting go, mi amor. Let ‘em stare,” he replies, the corners of his lips rising in a tender grin. He slips his hand from yours, fingers trailing down your arm to bring it to rest on his shoulder like your other one. Both of his hands spread across your hips, pressing into the fabric of your dress and pushing around to settle at your lower back.

“But they’re gonna start spreading shit and I know you weren’t ready before to tell anyone else — my parents might be around, J. I don’t want you to do this if you aren’t ready, or if you’re just doing this for me.”

He leans closer, tilting his head down to lay his forehead against yours. Holding your eyes, he speaks quietly, voice rasping with the strain of the volume and the emotion coating his words, “El amor es ciego, pero los vecinos no. (Love is blind, but the neighbors aren’t.) There’s always going to be people to gossip, or to whisper about us. All that matters to me is what you think, and how you feel. I want to be able to tell everyone that you’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m so lucky, and I am so proud to be your partner in life, Mari baby. M’tired of trying to predict what the future’s gonna be for us, and m’tired of trying to keep the reality of life away from us. Truth is, I don’t think there’s anything that life could throw at me or you that we couldn’t get through together. I need you there, always, sweet girl. Todo va a salir bien. Everything will work out.”

“I-God, I don’t even know what to say…” Tears well at your waterline, none daring to fall over the edge while you attempt to remain composed for the crowd that is surely watching everything happening. “All I can think about is how much I love you, Joel. And I want all of the same things, and I know that with you, we can handle whatever life has planned for us.”

“I love you too, baby. Te amo siempre, mi Mariposa. (I love you always, my Mariposa).”

The song’s last few notes fade out, some of the couples filtering out of the dance floor when the music changes over. After another short peck from Joel, the bubble the two of you were in dissolves when Sarah runs up, asking Joel if she can have another cookie. He gives her the quick go-ahead, watching her rush off as quickly as she came, and suddenly you’re reminded you’re in the middle of the whole neighborhood.

No one says anything as you lead Joel away, hand-in-hand. But a few looks are exchanged and the eyes of everyone feel hot on your neck. A glance around proves your parents aren’t outside still, and your stomach flips with the real possibility that someone, particularly nosey neighbors, may have beaten you to the punch in terms of telling them about you and Joel.

Tugging him from a good few steps ahead, Joel widens his strides to catch up easily as you beeline toward your garage, the mechanical door wide open for people to come and go as needed. You stop in your tracks right in front of the door to the inside, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Joel.

“Alright, it’s now or never, J. Either we’re the ones to tell our parents, or they find out from Mrs. Clarke’s book club that we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other and—”

Joel interrupts your ramblings with a gentle chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looks over your face before locking his eyes with yours.

“So are we the ones meant to be saying we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other?” he asks with a smirk, one eyebrow raising in question.

“Oh, c’mon, Joel.”

“M’kiddin’, Mari. It’s now or never, and I am not a man that says never. So lead the way, sweet girl.” He gestures to the door behind you, a genuine smile on his face quelling your heightened nerves.

If you could read his mind, you know he’s freaking out right now.

But no, instead he’s keeping it cool on the outside, trying to be a calming presence for your own anxious thoughts.

Can’t help but ask himself questions. What if your parents get upset or angry? What if they dismiss it, not believing that it would ever work between the two of them? What if they take it out on you? It’s not your fault that they didn’t find out earlier — would they hate him if he defends you in an argument? What if they don’t think he is good enough for you?

He has his own doubts, but hearing it from your parents would crush him.

You walk ahead of him, holding onto his hand while you walk inside and through your empty living room. He drops his hand from yours right on the threshold of your kitchen and gives you a tight smile when you look back at him. Wiping his clammy hands on his jeans, he takes a deep breath before following you into the room.

Clearing your throat to grab your parents' attention, you saddle up to the island and lean forward with your elbows on the cool countertops. Joel stands next to you, a respectable distance away but you feel the itch to bring him closer. Your dad turns around first, pausing his task of filling a cooler with ice from the freezer.

“Hey there, kiddo. Oh, and heya, Miller! Y’all havin’ a good time tonight? Need anything?”

“Or are y’all bein’ sweethearts and have come inside to help us with all this?” Your mom nods over her shoulder to the rest of the desserts plated across the counters.

She turns around next after washing her hands at the kitchen sink, patting them dry with a towel before she crosses the small walkway to settle on the other side of the island. Joel shakes his head when you’re silent for a moment, giving both of your parents a smile.

“No, don’t need anything. And I would be happy to help, ma’am—” Joel ever so politely offers before you interrupt him.

���I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to y’all about something.” Your voice wavers only slightly, a stuttering sound coming from your throat as you clear it again. One of your mom’s eyebrows raises in curiosity, much more sprawling thoughts happening in the subtle twitches of her eyes as she looks at your face, then at Joel’s, and back to you.

Your dad is a bit oblivious.

“Joel and I will leave ya to it, y’all can fill me in later,” he faces Joel, nodding toward the direction of the door and closing the top of the cooler he packed full of ice a minute ago. Joel opens his mouth to respond when you fill in again quickly, holding a hand up to stop your dad’s movements.

“No, um, actually, it’s better if you’re both here and Joel’s here ‘cause, well…” A flip of your stomach nearly sends your dinner back up, but you swallow it down and lock your eyes on your hands as you finally spill the secret you’ve kept for the last three summers.

“Joel and I are together. Like in a relationship. A serious one.” You kept adding clarifications to fill the silence that’s fallen over the room, and Joel steps closer, reaching a hand up to rest on your back between your shoulder blades. He braces for ridicule, eyes trained on you as you keep yours on your hands.

Nothing. Your parents are saying nothing.

And you cannot take the silence anymore, so you begin to recount it all from the first summer, meeting him and getting to know him — sparing the details of the two of you…getting together. The short month-long second summer, Joel holding out his hope for you to stay but eventually letting you go. The year between that time and the beginning of this summer, infrequent phone calls and life updates. And finally, this summer, when you came back with no end in sight and nothing holding the two of you back. Given the chance to finally give it a proper go, and falling even more in love with him than you thought you could love anyone.

Your eyes flick to Joel’s as you confess that, and he returns the sentiment with a warm smile and his hand rubbing slow circles against the bare skin of your back exposed by your thinly-strapped dress. 

God, you really do love him.

So much so, it occurs to you that it doesn’t really matter what comes after this. You choose him, and he’s chosen you, and your family would have to accept it. You’ve spent too much time without him in your life, completely, and there isn’t going to be another summer ending in heartbreak.

At the end of your three-summer abridged summary, Joel turns toward your parents, speaking up for himself. “I just—I want to tell you both that I care very much about your daughter. I love her dearly, and my life’s gotten astronomically better since she stepped into it. Mine and Sarah’s. You’ve raised an incredible woman, someone who is kind but never lets anyone push her around. A complete force.” Joel turns back to you, a growing, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I can only hope that Sarah gets the same fierceness and is as self-willed as you. I’ve said it before, but you’ve got a golden heart. You’re magic.”

The four of you talk it through, fielding their questions and small concerns as best as you can to reassure them. They share a look before your mom speaks, taking a deep breath that lifts and drops her shoulders.

“We can’t say that it’s not going to be an adjustment. I mean, dropping this all on us after not telling us for so long is a lot to process—”

“Of course, of course. I should’ve said something earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I just…Did you feel like you couldn’t talk to us about it or something, sweetie?” There’s a thickness in your mom’s voice, one that makes your chest ache.

“Oh, mom, no. It wasn’t like that, I—”

“I was the nervous one. I asked for more time before we told you this summer. I know how extraordinary your daughter is; she is definitely too good for me, and I was real nervous that you wouldn’t approve. I mean, I definitely have a different life than probably what you pictured. But I want to promise you both that I am proving myself every day to her. I always want to be better.”

To your surprise, your dad cuts in before you or your mom can say anything.

“You’re right. Our daughter is extraordinary…” He paused, continuing, “But you’re a good man, Joel. Trustworthy, dependable, respectful. And you very clearly love our daughter. There’s nothing more I could ask of someone for her. So long as she has a good, happy life, I’m content.”

Joel exchanges a relieved smile with your dad, your focus on your mom again as one arm snakes around Joel’s back to hold you closer.

“Your dad said it. If you’re happy, honey, then we’re happy…” She studies the two of you with tender care in her eyes, holding her hands to her chest before releasing them with a content sigh. “And I mean, I knew.”

Immediately, your brow furrows with confusion and Joel laughs, holding it back when you shoot him a warning look. Returning to your mom, you raise a question in response, “I’m sorry, you knew? How did you know?”

“Well, nothing was ever confirmed. But I did mention to your father quite a few times how I caught you sneaking glances and smiles toward Joel.” She directs the next question to your dad, whose focus has been lost on the plate of desserts in front of him, “And, how often did I mention to you catching Joel looking at her like all of the sunlight was radiating from her? Like he was completely head over heels.”

“Oh, all the time,” your dad answers nonchalantly. You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, Joel’s laughter bubbling over while he tugs you into his side and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“To be honest, I thought maybe he was just in love with you and you were either oblivious or waiting for him to say something. Glad to hear that I was right!” she jests, laughing to herself and exhaling dramatically.

“So does this mean I can get my renovations done with a discount?” Your dad tilts his head up to look directly at Joel who holds a hand up in oath.

“Free labor from me always, sir. Can’t promise the discount for Tommy’s help, though.”

“Oh god, Dad, seriously?” you groan, rolling your head back while Joel looks on with a smile.

‘What? What’s wrong with asking that, kiddo?” Once again oblivious, your mom waves him off to drag the cooler of drinks outside. When he’s gone from the kitchen, she rounds the island, beaming with a grin.

“Well, I just can’t wait to already live next to my grandbabies! Don’t even need to move to be any closer, unless we move in with y’all into somewhere bigger—”

“Alright, Mom, I think the party’s probably missin’ these desserts, yeah?” You usher her by handing her a tray. She gives you a motherly eye roll before resigning her thoughts and taking the plate.

“Fine, fine, I’m going!” She shuffles in her sandals before glancing back at the edge of the threshold, “We really are happy for y’all.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Joel, c’mon. You’re part of the family now, call me Jen. And you can call her dad Mark, even if he gives you shit for it, he’s just trying to make you nervous. And then tell me, I’ll give him shit right back.”

At the click of the door shutting behind your parents, you face him and grin ecstatically, clasping your hands together. Joel’s shoulders relax with a sigh and your arms hook around his neck. He scoops you up in a hug, laughing when you shriek excitedly. Spinning the two of you around in a small circle, he settles still again, eyes locking with yours as a wide smile replaces his once apprehensive expression.

Joel nudges your nose with his, slow, warm breaths exchanged in the closeness before he kisses you. Slow, delicate, light melting into fervor — hot and heavy with all your love for each other.

Breathless, you pull away and he chases your lips for a chaste kiss, pressing his forehead against yours while you both start to laugh quietly.

“What a summer, huh?” you ask, another fit of laughter leaving your mouth.

“Definitely was a fun summer, sweetheart. And the last two, too.” Joel shakes his head, thumb brushing your cheek as he grins back at you, “Can’t wait to have all my summers with you, Mariposa.”

An ache is felt in your cheeks from smiling, but the dull pain pales in comparison to the all-over lightness; adrenaline and excitement make you feel as if you’re buzzing head to toe. Stealing another kiss from Joel, you feel him grin against your lips. Breathy chuckles fill the space between you when you pull away, tilting your head back in his hand to see more of his face.

“Wanna dance, J?”

“With you? Anytime, Mari baby. Lead the way.” He nods toward the door, taking your hand and following you closely as you head back to the party. Coming back out, all the eyes and whispers aren’t feeling like heat against your skin, instead the warmth of Joel’s palm grounds you and sends a shiver down your spine. He takes the lead in the moment, stepping ahead when you falter for a second and pulling you to the middle of the asphalt-turned-dancefloor.

The ever-so-familiar piano trills, along with the bright, smooth voice of Don McLean start to play out on the speakers, bringing wide smiles to both of your faces. As the beat picks up, Joel starts singing along, taking your hands from his shoulders and spinning you around as if you were swing dancing.

Both of you were clumsy, tripping over each other, but your laughter only brought brilliant, broad grins to your faces. The rest of the party fell away — it was only you and Joel, and all the memories that this song brought back.

The skirt of your dress kicks up as he spins you around and around, pulling you into his chest and swaying with you for the entire song, his deep and drawling voice singing along to the lyrics and sending goosebumps spreading across your skin despite the humid, sticky heat of the night. His steps slow down at the end, turning you both in one final, exaggerated circle before settling on the last note.

Joel looks down at you, adoration glinting in his eyes and his dimple showing as his mouth holds his smile. One of your hands slips away from his, reaching up to skim your fingers along his patchy beard and rest at the side of his neck. With another song turning over on the speakers, Joel leans down and catches your lips in a supple kiss. It’s slow and saccharine, savoring the taste of you on his tongue before he pulls away, waiting with bated breath.

 You break the moment with a sweet, melodic laugh and a shake of your head. 

“Of course, that song came on. Did you plan all this, Miller?” you interrogate playfully, the world still tunneled between the two of you.

“Absolutely not. But pretty serendipitous, yeah? Guess we should take that as a sign. Right person, right time. Finally.” His response gives you another laugh, nodding before going in for another short kiss.

“Yeah, think it’s safe to say it's the right time, finally. Was always the right person.”

“You can say that again, Mari baby.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes

[imthepunchlord]

With Wish supposed to be a return to good ole fashion Disney villainy, I think they missed a big opportunity. By what we got, there's enough set up I saw for a literal return of old Disney villainy, particularly one of the more iconic.

I could see Maleficent easily fit into the film.

Magnifico could've worked, he had the charisma, fun, and spite. But wound up an awkward flop. The Magnifico we got wasn't really set up as a villain. Everyone is happy in his kingdom, he doesn't tax them, doesn't demand residents to give up their wishes and he safeguards all of them even if not granted, he keeps his people in the know of what's going on, and grants wishes to people free of cost. He crafted a utopia. And I saw people in his kingdom just demanding more and more of him, and saw them as ungrateful. And yeah, by set up, Asha did feel more like a villain in contrast to him, starting a revolution because she was told no, and having a risky belief that all wishes should be granted or returned to people, not even considering that there are just as many dark and selfish wishes as there are pure and selfless ones. I wound up standing more with Magnifico instead of the hero. And it shouldn't be so.

Additionally, he doesn't exactly click with the villain label. Having an ego and being petty is not enough to make someone a villain. It's actions and intentions that do. Which he doesn't have either. He has no ambition as a villain. And despite being petty to Asha, he still promises to safeguard her grandfather's wish. Why, they had to bring out an evil spell book to corrupt him and make him fit the villain label. And that's not good for your villain...

Which just leads to my thought process that maybe Maleficent should've been the villain. And there's just a lot of details I saw in the film that could point to that thought and how it could work.

To start, there's the vagueness of his backstory. We have an unnamed group that destroyed Magnifico's home when he was younger. Also this inspired him to study and learn magic. Maleficent can fit with both details: she does have an army and is a sorceress (and maybe fairy?), and typically it takes magic to fight magic.

Plus, their names can be solid counters to each other and could work off being foils, with Magnifico relating to greatness, noble, and exceptional wonders while Maleficent is great evil and harm.

But, the biggest thing that sells the thought for me, all relates to the mysterious evil book Magnifico has. Where did he get it? Who made it? Why does it have this ability to corrupt anyone who looks into it?

Maleficent is just an easy answer to all of those questions.

She's the Mistress of All Evil. It's plausible she'd make a spell book that would corrupt any that opened it and read through it's pages. And if she's a major threat, it makes sense for Magnifico to think he needs to get this potential source of power and wickedness away from her, keep it under lock and key.

Also, everything tied to the spell book just screams to me Sleeping Beauty references.

From the dragon on the cover.

To the claw-like green magic that reminds me of Maleficent's magic.

To the "thorny vines" take over of the kingdom.

All the details and magic to the book remind me of Maleficent, and it makes me wonder if maybe she should've been the true villain of Wish. Maybe even a surprise twist villain, the true return to Disney villainy.

Even more so, when you introduce a vague threat that shaped one of my your major characters, defining his backstory and reasons for where he went in life and built up, typically that threat comes back. And I would think wherever he got that spell book from, would want it back.

And I can just see Maleficent having the cunning and spite to get Magnifico to destroy the kingdom he built up, having the audacity to stand up to her, thinking he can challenge her power. She could've whispered to him with Star made him scared and nervous, escalate things that he looks into the book and gets corrupted.

You could even go so far to have her be the Queen in disguise, playing a long game.

This film also could've established her rivalry with benevolent fairies and wish granters, especially with fairies tied to stars in older Disney films, which are also tied to wishes.

Maybe it would've been too much, but I do think, over all, it was a missed opportunity not doing more with Maleficent and her potential ties to that book, cause everything about it just reminds me of her and seems like a big Sleeping Beauty reference. Could've been cool for Magnifico to mention he got it from "The Mistress of All Evil", just to give a more definitive origins to this plot device that made him a villain, though not a good one... I will say, concept wise, he was a better villain from what I've seen. I am also bummed that we didn't get our villainous couple. You cowards, Disney.

[moonliched]

Hello baby!

Kisses u on the forehead

How r u feeling? I just finished rereading your fic and damn i love it so much it's in my solid top 3 of mer fics and is keeping its 1st place proudly. I just melt into a happy puddle while reading it! And during a day my mind often drifts to think and theorise about your work! Also you are so cute and bubbly it only adds on to the whole vibe in the book. I loved little fun facts! They are adding so much character and perspective to the people and situations! Can we have some more?

Btw can we give you some ideas for plants and stuff?

Kisses!

can't wait to see more of your magic 🌸✨️

you n me, perchance (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

i am feeling like i need a long holiday! i hope your autumn is off to a good start🍁🍂

you have no idea how big of a complement this is aaaaaaaaa, i always wanted to make a fic likeable enough to reread xD you're so nice to me❤️

you can absolutely give me whatever ideas you'd like, i welcome the excuse to chat n make up cool fantasy stuff😊✨ thanks for the ask, i am absolutely squeezing you in a hug rn!!

i gotcha more fun There Are Many Benefits facts ;3

🪸 Sun and Moon coexist calmly and happily. they are very close and their bickering isn't in seriousness. so if you join in, at any moment they might exchange a glance and gleefully gang up on you at the drop of a hat

🪸 Meryn can see a deeper range of certain colours than the mers can, like the difference between the white of Sun's eyes and his paler pupils. so Sun thinks he's being sneaky when he looks at Meryn without moving his head, but obviously Meryn can tell that he's staring dead at them. they find it funny

🪸 after Meryn revealed in chapter 16 that they intend to build BON-BON a body, he promptly spent the rest of the night searching up cool robot images and brainstorming stuff to put in it. he 100% has not thought about the sheer work that's going to go into making just a regular body, nor the fact that Meryn would never ever trust him with rocket launchers

🪸 Sun and Moon are aware on some level that Humans Wear Clothes (though how they know this is a spoiler!) but they don't fully understand the minutiae of the when and the why humans keep covered. so, just enough to get flustered when they're removed lol

🪸 Meryn was considering getting piercings before their hand webbing was removed. now they have lost their taste for any permanent body modifications

🪸 BON-BON spies on the Glamrock team's meetings, but not as much as he used to. he gets bored easily and a lot of what they discuss references previous tasks and goals he also didn't really listen to when they were first brought up. as a result, he misses out on a lot of stuff that would make for juicy gossip-and-mystery-solving content to share with Meryn😅

🪸 Sun thinks that Meryn's 'nest' (bed) is tragically bare. it must be because they have no one to take care of them! he has plans to rectify that

🪸 Meryn typically responds with a one word 'okay' when they're agreeing without meaning it

🪸 BON-BON thinks the Glamrock team's apparent bleeding-heart stance on AI is just performative, and that if the time comes to ever put those beliefs into action they would fall back on reporting him as sentient

🪸 Vanessa only followed Meryn's example of using he/him pronouns for Sun when he spoke like a human, by mimicking her words

🪸 it's often obvious to Sun and Moon when Meryn doesn't understand something, and they find it amusing to call them on it, or let it play out if Meryn doesn't express their confusion. they think it's cute

🪸 As of chapter 16, Meryn is getting sick of Monty helping himself to their food and drink and has a plan to punish him for it >:3

🪸 BON-BON's enjoyment of shopping is more to do with the new experience of getting to express himself through his appearance than fashion itself. he's still learning what he likes and how he wants to present himself

🪸 Sun and Moon love making Meryn laugh, as they don't actually laugh or smile by themself often. but tbf all of their expressions are super interesting to the mers

[gingersnaptaff]

Shwmae pawb! (That's 'hi everyone!' in Welsh. :3)

So, GIANTS. Giants are stock characters in both Arthurian AND Celtic legends. Wales has many giants and almost all of them are absolute BASTARDS. Fun. Also, some are connected to mountains. Also fun!

Anyways, I thought I'd do a quick lil thing about them cuz honest we have so many you can - and somebody probably will - do a book about them.

So, just a quick thing about Welsh. 'Fawr,' which is an appellation means 'the Great. It can also mean big. It's why when people swear in Welsh and say 'Iesu Fawr' what they're saying is, "BIG JESUS!"

Two diddy things:

I enjoy the fact that 'Giant' is doing double duty. Can be bastard, can be nice. Spin the cauldron and see which u get.

Now, I was gonna do your biggies like Arthur, Gwenhwyfar, Cai, Gwalchmai, Uthyr, etc, etc. But, honestly, you probably know that they were, at one point or another, seen to be giants in Welsh mythology. (And Arthur was probably on the Bastard side more than good if you believe Gildas. But he is biased cuz Arthur killed his brother so 🤷🏻‍♀️)

So, a lot of the giants are connected to places like Cader Idris - who is probably the most famous giant lad after Bendigeidfran - or Y Cath Palug who prowled around Môn (modern-day Anglesey.)

I kinda debated on whether or not to cover Ysbaddaden Pencawr but I decided to because he is probably a giant you've all heard of and weaves into the 'giants associated with places' because his fort is supposed to be in their Preseli Hills which are in western Wales, mainly in the Pembrokeshire Coast Path. They also have really pretty bluestone and slate too!

Now, you all know the story in Culhwch and Olwen but I just kinda like the fact that Ysbaddaden means 'Hawthorn,' because it supposedly symbolised love and protection in Celtic mythology which, if u think about it, Ysbaddaden kinda loves Olwen in his own way. (I mean he'll die if she marries but, y'know. Doesn't mean he doesn't love her.)

Next up, IDRIS GAWR.

Yes, he of chair fame. If you go up it then supposedly you'll either come back down mad or a poet. I would seriously pray to become a poet. The walk down would make me mad enough. It's STEEP!

Now, before Arthur killed him and buried him up there, he was a king - who may have been a real-life dude. UNCLEAR! - and it was said that he could sit on the mountain and survey his whole kingdom which is COOL AS FUCK. Apparently, his motley band of giants: Yscydion, Ophrom, and Ysbryn also have mountains named after them in the vicinity of Cader Idris.

Next: Rhitta Gawr.

I distinctly remember him being one of my first brush-ins with Welsh Arthurian legends cuz I read about him on the back of a leaflet about Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon). If I recall, the detail that got me the most was the fact that Arthur supposedly defeated him by tricking him and pretending to eat a large amount of food but secretly depositing it into a sack and when Rhitta Gawr asked Arthur told him that he'd 'cut a hole in his stomach.' Rhitta, trusting this dude, who he LITERALLY WANTED TO FUCKIN KILL EARLIER, chopped a hole in his stomach and promptly died. 👌🏻👏🏻 Da iawn Rhitta. Now, also, I want to say that one of the various spellings of his name, 'Ricca' also pops up in 'Culhwch and Olwen' as Arthur's half-brother, the King of Cornwall. Idk if they are supposed to be the same person or not but, like, Arthur was a giant. It's possible.

Now, onto some little lads.

You'll notice that most of these lads were slain by Gwalchmai. I fear he was That Lad. For the Gawain Girlies, how does it feel to have Wales' best Giant fighter for your character?

(Also, NO LAUGHING AT PYSCOC. IT'S PRONOUNCED PEE-SCOC. Don't say, as my friend did, 'Castell Cock' when you mean Castell Coch. I will murder.)

Now, for the Cath Palug, tumblr with NOT let me add an image (boo!) So, I will write it up for you and then YAP.

'Palug (legendary)

Cath Palug is mentioned in a triad (YTP n. 26) where we are told that sow, Hen Wen (white head), while being followed by the magician Coll ap Collfrewy, brought forth a kitten at Maen Du in Llanfair in Arfon. Coll threw the kitten into the Menai (pls don't. The Swellies, man. THE SWELLIES.) and she was afterwards Cath Palug. Another version, (26 W) adds that the sons of Palug fostered it to their own harm. And that was Cath Palug and it was one of 'The Three Great Oppressions' nurtured therein.

The latter version treats Palug as a personal name but it's been also suggested that it could mean 'Scratching Cat.' (Very apt if u ask me.)

The only other mention of it is in 'Who is the Porter?' in the Black Book of Carmarthen:

'Cai the Fair went to Môn

To destroy hosts [or lions]

His shield was a fragment

Against Cath Palug

Nine score fierce [warriors]

Would fall as her food.'

The poem breaks off at this point but it's assumed Cai was the slayer.'

And then in Arthurian Legend: 'in the Vulgate either Arthur slayed the cat or was slayed by it. The Welsh version, which says Cai was the slayer, was also known to John Fordun who, in his Scotichromincon writes: 'But we have heard old hags tell some such fable - that it so happened that one of Arthur's soldiers - Kayus - had to fight an enormous tom-cat; which, seeing the soldier prepared to fight obstinately, climbed to the top of a great rock, and coming down, after having made its claws wondrous sharp for the fight, it gashed the rock with sundry clefts and winding paths beyond belief. Kayus, however, they say killed the cat.'

It's interesting that in the different versions of the triads the reason how Y Palug got her name is different. I'd argue that, perhaps, the Scratching Cat is the more likely reason for the name, as it has the common root 'pal' which might mean cut, lop, scratch claw, or dig pierce. It also shares the same root as palu (dig) and paladr (spear shaft.)

Also, the fragmentary poem says that Cai's shield is 'mynud' against the cat which can plausibly mean polished or mirrored. So he's a bit like Perseus against Medusa! Also, Cai as a giant is probably the perfect combative against a giant cat considering his powers. Like, I would NOT wish to fuck with Cai or Cath.

Anyways, that it for today! Hope u all enjoyed!! Also, I do absolutely think that Gwalchmai was justified in killing all those giants. He needed enrichment. The Giants probs pissed him or Gwenhwyfar off. I think she probably even helped him with some cuz I would.

Hwyl fawr!

(Also, if u have any suggestions as to what u wanna read about next lmk! Marriage laws will be up this Sunday!).

[reriart]

RE: Your ask I saw a little it ago.

So you know all those BG3 fics where someone’s with a Teifling or Dragonborn and the POV character is really into their partners tail? What if Astarion was curious about what his partners tail was capable of?

Happy Friday!

A different kind of reading

Hi! Thanks for this request. I really like the prompt. It took me several days to decide whether to use a tiefling or a dragonborn (I had never used the latter, so I created one on BG3 to study it a bit). In the end, considering the fact that the dragonborn has many scales, and the nature of fanfiction, I preferred to proceed with a tiefling! I wanted to write Astarion in first person but he is a very difficult character to play, so I preferred a third person. I hope you like it, anon! ;)

As always, please remember that English is not my native language!

Tags: 18+ smut, MDNI, gn!Reader (using they/them), tailfucking, tailjob, Tav is a tiefling that uses magic, kink, sex, mention of Astarion’s past, a hint of angst because why not (trauma + healing at his own times), Tav is insecure about their appearance. Also, a tiny Karlach x Dammon. Divider by @anitalenia. You can read the fic also on AO3.

‘So that's how it works...’ Astarion commented, a sly smile on his face, as he flipped through some old, yellowed pages. ‘Never judge a book by its cover.’

Hard as a Rock and Ninety-Nine Other Spells to Use Under the Sheets is already a questionable enough title; the red linen cover with a big phallic rock on it with fake, cheap gold details is even worse. 

Yet, Astarion had been attracted to that book a little earlier in the evening, among the various texts available in Dammon's house (who would have thought the shy tiefling would be so interested in such topics? ), who had offered a hot drink to the whole group after meeting them in Baldur's Gate (probably in the vain hope of flirting with Karlach... who drank the boiling tea, describing it as ‘refreshing’). Just as the two were flirting, the elf had sneaked around the house, noticing piles upon piles of books. Obviously intrigued by the common theme, he had started leafing through some of them only to be interrupted by Tav.

‘You really read a shit ton of books,’ they had commented, peeping over the vampire's shoulder, causing him to jump on the spot and snap the tome shut. ‘Our blacksmith friend has obscene tastes, truly. Who would have thought such a depraved man!’ had been Astarion's reply, in an irreverent tone... before shoving the said volume under his leather jacket, only to read it in his own tent shortly after sunset to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

Astarion had always spoken freely about sex... at least with strangers, to whom he showed his libertine façade. But with Tav things were distinctly different, ever since he had confessed that he had really fallen in love with them. The tiefling had awakened pure, honest feelings in him, but also anxiety, fear. Fear of making things too fast, fear of not being enough, fear of not being himself when he was with them; of being rotten, broken inside, irreparable.

But Tav had taught him how to love, first starting with a hug that had left the vampire stunned - a simple gesture, as innocent as it was frightening, because no one had ever hugged him since his transformation (perhaps his mother, when he was a child, but it had been far too many years for him to remember). Then the caresses: superficial, gentle, then increasingly intimate. From the face, to the chest, and lower. Astarion had discovered he loved the tiefling's touch, after an initial hesitation. The act of trust itself was the thing that made him feel on cloud nine, far more than the excitement.

Then they had progressed to lovemaking. Astarion had discovered the pleasures of being cared for, snuggled, in ways he had never even imagined. Because imagining being everybody's whore at the Szarr palace was easy, but receiving attention, being the centre of it... that was hard to imagine.

He had discovered the gentle touch of Tav's hands, their warm, sweet mouth, the warmth of their sex, so different from his cold, marble skin...

But there was something that haunted him: their tail. Tav had always been ashamed of it: the tieflings they had known in their life - including their parents, but also Karlach - all had beautiful tails. They had a very simple one, without spikes or cartilage, and also quite thick, with a very round tip. For this reason they tended, whenever possible, to hide it. 

Astarion had never dared to touch it: he had realised it was a weak point for the tiefling. However, that very curious book had led him to discover a fascinating truth.

"Tieflings have an extremely sensitive tail, which swells even more during mating, making it an erogenous zone suitable for all kinds of spells, especially those involving fire and ice."

Astarion's attention had stopped at ‘erogenous zone’. 

He had long harboured a fantasy that perhaps even he, who had probably had more sexual partners than his years spent as a vampire spawn, would have described as perverse. He not only wanted to touch that tail, kiss it, lick it, maybe try to bite it to feel if the blood tasted different there, but also... to have it inside.

Astarion knew very well that he took pleasure in penetration. Tav had occasionally played with his asshole during oral sex, inserting a finger or two, making him tremble and come on their tongues.

But, gods, what would he have given for...?

‘Astarion?’

Tav's face popped up inside the heavy, battered tent, a friendly smile always ready to light up his face. ‘Are you alright? It's the middle of the night and I saw you still have your lamp lit. Do you need blood?’

This was another thing that used to drive Astarion crazy: the tiefling's attention to detail. He cared for him all round, always paying attention to his bloodlust, his moments of weakness when he had none left in his body; they noticed when his body stiffened from anxiety and knew about the nights when the elf couldn't even go into his trance, nights when he usually just read until his eyes were on fire.

‘N-no, thank you sweetheart, you already gave me some yesterday and I don't want to debilitate you any more than...’

‘That book again? What's so good about it?’ they asked, closing the curtain behind them and stretching dangerously towards the tome. ‘Give me here-’

‘Nothing special! It's just, you know, very funny, haha!’ he replies, closing it and throwing it into the backpack behind him using all his agility - not enough, however, to stop their Misty Steps. 

‘Sooner or later I swear I'm going to break that magical necklace’ he mumbles, as Tav appears behind him, grabbing the book in time. ‘Let's see what you were reading...’

With a theatrical gesture, the tiefling's hand rises, making the pages move to where the reading had been interrupted.

"Tiefling and sex: a hellish pleasure, chapter 16."

Astarion swallows, averting his gaze. ‘’It's-it's not what you think,‘’ he stutters, throwing off his mask once more. ‘I was just curious...’

Tav begins to read, stroking their chin. ‘So, you want to use magic in bed. Are you sure?’

‘I... that's not what I'm interested in,’ he confesses, knowing that he can't blurt it out this time. Also because the tiefling's tail is finally free and not hidden under pounds of fabric, which brings all of Astarion's blood between his thighs. 

It is beautiful: smooth, free of frills. It moves like a whip, like an oak branch on a rainy evening. He licks his teeth.

‘But it's a book about magic and sex. And you don't look to me like a great lover of the first one. Drop it, Astarion,' they intimated. But the vampire's gaze is fixed on the tail moving left and right, the round tip caressing the air. He feels an emptiness inside him, a void he wants to fill.

Tav sighs, turning around. ‘There's something in the tent that-’

They breath catches, realising that behind them there is, in fact, only their tail. 

"Tieflings have extremely sensitive tails...’ they reads out loud, then snap the tome shut. 'Is that what's going through your head? Do you want to touch my tail? You know I hate it and if I could I would..."

‘’It's gorgeous,‘’ he whispers, in a trembling voice. ‘I can't stop thinking about it. I know you can't stand its appearance, but I want to touch it so badly...’

Tav doesn't know how to react. It is the first time Astarion confesses this interest of his, even complimenting. He had only previously asked to touch it and had been smacked full in the face by the said tail.

But they are attentive to details. They notice the vampire's erection, his dilated irises. His cheeks, perhaps by a trick of the light, even look a little pink.

‘All right, but just once. I don't want you to... look at her any more than you have to,' they warn him, prodding their thumbs with the horns, a gesture Astarion has by now learned to interpret as shyness. ‘Let's consider it an exchange for that time I touched your ears.’ 

The elf is amazed when they turn around, showing their shoulders. The tail comes out of a hole artfully sewn between the trousers, so as not to show more than it should. 

He releases it from that restraint, lowering it just enough to look and touch it in the warm candlelight, but without showing any extra skin. Smooth, thick, to the top, round and perfect. Astarion reaches out a hand, making them both gasp when he touches it. 

He runs a thumb over the top, squeezing the tip between his fingertips just enough to make his beloved sigh. He then proceeds down, bringing it close to his face, stroking it with the tip of his nose. ‘Gods, you're so perfect.’

The cold breath on his skin makes Tav gasp, who plants their claws on his own thighs and bites his lip, trying to hold back a groan; which they're unable to do when Astarion reaches the base and after a brief massage begins to lick the patch of skin that joins the tail to the body.

‘Oh, gods, Astarion... wait!’

‘You know you have to use the safe word in these cases,’ he whispers. Ever since they had started making love, because Astarion was still exploring his tastes, the tiefling had suggested using a word of caution in case either of them really wanted to interrupt. This was because, occasionally, they both tended to ask to wait when they really just wanted to get on with it. 

... ‘and I'm not hearing it.’

Tav, almost instinctively, stretches their body downwards, raising the bottom upwards, moaning as softly as possible so as not to wake the others, while he continues to lick the base. Twisting the tail in his hands, just like a cat when its attention is drawn to prey.

‘Now, hold still,’ he orders to Tav, licking languidly along the length. ‘Tail included.’ They execute, trying to spy him from behind the shoulder. ‘What are you gonna do?’

‘You'll see soon enough, my love.’

Astarion flicks his tongue up and down, helping himself with his hands to bring it to his mouth. The fangs caress the skin, without scratching. The temptation to bite is high, but for now his plans are otherwise. ‘Stop...’

His mouth finally reaches the tip, and after two languid licks, he holds it between his lips and sucks, then tries to take as much of it into his mouth as possible.   ‘Oh, gods...! Astarion, what are you...?’

The elf begins to move his head up and down, as his hand sneaks under Tav's trousers, admitting a laugh-like cry when he feels their underwear wet. And Astarion's own cock begs to be released, as he begins to soak his trousers. Soon he stands up, abandoning his tail and lowering his trousers. ‘Get undressed,’ he begs them. ‘I need you now.’

After they both get naked, Astarion starts kissing Tav's neck, inevitably ending up biting and sucking some blood. ‘Mh, you look delicious tonight, my dear.’

‘Thank you.’ Their hand plays with his hair. ‘I really enjoyed that. I didn't think you could do something like that...’

As he licks the two tiny holes to make them heal, his hands return to the Tiefling's thighs. ‘...That's not the only thing I plan to do tonight.’

‘Oh, yeah? And tell me, what goes through that well-literate mind?' they tease him, pushing so that the thief's dexterous fingers can suppress the desire that is driving them out of their minds.

‘Do you remember when you told me that you would like to do what you desired with me? That night when you got drunk and were terribly, incredibly horny and sexy, but we couldn't do anything because we all had to sleep in a shit room?’

‘Yes.’



‘Then do whatever you want with me, but under one rule. You will have to use only your tail, my dear.’

Tav turns their head, raising an eyebrow, but without interrupting that pleasurable touch between his legs, his eyes full of desire. ‘Are you sure? I don't want you to make you...’

‘I'm asking you,’ he reassures them, kissing them on the forehead. ‘I'm comfortable with it, because it's something I've never done or tried. It's undiscovered territory, just ours.’ In spite of the burning desire, there is an infinite thoughtfulness and gentleness in his eyes and voice. ‘I'm yours.’

The tiefling turns completely back, kissing him. Through the tadpole, they feel a strong curiosity from Astarion, curiosity that - surprisingly - they have as well.

‘Do you really like my tail that much? It's so ugly. Karlach's one is much more beautiful." They stroke their own tail, analysing the humid tip. 

‘But it's not yours. And then yes, I find it dreadfully gorgeous... and arousing,’ he confesses, lying down on the pillows. They lie on him, caressing his face. The long tail strokes his testicles, then the length of his cock. 

‘Mmmh...’

‘Do you like it like that?’ they ask, as the tail makes one, two, three laps around Astarion's manhood. ‘Tell me if I'm tightening too much.’

Astarion gasps, gripping to the velvet underneath him. ‘D-don't stop. And hold tighter.’

The tiefling begins to wiggle their tail, tightening.. It's not exactly a piece of cake, but keeping it hidden all the time has led them to train it and execute precise movements. The vampire trembles, arches his back in an attempt to accompany the motion; his thrusts begin to become imprecise, words disjointed, eyes glazed over.

‘I want you inside. With the tail. Please!’ His tone is desperate, barely enough breath in his lungs to speak. Tav releases him, noticing how red the tip is.  ‘Did I squeeze you that hard? Does it hurt?’ they ask, concerned. 

‘N-not at all,’ he babbles, covering his face with his hand, his cheeks red with blood and growing excitement, as he spreads his legs apart. Tav makes to approach his cock and take it in their mouth, but he stops him. ‘P-please... just the tail, now! I can't take it much longer.’

A smile paints their faces as they lie on top of him, one hand holding the tip of the tail in front of his entrance. Astarion's beads of arousal had been so copious that they descended to his asshole, which allows Tav to insert the tip without difficulty. The vampire groans, eyes wide with astonishment as the tail slides deeper and deeper, opening him up, filling him. It moves up and down, but also sideways, forming an "s". He bares his fangs, clawing at the pillows, breathing heavily. Tav watches him, a hint of pride in their chest at knowing that the part they had so rejected now makes both feel good. 

‘On your hands and knees’ they order, taking Astarion by the hips and flipping him over. The elf leans on his elbows and knees as Tav resumes penetrating him. The tail fills him, until it hits his most sensitive spot, moving left, right, spinning. 

‘Shit!’ he screams, collapsing, but Tav holds his bottom up and stands up, spreading his legs apart. ‘That's it, enjoy it, my love.’

This is too much for the poor thief. He comes suddenly, with long, white streams hitting the pillows, carpets and floor. Tav rides his orgasm, until Astarion is breathless.

‘That was... incredible,’ he gasps, trying to recover, but his legs don't respond. His body still shudders, just as his cock continues to release little pearls of pleasure. ‘I hope you've changed your mind about your tail.’

Tav smiles, stroking his back. ‘Yeah, I think I have.’

Remember that trauma is not forever. I happened to read about using kinks to overcome PTSD, and I thought that was fitting for Astarion. As a SA survivor, it's important to me to use this fanfiction both for fun and to leave a positive message when I can. Pain and suffering do not last forever. <3

[twig-tea]

Only Friends Ep 6 Scene By Scene

This is the episode we've all been waiting for. It's the first episode where everyone is objectively a bit of an asshole; it's the first episode where truths are finally talked about, it's the episode that starts to answer two of my most burning questions (what is Boston's home life like, and where is April?), and interestingly it's the first episode we get without any obvious narrative framing or character perspective.

It was so interesting, as the clear pivot point of the story, that there was no obvious framework this ep, but this entire episode was parallels and callbacks and hypocrisy/relying on viewer knowledge to understand all of the subcurrents. I have so many thoughts that I'm talking about each scene so this post is LONG.

First scene: Top and Mew by the pool. Not enough people are giving Force and Book credit for keeping the awkward tension between these two even though they are having textbook cute moments, because these characters still don't trust one another and this scene establishes that before the rest of the episode blows them up: Mew says he's not sure they'll be together in 3 months, explicitly calling out the fragility of their relationship; and Top gets defensive at Mew insinuating he doesn't need a relationship and doesn't trust that they'll stay together, and straight-up lies that he's stopped doing drugs and having casual sex [though I do wonder how much he believes it's a lie because he's clearly cut back from his usual, and when someone does something all the time changing to doing it rarely does feel like not a big deal in comparison] and asks what else about himself he needs to change for Mew [all, by the way, while Mew is preparing to undergo permanent surgery to his eyes for Top]. We also get this called back later in the ep when Mew tells Ray to quit drugs and Ray says sure, and I have to wonder how many times that exchange has happened and if it's partly why Mew is suspicious of Top's "easy" change. Also interesting that Mew seems to be one of the only people in this friend group who has two parents (his moms) that care about him and who also have a good relationship with each other. Mew's point that he doesn't need fulfillment from a relationship because he gets it from his friends and family is interesting; especially given his friends. [Sidenote: This is basically how I feel about my own life so I am curious how other people read this assertion.] The ephemeral change of sleeping around and doing drugs vs the physical and permanent change of Lasik is really standing out to me this scene as significant.

Second scene: the meeting with the professor. It's interesting that even though they're presenting, they're the ones sitting down. Cheum says they can keep personal and professional lives separate and Ray turns to stare directly at Boston. I love that this is even before anyone else knew that the Boston/Top hookup was at the soft launch party for the hostel. Also noting Cheum's catty comment about even Boston helping; this girl is so much messier than people give her credit for [just saw @lurkingshan 's breakdown of this episode as I continue to update this post and yessssss call her out!!]

Third scene: noodles. This is I think the same place they planned the soft launch party. I'm seeing parallels with everyone pressuring Boston to date Nick to everyone pressuring Mew to sleep with Top in the first ep. Also, interesting that Cheum promises to behave this time [and then definitely doesn't]. We've all (or at least I have) been wondering where April is and now we get some explanation. I do wish they'd established this as more of a pattern for Cheum to complain like this, but I'll take it as setup now. The way Ray and his seething is invisible in this scene has been covered beautifully here [by @poetry-protest-pornography and @respectthepetty ].

Fourth scene: Ton and Nick wakeboarding. The parallels here to Top/Mew are twofold: we get the similar sitting by the water parallel from earlier this episode, in which there is a clear undercurrent of hypocrisy between what the characters are saying and what the audience knows about them (that conversation with/about Gap was so good, with the tension in Nick knowing he still has that audio clip and still hasn't deleted it as Boston berates Gap for the same thing), and then there is the contrasting parallel to when Mew took Top wakeboarding for the first time with the rest of his friend group. In contrast, Ton took Nick here alone, clearly still trying to play this game of not dating Nick but doing things with him that they would do if they were dating, that send extremely mixed signals. This scene again underscores the fragility of the relationship Boston and Nick have and how easily it can be broken.

Fifth scene: The hospital. Sand and his mom, in which we see how used he is to taking care of someone who is a bit of a mess [affectionate], and how he can still only be somewhat honest with his mom about his relationship with Ray (more than we'd expect between a 20something and their mom, but less than we the audience know is the truth--they're just having fun but it's not what he wants). And then the confrontation between Top and Sand. Top characterizes his relationship with Mew as "I get what I want" and I have to wonder how much of that is posturing to annoy Sand and how much of it is honesty. I did also think that maybe he meant it when he said "I hope you get what you want soon" because he wants Ray's attention away from Mew.

Sixth scene [start of part 2]: Sand intentionally drops and stomps on his phone to have an excuse to borrow Nick's so he can steal the sex audio. This is the first time that Sand consciously does something shitty to one of his friends, and I am living for it--let good characters make bad decisions! The parallel here is of course to Boston getting his phone fixed by Nick and having Nick steal his photo and adding one of his own from the beginning of the series; also a small one of Sand using his mom as an excuse to lie to his friend, the way Top used his dad as an excuse to lie to Mew the night he slept with Boston [not a comparison Sand would like, which is why I enjoy it]. I love that we see Nick get worried at the end of this scene because he's a phone tech and of course would know to check what Sand did with his phone.

Seventh scene: Top taking care of Mew after Lasik; this is maybe the least tense scene between Mew and Top, and the fact that Mew can barely see and is drugged for it is on point. I do also like that Top isn't great at caretaking but he is trying. This scene reminds me of Mew taking care of Ray and vice versa, especially the latter when Ray kisses Mew while he's sleeping and how that's contrasted with Top (Mew's boyfriend) only kissing Mew's forehead when he realizes he's asleep. The sketches that Top does are also really interesting, and how they hit Mew later is even more fascinating. The conversation they have in which Mew establishes that this is all happening right after they've had penetrative sex for the first time (so not long after ep 5) and makes clear he's still nervous about his performance and then credits Boston for their relationship, setting everything up for later, is just so good, it underscores the importance Mew has been putting on his virginity and sets the betrayal up to hit harder. I love how Top pushes back on giving Ton credit for their relationship here because it makes him so uncomfortable.

Eighth scene: Sand calls Ray out to play the stolen clip for him. This feels like a parallel to Boston calling Top out to play the video of Mew and Ray kissing. Other folks [ @xceanlynx and @respectthepetty linked here] have pointed out that in this scene Sand is choosing his hatred of Top over his potential relationship with Ray here, which I don't disagree with, but also what occurred to me here because of this parallel is the similarity in that both Sand and Boston seem to be motivated by their jealousy of Mew in these scenes too. I also just can't stop thinking about how wild it is that everyone recognizes Top and Ton by their sex noises alone.

Ninth scene: Boston and Nick with Boston's dad. We finally get some background for Boston and he clarifies he's always been planning to bail on Thailand to go to New York. It's interesting that it's made explicit that if Boston fails he's more likely to go to New York sooner, especially after the warning their teacher gave about the hostel project and how we know it's Boston's drama that is threatening to blow that project up. Boston's conversation with his dad is a contrast with Sand and his mom earlier; while Sand sleeping around was not judged by his mom, she did warn him about his feelings, while Boston's dad seemed to celebrate his callousness. The way Boston continues to ask Nick to not be dramatic while stirring up constant drama in his own friend group, and his insistence that his relationship with Nick is special but not a relationship is really something. Also that this convo takes place in Boston's dark room, which gets called out later as one of his regular hookup locations, and where Nick first got suspicious about Boston and Top, is interesting, especially in the context of permanent physical photos vs digital recordings that you can't necessarily erase vs how gossamer thin their relationship security is, and how tied up in voyeurism all of these things are.

Tenth scene [start of part 3]: Ray confronts Boston at the hostel (blatantly running contrast to "we can keep personal and professional lives separate"). We see Boston nervous here when first being confronted before he decides what approach to take with Ray to keep his mouth shut (not for the first time; we saw him nervous in the showers when he first tried to get Top to have sex). Also, I just have to say, respect to Ray for going to Boston first to confirm it's true before deciding what to do with the clip.

Eleventh scene: the birthday party at Yo's bar. It's poetic that the start and end of the Mew/Top relationship is because of conversations at Yolo. Once again, the spectre of failing school [because of the project] comes up in Mew's birthday wish. Cheum immediately breaks her promise to be "good" and teases Boston about Nick. She also says "everyone is dating someone now", apparently forgetting entirely about Ray. This entire conversation was so passive aggressive and @lurkingshan 's post (linked above) breaks it down really well. I am fascinated by Mew's reaction to Top's gift; I hope we get more insight into that because he seemed legitimately shaken, and it didn't seem to be positive. Also highlighting that once again Boston is credited for their relationship (this time by Cheum), and both Boston and Top seem deeply uncomfortable with it but Top doesn't argue it this time.

Twelfth scene: Ray and Mew in the bathroom. I already mentioned Ray's promise to quit and how it parallels Top "quitting for Mew" at the start of the ep; Mew is expressing care for Ray here but in a way that is distant and frankly a bit callous (to say "you'll be dead by thirty" to a guy who was/is suicidal is not the smartest approach even if it isn't intentionally referencing that). He insists that Ray not drive home but doesn't take his keys or stay with him to make sure he does actually get a ride, which is admittedly a big ask on your own birthday but just indicates the intentional boundaries Mew tries to set with Ray about not caring too much, I think. I don't think this makes him a terrible person, but it makes him not a great friend. This is in contrast to Sand, who stayed with Ray and made sure he would not drive before he even knew him, and followed him at the end of this ep to make sure he would not hurt himself or someone else even after Ray pushed him away.

Cursed thirteenth scene: Ray blows everything up [ shoutout to @liyazaki for this perfect post]. First, the same song is playing as the silent disco, calling back how Top's fate was sealed before Mew and Top had even gotten very far. And then once again, Sand's band is interrupted so that someone can take the mic, just as Top did when he asked out Mew for the first time. Mew calls out Cheum and April for their less than perfect relationship despite what it seems on the surface and more specifically calls out Cheum for being a bit of an asshole actually, mentions that Boston is a gossip about his hookups (which is not actually something we've seen evidence of, and I'm interested in how true it is), tells Nick he's not special, tries to explain to Mew that he (Ray) is not who Boston thinks he is and didn't share the clip with Mew to get him for himself [only knowable on rewatch of course]. Cheum finally admits that she fully knew Ray was in love with Mew this whole time and has just been ignoring it/pretending not to [vindication!!] and accuses Mew of exactly what he was trying to deny. Top finally acts his nastiest self in front of Mew, putting his arm around Mew's shoulder and claiming ownership for the second time this party in Ray's face (first time was when Yo joked that she wanted to go out with Mew now that the glasses were gone). Sand can't get Ray to stop, and Ray tries to shame Sand needing money by implying he should have sex with Ray for money. Ray goes after Boston, and Mew can't get Ray to shut up either so he hits him (even knowing why Ray is acting like this; and that's my favourite part of this entire episode, that Mew has decided he wants his moment to confront Top his way, once again using sex to control his feelings--this time to make him humiliated rather than fall in love--and he's willing to punch his friend to get his moment, and I am obsessed).

Fourteen: Only Sand goes after Ray, once again the only one actively trying to stop him from killing himself or someone else on the road. Sand snaps and yells at Ray to pay attention to him, Ray's "what are we to each other?" comes off as desperate rather than accusing, which I love--the question of what they are to one another has come up so many times and neither is willing to admit they want to be more first. Ray again calls Sand a whore this time explicitly, and drives off. Sand follows Ray. This is a beautiful parallel to the first time Sand took Ray home. Like every other couple scene this episode, the tenuousness of their connection is highlighted and even threatened in this scene, but Sand doubles down.

Fifteen: April and Cheum finally have a scene. They reconcile, but (like all of the couples) it feels tenuous. April asks that Cheum not lie to her just to avoid conflict, and Cheum promises to do that--but I am fully expecting this to not last. Since we know Cheum knew Ray was in love with Mew this whole time, it's confirmed that her lying or just glossing over reality to keep things easy is her personality not just something she does with her girlfriend's films.

Sixteen: the scene that we've all been waiting for. This was such a good fake-out, and it's the start of Mew's unhinged era he promised us all at the start of Top's pursuit of Mew. The way he set the stage, prepared a script, and as best I can figure out, TIMED A REMIX OF THE SEX AUDIO TO HIS SEDUCTION is absolutely sending me. Being more sexually confident, initiating sex and holding Top down, and making sure he could see Top's face when he realized what was happening, whew boy what a set-up. I am thinking about how much of that was him wanting Top to feel tricked and violated the way he felt tricked and violated. I also love Mew jumping to the conclusion that Boston and Top planned this and were laughing at him because that's a) indicative of something Mew would do, clearly; b) totally something people think when they're embarrassed, they assume everyone else knows and is laughing at them; c) not totally wrong because Boston did make fun of Mew's lack of experience to Top (shoutout to the YouTube comments for the reminder).

And that last sentence of the episode deserves its own paragraph because it just so perfectly encapsulates exactly where Mew went wrong in his thinking from the start: "I wasn't good enough for you to love only me"... As though other people's behaviour is controlled by your goodness and earned through your own behaviour. As though love and sex are value judgments. As though the world is fair. As though goodness is an objective judgment that allows you to control the people around you. This thinking is so harmful and so pervasive. It's really a sign of Mew's desperate need to be in control (in this version of events, even Top having sex with Boston is actually Mew's doing, which means in theory Mew could prevent it from happening again if he betters himself). And it confirms what we all suspected Mew's been trying to do this whole time: Manipulate Top into changing into a "better person" [read: monogamous and drug-free] through his own behaviour.

I also noticed that almost every camera shot in this entire episode was close faces and there was a lot of hand-held camera work. Intimacy, instability, lack of clarity, all of these things were coming through the way it was shot.

Ahdhsh tumblr keeps eating parts of this so I'm going to stop. But whew this episode just gave and gave!!

@ranchthoughts @slayerkitty @wen-kexing-apologist @neuroticbookworm @waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @distant-screaming @chickenstrangers @clara-maybe-ontheroad

Tagging the ephemerality squad because if any of you pick up on any of these threads and parallels and tie them into your meta I want to know about it! Tumblr is showing me only like half of what people are posting these days and unfollowing people without my consent so pls tag me

[iamthecomet]

Rain leg worship in stockings perhaps? 👉👈

UH HUH. UHHH HUH!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS.

almost 1.9k of Rain teasing Mountain and Mountain not being able to resist. Some mention of Mountain's appreciation of feet, but nothing too intense.

Mountain can’t stop looking. No matter how many times he raises his eyes back up to his book they trail back down, over blurring words to the stocking clad feet pressed into his lap and the long legs attached to them.

They’re warm Rain had offered when Mountain asked him about the stockings.. He thought about pushing a little harder–getting a real answer. Reminding Rain that pants are even warmer. That there are blankets. That Mountain isn’t stupid and he knows just how little insulation sheer stockings give. Not like he’s never worn them before. 

He doesn’t say any of it though, because as soon as the words started to build up behind his teeth Rain was dragging his big toe down the seam of Mountain’s jeans. Pressing the warm pads of his toes against the soft swell of his cock. 

And those words were gone. Dried up. Rain was settled into his spot on the couch by then, book open, body leaned back against the arm. 

“Do you like it?,” Rain asks absently and Mountain drags his eyes away from his lap, from the delicate arch of Rain’s feet and the way his toes curl. It takes Mountain a second to realize that Rain is asking about the book, not the feet on his dick. Rain suggested it so Mountain’s been reading it. He looks at the pages again, words swimming. Blood rushing south. 

Mountain clears his throat. “Uh–yeah. I really do.” 

It isn’t a lie, even though right now he can’t recall a single thing about it. He hasn’t turned the page since Rain sat down. All of the characters suddenly seem unfamiliar, English does too. 

Mountain wonders if the stockings are as soft as they look. Or are they the material that gets caught in his callouses, tugs on his skin uncomfortably? He bets they’re silky though. Rain has high standards.. He longs to touch, to find out. To run his finger over the arch of Rain’s foot to make it flex. Up over his calf, behind his knee. Over the soft swell of his calf and under that over-sized shirt that just barely covers everything else of interest. He wonders if Rain’s wearing underwear. If he’s chubbing up. Cock straining against the thin fabric. He wants to glide his hands up, bunch that shirt up around Rain’s waist. Wants to touch. 

“Good. I thought you would.” Rain says, unaffected. “I know you’re not always into fantasy but the characters feel real enough that I thought you’d be into it. I really like Vin.” 

“Me too,” Mountain says softly, absently, eyes drawn back down. He’s fully  hard now, or almost there. Pressing up against the curve of Rain’s foot. Rain knows–has to. Especially with the way he keeps moving, dragging his foot up and down. Rubbing Mountain through his jeans. And Mountain shouldn’t fall for it. He knows his game. Knows every single one of Rain’s games really. Coy, and sly, and always acting unbothered, ignorant. Making  Mountain desperate while he yawns and reads his book and acts bored and talks about the characters like Mountain can think further than the way his cock is twitching against Rain’s toes. 

Mountain’s hot. Sweat pricking at his hairline despite the winter chill. He wants to see Rain’s face. Wants him to lower the book and look at him. Even if he’s faced with disinterest it would be better than this. It takes all of his effort not to rock up against Rain’s foot. To just give in. 

“You ok, Mount?” Rain asks, finally lowering the book just enough for Mountain to see his eyes, cerulean and shrewd. “You seem distracted.” 

Mountain closes his book, tosses it on the coffee table. “Wonder why.” 

Mountain can’t see the way Rain’s mouth quirks up, but he knows him well enough to know it does. He sees it in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners. Knows it by how Rain presses a little harder, rubs a little more deliberately. Mountain digs his teeth into his cheek and fights a gasp, a groan. Fights the urge to hump Rain’s foot and make a mess. 

He’s got his eyes on Rain’s legs now. There’s something about the stockings that make Rain’s shape more obvious. Lithe and muscular. Mountain wants to drag his tongue over the curves. Taste nylon and sweat under his tongue. To bend down and press his lips to the side of Rain’s knee. Hook his teeth into those stockings and pull until they give.

He reaches down and drags his finger over the arch of Rain’s foot, watches it curl in on itself. Watches muscles jump beneath the sheer tights. Sees Rain’s thighs shift, clench. Watches that shudder run all the way through his body. Sees the subtle roll of Rain’s hips against nothing. Doesn’t miss the way a violet blush creeps over his cheeks. 

It’s too much. 

Mountain leans over, grabs Rain’s book. When he tosses it onto the table it misses. Rain makes a noise of protest that Mountain swallows when he presses their mouths together. Hands, finally, finally, sliding up over his legs. 

The fabric is impossibly smooth, buttery beneath his hands. He licks into Rain’s mouth and Rain arches him into him, gasping, mouth opening wider, hips canting up toward Mountain as his fingers climb higher. Over the side of his knee to grab a handful of Rain’s thigh. Flesh dimpling in as Mountain grabs hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck. Mount–hangon. You’re gonna rip them.” 

Mountain eases up as he pulls away, nipping at Rain’s lip just enough to sting. Pressing their horns together. Boxing Rain into the corner of the couch. He dips his head. Grazing fangs over Rain’s jaw, his pulse. The water ghoul gasps beneath him, shuddering as Mountain’s hands slip higher, under the hem of the t-shirt. Thumbs resting in the juncture of his thighs. Feeling the heat pooled there. Smelling salt and sweat and petrichor as he buries his nose in Rain’s collarbone. 

“Stay,” Mountain orders. Rain doesn’t respond, doesn’t nod. But when Mountain pulls away Rain seems to melt further into the couch. Eyes lidded as he watches Mountain lean back into his previous spot. Bracketed by Rain’s legs now, one foot on either side of his hips. 

He curls one big hand around Rain’s ankle. Feeling fine, delicate bones beneath his fingers. Dragging the pads of them over his ankle bone. He lifts Rain’s leg, braces one pretty foot against his shoulder so that when he turns his head his breath fans out over Rain’s leg. 

The nylon has a smell. Chemicals. Not wholly pleasant, but Mountain drags his nose along it anyway. Inhaling as he leans a little further forward. Tongue darting out to taste the plasticine of the tights mingling with Rain’s skin. Mouthing along his calf, up to his knee. Lapping at the crease there.

Rain gasps, head thumping back against the arm of the couch. He throws his arm over his eyes, the other hand digs into the couch. Fingers digging into the plush green cushion for all he’s worth. Mountain watches his knuckles turn white. 

Mountain takes his time. Laving wet spots over the stockings. Sucking marks onto Rain’s thighs through them. Careful not to tear, not to bite. Not yet. Before long he’s laid out between Rain’s legs. Both thighs slung over Mountain’s shoulders. Both of Rain’s hands curled around Mountain’s horns. Holding on tight as Mountain nudges the hem of his t-shirt up higher and higher. Rucking it up over Rain’s hips.

“No underwear?” Mountain rumbles, bending down to nose along the stiff line of Rain’s cock, held tight to his body by the stockings, but hard nonetheless. Curving up toward the waistband. The thin fabric clinging to the head where Rain’s been leaking. 

Rain opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a startled whine when Mountain sucks at the head of his cock. Dragging damp salty fabric into his mouth. Pressing his tongue to the slit. Feeling Rain kick and leak into his mouth. 

“Pretty,” Mountain whispers against Rain’s bulge. Dragging his mouth down the shaft. Bringing a hand up to cup his balls, roll them through his hand. 

“Take it out,” Rain whispers, pleads. “ ‘s too tight.” 

“Does it hurt?” Mountain asks. He presses the flat of his tongue over Rain’s cock. Tasting pre and nylon. Rain’s cock pulses against his tongue. Spits another glob of pre into the stockings that Mountain greedily laps up. Humming as Rain moans. His fingers dig painfully into Mountain’s hair. “Yes. Satanas, Mount. Yes, it hurts. Please. Please.” 

Mountain purrs. Nuzzling his nose against Rain’s twitching cock. Breathing in the scent of Rain’s desperation. He hooks one fang into the stockings. Feels the way they give way beneath his teeth. Splitting the stockings just to the side of Rain’s cock. Dragging them open with his mouth until his lips press against warm, velvet soft skin with no barrier. 

The noise it drags from Rain makes Mountain’s cock kick and spit in his jeans.  Rain’s cock springs free. And Mountain pounces, sucking the head into his mouth. Laving his tongue along the sensitive underside. 

Rain hiccups, breath catching as his hips roll up into Mountain’s mouth. Unable to stop himself now. Cock sliding deeper and deeper into Mountain’s mouth with each little hump. 

“Thank you,” Rain breathes, relieved and pained in the same breath. Leaking like a faucet onto Mountain’s tongue. “Thankyou thankyou–oh—” 

Mountain digs his fingers into Rain’s thigh again, feels his fingers punch through the tights. The fabric running, laddering beneath his fingers and down Rain’s legs. He takes Rain deep, presses his nose to the soft hair at the base of his cock. Allows Rain to hold him there and fuck into his throat. Toes curling against Mountain’s back, still stocking clad. 

“Close,” Rain warns, Mountain just purrs. He slides his hands from Rain’s balls further back to circle his hole. Finding him slick and fluttering. He presses just the tip of his finger in and Rain keens. Rolling his hips to take the digit deeper, to fuck further into Mountain’s throat. 

Rain cums with a broken whine. Hips stuttering. Spilling thick down Mountain’s throat. Body sucking Mountain’s finger in deeper and deeper as he twitches. Clenching and fluttering as Mountain swallows him down. 

Mountain pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to the head. Rain hisses and the sound makes Mountain throb. He presses his finger deeper, slides another in alongside. Rain makes a gut punched noise, a devastated sound even as he grinds down on Mountain’s fingers. Looking for more despite his softening cock. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” Mountain whispers. Reaching down to palm himself. Ignored cock still painfully hard. 

Rain nods, frantically, dark curls falling into his face. He pushes himself up enough to hook his fingers into the waistband of the stockings, intent to pull them down. Mountain grabs his wrist with his free hand, stops him just as he starts to slip them down. When the other he pushes in deep, pets against a spot that has Rain’s eyes rolling back in his head, body going boneless against the couch. 

“No,” Mountain says, firm. “Leave them on. Let me fuck you through them.” 

[magicalyaku]

Hello and welcome to my 2023 reading wrap up! A big Thank You to everyone who followed my ramblings throughout the year! <3 I will continue through 2024. Maybe I'll learn how to write proper reviews, at least I'll try to remember better what I actually want to say about the stories. In 2022, I read 93 books plus my own. Guess how many it were in 2023? 93 plus my own!! xD That was huge coincidence and I love it. Of these 94 books, 4 are rereads (which won't be included in the "Favourite" sections), 2 are non-fiction, 11 are non-queer. I only DNFed 1 book (which is not pictured) and other than that I only disliked 6 books! (And it's a pretty soft dislike in comparison. I don't hate them nearly enough to want to shit on them again. :'D).

So on the the awards!

Most Read Author: KJ Charles (8 books)

Least Favourite Book: Daresh (Katja Brandis) (the one I could not finish for dear life)

Favourite Character: Brand (The Tarot Sequence) and Will (The Will Darling Adventures) (yes, there's a trend)

Favourite Covers (of books I read, not releases):

(There were too many. D:)

Highest Emotional Investment (aka The Agony, the suffering, the why you do this to me Award): Dark Heir - The Scottish Boy - In Memoriam

Wildest Story: The Adventures of Pinocchio

Favourite Books:

The Devil's Luck (L.S. Baird)

The Scottish Boy (Alex de Campi)

In Memoriam (Alice Winn)

Just Lizzie (Karen Wilfried)

Dark Heir (C.S. Pacat)

The Will Darling Adventures (KJ Charles)

Gwen & Art are not in Love (Lex Croucher)

The Buried and the Bound (Rochelle Hassan)

More Books I enjoyed greatly:

Oracle of Senders series (Mere Joyce)

Of Feathers and Thorns (Kit Vincent)

Wren Martin Ruins it all (Amanda deWitt)

Simon Snow series (Rainbow Rowell)

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley (Shaun David Hutchinson)

The Tarot Sequence (K.D. Edwards)

The First and Last Adventure of Kit Sawyer (S.E. Harmon)

Sixteen Souls (Rosie Talbot)

By any Other Name (Erin Cotter)

The High King's Golden Tongue (Megan Derr) and more!!

Most Used Name: I counted names last year and didn't want to do it again this year because I read so much fantasy, so the names were all over. Still, there was one who stood out amongst them all with at least 4 instances, if not more. Probably more.

Will

Congratulations. I have to admit, I've always liked that name. My favourite character of all times and part of my one and only OTP is named Will as well and I kinda hope the last book of their second trilogy never comes because it will probably make me scream and ... ...

Bonus! This year, I counted pages! Because I felt that most books were much shorter than what I read before. So I wanted to know. Turns out, my feeling was wrong. My 93 books had a whole of 33011 pages which results in approximately 350 pages per book. That's pretty normal I dare say.

That's it for 2023! I had a very good year in books. I wanted to read less actually, and failed spectacularly because I had too much fun. And if anyone's wondering how I read so much, I read fast and I just didn't do anything else in my free time. Escapism to the max. I hope, the new year treats you well! I hope, you have fun with the books you read! Let's meet again soon! <3