#and despite the fact i either forget to water them or forget i already watered them!

[bludraws094]

do i have a horrible track record when it comes to taking care of plants? yep!

am i buying a potted rose plant anyways? yep!

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part ii)

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.

author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.

content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry

word count —11k

PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)

The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your mother’s voice as you approach the doorstep of the Miller’s home. It’s fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.

Cut it out. 

Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundays—starched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots. 

The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldn’t hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.

Once inside, you’re already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, there’s a creak to your left and a voice you hadn’t heard since the night before, under…more nefarious pretenses. But, he didn’t know that. You shouldn’t either.

Your eyes can’t meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesn’t speak to you, but he does look you over. There’s a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.

“She’ll come with,” You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joel’s tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, “I don’t need her being a nuisance while Joel’s trying to sleep.”

“She lives here,” Tommy points out, “I’m sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?”

“No,” you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, “I’d really rather not, if that’s okay.”

Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before he’s cracking a joke at Joel’s expense, who still hadn’t spoken a word.

“Keep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,” Tommy jests.

“Well, we’ll be out until the evening,” your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasn’t nearly the case, in fact—it was a heavy weight off your chest, “so call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.”

“She’ll be alright,” Joel interjects suddenly, “ain’t never caused any problems with me.”

Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, she’s dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.

The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silence—girl, always testin’ me—it was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.

You had to cut the cord—this wasn’t you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, he’d lied for you when he didn’t have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be. 

Joel clears his throat, “I’m gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and I’m barely standin’ right now,” Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, “you gonna be alright?”

You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like now—say it, just apologize.

“Joel,” you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, “I—you lied for me to my mother, you didn’t have to and I’m…sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I—”

There’s a flickering of guilt across his own face that you’re familiar with, knowing he’s dreamt of you in the exact ways you’ve suggested and while he doesn’t audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.

“No harm done,” He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you don’t react, neither does he, “no sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?”

“Right,” you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, “just…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies assuredly, knowing he’d done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situation—but just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.

Save your own ass and all that.

It didn’t matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.

Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.

-

There’s only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joel’s home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, you’re restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.

There’s a few reclining lawn chairs on Joel’s back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didn’t matter. 

You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.

It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that weren’t possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other things—like him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.

You knew you weren’t going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldn’t bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her now—in due time, you think. 

Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor. 

But even then, you don’t move.

You know it’s Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you. 

He doesn’t say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and he’s only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.

“Was I being too loud?”

Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of  ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, “No. Wasn’t you.”

Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.

“Just my back,” you explain, “I can’t reach it. Well—I can, but I’m definitely missing some spots.”

Joel’s fingers curl around the bottle but he doesn’t pull and your fingers haven’t left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration. 

“Joel, it isn’t a trick,” you promise, “besides, with your hands it’ll take like, two seconds.”

He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” You beg, “It’s sunscreen, get over it.”

There it was. The snark you couldn’t hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.

Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. He’s pathetic and he knows it. 

He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldn’t be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine. 

You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before he’s tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.

A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before they’re back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.

“You’re tense, kid,” Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.

“With a mother like mine, wouldn’t you be?”

Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.

He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.

“Can’t stand getting a little messy, can you?” You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.

What a little shit. 

His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.

The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgotten—it couldn’t be that simple.

Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.

But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.

Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.

There it was—his eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way. 

Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired. 

It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozy—you turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.

He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie—wondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.

But instead, you hide.

Decisive and calculated, you’d wait him out.

Like meek prey, he’d seek you out if the hunger struck. 

—

After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinner—you couldn’t speak to Joel, wouldn’t. 

He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.

Sort of.

It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.

 But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your mother’s lips as she ate.

“She wasn’t feeling too good,” Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, “I can bring her a plate up later, after I clean up—”

“Oh, please,” She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, “we’ll clean up, won’t we?”

Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless. 

Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.

Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon. 

He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before he’s yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.

Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before they’re flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.

Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. He’s changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.

Relaxed. He looks…relaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and he’s still standing, waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

“I’ll eat it later,” you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, “I will, I promise—“

You weren’t lying, you would. 

But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too. 

Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, you’re sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didn’t seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.

“Don’t apologize,” you began before he could get the words out, “god—don’t, just…”

“I was gonna ask if you’re feelin’ alright,” Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.

You nod lazily, “How was dinner?”

He knows you’re not asking about the food.

“Typical,” He responds lightly, “your mom loves carryin’ the conversation, doesn’t she?”

“She just enjoys the sound of her own voice.”

Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.

“Got all the sunscreen off finally,” You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joel’s mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, “did you enjoy your shower?”

Joel quirks his brow, curious.

Right, he didn’t know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.

“You know, was it…peaceful? Nice?” 

No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlier—and felt it just the same.

His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.

He was losing his mind, surely.

He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have sat down. 

But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.

“I lied for you, again,” He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, “makin’ habit of it, it seems.”

A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, “You were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?”

His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, “You know I never meant it like that—“

“Didn’t you?” You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.

Our secret, alright?

It was the gateway—one small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature. 

“Why are you still here?” There’s a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joel’s hard-headed. 

So, he retaliates.

“Why haven’t you asked me to leave?” His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.

The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you can’t force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.

You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesn’t stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, “You’ve been drinking,” it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, “haven’t you?”

“That bother you?” He wonders—he’s mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, he’s just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.

A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joel’s neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him. 

It doesn’t even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.

“Giving you what you want,” Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, “—s’what you wanted, right?”

You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.

At the notion, his hands are in two different directions—one hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until they’re finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until he’s back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.

He’s not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didn’t shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.

Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.

“Shh,” He reminds you, a soft command, “don’t need them gettin’ curious.”

You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, “Mo—More,” You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before they’re breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.

“Take it off,” He demands, “wanna see those pretty tits, darlin’.”

Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legs—

God, he’s going to hell.

And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, he’s got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips. 

It’s intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. He’s speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. They’re goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you can’t commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.

Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, “Touch yourself,” He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before you’re squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.

He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasn’t catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.

The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on him—back to reality.

“How’s that for a mess?” Joel doesn’t miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.

You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, “Eat your damn dinner,” He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.

“No problem,” You appease him, “and a suggestion—”

Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you aren’t amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.

“Double check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.”

Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.

Joel’s flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel’s never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable. 

–

Breakfast is quiet.

Too quiet.

You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.

“I was thinking we could do something in town today,” She begins, “all of us—Joel, too. Tommy mentioned they’ve got a fair going on downtown—food, music, plenty to keep you interested.”

You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, “What’s the occasion? Big news? Don’t tell me your pregnant—”

Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, “That is not—no, I’m not. But, Tommy and I…may have put an offer down on a house, if you’re that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.”

You shake your head nonchalantly, “Joel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns over—I forgot to ask, but you don’t care, right?”

Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.

“I mean, I’ll be with Joel,” You remind her, “I’ll be safe, won’t I?”

Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joel’s surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.

“I shoulda mentioned it,” He lies through his teeth, “slipped my mind, but it’s alright with you?”

She swallows. Tense. 

Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brother’s shoulder.

“History of cowboys?” He asks, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Let ‘em go, they can always meet up with us after.”

She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brother’s with a cynical regard, catching Joel’s tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.

 It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joel’s walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.

With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but you’re stopped by Joel’s foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.

“You make plans for somethin’ I’m unaware of?” 

You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before you’re climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.

His touch is intimate—and warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then he’s inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.

But, like a fragile tower—the moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.

“Stop,” he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, “you—we can’t keep doin’ this, kid.”

“No one’s here,” you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesn’t budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, “if you worried about getting caught.”

“I know you’re doing this to get back at your mother,” Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.

“And if I was doing this for me?” You counter, “Because I want to? What would you say then?”

There’s a long beat of silence, Joel’s hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.

“Naive,” He offers, “childish—downright stupid, if you think about it. I’m twice your age and if the other reason wasn’t obvious, well—“

“We’re not blood related,” you argue, “it isn’t nearly the same thing and you know it.”

You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant. 

“Besides, I think you’ve ruined all other men for me,” You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, “your fingers—Joel, they’re—“

At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

“I’m not the one, darlin’. You can’t compare me to them—I’m old, I’ve lived. Don’t think you gotta settle for me.”

Joel has sequestered himself to loneliness—after his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone. 

Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, he’s found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.

He didn’t regret you—his actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.

But you’re sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that look—more, give me more.

Nothing would satiate that hunger.

“I’m not a virgin, you know,” you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, “I think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid I’d turn out like her.”

Luckily, you hadn’t. She’d never let you live that down.

You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joel’s throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, “Do you wanna ruin me, Joel?”

All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.

It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.

“Upstairs,” he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, “in your room, now.”

The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you weren’t going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.

-

He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as he’s stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasn’t wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didn’t stray too far again.

“Should I say my morning prayers?” You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, “Absolve you of some guilt?”

“It ain’t guilt,” Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, “you really think all that prayin’ actually works?”

You shrug, “I dunno what I think anymore—what do you believe in, Joel?”

Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.

“Ain’t never believe in nothing,” He responds quieter, “easier that way.”

You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving you—wandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.

“Come on, Joel,” You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, “Easier?”

“You’re brainwashed,” He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, “can’t think for yourself without feelin’ guilt, can you?”

He’s making a mockery of the beliefs you’ve been under for years—you get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just—” Your voice wavers as Joel’s attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, “ and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousn—”

A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.

A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.

“Ain’t gonna listen to that shit,” Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, “—you done?”

You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.

“There’s no savin’ yourself from this, sweetheart,” Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow through—that you wanted this.

“I know,” You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.

Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.

His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, “Go on,” Joel taunts, “keep prayin’.”

Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighter—you make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.

“Don’t try and convince me you believe that shit,” Joel tells you, “not when you’re beggin’ me to fuck you like this—’ve never been a saint, either.”

Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didn’t belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man who’s challenged every belief you’ve ever known.

He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.

“Just this time,” He promises you, “no more teasin’, or lying—”

The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that you’ve learned his weakness.

Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.

“Another secret?” You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow who’s always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joel’s hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.

You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way you’ve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering. 

He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as he’d like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.

A shower would work for now, though. 

Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.

-

There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to light—your mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down. 

It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.

And he, of course, couldn’t even follow through with his own promise to himself.

Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesn’t always seem like…Joel.

He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you aren’t buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when you’re both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.

He doesn’t seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.

It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then he’s seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.

But, he does sense your hesitancy.

“I’ll go,” He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, “if you want me to.”

You’ve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you don’t pry.

“No, no,” You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you just—you seem tired.”

It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesn’t touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. He’d come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldn’t be ignored.

“Just sleep here,” You suggest, “I’ll wake you early, before they’re up.”

Without protest, he nods.

You can’t explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something you’ve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.

–

“Hey, kiddo,” Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before you’re gone for another week, “school treatin’ you alright?”

“It’s fine,” You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, “how’s mom?”

Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, “Stressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya know—“

“Yeah,” It’s lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, “uh, can I ask a question, actually?”

Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house. 

“Is…Joel okay?” 

Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.

“Oh, he…usually gets…worse around the anniversary of Sarah’s death,” Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, “shit—we ain’t mentioned her to you?”

You shake your head.

“She died about five years ago, raisin’ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dying…it’s been hard.”

“His daughter?”

He had a daughter.

I’m old, I’ve lived, the words echoing in your head.

“He…never mentioned her, you’ve never…”

“He won’t,” Tommy tells you, “can’t even bring her up to him most days—I thought I’d mentioned it to you but it must’ve slipped my mind, I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, “I guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.”

And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.

Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, he’s always been aware of his brother’s…problem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.

In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.

“Have a good week,” He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, “—you should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.”

Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before he’s interrupted by another shout from your mother, “I can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you aren’t able read through it until later that night, Joel’s unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.

It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feet—but more importantly it was an escape. 

You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but he’s sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months he’s been around you both. 

You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith. 

The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.

“Didn’t say goodbye this morning,” Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.

You’re quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.

“Sorry…my mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didn’t…she’s hard to be around anymore.”

“I’m just messin’ with you, kid,” He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.

“Are they home?”

“Left about an hour ago, they’re movin’ stuff into the house, I guess? I don’t know,” Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then there’s a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.

Joel hears your lips part on the other end, “It’s been a long day,” It was the first time he’s outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.

“Tommy told me,” You blurt in frustration, “about her.”

“Listen, I don’t need you judgin’ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as is—“

“I’m not…I wasn’t,” You respond, confused, “I just, I wish you’d mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to me…but—”

Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.

“I got my own baggage, ain’t no sense dragging you into that,” Joel defends, “not with all you have going on.”

“If you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,”

It silences him effectively, “I’m not a child. I’m not your child. I’m an adult—“

“Where is this comin’ from? I’ve never said that—“

“I don’t know,” You sigh in exasperation, “It’s been a long day, Joel. I’m gonna head to bed, okay?”

You don’t wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclear—you haven’t prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.

They’ll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, you’re just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.

-

The week drags and you’d much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.

“Are we celebrating early?” You look at your mother, who’s birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but she’s quickly shaking her head.

“It’s Joel’s birthday, honey.”

“Oh,” Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, “Happy Birthday?”

Joel hates the attention, clearly. 

The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brother’s birthday, but it doesn’t dissipate the underlying frustration.

And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside him—four beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.

Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when you’re home, giving you a gentle hug that you haven’t felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before he’s searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.

It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home you’ve grown comfortable in.

“You’re quiet,” Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.

“And you’re drunk,” You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.

“Believe it ‘r not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,” Joel responds, “I’ve been cuttin’ back, I don’t need you tellin’ me what I can handle. You’re young, you wouldn’t understand anyways.”

“Guess so,” You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun set—and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.

There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and he’d let you down easily, but he wasn’t always that strong—a weak man with temptation dangling in his face. He’s always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.

But, you’re feeling vindictive tonight—upset and angry at yourself, angry at Joel—no, frustrated. 

And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joel’s eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

He’s always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doors—that in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesn’t stop you.

Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.

You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him. 

You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his knees—or so he’s told you. 

Or, you seduce him here.

He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, “I’m leaving, after the wedding,” Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, “I got an offer for an internship.”

“Well..that’s good, ain’t it?”

His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldn’t make you feel good, but it does. You shouldn’t want this, but you craved it.

“No, like—I’m leaving that night. To Dallas.” A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“Do you want to?” Joel asks.

You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, “No, I don’t. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, but—”

“Tommy knows?”

You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, “Yes, he does. He snooped and read the letter—he’s known I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while.”

“I didn’t think you two talked that much,” Joel replies honestly.

“We don’t, not always,” You admit, “not with my mom around—and he told me, about your drinking problem.”

Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.

“I just—this isn’t…like, it isn’t also because of that, right?” You ask, “Does drinking make you feel less guilty about it?”

You know it isn’t the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets you’ve been trying to keep.

“There’s no guilt,” It was the most confident you’ve heard Joel to be…ever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, “We’re adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this can’t work.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.

“If they weren’t together—if your brother wasn’t going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?”

“I don’t know,” Joel answers, unsure.

You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.

“I think you do,” You mumble against his mouth, “I also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.”

Joel can’t find the words to respond, feeling like you’ve seen straight through him.

“So, let me help a little more,” You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.

You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that they’re out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each other’s mouth.

“Quiet,” He reminds you, “we have to be quiet.”

Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.

“Says you,” You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, “I like hearing how bad you want it,”

Joel’s hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.

He’s got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.

Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neck—he’s never seen you without it.

He thinks for a moment, considering his action before he’s reaching to tuck it behind your head.

But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before you’re reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.

“It’s okay,” You can sense Joel’s confusion, worry— “I’m starting to figure things out for myself,” It’s intimate, the way you’re talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “besides…the things I want you to do to me, it’s blasphemy, really.”

Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.

It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleading—he’s right there and you can see it.

His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer. 

Rich, you think. Maybe you’ve been worshiping wrong your entire life.

Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. It’s quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each other’s skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.

“Staying or going?” He asks after you’ve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.

“Depends,” Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, “your room or mine?”

Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.

–

Joel’s dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirt—his shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.

You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.

“So, when do we have the talk?” You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.

“Not tonight, if you don’t want to.”

Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.

“I was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,” You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, “It’s…silly, I know. But, I think it might help. I’m doubting—well, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.”

“That really what you want?” Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, “It ain’t because of me, is it?”

“I think I’ve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. I’m telling you because—I don’t know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I don’t chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.”

Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.

“I…also think you should get some help,” You add gently, “talk to someone about Sarah—doesn’t have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks you’ll blow up on him. You’re…you’re an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.”

Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasn’t a horrible sign, so you continue.

“She hid it really well, you…not so much.”

“So, holdin’ each other accountable then, huh?” Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.

“I can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to me—the sex is…good,” You pause, considering your words, “really…really fucking good, but I think we’re using it to avoid things.”

“Think you can fix me?” Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, “Sweetheart, I’ve been broken for a long time.”

“Mend,” You emphasize, “you can heal—so can I. I think we both owe it to ourselves”

His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.

“I think we do, sweetheart.”

I’ll try, for you—he thinks silently but doesn’t say. It doesn’t matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work. 

But, for you, he’d try.

[romihearts]

married life ! ┊ft. nene, aoi, akane, teru

synopsis. married life with them.

content. fluff, gn reader, intended lowercase

her notes. can mokkes be used as a pillow

— yashiro nene

married life would be quite calm and relaxing.

housework is split 50/50 but if you or her is very tired from work one of you would offer to do the other's chores for a bit

even the simplest things like the two of you cooking together makes your heart skip a beat !

the two of you have a pet hamster by nene's request :3

if the two of you aren't busy, she'd plan small dates around the town or city you reside in.

the dates would commonly consist of looking at cute appliances, furniture and whatnot.

grocery shopping is quite a hard thing because most of the time the two of you end up with a few of the things you planned to buy and the rest consist of junk food

either way, married life with her is really comforting : ) she'd always be there for you like you'd be there for her

the early morning light entered through your shared home, illuminating you and your beloved in bed, you awake while nene was still asleep.

you cherished moments like these, the warmth and comfort felt around made you feel so safe. even having her beside you is already enough for your heart. not to mention how cute she looks. despite her sayings that there are better people out there, she forgets that you chose her, and she chose you.

you felt so lucky to have her.

— akane aoi ; m

married life with him would be busy yet fun!

in terms of housework, it's 50/50 aswell on mosy occasions but he'd really prefer to do the job for you! especially if you're tired from work.

he'd be the type to wake up earlier than you to cook you breakfast :3 and i feel like he's not really a morning person but he feels better if it's you he's waking up for.

another hc is that he commonly listens to jazz or classical music, and when he plays it out loud while both of you are cleaning you two would end up dancing : )

for dates, he prefers them the typical way. a romantic dinner, a walk on the dock at night, etc. despite it being generic, he'll always enjoy any second he spends with his significant other.

if the two of you go shopping, he becomes very strict and acts like your babysitter TT he wouldn't allow any things that aren't planned to be bought. althoouugh,, if you bat your eyelashes at him, tilt your head, and ask in the most polite way, he reluctantly allow to let you buy something.

it was 8:57 pm, and the sound of water running and dishes clashing were the only thing to be heard at the moment. you and akane had just finished eating dinner and you offered to do the dishes considering he already ran the rest of the errands earlier.

until, akane caught you off guard by wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. it was uncommon for akane to do this, yet it still continues to surprise you. "kane, im doing the dishes, you can hug me later." you giggle out yet he just tightens his hold around you.

"but i want to hug you now." akane said nonchalantly. accepting it, you continue with the dishes while your beloved was embracing you.

— aoi akane ; f

married life with her would be fulfilling.

despite the fact that she's popular and whatnot, i feel she'd prefer a secluded and comforting life

for housework, she'd offer to do all of the chores but of course, you need to help aswell so she reluctantly lets you TT

she'd be the type to buy you flowers !! and with this, your house would probably be filled with flowers too

in the privacy of your home, she lets herself unwind and confide in you, without anyone else's expectation of her : )

she'd like cuddling too! just the two of you on the couch, close to eachother while simply watching a movie makes her happy

for dates, i feel like she'd enjoy on of those craft studios, specifically pottery making! even though its quite cliché, she likes it when you're behind her, helping her through the pottery process too >< oh and she'd definitely love dates to the zoo aswell !! especially if she's with you,she likes admiring the animals : )

she's kinda lenient with letting you put whatever you want in the shopping cart when you two are going grocery shopping, but she's the type to secretly put them back too 😭

"thank you for the date, [name]." aoi said, the two of your were walking around the zoo whilst talking about each other's day and jobs. "it's no problem aoi, i love being with you, really." you responded while aoi blushes a bit a your statement.

"well, for this date, i'd like to treat you to!" aoi beamed. "how about some ice cream? what flavor do you want?" she continued to ask despite you really insisting its fine. but, you faltered against her, seeing her focused face makes youe heart melt and you eventually let her treat you.

"thank you for the ice cream too, aoi" you said, while the both of you continued chatting with your ice creams.

— teru minamoto

married life with him would be chaotic but fun.

teru's good on almost all aspect of housework! except cooking.

he'd try to cook you breakfast but he fails at even cracking the eggs TT for some reason the eggs exploded when he tried cracking them???

another time, he tried baking and the cookies came out burnt and charred.. and incredibly salty too..

after those times, you forbid him from the kitchen.

he'd be clingy, super clingy. if he comes home exhausted from exorcist work, he'd only want to have you in his embrace and won't let you go until for a few hours.

he'd be super romantic when it comes to dates. literally giving you a bouquet full of roses and asking you out for dinner. with the tuxedo suit too.

grocery shopping with him is a 50/50. most of the times you get what you need and only that. but the other half, you two end up getting unnecessary things TT

a loud bang could be heard from the kitchen, it was early in the morning and you noticed your lover out of bed. you could have only guessed what happened. you immediately got out of bed and headed to your shared kitchen, seeing your husband's focused and beautiful face on.. charred eggs?

"ah, [name] you're finally awake!" teru said, his eyes lighting up once he saw you. "i made you breakfast, do you want some?" he asked as you stepped forward to him, taking a look at his work. it was, unidentifiable? you guessed that the beige colored whatever the shape was pancakes..? the look on his face and the food he made was really contradictory.

despite that, you offered to cook breakfast instead. even if your husband can't cook, that doesn't take away from the fact you love him.

[kingconia]

Hellooo I'M kinda asking for angstyy but Imaginee Gn reader does a break up prank on the Dormleaders 😶‼️(idk if this was already done??)

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WHEN THEIR S/O IS TRYING TO PRANK THEM BY BREAKING UP

cw: Of course, some angst ensues.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— Riddle is having a hard time with understanding even common humour, so, of course, he has not a single idea what is going on;

— He takes your words very seriously, to the point you can see his eyes watering slightly as he turns away from you;

— An instant regret! That is too much, you realise. An attempt to fix everything apparently goes even worse. Riddle is glad that you are not breaking up, but he is clearly offended by what you had done.

•

”I am so, so sorry,” you murmur, taking his cold hands in yours. ”I didn't think that—”

”You didn't think at all,” Riddle cuts you, voice despite being cold, wavering slightly. ”It seems like you don't respect my feelings enough, do you? Someone, who loves you wouldn't do that.”

It is hard not to feel ashamed already, but the way Riddle speaks, yielding his words as swords, hurt even more. You know of his streak to be more passive aggressive when he feels offended, so you are not surprised. But it still unpleasant to hear.

”No, I do,” you kiss his knuckles softly, looking straight in his eyes. ”I will make up for you, alright?”

Riddle nods, but an expression on his face is a gloom one. It definitely will take some time to deserve his forgiveness.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Leona takes some time to process what he had heard. He is fighting the urge to say that it must be a joke, but your acting is too realistic, so he trusts you with being honest;

— Leona is tired from this urge to fight for love and acceptance, when others get it so easily. So, he is not planning to talk with you about all of it; he will merely give up. And despite his heart aching painfully at your words, Leona will only shrug it off. He doesn't want you to he aware of his true feelings;

— When you stop him by telling that it is a joke, Leona feels something between a relief and irritation. He tries not to show it, too—it will only make you understand that he, in fact, was hurt by yours words. But he fails anyway.

•

”Stupid,” Leona spats out, turning his head away from you.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, either trying to keep him out from leaving or comforting him like this. In retrospection, you can see how cruel your joke was—Leona is a neglected kid, and, perhaps, you overdone yourself by triggering it.

”I am sorry once again, and...” Your eyes widen. ”L-leona, are you crying?”

”Like fuck I am,” he denies right away, a free hand coming to rub his eyes. ”Fuck off.”

Now, you feel even worse. It is rare to see Leona so vulnerable, after all.

”Oh, Leona,” you murmur, crashing in him with a hug. ”Please, I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear...”

And that is how you settle with agreement—Leona forgets your poor idea of a prank, and you pretend that you had never seen him crying. It works for both of you well, surprisingly. And, at least, he is not mad at you.

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Azul is panicking as soon as he hears your speech, but he will never show it to you. Instead, he bluffs, saying that you will not do that;

— When you ask him why he thinks that, Azul very nervously tries to prove you that you love him, mentioning all of your recent actions and words addressed to him;

— He only relaxes, when you offer him a smile, nodding at his words, explaining how it was a popular joke on the internet. And, let me tell you this, Azul had never been so happy of being correct.

•

”You are too smart for your own good,” you sigh, sitting down on his lap, a light pout appearing on your face. ”How I supposed to prank you, when you are like this?”

Azul wraps arms around your waist, hiding face in your shoulder blades. As a deep sigh leaves his lips, you are suddenly feel like something is really wrong with him.

”Hey... You okay?”

Azul raises his head for a second, so he can kiss your bare nape, but then again, falls into same position. His answer is rather a reluctant one.

”I am just tired after lessons, that's it.”

”Ah, sorry... I probably took your time with my stupid jokes.”

”That's fine, angelfish.”

You definitely sleep better in the nights with not knowing that you are the one, who exhausted Azul today...

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Just as Riddle, Kalim is a little bit dense when it comes to pranks, so your breaking up suggestion is treated with absolute seriousness;

— Kalim is speechless for a few moments, and when he finally gains ability to speak again, he merely asks if he wronged you somehow, if he hurt you;

— He looks so lost, so genuinely concerned, that you are rushing to say him that it is a prank. However, Jamil is quicker.

•

”Ah, excuse me?” Kalim scratches his head, looking between you and Jamil, who suddenly materialised in the room, almost out of nowhere.

”It is a prank that runs around school,” Jalim says, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. ”They are not breaking up with you. It is a joke.”

”That's right,” you nod eagerly, watching at Kalim with an unhidden regret. ”Sorry, Kalim.”

His eyes instantly flare with relief and happiness as he smiles widely at you. He is clearly not mad. If anything, he is in high spirits!

”Ha! I see! Then, let's break up, Y/n!” Kalim winks at you radiantly.

You smile in return, ignoring annoyed look on Jamil's face. It is good to know that Kalim had some fun out of it, too.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Vil is a very mature person, so he naturally treats your break up with him with an utter respect. And, he tries to talk out everything with you;

— He sats you down, brings some water, and offers to tell him your reasonings to do so. Is it his tight schedule? Is he neglecting you? Do you feel like something is wrong? Or, perhaps, you have a mental health problems? Talk with him! Even if your decision is final, Vil is still your friend. He wants to be aware of your feelings;

— When you are telling him the truth, Vil is annoyed. He is genuinely worried about you all the time, can't you not worsen it, potato?

•

”You are telling me, that I was frowning a five minutes over nothing,” Vil deadpans tiredly, folding arms on his chest.

You smile awkwardly, and move forward to smooth a wrinkle between his brows.

”First of all, you still do that,” Vil tries to relax his face instantly. ”And, second of all... Sorry. But you handled it so well, so I don't feel that bad.”

Vil rolls his eyes, and as he catches you hand in both of his, he kisses it softly. You blush under his closer look. Now, that's unfair.

”...But I am glad that you are still mine,” he murmurs quietly.

”What did you say?”

”I am not going to repeat myself,” he snaps.

You laugh quietly at how annoyed he looks.

You don't consider a prank to be a failure. More like another proof that you had chosen a perfect lover to yourself!

Idia Shroud. 💙

— I am quite sure that no one will agree with me on this one, but... Idia tries this prank on you faster. Yes, I think he can be quite mischievous when he feels safe enough, and, he is the kid of the internet just as you, so...

— You stare at him all the time as he ”breaks up” with you, and the fact that you planned to do this prank just today, makes every even worse;

— When you explain to him that you know it is a prank, and you were meaning to do the same, Idia can't help but laugh quietly. It is, indeed, stupid.

•

”That is just ridiculous,” you murmur, hiding face in your hands.

Idia puts his chin on the top of your head, arms wrapping around your stomach as he hums.

”Geniuses are always sharing the same unique thoughts.”

”Yes,” you glare at him. ”And idiots, too. So, what it makes us?”

Idia lowers his eyes as well, exchanging amused looks with you. Smiling crookedly, he offers a good compromise.

”Soulmates?”

And, well, he is not wrong.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— Just like Riddle, Malleus knows nothing about pranks of this sorts, so he assumes that you are genuinely breaking up with him;

— An instant regret x2. There is so much sorrow in his eyes! Much like Leona, he doesn't want to be seen emotional, let alone pathetic, so he mutters incoherent apologises and scrambles to leave the room;

— Gladly, you trap him in hug faster, yelling that it is just a joke. Malleus, however, has a very mixed feelings about this one...

•

”I... See,” Malleus averts an eye contact desperately as he examines the floor. ”I apologise for not understanding it earlier.”

You sigh, feeling shame creeping on you for such an awful and disrespectful attitude. After all, you know how Malleus is mostly unaware about all humanly stuff.

”No, no... It is me, who should apologise!” Your lips are shutting in a thin line. ”Would you accept it? That is not a mistake I will repeat, I swear.”

Malleus is quick to look at you again, probably sensing a deep regret in your words. Very carefully, he smiles at you.

”Of course,” he kisses you on the forehead hastily. ”I am not mad at you, child of men.”

Ah. You are so lucky that Malleus loves you this much. Yet, it is clear as day that it will take some time to assure him that you love him, after all...

[yurnu]

I'm really happy that you see Lucifer the way I do. The way I see it, Lucifer thought he knew better than anyone else, and despite the warnings, he still did what he wanted because he thought he was smarter than everyone else. All because he wanted to play God.

I guess I'm just tired of people saying, " 'uwu' poor baby. Heaven didn't deserve you!" And the book talking about the Fall of Lucifer and Lilith, where they are seen as the victims who did nothing wrong, I just sigh. Because I find it so hard to believe that they didn't do *anything* wrong. Like, really? You sure that's just not, I don't know, a watered-down version to make your parents look good Charlie?

And I do see Charlie as someone who is naive in the worst way. Like, if you want me to sympathize with you, how about NOT going to the Cannibals and asking them to help fight Heaven? You don't SEE anything wrong with that? At all? Or are you just looking through your rose-tinted glasses because you were sheltered?

How was Adam "controlling" when they had no concept of anything? They hadn't had the fruit of knowledge, so they had no concept of evil. How...how was Adam the bad guy in Eden? All I can see is Lilith bored with her lot in life, Adam completely happy and oblivious, and Lucifer who coveted someone else's wife. And he didn't just stop there. No. No. No. He took Eve too.

He doomed humanity to sin and evil, had Adam and Eve cursed and thrown into the wild with no way to know how to survive, and then had the gall to say, "Humanity is a mess. I gave them free will and look what they did with it." Like it wasn't your fault for giving it to them in the first place! No wonder Adam hates you! Because you cursed his family to know what pain feels like for the rest of their lives!

And they just WASTED Adam's potential but I've ranted enough.

That's what I dislike about the HH fandom, they always make Lucifer out to be a poor pathetic little man who wanted to do something good But no dude! Lucifer is the main reason for human decay and the main reason for Adam's suffering! But that's a fact that almost everyone tends to forget since it would make him look bad to your baby.

I feel that Charlie is quite hypocritical and stupidDoes she really want to take her sinners to heaven after having killed a large number of angels with the cannibals to devour their bodies and after having killed the first man? Is there something wrong with this chick's head or what?

Obviously that book at the beginning of the series was made by Lilith to make her and Lucifer look good in the eyes of her daughter, they are the good guys in the story, not the evil heaven where the innocents go after dying at the hands of the sinners she supposedly loves so much.

Adam was a bloody character with quite a bit of potential to exploit, from his tragic history, his love for Eve, his constant ups and downs in his life since the expulsion from Eden and possibly seeing the reason why he came to the conclusion why extermination was the answer to overpopulation. But it was obvious that it would either reveal Lucifer and Lilith's incompetence to lead their kingdom or show how wrong Charlie was about redemption.

But let's just say Viv doesn't want that, she wants her baby Charlie to be the one who shines in the show and the one who is right about everything.

I just hope that in the second season they shut my mouth and show a plot twist that will leave our asses twisted, but knowing who is running the show and already having watched HB and seeing how it turned into a cheap soap opera, I doubt that will happen.

[httpiastri]

currently thinking about clement novalak railing me while I wear a flowy summer sundress, the sea breeze coming in through the window (the entire thing obvs being as sweet an playful and intimate and romantic as possible) 🫣 I AM SO IN MY FEELS RN

aaaAaaAaA this... this made me so....... 😶 no because i've been thinking about him every second all day today and now my cousin is in my room bcs she's staying over but i still HAD to write something

also i started writing at maybe 1am? and then i got stuck looking at pictures and videos of him so this took way too long... currently 4am but my energy is 📈

18+ content below the cut, minors do not interact, thank you!

you loved going on vacations with clement.

you hadn't been to france before, so to have your sweet boyfriend along with you to show you around the cities where he used to go for trips when he was still a little boy was more than you could ever ask for.

your mornings are spent drinking coffee and having breakfasts at cute coffee shops, with clement reading you the french newspapers as you both pretend like you understand what he's saying, holding hands and going through your plans for the day. your days are spent sightseeing, jumping from museums to art galleries to tourist spots, not forgetting to stop by and buy souvenirs for your friends back home. and your nights are spent in the fanciest restaurants, the ones only locals know about, the ones with the best wine and the best cuisine.

this particular night has been spent just like that – possibly with an emphasis on the good wine-part.

you're both tipsy, but not full-on drunk, once you stumble in through the door to your hotel room. your bodies are already clinging to each other and he's placing playful kisses down your neck as he kicks the door closed with his heel.

the hotel is a cozy building owned by a really cute elderly couple, thankfully not overly crowded despite the fact that it's located right by the ocean and yet within walking distance of the city. you must've gotten the best room in the building, because the view of the sun setting over the water is to die for.

not that either of you are thinking about the sunset right now.

your hands reach up to his shoulders, trying to push him away from you to look at him, but his hold on your waist is strong. instead, you settle for leading him towards the bed as his lips move to explore the skin of your collarbones.

this time when you push at his shoulders, he gets the hint and sits down on the edge of the bed. he looks up at you, eyes hazy but smiling as they meet yours. his hands are still holding onto you, and they usher you to come near and close the gap between you.

your hands come up to hold his face in them, thumbs stroking his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him. clement helps you sit down on his lap, moving his lips against yours and tilting his head to gain better access. his arms sneak past and around your waist to pull you closer, dragging you against his already hardening member. his actions elicit a whine from your mouth and he uses the opportunity to let his tongue slip past your now open lips.

your head is spinning already, and you don't think it's purely because of the wine. when one of his hands reaches under the material of your dress, going up your thigh inch by inch, you pull away from the kiss. "clem..." your forehead leans against his, your eyes closed and breath heavy against his face.

"yeah?" he answers, hand reaching further up, stopping right before your underwear before going down again.

"just... please..." you can't find a way to form your sentences, your brain too busy focusing on the feeling of his skin against your own.

his thumb drags along the edge of your panties. "tell me what you want me to do to you, love." he pulls his head away from yours, putting on a small smile at the sight of your already so lustful expression. "i want to hear you say it."

your eyes flutter open as a grin – or, as much of a grin as you can muster in your current state – spreads over your lips. "clement novalak," you start, tilting your head. "are you trying to make me beg?"

"maybe." he pauses for a moment, his own grin growing by the second. "are you going to?"

a laugh escapes from your mouth as you shake your head, lacing your lips with his again. "you're unbelievable," you mumble against him.

clement has no problem flipping you over, laying you down against the sheets before climbing on top of you. taking off your dress is too much of a hassle, he thinks, so he doesn't bother. he's memorized every inch of your body anyway – he could probably draw you like one of his french girls just from memory – so piling it up by your hips is good enough.

he helps you out of your underwear and then pulls his white linen pants off and his boxers along with them. before he throws them away, he gets his wallet out from the back pocket, pulling out a condom. "see? i told you this was a good spot," he says, tugging off the packaging with a content look on his face.

you roll your eyes at him. "sure. now, just hurry up, will you?"

he laughs at your response, and you can't help but join him. once the condom is on, one of his hands reach to take one of yours in it, intertwining your fingers as he positions himself above you. he connects your lips for what feels like the millionth time of the day, making sure you show off no sign of hesitation before he slowly pushes into you.

the sunset casts a pink hue over the room and when it lands on your bodies, it illustrates an artwork much more beautiful than any of the paintings you'd seen on your trips to the museums these last few days. the waves crashing against the beach right outside the window, combined with the quick breaths and quiet moans flowing from your mouth, is like music to clement's ears as he continues making you feel good. your eyes are hooded as you watch him, your mind completely clouded with lust. he's all you can see, all you can feel, all you can think of; it's all him. and you wouldn't want to have it any other way.

[minhio22]

uhh can I order the Zinnia flower for hajun yeon?) plss and hii I recently discovered your blog and I already like it ^u^)/

Zinnia - confessing how much they are missing you

Actually wrote this yesterday right after i finished that other shiki oneshot like the insane person i am instead of sleeping eventho i have like classes tomorrow but i hope u enjoy it took me a while CAUSE LIKE IT WAS SO HARD TO THINK OF WHAT STORYLINE WOULD MAKE HAJUN CONFESS THAT RKDBDKJD but i enjoyed writing it fr. Slight angst maybe? Also enjoy ur stay at my kinda half dead blog where i yap about stuff 🫶

You were packing your luggage. Clothes, toiletries, some snacks and your favourite stuffed animals. You were busy either trying to play tetris with it or just doing the art of stuffing everything inside as long as it fits while Hajun was leaning against the door frame of your bedroom watching you as you packed. He had came by earlier saying he needed to grab something that he forgotten to take with him the last time he was at your place but in reality he felt unsettled that you were leaving the country. Not that you were leaving for good. It was the school holidays so you being an international student at the international private university the two of you go to only make sense that you would return home during these times.

It tugged at his heart strings as he saw you pack, he didn't want you to go. To him it felt like he was being left alone again, tossed aside after his use was done but he knew you didn't think of him like that. You never would. You were too kind for that sort of thing. When you first told him that you were planning to go back, his face fell a bit but it was so slight that even you who has managed to see thorough him from time to time didn't pick it up. Despite however reluctant he was, he still upgraded your ticket to first class behind your back due to the fact you wouldn't let him buy your plane ticket back.

“Is there something you need Hajun?” You had just noticed him leaning against your doorframe as he stared at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Of course I did. I have a great memory you know?” Hajun had put on his usual smile masking the fact that he was going to miss you dearly and that he didn't actually leave anything behind last time.

“Oh? But you forgot it here the last time?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hajun just chuckled. “What if I said it was because I wanted an excuse to come and see you alone?” He smirked.

At that you turned your head back to your luggage flushing slightly at his slightly florty remarks.

“Oh? Are you blushing now?”

“W-what?! No of course not!” You stuttered out. Ah the kind of reaction he manages to get out of you. “Oh by the way could you help water my plants while I'm gone?”

“Should I let them shrivel and die instead?” Hajun teased as he noticed that you left your bag of face care products on your bedside table. He picked it up and tapped it gently on your cheek.

You glanced up at him noticing that you had forgotten to pack it up and you gently took it from him. “You wouldn't dare let them die. Right?” You looked up at his eyes which just held a mischievous glint.

“I'm just joking with you. I'll water them for my precious partner.”

When it was time to send you off, all the members of BAE were there. You were talking with Anne as they hugged you and told you lots of stuff. After you were done talking with Anne and Allen, Hajun accompanied you to the security gate. The two of you walking in silence, you not knowing what to say to him. The two of you were holding hands as you walked, his grip firm and steady and his demeanour confident as usual as if his heart wasn't racing at the fact he has to part with you.

It was when the two of you stopped near the security gate that he finally said something. “Take care okay?” His gentle squeeze of your hand makes you melt a bit.

“I'll be gone for just two weeks okay? And don't forget to water my plants, Hajun.”

Hajun seemed amused at the fact that you just had to remind him about your plants but it's not like he would purposely not water them and let them die.

“I will, so don't worry.” He pecked your cheek wanting to give you a kiss on the lips instead but he held himself back.

You didn't expect that. You didn't expect him to do that. It felt so weird that you had trouble thinking a bit but he just ushered you saying that you're going to be late if you don't get a move on. You gave his hand one last squeeze before you left to pass the gates leaving Hajun to his own thoughts.

The two weeks felt quite fast for you but to Hajun it felt like time was dragging itself. You called and texted him often when you're not busy with your family or the friends you had back there. Back in Japan, Hajun was doing what he usually does, model, prepare for stage battles with BAE and the such. There were times he missed you so much that the calls and text didn't do much. He would never admit to it. It took an even heavier toll on him when he gets his trap reactions after performances.

It started like it usually would, in his house back in Korea with his parents telling him how he was unneeded after his half brother, Dongha was born. How he was later sent to Japan to make ‘networks’, how even until now these memories still haunt him. Even more when the trap reaction added the thought of you leaving him for another better man, how you would leave him after he had no value. During times like these Hajun would hold close the plushie that you left in his room, desperate for comfort in any form. He would never tell anyone though, this was between him and god.

The day you came back, it was already quite late at night and BAE had just finished a performance when Hajun had come to fetch you in that limousine of his. People at the airport were staring but you were too tired to tell Hajun off about it. You just sat side by side, shoulders touching. You were slightly worried about Hajun getting a trap reaction and at first you had denied for him to come pick you up but he was adamant. In the end he won and here you were. You leaned your head against his shoulder, taking in the comfort his presence brought to you after being away for so long. Hajun just let you be, none of his smarty remarks coming to bite you this time. Instead he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. He could tell that his trao reaction wasn't far from happening but he wanted to come pick you up. To make sure you really didn't leave him behind.

You had decided to stay over at BAE’s shared apartment that night. You had changed and all the luggage you brought sat in a corner of Hajun’s room as you laid in bed next to him. His breathing was heavy, and you knew it was going to be a long night. Hajun, always so attractive, looked even more attractive to you when his tinted glasses were off. His face bare to you but you knew now wasn't a good time to be thinking about that as his grip on you got tighter, the symptoms of his trap reaction taking place. He would rarely let you see him like this, only some rare occasions where it got so bad that he had to confide in you.

And every time it never fails to pain you how someone as confident and strong as Hajun could be reduced to something like this just from the phantometal’s reaction. The memory of that one ti-

“Y/n.” His words came out so soft but so pained that you snapped out of your thoughts as you looked at him. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing shallow and his grip on you tight. You know compared to the others Hajun had a better time at keeping it in check, suppressing it but it still hurt all the same to see him in this state.

“Don't leave me.” Were the words that shocked you. You didn't expect him to say that but you guessed it made sense with what he had been through. You just pulled him closer as you mumbled out how you weren't going to, how the thought had never passed in your mind.

It took a while of coaxing and reassurances to get Hajun to calm down back to normal. By then you were nodding off, barely able to stay awake anymore. Hajun who had just managed to get through the night once again saw your eyes drooping as he rubbed your back soothingly, trying to get you to just succumb to sleep knowing you needed it just as much as he does.

“Hajun… I missed you…” You mumbled out sleepily. It wasn't clear if you had intended to say that to him but he heard it all the well.

Hajun let his guard down even more to you that night as he whispered out to you that he had missed you too, the words that his ego wouldn't let him say when you're fully awake but maybe someday. Hajun wasn't sure if you would remember but if you did you would probably think it as a dream but he was fine with it.

“I missed you.” Hajun whispered right next to your ear, his breath hitting your ear gently as he continued to lull you to sleep.

[melodiclune]

Boo!!! Have a curse on ye!!!

To breakth the spell, name thou mutuals and what you like about them!!!

(not all of them. Minimum 5)

Melmel do you hate me. What if I forget someone. They're gonna hate me forever. I'm literally going to go through my mutuals list and have to do this. FEAR. PLEASE I DON'T MEAN TO FORGET ANYONE I SWEAR I LIKE ALL OF YOU OR ELSE WE WOULDN'T BE MUTUALS

1. Marigolds Buddies, 2. Discord Gang, 3. Blue Lock Gang

1. @noname-nonartist Hi you're the menace to society and thorn in my side (affectionate) for the past three years. Your art is stunning and you're an awesome person to talk to and it's always a chill great time when I get to brainrot with you over ShuAke. Even if I'm not into Project Sekai it's hilarious seeing how into it you are and I'm happy for you

@himi-wiz Do I really need to tell you what I like about you? You already know my heart inside out, there's really not much else to say. I love you to the moon and back. Drink water, Fool.

@sunflowerswithtea MY TEA BUDDY you're the best friend I've had in our academic suffering together. I'm so proud of you, you never give up and try your hardest in everything. You're one of the actual nicest people I know :> I love waking up to your absolute spam of texts on discord even if we don't share the same fandoms atm! I know for a fact that you're going to drag me back into MLB with you though. FEAR.

2.

@rainingstorms1220 Total bean. Take care of yourself more. Your art is stunning, you have some amazing stories and I can't wait to see more of them. Despite all your downs you've never given up, always held your head high, and you're one of the most dedicated, passionate people I know. You're welcome for the hermitcraft brainrot <3 Love you lots Stormy

@chibihobbitlore MARIAAAA MY BELOVED Your art is inspirationally beautiful!! You're so positive every time I talk to you, one of the nicest people ever and it's always such a nice time hanging out with you. Bullying Elder with you is one of my favourite past times :DDDD You're not on Tumblr much but seeing you on discord always makes me go "!!! HI MARI ILY" hehehehe

@eldestofdragon You. You are most definitely not on Tumblr much, part of why I'm tagging you here. Little shit. You're witty, always pull a laugh out of me every time we talk, and I love hearing you ramble about your DnD campaigns and lore filled stories. You're not positive, but you're not negative either, which is right up my alley when I need someone to talk to. <3 I'll see you on discord later today! Worry less, sleep more.

@a-mel-tomelts Menace to society x2. Do I need to tell you too, why I love you? You're witty, happy, excitable and so passionate about the stuff you love. Despite your ups and downs every time I get to chat to you about our shared interests and experiences it's always a great time. Hange to my Levi, Sumi to my Akechi. Nothing else says it better! :D You already know why I love you, twat, ask me on discord if you want details again

3.

@someprettyname THE most chaotic person I know. Passionate, determined, steadfast, and really proud of what you stand for. It's really nice to see that. Every time I open tumblr and see like 30 texts in my message box I'm like "oh no, what's happened to nami this time," and no matter what I see, I like chatting with you when I get the chance <3 Seeing you in my notifs always makes me happy

@blue-thief I swear sometimes it's like we're telepathic with how often we have the same views on things. It's always great chatting chaos or media analysis with you. It's so easy to fall into conversation with you, and seeing you be so certain in your skin sometimes is honestly really nice. You care about your friends so much it's so wholesome. I hope your exam went okay!! I hope I can support you in any way you need from me :3 I'M STILL WAITING ON THAT ASK I SENT TO BE ANSWERED, BEN /j

@zendersenders Fellow Rinsagi enjoyer, again shares a lot of the same views as me so it's always a super fun conversation to have. Fanfic buddy, I have almost dragged you into Persona hell with me. Whenever I see you in my notifications it's like "oh hey, zender's here!! hi!! :DDDD" little dopamine hit. You're a total sweetheart. Except when you decide to terrorise me with Mel, then not so much smh

@galaxynajma Fellow birb enjoyer, has the same media taste as I do which is great to see on my dash, one of the most lovely people on this damned website. One of the rare other KaiSae enjoyers. Talking to Najma is like.. a peaceful chat on a picnic blanket, with a clear sky and cool lemonade in our hands. It's like a moment of reprieve amongst all the chaos of the Blue Lock community. I love these moments dearly :>

@getosugurusbangs Plushie Menace #1. A great person to talk to, even with all the chaos that you dump into my inbox lmao. One of the few people here that understands my Persona references!! I haven't interacted you with much outside of that, but the little interaction we've had has been absolutely lovely. We seem to have the same media taste again, although I'm not too surprised considering everything else hehehe. Your art is absolutely beautiful!! It has a uniquely Eli flavour to it that I always love seeing on my dash :D

I got Kitkat, Elle, and Chen on discord so that this post doesn't get ridiculously long 😭 I should've done the discord people on discord too but it's too late now I'm too far into this.

Good lord. I hope I haven't forgotten anyone? If I have, my deepest apologies, send me a DM or a reply or something and I'll reply immediately or else I will be a very very sad Lune

MEL YOU LITTLE SHIT JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL I POST THIS AND FINALLY LOG BACK ONTO DISCORD TO RIP INTO YOU ABOUT THIS

[voracious-tales]

{S x F} What Are Friends For? (CV; M/M)

It was another day for the spy of the west, Agent Twilight/Loid Forger. Like any regular person, he put his pants on one leg at a time alongside other fairly mundane traits. As with any living creature, whatever they drink would end up being excreted through his urethra. Earlier that day, he was throwing a stakeout on a plausible terrorist that threatened the peace between Ostania and Westalis. After drinking nothing but tea while stalking his target, Loid’s bladder began to ache.

He excused himself after the mission was completed and entered the men’s restroom. Despite being full enough to burst at the seam, he made it over to a urinal and unzipped his fly. Standing there, a gold stream of liquid rained down into the drain in a soft trickle. “Finally...”

The internal walls of the dam broke through as the water flowed out. While he did train himself to refrain from going to the restroom, it was still painstakingly agonizing. He was too preoccupied with himself that he did not hear the door open and someone park themselves beside him. The man undid his fly, but he was too close to comfort to the Westalian agent. In fact, whoever that was pissing in the same bowl. Loid, finishing up, noticed that he was seeing double dick.

“What the?”

He turned around and saw the visage of his friend Franky Franklin. Yes, how could he forget what the informant looked like? How could anyone not memorize Franky’s square face and round eyes? Or his thick-framed glasses and black suspenders? Loid looked back down noticing that Franky’s cock was around 6 ft and close enough to Loid’s schlong, they were touching.

“Uh, Franky...what are you doing?”

Franky laughed. “Oh, sorry. Just had to go.”

Loid grew suspicious. “And you did not notice I was using this urinal?”

Franky shrugged. “I guess not.”

Loid lightly backed away and fastened his fly. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to be heading out.”

Loid was looking away from Franky when he was saying this. If there were any events he wanted to forget, that was one of them. He would wash his hands, and then walk out. He and Franky would spend the rest of their day doing the most mundane of tasks, and they would not talk about what happened here. Or at least, that was what he was hoping.

“Oh, Loid,” Franky started still hovering over the urinal, “did I tell you the good news?”

Loid, washing scrubbing his palms with soap before rinsing, did not look back at his friend. “What good news?”

Franky beamed for a moment before speaking again. “I got a girlfriend!”

Loid looked up in surprise. He was very well-aware that Franky had an unsuccessful love life. Either the woman he was interested in had no mutual affection for him, or they were already taken. Often, Loid, being the good friend he was, would have to console him over drinks. Yet, he is now saying that he had a girlfriend? What kind of bizarro world was this?

“You...have a girlfriend?” Loid asked.

“Yeah, remember when we were at the bar getting drinks?”

Loid nods.

“I met one of the employees there and we hit it off well,” Franky explained, “turns out we had a lot of things in common.”

Loid tried to visualize the type of woman who would be interested in his bushy-haired friend. He did not want to accuse his friend of lying, but he could not see any woman ever legitimately showing interest towards him. Could it have been she was really after the man’s money? Loid’s eyes widened. Was it that kind of relationship that he wrongly believed his wife was being paid for? Regardless, Franky was his friend, so it was in his best interest to encourage him.

“Well, Franky, I never thought it had it in you. Congratulations.”

Franky smiled. “Thanks, buddy.”

Loid was in the process of drying his hands with a paper towel when Franky slowly approached him his pants reaching his ankles. “Actually, I need you to help me with something.”

“Hm, what is it?”

Franky, without warning, grabbed Loid at the back of the head and shoved him down. Loid’s head hovered over Frank’s pale head for a few moments. “Franky, what the hell are you doing?”

“Well, we had been dating a bit, so I think we are at the moment of our relationship where I wanted to whip this bad boy out. But... I think I need a little fuel to really rattle her insides around.”

“What do you mean? -”

Franky moaned and gently rubbed his glans with his other hand. Each moan caused his cock to grow and elongate. Loid attempted to lift his head, but the seemingly weak informant held a tight grip on him. Now roughly the size of a Doberman, Loid’s lips touched the slit of Franky’s glans before sliding past it. “Oh, yeah. Get all in there.”

The sounds of deafening sucking assaulted Loid’s ears almost blasting his ear drums. His head and neck became lodged in Franky’s tip with precum rubbing into every orifice and making his descent easier for Franky. The bespectacled-man rubbed up and down his shaft relishing in the fullness Loid’s head was making. Loid’s face pressed against the walls of his schlong creating a bulge against the taut skin.

Franky licked his lips. Somehow, he was tasting Loid without tasting him. The suction squeezed Loid’s shoulders into his slit cutting off the spy’s attempts at pulling himself out. He watched the bulge of his friend’s head slide down his “snake” and traced the path with his index finger. Loid’s head broke through an orifice and he was face-to-face with rubbery walls of Franky’s right nut.

Loid’s chest and waist fell victim to the rampant onslaughts of slurping squeezing through the tight passage. The Westalian agent could feel the precum sticking to his skin with Franky using it to his advantage to make his descent easier. Loid hit the bottom of Franky’s nut with the pooling cum smearing on his face and hair. He was temporarily blinded due to the heavy accumulation of cum gluing to his eyes. He tried to use the little space he had to move but the slight motion only elicited an aroused moan from the bespectacled man.

“Oh, look like I’ll be the first one to defeat Agent Twilight,” Franky bragged.

His cock shifted like a snake devouring an egg as if taking on a life of its own. It swayed back and forth to wrestle with pinching Loid’s hips into the slot. Each spasm made his shaft enlarge. He bucked his pale hips becoming overcome with lustful intent. “Ah, fuck yes.”

He rubbed his shaft with feverish delight assisting his monster hog in rubbing Loid further inside. Loid, naturally, kicked around aimlessly only stopping when he felt his groin rubbing against Franky’s rubbery walls. Frank arched his back and extended his hands to get a good grip of his dick. For someone as big as Loid, Franky was uncertain if he could pull this off, but he had spent a few weeks practicing with fruits, vegetables, and then small animals. Bugs, birds, even the occasional stray dog became reduced to baby batter.

Slurp, slurp, slurp. Pop.

Two slurps. Three slurps. Indents and curves of Loid’s body weighed heavily on the walls of his penis. His breathing slowed down as his lungs were constricted. Even if he could scream, he doubted anyone would hear him due to the audible sounds of Franky’s schlong slurping him. All that remained of the foreign spy were his long, toned legs. Franky slowed down the rate of the sucking for a little moment as he enjoyed how his friend’s muscles massaged his urethral walls. If he wasn’t too careful, he would have calmed then and there.

Slurp. Suck. Suck.

Loid’s legs sank into the lips of Franky’s head precum pooling from the sides. Probably to avoid how rough his shoes were, Franky removed Loid’s shoes and tossed them aside leaving ten wriggling toes at the mercy of his penis. Loid was forced into a tight ball with no leverage to grapple with. Franky’s glasses fogged over his breathing becoming hazy with sweat drenching his shirt. “Ah, that’s right...keep it up.”

Franky closed his eyes and gnashed his teeth together. With one final pull, Loid’s toes popped into his cock. The glans closed behind Loid causing his feet to bulge out in a crude, mishappen bulge that Franky followed with his fingers until he sensed them entering the orifice. His cock dwindled in size as his balls became engorged with the full weight of the Westalian spy.

“Ah! That hit the spot, thanks a lot for the help, Loid.”

Muffled yelling rang out from his balls clearly indicating that Loid was not amused. Franky laughed to himself. “Well, too bad. I’ll be digesting you now.”

The walls of Franky’s right nut started to collapse around the tight ball that was Agent Twilight. They squeezed into his body mixing some pre-made semen into his body to begin the melting process. His testicles tensed up before receding. Back and forth in a hypnotizing pace the walls would squeeze Loid before becoming lax. Loid’s clothes were the first thing to dissolve in the semen-filled chasm becoming more baby batter for the informant. Frank propped his back against the sink, his back turned from the mirror.

Loid squirmed and screamed with as much strength he could muster. He tried punching but his blows were weakening. His energy was waning fast. Franky rubbed some of the bulges with satisfaction. “Of all the ways you could have died, you weren’t expecting something like this, weren’t you?”

Franky wrapped his legs between his churning balls, enjoying the heat that radiated from them. “ Ooo , you are getting soft on me, Loid.”

During the digestion process, a heatwave washed over Loid’s disintegrating body. This must have been like for gingerbread men forming in an oven. The heat was unbearable and scorched Loid’s thinning skin. However, everything became slightly better for the spy. Since his pain receptors had melted off, all Loid had to do now was submit. Franky massaged his balls with his legs sensing them clench around Loid’s lifeless body. The more semen pumped in slowly transformed Loid’s body chemistry. The heart pumped cum until it completely dissolved. Loid’s lungs were destroyed. His brain broke down becoming nothing more than batter for the lecherous man. The walls kneaded and dissolved Loid down until he was an unrecognizable mass of cum.

Franky yawned and stretched his arms. His balls swayed back and forth sloshing the contents around. Sensing that his friend was no longer putting up a fight, he wrestled with his monster balls and somehow slipped them into his underwear. He heaved his pants around his engorged scrotum and redid his suspenders. “She’s gonna love this.”

[anamateurhumanbeing]

Finished Act 1 of Arcane's second season. It was alright. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but It definitely felt weaker than any of season 1's acts. But it was still overall good, and there's definitely a lot of interesting setup that has me excited for the rest of the season.

Spoiler-filled ramble below.

Caitlyn is becoming a full on villain. Using the vent systems designed by her mother to help the people of Zaun, as a weapon against them in order to avenge her, cold. And then there's the scene where she attempts to shoot Jinx despite Vi and Isha being in the way. Sure she wasn't trying to hurt either of them, but the fact is she still took that risk. And of course the ending, with her becoming the general under Ambessa's thumb. I love all of it. I thought Caitlyn was a pretty good character in Season 1, but her villain arc is far more interesting than anything she did last season, and the best part of this one. I hope she gets worse.

Ambessa's a pretty good character too. I called her staging the attack on the memorial, and I do love how ruthless she is but I am glad there is some nuance to her, as she clearly does miss her son and care for Mel. I can't wait to see more of her with Caitlyn.

What they're doing with Jinx is interesting. I like that she and Sevika have become allies, finding common ground after Silco's death. Her becoming a more heroic figure to the people of Zaun is a pretty interesting direction to take her after last season was more about her becoming a villain, especially as a parallel to Caitlyn becoming darker in her pursuit of Jinx. I need to see them have a 1 v 1 fight. I must confess though, I do not care much for the kid, and I think her jumping inbetween Vi and Jinx during their otherwise really great fight did not feel earned because of how little Jinx and Isha actually bonded. I am looking forward to seeing more though, and I hope Jinx is simultaneously a better and worse role-model than Silco. Oh yeah, the Silco water scene was beautiful.

All the stuff about Jayce, Ekko, Heimerdinger, Mel, and Viktor was all neat, but all of that was more setup, so I don't have many strong feelings on any of them. Nothing bad, but nothing great so far either. It was fun seeing Jayce and Ekko interact though.

And then there's Vi. This is where the act lost me. Going in I was already wondering how they were going to make Vi becoming an enforcer feel natural. The answer? They didn't! Vi changing her mind and becoming an enforcer felt like it happened way to soon. But I would have been fine with it if it was just Vi becoming an enforcer, it's her going along with Caitlyn's plan to literally gas the lanes that I cannot buy. I said I like Caitlyn going down that path, but Vi following her down it really doesn't make sense. Perhaps it would have made more sense if we actually saw how Vi felt about becoming an enforcer and attacking her home, but despite showing Vi's turmoil before becoming an enforcer, they forget to show her turmoil after becoming an enforcer.

I thought her relationship with Jinx was good. I was a little iffy on how easily she was ready to say she had no sister at first, but as the act progressed, it felt more like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Jinx or Caitlyn. Speaking of Vi and Caitlyn, will I get crucified if I say I don't like how CaitVi was handled? And I thought Vi becoming an enforcer was rushed, it felt like they just brushed by an entire seasons worth of development and drama with their relationship. I didn't really care about them falling out, because they literally became a couple at the start of the same episode. It is a real shame, because Vi was one of my favourite characters last season. While I certainly think they can still get Vi's character back on track, I am not sure how they'll make Caitlyn and Vi get back together, or if I even still want that.

Aside from maybe a few clumsy lines of dialogue, Vi really was the only weak link in the act, everything else was great. The music, the animation, the art, the fights, all just as good as Season 1, cannot wait for next week to get more.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Deadweight pt6? I'm really curious to see where it goes!

⚠️Probs some inaccurate bits of the show cuz I have the memory of a fish ⚠️

It seemed as of late that something was definitely odd with Grog. You tired to bury your worry concerning the sword possessing extremely dark magic strapped to the Goliath’s broad back; However you found yourself giving a rats arse about your groups well-beings.

Ever since snagging it in the aftermath of your fight with the Briarwoods, Grog had only seemed to become more and more secretive with the rest of vox machina about it’s dark benefits in exchange for the blood of enemy blood.

It also didn’t help that Grog has absolutely zero subtlety when it came to the matter either.

He grew paranoid, looking over his shoulder whenever the sword would speak to him so when your eyes did meet his one day, he stood so straight you almost thought he might’ve possibly broke his back with the force behind his change of posture before he would loudly exclaim;

“I’ve got to take a shit.” Before bolting off elsewhere.

“He’s acting rather…odd.” Pike said but decided to shrug it off as soon as she said the words, not wanting to think more of it despite it being the only thing on her mind currently.

“I’d suggest keeping a close eye on him Pike, that sword is bad news, it’s corrupting him.” You said, just about ready to move away after sparing your two cents on the matter, uncaring if your warning would go heeded as from here on out, the fault would be hers and hers alone. Only to be stopped when the Gnome cleric wanted to further the conversation. “What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have to explain everything to you Pike, need you forget whom that Sword once belonged to.” Was all you allowed yourself to say before leaving the Gnome for a more secluded area.

You took respite near a pound that laid in a clearing within the woods not too far off from you set up camp. You sat yourself down near the edge of the pond, watching as fish swam, tadpoles were growing into their next stages of evolution and water lilies blossomed forth from it’s watery cocoon like a newborn butterfly.

It was certainly what you needed right now as the visions has gotten more frequent and occurring whenever you dared to take up the risk of attempting any form of sleep. So as you leant forward to get a better look at a particularly beautifully scaled fish swim by, you caught sight of your reflection and found yourself feeling from the pond; Pressing yourself against a tree trunk as a hand clasped at your armour clad chest, whilst you tried to regain breath from seeing that decaying, zombie-ish form your face took whenever you looked at yourself in anything reflective.

“I’d thought I could deal with these shitty jump scares overtime but I guess the fuck not.” You hissed to no one in particular as you let your eyes closed for a second though not before having to force them open again when you heard the cawing of a raven from way above in the treetops.

The raven, once it knew it had your attention, cocked its head towards the direction of your camp sight and you knew that the time to move had already came. So with a forced bow, you said; “as you wish my lady, time is of the essence and none it shall be spent I assure you.” The raven seeming pleased with your answer, flew away, leaving you to regroup with the rest of vox machina.

“We’re close to the next vestige if our information is anything to go by.” Percy said once you joined his side. “Then why are still standing here like a bunch of twats?” You asked, doing a headcount of everyone before coming across the glaring fact that a certain Goliath has yet to return from taking a shit.

“Grog still hasn’t came back from his shit.” Percy confirmed your thoughts which made you chuckle at how someone as smart as him was so easily duped, which made the gunslinger raise a brow at you. “I warned Pike about that damn sword, if you want to know why I find his excuse less then convincing, go ask her. I ain’t your damn parrot.” You said before adding in that you were going to go pack up your stuff for the travel. Percy could only sigh, running his hands down his face.

Soon enough you and the rest of vox machina made your way to the location of your next vestige; the sword knowing as Mythcarver. However it laid deep within a monolith looking structure that rose towards the sky like an proud pyramid that matched the one you saw within your vision upon first receiving your vestige.

Once inside the monolith like structure, you were greeted by Osisa’s mate would told you to choose between wounding him-a being who has never been hurt in his lifetime- or face a horde of a hundred monsters.

“100 monsters sound fucking sick!” Grog exclaimed.

“Or we could wound this mother fucker and make history.” Scanlan counters.

“Tell me Scanlan, how exactly do you propose we find a way that can injure a being who’s never been hurt before in his entire life?” You retorted before shrugging your shoulders, “it sounds pretty cool but unfortunately it’s not going to be as historic as you make it out or be because,” you stop to wave your hands rapidly at the vast cold emptiness surrounding you, “there are no fucking historians to document this!” You added.

“Oh contrer my dear death blossom,” Scanlan cooed, “for you’ve got yourself a historian right here.” He says as he points to himself.

“Since when do bards constitute as historians?” You replied blankly.

“Since we’ve learnt to pick up a lute and learnt the art of story telling, baby.” Scanlan said.

“Alright that’s enough out of the pair of you,” Vex intervenes but as she was about to place her hand on your shoulder, you were quick to jerk away as though her touch would burn you even through the armour; therefore missing the hurt that flashed across her eyes and the smile slip off of Scanlan’s lips when he realised that the fun was ruined.

They both knew it was too good to be true to believe that you were finally staring to warm up to them. They knew they were naïve to think that a little bit of banter was going to change your mindset of them, to think that after your revival they could have a fresh start with you. Unfortunately for them, your revival only seemed have the reverse effect.

They just wanted you to come home to them but to you it seemed that the home they speak of was empty, cold and barren of any love for you.

The fight against Osisa’s mate wasn’t without it’s pros and cons;

Cons; you, Grog, Keyleth, Pike, Vex, Vax and Percy had all tried but all failed to even lay a scratch on the Sphynx in your attempts to wound him. Therefore finding yourselves falling into the endless void.

Pros: Scanlan defeated him with the power of emotional damage through a song made up on the spot about missing Osisa.

With Mythcarver now within your possession and with the location of the next Vestige revealed to Scanlan as within the Fey Realm. You were all just about as happy and as hopeful with the recent success rate of your collecting of vestiges which began to build confidence confidence in one day defeating the chroma conclave and restoring Tal’dorei back to it’s origin. However all of this hope was disrupted by the rude appearance of Umbrasyl.

“What’s this fucker doing here!” You roared as the dragon swooped Scanlan off his feet and took off into the air with Osisa’s mate hot on his scaled rear.

“Someone must’ve gave him an anonymous tip about the vestiges.” Percy said.

“They’re fucking dragons! What do they need the vestiges for!” You cried out, already envisioning how fucking stupid the chroma conclave looked trying to wield weapons made for the usage of beings far smaller then they.

“That’s a question we want answered right now.” Vax butted in as you all tried your damned hardest to rescue Scanlan. Only for it to be for nothing as Osisa’s mate died saving Scanlan from a deathly fall; All the while Umbrasyl managed to snag Mythcarver with his tail.

You were right, the petite sword looked fucking ridiculous held in the dragons tail that you almost could’ve laughed had your mind not be so transfixed on what this could potentially mean for all of you.

Things only went from bad to worse as Grog tried to hold off Umbrasyl whilst Keyleth readied the teleportation spell that would take you to the home of your next vestige. You could but only watch as with every incision Grog made on the dragon did the cursed sword grow bigger and the Goliath’s fighting style grew more and more violent and feral.

It all came to a climax when you were forced to watch as Pike was stabbed through the armoured abdomen by a distraught Grog. You had a sick feeling within your stomach at the sight of the Cerlic Gnome with a sword through her by the hands of her friend no less but you knew Grog was just as sick to his stomach as you were.

You couldn’t move, you were frozen to the floor. All you could do was scream as the teleportation spell had already been put into effect and began whooshing you, Vex, Vax, Keyleth and Percy off and away from Grog, Scanlan and Pike.

“No!!”

When you finally landed, you took immediate notice that you were on your own.

Percy, Vax, vex and Keyleth were nowhere to be found and you were for the first time since dying; scared.

[xris05]

Wooo! Geography and sustainability and stuff and stuff

When, in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one student to take upon themselves the burden of writing a very long (not really all that) academic post on a website they barely know how to use because said website was recommended to them by their actual genuine university as a blog website for an assignment.

And then said student forgets to do the assignment, falls deliriously ill, and is now finally getting round to it hilariously late and because all of their other assignments seem so, so much more difficult and mentally strenuous to do on a day where they really do not want to have to deal with that.

So, here we are. A comically large wall of poorly grammatically structured text, talking about (drumroll please) geography! More specifically "Human" geography, or Urban Geography or whatever you want to call it. It's my chosen field of study (despite my best judgement) and I've been tasked by the powers that be, to create a blog to inform and educate the nebulously defined general public about ~exciting~ developments and "Gamechanging innovations" Now, to tell the truth, this was not a particularly easy thing for me to do, because quite frankly my chosen field of study isn't really one of those ones you'd associate with constant innovation and invention, at least in my mind, but thankfully the university provided a long list of various subjects we could look at and study and then report back unto you (the reader, stand in for the entire rest of the world) about.

Small issue there, was the vast vast majority of what we were offered as potential "Gamechanging innovations" either drove me to madness with boredom, or absolutely did not seem like they were exactly "Gamechanging" (could be worse, one of the ideas offered to another discipline was the hyperloop, which is quite frankly a stupid idea that is dead in the water and could have just been normal highspeed rail)

Take, for instance, "Autonomous vehicles". Yeah. Now, suffice to say there is issues with the concept of self driving vehicles, mostly about how the technology is not exactly safe right now, and well, that's just the start of the rabbit hole there. (and really, just build a train, tram or other preferred method of public transport)

There was another one, which look promising to my untrained eye, namely "The Internet of things" which I had no idea what it was, so doing what any self respecting academic in-training would do, I googled it. Apparently, the "Internet of Things" is the catch-all term for devices that exchange and communicate data over the internet.

I'm no expert, but at an initial reading, that did just seem to be most things these days, and was hardly groundbreaking or new, so I dug a bit deeper into the scholarly side of the ole internet for some answers. Thankfully, I found a very helpful little paper (linked here) which clarified, and I quote:

"The term Internet of Things generally refers to scenarios where network connectivity and computing capability extends to objects, sensors and everyday items not normally considered computers, allowing these devices to generate, exchange and consume data with minimal human intervention. There is, however, no single, universal definition."

So it's the smart fridges, the fancy new cars and all of that lovely stuff, which buzz all of their data and such onto other devices on the internet. Now, of course my immediate thought was that it means my everything is now spying on me, but I was quickly relieved to remember that that changes effectively nothing as I do in fact own a phone which already does that.

The main benefit that seems to be proposed by this is the fact that all of this data allows rather effective monitoring of things like emissions and water quality and power usage and potentially good ole agriculture and so on and so forth, which, yeah, I can see the uses, maybe, but I can also see the glaring potential privacy, legal and potential tech issues.

A lot of people may not like their cars telling some company about where they've been all the time, and how much gas they've used. That's fair and understandable. Not to mention, the data gathered could be wrong, or otherwise rendered useless, effectively poisoning the data-well if enough things go wrong, or are just falsely reported to the public.

(It's at this point that I realise, I don't exactly know if this is quite what the uni wanted me to write, but hey, at least it's honest)

Anyway, I've overstayed my welcome in rambling about all of these things, and will be back (later) to complain/ do my assignment more, have a lovely day and remember that if you ever think about revolutionizing public transport, ask yourself if a bus or train would do the same thing, better.

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

For the WIP asks 😊

🌀❄️💧🌩️

Hiiii, thank you so much!!!

Unfortunately, there's no Enigmatic Confections in here, because I'm behind on that and there's not really Teslen either, but... 😅

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

This is for a one-shot where the summary has been bouncing around my brain:

A fellow doctor had once told Helen that every person you failed to save became a link in a chain. One that you carried around your neck for the rest of your days, their names engraved upon them. Well, Helen's chain was long enough to throw over a branch and tie a noose.

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

Here's a chunk from the Sanctuary Clans + Marriages WIP for you.

Only then did Helen raise her gaze to look at herself in the mirror. She certainly looked the part of a princess, though she seldom had need to dress like this. A crimson dress that hugged her frame to her hips, showing cleavage but not too much. A matching ruby necklace sparkling above the neckline, her hair pulled partially up with the pins, the circlet glinting in the light. Helen took a deep breath, fiddling with the circlet that was so seldom required, she could not even remember the last time she had worn it. "You look lovely, Princess." She tilted her chin up, not finding the words reassuring as they were most likely meant to be. But it was true. She looked beautiful. Regal. It would do. "Thank you." Helen departed her chambers, heading down to the hall. A few of the handmaids went with her, but their presence stopped at the doors. The hall was already crowded with her people, her father waiting for her at the head. Gregory's face was expressionless, but when his eyes landed on Helen, he smiled just a bit, the look fatherly and proud as he stood. "You look beautiful, sweetheart." Gregory kissed her forehead gently. "Thank you, Father." Helen took her seat, knowing that the suitors had arrived by now and would shortly be making their entrances. The thought made her tighten her hands in her skirt, because she wanted to ball her hands into fists so tightly that she cut into her own skin. But she smoothed her expression and waited, thoughts swirling. She may have been nervous, but Helen had already formed a planned of how this would go. She was nearly a queen--there was no reason to let these princes forget that for a moment. Whichever one she chose, their ascension would be due to her. That was something that she could use as well. Nice was not a part of this equation. Happy was not the intention for the outcome. This was political and she would treat it as such. And once they were married, they only needed to act married when they needed to conceive an heir or two. Boys or girls, it wouldn't matter for her clan. It didn't have to be a marriage in the traditional sense. It certainly wouldn't be a romance. Helen waited as her father quieted the court, keeping her gaze fixed on the door, wondering when the delegations would enter. She was already getting restless, despite the fact that she was trying to keep herself still and calm.

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen.

We're between unpublished romantic/hot/sweet bits in the WIPs right now, at least in ways that aren't big reveals. So...

Teensy flashback from Helen/Ranna + Island, which I think is sweet because of the baby.

"There we are, darling. There we are." Ranna said to Ashley as she cradled the baby to her chest. Helen smiled at the sight, wishing she had some way to capture this sight other than her memory. Most of Ashley wasn't even in the water, but she seemed more than to content to curl against Ranna's skin, eyes squinted open. She gurgled and shifted. "I think she likes it." Ranna said, smiling. "I believe you're right." Helen leaned back in the water, thinking that a long was probably a good idea. While Ashley's birth hadn't been particularly difficult, she still ached and it was nice to relax in the hot water and feel properly clean. She closed her eyes, listening to the water, Ashley's quiet cooing, and Ranna's humming. Sounds that sooth the soul, though the thought seemed overly sentimental.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

Oh god, none of the WIPs are at funny points, really, uh... uh.... this is amusing, maybe?

Here's a bit from my Helen/Ranna Island AU with small child Ashley:

Helen had rather naively thought that Ashley's questioning about babies would be over because of her silence. She hadn't taken into account that Ashley's silence may have simply been because she was digesting all the information she had just learned. "Babies grow in mummies' bellies?" Ashley said now, as Helen chopped vegetables to toss in the stew. "They do." she confirmed. Ashley glanced between her and Ranna. "Whose belly did I grow in?" Helen paused, because it hadn't occurred to her that Ashley might ask. But at least Ashley seemed to understand only one could be involved. "Your Mummy's." Ranna answered, cuddling Ashley closer for a moment. "Really?" "Yes." Helen said, resuming her chopping. Ashley's blue eyes were round now and she tipped her head back to look at Ranna. "Why not yours?" Helen's stomach jolted unpleasantly and Ranna's huge eyes met hers. They really should have thought of some explanation for instances like this, when Ashley was asking questions. She was too young to understand. What were they supposed to say--Your mummy loves three people and your mommy only likes women, so there was only one option? "Did you not like me?" Ashley asked Ranna. "Sweetheart, I loved you from the moment your mummy told me about you." Helen's mind was rapidly trying to come up with an explanation that did not involved men in any way. "Well, Ashley, we both wanted you, but only one of us could...grow you." Ashley perked up. "Did you flip a coin?" "Yes." Ranna said before Helen could respond. "Ohh." Ashley seemed to find this very reasonable. Helen gave Ranna a look as Ashley slid out of her lap and walked to join her in the kitchen. Ranna shrugged, spreading her hands slightly. "Mummy?" Ashley looked at her with eyes that were still gleaming with curiosity. "Yes, darling?" "Next time there's a baby, can I watch it be born?"

Hopefully I'll get more Teslen/non-general emotions stuff done soon. 😅

[silver-blooded-synthetics]

Continued from here.

@semprexqualcosa

“I didn’t think to offer either - I always forget how frail of creatures humans can be.” So Frisk as just 'in the wrong’ about it. Though it’s done and over with so there’s no point thinking about it now, right? “Human clothing is quite interesting. Makes me want to make some things of my own.” Other than what they have already. After all, Frisk would be walking about naked in their human form otherwise.

“If you change your mind, just let me know~” As they would have no issue with making Errol something. Frisk did enjoy the act of weaving their thread into clothing. Something they would have never realized if they hadn’t come to this dimension.

A trill-like sound escapes them at the lifting of their chin followed by the compliment. They seem to particularly like the fact that Errol approves. And they are. After all, he considers the human what humans call a 'friend’. Their opinion is important to them. “Oh, I know I’m attracted by my kind’s standards, but humans do not seem to take kindly to what they deem.. monsters?” That’s the correct word, right? “Oh? You liked that form of mine too then, hm?”

"Don't worry about it," Errol said with a shrug. It was water under the bridge as far as Errol was concerned. Done and over with, nothing could be done to change it now, and it wasn't really that bad to begin with. Just a mild inconvenience.

Frisk certainly seemed enamored with the idea of creating clothing though. "You should play around with it then, weave some clothing for yourself. Or me, I suppose. I'll be a model for you, if you'd like," he said with a playful smile. After all, anything was better that that awful white uniform he had to wear at the lab all the time. He'd love to have some more fashionable clothing.

Errol's head teetered from side to side and he glanced upwards, considering Frisk's comment on monsters and how humans viewed them. "True. Not that I can blame them. A lot of the other creatures in the place you came from were... dangerous, to say the least. Even you have the potential to be. Fear is a natural reaction from humans. But I can still appreciate how elegant and beautiful a monster you are. Besides, some would argue I'm a monster too, despite being human. So, who am I to judge?"

At Frisk's last question, Errol raised an eyebrow. "So, what if I do? Like I said, you're a very majestic creature. Much more interesting than humans. We're a rather mundane creature full of flaws and set on a path of self destruction," he said, a touch of bitterness in his voice, though he quickly shrugged that off. "I like you in either form. But I may be biased, because I find your personality more interesting than most other people I've met, and that doesn't change when you're physical form does."

[charlesoberonn]

Haven't read the second Yangchen book, but from what I remember about Yangchen's first book: is it just me, or is one of its biggest problems that… Yangchen isn't really explored in any meaningful way? First, too much of the story is tied to a random water tribe kid instead of her; (it's okay to have him as another POV character, but he takes up so much screentime that it makes Yangchen feel like an afterthought some of the times, in her own story).

Second, of course we had to skip over some of her early exploits because the comics had already dealt with General Old Iron, but... it still feels strange not seeing much/anything of Yangchen's childhood (her one scene where she's having visions in the prologue aside). We don't get much worldbuilding for the Air Nomads, which this was a great opportunity to.

But what gets me the most is that, her entire deal, supposedly, is her strong connection with her past lives. She can access them very easily, and she talks to them a lot. But... Nothing is done with that, really. We don't really get scenes where Yangchen contacts them and talks to them, which could have been highlight moments for the story. (It's also baffling because they would have been able to show off a bunch of new past Avatars to the audience, like, a golden opportunity for the creators to just flex with some cool characters.) Yangchen is never possessed by them either, which could have been interesting, to have ancient Avatars inhabiting her body for spooky spiritual moments. And jumping off those points, the LIVES AND HISTORIES of the past Avatars aren't even important to the story, which just feels wrong -- if she has a strong connection to them, damn well we should see her talking to them, and their histories should have some bearing on what's going on now. So it's like a completely wasted character opportunity.

(Which makes me frustrated during the one scene where Yangchen is talking to a rude White Lotus person, and she says "I talked to all kinds of Avatars and none of them thought they lived during a golden age." But my dude, as far as I remember, WE didn't get to see that!)

Idk. There's just something about the very setup of the book that feels wasted. Makes me wonder if Book 2 was, too. (Sorry for long ask, just wanted to make sure my point was making sense!)

Don't be sorry. I agree.

I would add more but I found the first Yangchen novel very forgetable.

I do remember that there's basically zero development between her and her Team Avatar. They spend most of the story apart.

Despite the fact that the foreword to the first Kyoshi novel explicitly states it as an essential element of an Avatar story.

Now that I think about, Kyoshi's Team Avatar were also absent (except for Rangi) for most of her second novel. I think F. C. Yee just doesn't like the concept of a team of supporting characters.