#and isn’t it a recurring thing??

[francesderwent]

An hour and a half journey, tops. Easy, quick, straightforward, and as pleasant as a trip can be.

Yeah, right. That’s the theory. But it isn’t so much fun when you’re helping carry six super-massive duffel bags weighed down with metal, plus a rapier bag with four old ones stuffed inside as spares, and you have a brand-new rapier at your belt getting in your way. It also doesn’t help if your leader and his deputy both conveniently mislay their wallets, so it’s you who has to fork out for the train tickets, and pay supplements for the heavy luggage. Or that you spend so much time haggling, you end up missing the first train. Yes, all that really improves your mood.

[blood-mocha-latte]

okay so i got a really weird anon the other day and, after chewing on it for a while, have decided to put this on the table. i will not be answering the anon because i feel it would not be beneficial nor helpful to anyone in the slightest, and am instead putting my thoughts here:

easy co. was a real company. these people were and are real people. band of brothers, the pacific, and masters of the air were not solely created to satisfy what a fan would want in a series, it also serves as dramatized documentation of what real people went through.

the fact that all people shown in these shows are real people leads to a strange surrounding of ideals that they can only be worshipped, not criticized on the basis of modern day ideals.

which is true, and always will be: historical perspective in all things is required to better understand the past and the world around you.

but when it gets to the point that you can take well thought out criticism and turn it into an attack against a favorite war blorbo of yours; willing to send anons or get overly distressed over a well thought out argument or even just another fan stating one of their ideas, that’s when it’s time to step back.

it’s important to realize that these men were all men in the 1940s. they had layers, beliefs, and thoughts that may not line up with those of today.

people addressing this is not disrespectful.

people stating that made them uncomfortable is not disrespectful.

bigotry in all forms was, at times, mentioned, used, or talked about by these veterans, and it should not be ignored on the basis of preserving the memory of a real person as a perfect individual when no such thing exists.

what is disrespectful is belittling or mocking what these men went through in the war; trauma is not, and never will be, funny. it is disrespectful to compare, call names, or say things about these men in regards to certain things: in band of brothers, comparing liebgott to a rat is one of the biggest one. that is disrespectful.

it is not disrespectful to be addressing certain things said in interviews or memoirs after the fact, surrounding race, gender, politics, or more.

people are complex, and jumping immediately to defending a man you never met or knew personally by sending hate, anons, or having a wildly overbloated reaction is not defending them. it’s just feeding into a perspective of a characterization of what people want a real person to be.

[doctorwhommm]

I adore how you draw the team, I think you really portray the balance betwen goofiness/cuteness and personality of that makes sense. What do you think of the hc that Ianto is autistic?

DUDE!! thank you so much this is really really lovely to hear- i think one of my favourite things about torchwood is how silly/funny they can all be which sometimes gets missed with all the insane levels of angst that also occurs. im so glad you think i get that balance!!

thoughts on autistic ianto bellow the cut so I don’t clog ppls feeds !!

i think the autistic ianto hc makes a LOT of sense in some very interesting ways!! there’s loads of little moments in the show and expanded media where i really pick up on autistic traits manifesting in iantos behaviour and thoughts and struggles- often in a subtextual way that can contextualise some of his actions.

i also think it’s especially apparent in the audios when they drop in little bits about his life- such as the stuff with him visiting his nan every weekend growing up + the routine around it (I think that’s in the last beacon?). or like all of the audio coffee lol. there’s been a few points in the audios where ive really got the impression they’re at least aware of the idea of ianto having asd bc of how they portray him. I think I remember seeing somewhere ages ago that GDL had approved of/agreed with the interpretation that ianto is autistic somewhere on twitter once- haven’t got an actual source for this tho so do take this skeptically. either way you can see ianto having autistic traits in his writing pretty clearly sometimes!!

ultimately, i do generally think with any head cannon that if people r enjoying it and not hurting anyone then it’s totally cool with me, but i do specifically have a big old soft spot for autistic ianto hcs!!! i can see how he could be interpreted either way, and am happy to swing between both interpretations, but I do think the autistic ianto hc has some rly interesting stuff going on with it ◡̈

[rosemaze-reveries]

it took me 4hrs just to complete weepy’s 9th deduction but i finally unlocked this mf chart 🏌️ i feel like my souls been gutted out goodbye tumblr im quitting idv

[thepromisedbride]

i actually love how the apprentice’s perception of what is happening and what his role should be is changed by sir wiping his memory. like yes king unreliably narrate your own journey to yourself!!

[lem-argentum]

!! YOU DESERVE TO BE ON A COOL AIRSHIP WITH YOUR F/Os!!! what would the airship be called, would your different f/os suggest different names? :0

THANK YOUUUU JACE the dreammm :’) <3

i!!! am not sure!!!! since doug meg and i are the main three (probably the first to live there in this scenario) we’d probably come up with a name together? doug would suggest something stupid (affectionate) and meg n i would laugh and veto it <3 we would decide on something eventually. <3

[ninawolv3rina]

I know Javier (the crab guy) is technically for a futuristic/sci-fi thing but I was wondering if you've ever thought about repurposing him into a setting like Duffy's, or Look Into Her Many Eyes.

Also, a broader version of that question is, how do you know when a character isn't meshing well into a story/setting and whether you should scrap them entirely or find another way to repurpose them?

What helps you determine if a character is necessary or can be replaced by someone or something else? Especially if you're attached to the character and/or something the character does in a scene or in the story.

These are REALLY good questions!

RE: Javi. I have TOTALLY considered dropping him into Duffy’s world. I think the biggest clash would be that he and Duffy are very similar characters and her universe might not have the room for two egos if that magnitude. That said, if I ever think of a brief enough plot for them, I’ve thought about how that would go. Look Into Her Many Eyes is gonna be far too low tech and contained for someone like him tho lol.

Character meshing: There’s a lot of factors for this. The biggest time it ever happened to me was with Harriet - in draft one, Harriet was a man. Her character really wasn’t working out for me, because i felt like he was repeating a lot of the same themes found in Marlowe and Arvin. I had to take a step back and think about exactly what you’re asking - what’s not working here? Is it something I can change? Would it be better to remove it entirely?

For Harriet, the answer was No, I can’t take her out. To divvy her lines to Marlowe and Arvin would completely change their relationships with Quincy, and to remove her entirely would be to remove a neccesary part of the narrative - that not everyone is willing to open themselves to change, not everyone CAN be redeemed. So, i needed to change it. But how? What wasn’t working? I think i had two options - change his personality, or change something else. And idk when exactly it hit me, but i realized the tone of Quincy and Harriet’s relationship would change DRASTICALLY if Harriet was a woman. Like, the tension became less predatory (Male!Harriet came off like a sex pest in some scenes), and there was a sense of wry amusement and mutual respect that hadn’t been there before. Also, her relationship with marlowe became less brotherly and suddenly I had a whole new relationship - Marlowe and Harriet have a mother/son bond without me changing almost anything other than the pronouns in those scenes.

Idk if that answered the question. I wasn’t particularly attached to Harriet as a character, more to what she accomplished in the story.

There ARE characters I’ve been attached to that don’t work perfectly. Usually I can just feel that they don’t work before I even get past drafting. Eyes, for instance - I Knew I had to have a priest character for the story to work, but every version of a priest i tried to slot in mentally just didn’t work. that happens a lot - it’s never the character that’s the problem, it’s the Way That They Are. I more often find a hole where i need a new character to move things forward than i find one just taking up space that needs removed. Idk why that is, maybe I’m more efficient than i give myself credit for. I get pretty brutal about what I feel does/doesn’t work before I even start writing (see: my post on headcanons where i talk about axing Quinlowe as a concept)

Anyways! sorry for the ramble and thank you for the question!

[donaldtrumpsrightear]

.

Google ai how to get your partner to stop being mad at you for literally trying to keep them from having a heart attack

[fingertipsmp3]

I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week

[exopelagic]

dr who is a strange show

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | GENUINE

SUM. : your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him

LENGTH : 1.8k

TAGS : actor james potter au ; modern au ; muggle au ; singer reader au ; actor/director sirius black au ; actress marlene mckinnon au ; fluff ; celebrity couple goals ; james can't do romantic roles ; he's too loyal!

“CUT!” Sirius shouts and James drops his shoulders in disappointment, his expression of ‘hopeless love’ also slipping off his face. This is why he wasn’t suited for romantic roles. As Sirius shouts for everyone to take a short five-minute break, James catches Marlene sending him a sympathetic look before moving to her chair with the help of her make-up team, who lifted the heavy skirt of her wedding dress for easier movement. “Come on James, what’s gotten into you?” Sirius asks, making his way over as Remus touches up James’ hair and suit. 

“I’m trying Sirius,” the actor sighs, “I think I just need a break to collect myself and then I can finally get that winning take for you,” 

“You better,” Sirius playful threatens, “I know you’re a lovesick fool so I know the type of infatuated expressions you can pull. Just try to emulate that and you’re golden, okay?”

‘It’s not that easy if it isn’t her…’ James was tempted to protest but settled with a simple, “Okay…” satisfied, Sirius walks away with Remus to discuss some things with the camera crew while James leans against the set’s alter. 

As an actor, James should find it easy to perform his characters’ expressions and emotions, his stardom and recurring roles in thriller, action and adventure films were a sentiment to that. However, his current role requires romantic displays, something he had actively avoided in his acting career. 

Characters that had passionate, romantic and intimate scenes were roles James tended to avoid primarily due to his endless loyalty to you, his childhood sweetheart. As young teens, you and James fell in love long before your successes. Since then, you have only grown a deeper love for each other, fostered by the hardships that came with your dreams of becoming a singer and his of becoming an actor with Sirius. 

His best friend eventually divulged into directing his own films whilst James continued expanding his career as an actor — as much as he’s able to with the number of scripts he’s dropped for their romantic interests and amorous scenes. It didn’t sit right with him having to kiss another girl let alone look lovingly at someone that wasn’t you. He felt like a cheat. Many, including Sirius, however, have told him that it was part of his job but James was insistent on making no exceptions. He respected you and the love you shared too much. The same way you would play your own love interest in music videos while wearing a short wig and masculine attire. It was a show of mutual respect you both had for the other before and after your relationship became public. 

The only reason James had taken on this role was due to Sirius’ insistence as the director, the lack of intimate scenes as well as the dominating adventure, and fantasy genre. It would all be underpinned by small heartfelt moments with his character’s love interest played by his close friend Marlene McKinnon. The two characters’ love story will end in tragedy, haunted by the trope of ‘right person, wrong time’. James believed he could convincingly play his loving expressions only brought on by you in the rare, romantic moments his character shares with Marlene’s but it’s proving harder than he originally thought. Simply thinking about you wasn’t enough…

Mulling over his character’s story, James imagines you in Marlene’s place. He only had three minutes remaining to focus on how he should convey his character’s ‘hopeless love’ convincingly. 

To concentrate, he closes his eyes and thinks deeply, ignoring the sudden scuffle and whispers around him. On an adventure to rescue his unrequited love’s significant other, James selflessly volunteers to aid in her quest, protecting her and cherishing her throughout the arduous journey, putting his life at risk for a girl who would never love him back. Unselfishly, he continues forward without drawing any attention to the deep love he holds for her, the audience kept in suspense of his mysterious ambitions— that is, until the dream sequence. In his sleep, influenced by the surrounding, foreign plants’ effects, James dreams of his ideal future, one where he gets to marry his love, who will reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly. It’s the moment all audience members realise James’ true motivations, encouraging a swell of heartache amongst them when they are forced to accept the reality his own character is made to face: that he cannot be with his love no matter despite his efforts. Her heart belongs to another and if he were to fall for the plant’s trap, he will never wake up from his heavenly dream-come-true and become living fertilsier to continue the plant’s life. The heartache of that realisation is further emphasised when James doesn’t stop loving her in his own, silent and benevolent way. 

This is going to be a big moment for James’ character; he needs to put his all into this!

Before he has the chance to open his eyes, however, James is already being led to his spot on the set by Remus. The brunette informs him that the short break is over and instructs him to start before his turn to face Marlene. 

“Again, the shot’s focus will be on your face, James, Make it a good one,” Sirius instructs from his director’s chair and, with a small pause cues for the start of the hundredth take.

Opening his eyes gradually, as if waking up from a dream, James takes a moment to analyse his surroundings. He meets the eyes of his groomsmen, shooting them a confused look before slowly turning and raising his gaze. He’s become familiar with Marlene in her wedding dress now so her off-centred placement doesn’t deter him. He also fully trusts in the team, if they saw it fit to make any changes, he’ll help follow through. Marlene is only slightly off centre, he realises, to accommodate the camera’s view of his expression more clearly. James fully expects to only see Marlene, however, when he finally raises his gaze, in the distance, he sees you by the camera. 

And James immediately smiles. 

He completely forgets where he is, rather, he savours the warmth that fills his chest at the sight of you, the burst of elation in his brain when he sees you smiling at him, dressed in his oversized sweater and your casual jeans. You’re not in a wedding dress nor dolled up the same way Marlene is for the take but you’re just as gorgeous. There’s a tingling itch in his fingertips to reach out for you and he almost does but stops when he remembers where he is and what’s happening around him. His look of sweeping joy and deep affection falters ever so slightly but is completely captured by the camera’s close-up shot. James’ internal berating of another failed performance barely begins when Sirius is suddenly cheering in delight. 

“CUT! AND PRINT!” Sirius claps and laughs at the success but James is left blinking in confusion. Did he hallucinate you? He looks in your direction again. No, you weren’t a figment of his imagination, you’re really here! “Finally! That was what I was looking for! Great idea on putting her beside the camera, Moony,” 

Remus nods his head in graceful humility as you giggle from where you stand. You had planned a surprise visit for James and called Remus beforehand for access to the set. It was the perfect surprise considering you had barely seen each other the last few weeks; he was busy filming with Sirius and Marlene while you were recording songs for your new, up-and-coming album. That only seemed to add to James’ favourable reaction, however. 

“BREAK!” Sirius announces with a wink directed at you, “Let's give the two love birds a moment, as thanks for finally getting the job done. Let’s give it ten!” it seemed as though succeeding after multiple failures had made Sirius a little too happy and laidback but who was James to complain? As Marlene knowingly smirks at him, he runs past and launches himself at you. With a squeal, you return his embrace and giggle into his shoulder. 

“I missed you…” he whispers into your crown.

“Surprise!” you announce despite the lateness and giggle again. Music to his ears. 

“Thanks for helping me with my scene, love,” he pulls away with deep affection swimming in his hazel eyes and he cups your jaw while resisting the urge lean in and kiss you endlessly. He loves the sound of your voice just as much as the feel of your lips against his own so, for now, he’ll willing listen. He can taste your sweet lips later.  

“I didn’t really know what was happening but I’m happy to help,” 

“You’re so cute,” he sighs and finally pulls you into passion-filled kiss before you can utter another word. "I can't believe you're my lady,"

"Your lady?"

"Yes," James giggles and kisses your cheek again and again and again, "my lady, the same way, I'm your man,"

"Mmm, sounds good," you utter against his lips, "I'll have to feature you in my new music video then~"

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“...tell me about that scene. It was such a big moment for the audience and your character. How did you manage to look so in love but then so heartbroken?” the interviewer asks, smiling but tilting his head in curiosity when Marlene burst out laughing. 

“Oh, this is such a good story!” James looks away, unable to meet his co-star and friend’s mischievous smirk and glimmering eyes, “Can I tell him?” she doesn’t even give him the chance to answer before ingeminating the tale, “James couldn’t get that moment right for multiple takes. We were all getting tired of him, really. But since Sirius knew he was capable of being a love-drunk fool, he persisted for over an hour! And this is just for a one minute section of the film!” James finally chuckles despite his flustered expression when Marlene makes a side comment about how the wedding dress was a chore to wear for such an extended period of time and didn’t appreciate James’ slow uptake, “there wasn’t even an after-party for me to let loose in, my supposed ‘groom’ had his brain elsewhere,” the two share a laugh and James picks up on the story. 

“Elsewhere, meaning my girlfriend. She actually planned a surprise visit during filming and was brought in by Remus. He put her right by the camera and the reaction you saw on film was my reaction to seeing her instead of Marlene.” his co-star coos at how adorable he is whenever he’s around you and gossips with the interviewer about how cute of a couple the two of you make behind the scenes. 

“Is that why you’ve become her love interest in the music videos for her new album?” the interviewer asks impromptu. He’s on the edge of his seat and is a clear fan of your music, which makes James happier than if the man was to say he was a fan of him.  

“Naturally,” James smiles to himself, “she did say I was the inspiration for her love ballads,”

NAVI.

A/N : this was inspired by this tiktok and a daydream i had! the anime is called 'Frieren: Beyond Journey's End', I've never watched it but it was on my fyp, i did some exploring and, now, here i am (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!

[traitimdoithay]

me: damn why does the yugioh anime suck with how it handles all the female characters

shounen genre:

me: ah, of course

[reduced-sour-cream]

Also yes it was a very much charged situation but with everything that had just happened I feel like both of them wanted that closeness.

Like Haruhi just got Tamaki back after fearing his disappearance forever to France with Éclair so it’s natural for her to want to have him close as a reassurance thing following the trauma she would effectively have been reminded of in that.

For Tamaki, he’s realising what’s important to him and having to balance his priorities, yes the situation with his mother was painful but he realised he couldn’t spend his life with Éclair/someone he met days earlier, and the person he was coming to terms with having feelings for being in danger. Following the events of the beach episode, he would have likely felt hypocritical in letting her fall (still don’t really agree with the framing of that episode but still reminding myself 2006 was a very different time of anime production and also I turned 5). But again he would have felt reassurance in having her pulled close and safe.

The combination of all of these emotions, there is no way kissing would have been a consideration for either of them. They are FALLING OFF A BRIDGE and very fucking emotional with the events even of just the past 2 days. The only thing making people go ohhh they should have kisseddd was the music. Take that away and remove the slowdown and angles to have it happen in real time and the entire tone changes

ohshc fans listen up, don’t come at me but

it was just not physically possible for them to kiss considering they were in mid-air. also they’re just babiesss cut them some slack 😭

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent.  The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over. 

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you. 

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering. 

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes. 

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish. 

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you. 

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met. 

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it. 

[freyadragonlord]

Recently I’ve been thinking about the different types of love languages in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, The S-Classes That I Raised, and Lout of the Count’s Family…

Not to say that each of the stories describes only one single kind of love language; they are, after all, all novels that focus on Found Family, with many different types of relationships between characters that express their love for each other in as many different ways.

Yet, I’ve noticed how at the core of each of these three stories there is one specific act of love that recurs more than others, and that becomes the true Theme each novel revolves around.

In Lout of the Count’s Family, the main love language is providing food and a home.

“Home” is such an important concept in LCF that Cale collects houses like they were pokemon cards. The source of his trauma when he was a child as Kim Roksu was that he was not given sufficient food, and that where he lived was not truly a shelter where he could feel safe, just a place he was trapped in.

And I don’t think there are ever more than 2 chapters in a row without a character offering food to others, or asking if they’re hungry, if they’ve eaten, why haven’t you eaten, here have some apple pie!!

Cale uses his newfound money and power to make sure his loved ones are provided for. That’s how he adopts bonds with most of his new family.

The first thing Raon does after he’s freed from the prison he’s been trapped in all his life, is to leave food for this hopelessly weak human.

Choi Han, who has lived alone in a dangerous forest for decades, would do anything to protect his home.

The Crown Prince, who has been isolated and untrusting of everyone ever since his mother died, makes sure to always have cookies in his bedroom in case guests “break in” for a visit at any time of the day or the night.

I love you, you’ll never be hungry again. I love you, my home is your home.

In The S-Classes That I Raised, the main love language is words.

Yoojin’s powers are literally activated by telling people “I love you”. Because all he ever wanted was to say “I love you” to his brother one last time.

Because the tragedy that starts the story happens because Yoohyun loved and protected his hyung in secret for years. Silence creates misunderstandings, it creates distance, it leads to loss.

Loving someone isn’t enough, tell them! Reassure them. Remember what they say, because their words are important!!

Ever since the regression, Yoojin always let people know when he loves them and appreciates them. “You’re perfect, you’re cute, you’re so talented, you’re so handsome, you are loved.”

And as the novel progresses, whenever Yoojin is in pain, or doesn’t know what to do, he turns to Sung Hyunje because he needs to be reassured, he needs to know he did well, he needs to hear he is still important to the people he loves.

I love you, please know that I love you! I love you, please tell me you love me back.

And finally, in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, the main love language is time.

Time is one of the greatest sources of horrors in ORV. Eternities upon eternities of suffering, being trapped for ages in the same, hopeless loop, wishing for everything to just stop.

And yet, time is also the greatest gift characters give to each other.

Because the wounds Dokja suffered as a child, and then again and again through his whole life…. They need time to heal. They need so much time. They will probably take forever.

So let them take forever.

Despite how much pain and worry he causes his companions by giving up on himself over and over again, his companions never give up on him. And he doesn’t understand why!! He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But it’s not his choice, it’s theirs. And they will go through as many tries, as much pain, as much time as it takes, before they can finally save him.

I love you, so I will wait fifty years for you. I love you, so I will live through thousands of lifetimes to find you. I love you, so I will read and reread your story for the rest of time, just to keep you alive.