#bc i have a really good feeling about this one :)

[dilf-docs]

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue. 

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. 

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction. 

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat. 

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge. 

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

[pezpenser205]

no bc youre so right and you have no idea how painful it is to Make a post like this and then see people going "except for x thing" in two different ways that are completely ignoring your point

1. equating tolerating your friends liking problematic media to tolerating bigotry, or that friend being a proud tesla owner, etc. they should know damn well i wasnt talking about those things when i bring up examples like hazbin hotel and taylor swift. these are full grown adults that should understand that one is significantly more serious. "except for if your friend likes nazis" okay well i didnt say that ! literally anywhere ! <3

2. basically going "except for [annoying/problematic but harmless thing]" like south park or homestuck, basically just ignoring what i said to protect their feelings so they dont have to confront that theyre a douche like ive had to.

not liking something and being uncomfortable is not equal to violence. its your job to know where the line is between not really liking what your friend is into and not liking your friends personality + beliefs and theres a HUGE gap between "fan of minorly problematic media that has no widespread effect, but otherwise an ally" and "conservative/nazi"

if any of these people tried to pull this chronically online bullcrap irl everyone would hate them, but none of these people actually have irl friends so i dont expect them to understand that when youre mean to people over dumb shit even though theyre kind to you it makes Everyone not like you. this is obvious to people with good relationships with our families and friends, but for the average tumblr user whose support system consists of a computer and a venemous hatred of cringy queer preteens they literally cannot comprehend being friends with someone who enjoys something they dont like or find minorly problematic because theyve conditioned themselves to get unwarrantedly mad at stupid shit. it takes one to know one. used to be one of them and it sucked + was miserable.

theres a huge difference between liking elon musk and listening to taylor swift but for some reason people on this site will get equally mad at both of those people when irl shit just doesnt work like that. you cant check someones dni or immediately see that theyre a fan of something you dont like before you vibe with them and are already friends unless theyre wearing merch or something. my bad for valuing things other than consumption when thinking about friendships i guess (obvious sarcasm).

all of this mess just to say youve gotta pick your battles. ts aint that serious.

im sorry but when you grow up and interact with people irl youre gonna have friends where you dont fw their tastes. sometimes youre gonna meet someone chill whos also a hazbin hotel fan or have a really nice coworker that likes taylor swift and youre gonna need to mind your business and shut the fuck up or youre gonna be real lonely

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Royally Screwed•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 3.6K

Synopsis: Your best friend has invited you to a Piltover Gala. You wouldn't be so worried if the guest list didn't include Ambessa Medarda: the woman you've been seeing secretly for months, and, of course, your best friend's mother...

Based on this ask (thank you anon!)

Content/Warnings: slight divergence from canon (i guess piltover and noxus are cool w each other now), nsfw, reader is referred to w fem pronouns/has fem anatomy, reader has hair long enough to pull, jealous!ambessa, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, bondage, spanking, vibrator use, strap use, reader gives ambessa head mhmmm, consent checks bc ambessa is a good dom, mel stop meddling in your best friend's love life challenge failed, jayce stop being sassy challenge failed, sappho exists in this universe bc she exists in every universe I write sorry not sorry

A/N: i just realized that anon asked for the reader's relationship to be exposed and I totally forgot to incorporate that aspect, but i was thinking i might do a little drabble soon of mel's reaction to the reader's relationship with her mom... what do you guys think? anywho... for now, i hope i did this request justice and that you enjoy!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

“This is bad, Jayce.”

You’re staring at yourself in the lighted full-length mirror in Mel’s bedroom-sized closet, hands nervously running up and down the tulle skirt of your dress; one of five that Mel had custom made for you to choose from for tomorrow’s gala.

You should be ecstatic. Who wouldn’t love the chance to dress up in Piltover’s finest garments, playing pretend with the nobles while you gorge yourself on fancy hors d'oeuvres and drown yourself in free champagne with your best friend?  

You would be ecstatic if it weren’t for the fact that on the guest list was Ambessa Medarda: Noxian warrior by day, your secret lover by night. 

Oh, and lest you forget: your best friend’s mother.

“So, so bad…” you mutter, stepping off of the circular podium and plopping down in the velvet chaise beside it. 

“Really? You know, I was gonna say the color really brings out your eyes-”

Jayce is cut off by a mouthful of the gown that you throw at him from across the room.

“Not the dress, Jayce!”

Reading the room was not his forte. 

“Hey, watch it,” he scolds, “this is Noxian silk! Be delicate!”

Case and point. You roll your eyes at him as he fumbles to place the gown back on its hanger. 

“Listen,” he sighs, walking over to where you're sprawled out helplessly on the chaise. He lifts your leaden legs, sits down beside you, and places them on his lap. “It’s going to be fine. Ambessa knows the two of you are keeping things… you know… on the low,”

You cringe at his attempted use of slang. 

“Yeah, I didn’t like that either, didn’t feel natural at all- anyway! Ambessa knows you aren’t ready to tell Mel about the two of you. She’ll keep her distance, you’ll keep yours, and you’ll get to have a fun night with your best friend. Don’t overthink it.” 

You nod slowly, bottom lip between your teeth as you mull over his words. 

“You’re right,” you say with a soft smile. “you’re right. It’ll be fine.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

What you had not accounted for was that Mel had been plotting to set you up with an acquaintance of hers, and she figured, what better night to introduce the two of you than at an event such as this?

“What the hell?” You whisper-scream, pulling Mel into a secluded corner of the beautiful ballroom. 

“What?” She asks, feining innocence; although, she knew entirely well that the reason she’d chosen to give you no notice of this potential suitor was because you would have enthusiastically declined, as you always did. 

“Mel,” you scold, “why did you not tell me I’d have some date entertain? One has to prepare herself for these things!”

“Oh, come on, you make it sound like you’re on babysitting duty. She’s perfectly pleasant! A little bit older- just as you like-” 

Your face heats up,

“And very kind! Brilliant, too; we’re in a book club together and her analysis each week is thoroughly impressive.”

Wariness is still written all over your face.

“Please, Y/n?” Mel pleads, “Just give her tonight. See how it goes. If you don’t click, you never have to see her again.” 

You sigh. It isn’t the clicking you’re worried about; you’re sure she is “perfectly pleasant,” and she is easy on the eyes. You might have even been interested if it weren’t for the woman in red across the room whose eyes were already on you like a hawk. At times, you couldn’t even see that she was staring; you simply felt it. The invisible pull, tantalizing and thick with tension…

And gods, here was her daughter in front of you. You’re nearly mortified at the circumstance.

Nevertheless, you’d need to play it off. If you were too averse to the idea of spending time with this suitor- Clara, was it?- Mel would want to know why, and her prying was relentless. 

“Fine,” you resign with a sigh, “I will entertain her-and you- just this once.”

The woman in front of you squeals in excitement. You feign amusement, but deep down, you know: if Ambessa sees you humoring this woman, you’re screwed.

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“Ah, yes; the poems of Sappho. Some of my favorites,” Clara muses. 

The two of you have taken to discussing your favorite authors and works of literature, unsurprisingly, considering that Mel mentioned meeting Clara at her book club. This was a good topic, you thought. Pleasant enough to stay engaged, but not so engaging that she’d get the chance for her to make any moves. 

Clara moves in closer, lowering her voice to speak to you. 

“Mel mentioned you were a big fan of her work,” she says with a coy smile.

Damn it, you think, I should have stayed away from Sappho!

“She also mentioned that you were very bright, and I must admit,” 

She leans down to whisper into your ear, 

“You’ve got beauty to match your brains.”

“O-oh,” you stutter with an awkward laugh, “Thanks.” 

Clara gives you an amused smirk. She must think she’s flustered you, and not that you’ve just caught sight of Ambessa glaring at her.

“Your drink is empty,” she observes. 

“Oh! Yes... it is.”

“Allow me.” 

Clara takes the empty glass from your hands, sauntering over to the bar and leaving you alone… finally, until,

“How’s it going?”

You jump at the sound of Mel’s voice in your ear from behind you.

“Gods, Mel! You scared me!”

“Oh, pfft. I didn’t mean to; but tell me! Are the two of you getting on alright?”

You give her a shrug and a half-hearted smile. 

“We both like Sappho…”

“Wonderful! I knew the two of you would have so much in common, I simply-”

The rest of Mel’s match-maker ramble fades to white noise when suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you see Ambessa approaching. 

“...and the two of you- are you listening?!”

Your wide eyes snap back to her. “Sorry! It’s just-”

Her gaze follows yours, and her eyes land on her mother.

“Gods, Y/n. She isn’t that intimidating, you know.”

“Right,” you exhale. 

Right. Intimidated of the renowned Noxian warrior in front of you. That’s what you were. Not terrified of her daughter finding out you were sleeping with her, not bewildered at the fact that you’re sleeping with her in the first place, and certainly not a little turned on by the glare she just gave you…

“Enjoying the party, mother?” Mel greets.

“Only as much as I typically enjoy these sorts of events, dear,” she sighs, adjusting the ornate gold jewelry circling her bicep in a practiced movement. 

“You’re bored out of your mind and ready to go home to your library,” Mel deadpans.

“Precisely.”

You let out a chuckle at the interaction. Ambessa’s attention is back on you.

“How are you, Y/n?”

You short circuit for a moment, not expecting her to address you directly. 

“Oh! I- I’m fine. Same as you. Ready to curl up with a good book.”

Her gaze softens for a moment. She knows how much you love to read; you’ve spent hours upon hours tackling her personal collection. 

Mel sighs with a roll of her eyes. “She’s not enjoying her company.” 

You glare at Mel, cursing her mouthiness.

“I try so hard to set her up people- who I believe are perfectly good matches, by the way- but she’s quite picky, this one.” 

Ambessa knows this, too.

You let out an incredulous scoff. 

“Mel!” 

Ambessa smiles again. This time, there’s something else to it. Something mischievous… calculated. 

“Not to worry, dear,” she begins, looking at you, “there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

You’re glad you aren’t nursing champagne at the moment, or you might have choked on it. 

“Oh! There’s Jayce,” Mel excitedly begins, sights set on the double doors at the front of the room. “I’ll be back in a moment. Mother, do try not to scare my guest.”

You watch in poorly concealed horror as Mel prances off, leaving you along with Ambessa. 

When you finally dare to look at her, she’s staring down at you with narrowed eyes and a set jaw. 

“So-”

She cuts you off with a hum. 

You sigh, eyebrows furrowing as you begin to plead with her. 

“Ambessa, I can explain,”

“No need.” 

Your stomach drops. She’s pissed, and there’s not shit you can do about it. 

She walks forward, leaning down to whisper in your ear just as Clara had moments ago. 

“Tonight, half-past 10. My quarters.”

With that, she walks away, shoulder brushing yours as she leaves to stand there with you face running pale. 

Your eyes are trained on the flickering candles adorning the table in front of you as you imagine what she has planned, what she might say to you, what she might do to you-

“Your champagne, miss.”

Clara interrupts your train of thought with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

You turn to her, forcing a smile. 

“Might we get something stronger?”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

It’s 10:29 when you arrive at the intricately carved wooden door to Ambessa’s room. She was already upset; you wouldn't dare have her wait on top of it.  

You raise your hand to knock on the solid wood, hand pausing in the air. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and leave a soft knock on the door.

It opens in an instant, Ambessa peering down at you with an icy glint in her eyes. 

She takes a deep breath of her own, gaze unyielding as she cocks her head to the side, motioning towards the room behind her and stepping aside to let you in.

The moment you step over the threshold, the door slams behind you, and you, into it.

Ambessa’s hold is firm on your hips, pressing you into the door. 

“Have fun tonight, darling?”

Her breath fans your face. You look up at her with wide eyes and racing heart. 

“It was… fine,” you whisper, breath shaky. 

She pulls her head back with an cocked brow. 

“Shared a few drinks with her, hm?” 

“It was just… courtesy.” 

Her hands drop from your waist, and she walks away with a scoff and a crooked smile.

“A flute of champagne is courtesy. Liquor denotes something else entirely.” 

Your shoulders sag in defeat. “I just-” 

you sigh, 

“I just wanted to take the edge off a bit. You made me nervous.” 

She smirks. 

“Aw,” she croons, strolling back over to you. She stops in front of you, lifting your chin with her forefinger and thumb and demanding your eyes meet hers. 

“I make you nervous?” 

Your eyes flick down to her soft lips, then back up to her eyes. 

“You know you make me nervous.”

You dare to raise a brow at her.

“You like it.” 

Her smirk drops. 

“You've been playing with fire tonight, dear.”

Her hand moves to hold the back of your neck, and she pulls you in until your lips barely touch hers.

“I don't want to hear you complain that you got burned.”

Her lips slam into yours. You gasp when the hand on the back of your head weaves into your hair and tugs; she uses the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. 

Ambessa does everything with intent-with purpose- kisses included. There was no such thing as a haste peck on the lips, a fleeting kiss on the forehead; each and every touch she delivered to you said something.

Tonight, her touch says, “You're mine. No one else’s.”

She finally pulls away, leaving you breathless under her composed gaze. The corner of her lips pull up into a smirk. She always got a kick out of this; slowly unraveling you while she remained entirely unphased. 

You should feel embarrassed. You love it. 

“On the bed,” she commands, releasing her grip on your hair, “and strip- that’s Noxian silk. We can't have you ruining it.” 

You can't help but chuckle- remembering Jayce’s own comment about the luxurious material- as you lean down to take your heels off. Normally, she'd do this for you; kneeling down to undo the tiny buckle on the straps of your heels before sliding them off of your feet, moving up to pull the zipper of dress down while planting a kiss on your shoulder, asking you to give her twirl when you're finally left barren except for the delicate lingerie she would have gifted you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you won't be allowed the luxury of her delicateness.

Goosebumps appear on your skin as you make your way to the bed, knowing you're in for one hell of a ride. Ambessa could be so gentle with you, but she could be equally as rough and unforgiving, and as she pulls a vibrator out from the drawer next to her bed, you know you're about to find out just how unforgiving she can be. 

“A-Ambessa…” you stutter, crawling back against the pillows against the headboard. 

She didn't usually start with a vibrator. She knew the immediate intensity of its stimulation was often too much to begin with, so she'd spend her time working you up before she thought about retrieving it. 

She didn't give a damn about that tonight. 

“What's the matter, dear? Regretting your bad behavior already?” 

“Ambessa, it really wasn't what you-” 

“Truthfully,” she cuts you off with a glare, “I don't really care to hear any excuses.” 

She places the vibrator next to you. She's also gathered a few restraints: two to tie your hands to the headboard, and two to tie your ankles to the footboard. 

“You know that I've never been fond of sharing my possessions, dear,” she begins, tying your first hand to a rung. “Surely, this isn't news to you.” 

She restrains the other, then moves down to restrain your feet.

You're starfished on the soft comforter now, rendered completely helpless and at her disposal. 

Just as she wanted you.

She climbs onto the bed, running a hand up your leg. 

“Surely, you knew what would happen if you decided to test me as you did,” she muses.

She runs a finger through the slick that's already begun to collect in between your legs. A shiver courses through you again.

“Or was this your plan all along? Hm?”

Her hand trails up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts, and stops around your throat. She leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You wanted to be fucked like a common whore tonight, didn't you?” 

You don’t have time to respond before she turns on the vibrator, pressing it to the swollen bud of nerves at your center. You yelp as your body betrays you, hips bucking up into the already overstimulating sensation.

“Shit, Bessa, ‘m sorry,” you cry out, looking up at her with pleasing eyes. 

Of course, her only response is a maniacal laugh. 

“Begging for me to go easy on you already? My darling,” she croons, leaning down to place a kiss on your jaw, “we’ve only just begun.”

She turns the vibrator up to the next setting. Tears have already begun to prick your eyes. 

Yeah. You were screwed alright. Royally screwed. 

As soon as your hips stop spasming on the the vibrator placed at your core- as soon as you start to catch your breath- she turns up the intensity, until she’s tortured you through all of its seven settings. She doesn’t bother letting up after you come, just watches you pull and flail against your restraints as your pussy clenches around nothing.

The line between needing her inside of you and needing her to stop all together is starting to blur like your teary vision. Your breath comes out in fast pants, eyebrows furrowed as the pleasure bleeds into pain. 

Her commanding voice pulls you out of your daze.

“Color?” 

When you don’t respond quickly enough- too busy trying to come back to earth just long enough to find your words- she pulls the toy away. 

As unrelenting as she could be, Ambessa was never cruel with you; she’d never cross a line or cause harm to you. 

Her hand comes to rest on your cheek, wiping away stray tears as your breath begins to even.

“Green,” you finally exhale with a crooked smile.

She gives you a smirk of her own. “Dirty girl.”

She reaches up to loosen the restraints on your wrists, fingers tracing the delicate skin to be sure it isn’t too irritated. She moves down to your ankles to do the same, but you’re too tired to change your positions, limbs still splayed out for her. 

“Have I tired you, dear?” She coos. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, hand finally coming down to brush a stray hair from your face. Your eyes flutter closed, the world around you becoming fuzzy. You hear the faint sound of her drawer opening and closing- she’s putting the restraints away, you presume- before the weight of her knees on either side of your hips presses into to mattress. 

“You’ve done so good,” she praises, pressing kisses to your face. The touch is a stark contrast to the hands that suddenly grip your sides, flipping you to lay on your stomach. Your eyes fly open, and roll right back into your head when she grabs a handful of your hair, yanking you flush against her chest. Your hands reach out to the headboard, stabilizing you as she delivers a smack to the swell of your ass.

“It’s such a shame when good girls misbehave.”

You hadn’t realized all the rummaging she’d been doing was her putting the strap on, until you feel the dull head of the silicone press against your entrance. 

You hiss, still all too sensitive from your first punishment.

“Ambessa, I c-”

“Do not tell me that isn’t exactly what you anticipated when you decided to thow yourself onto another woman while I was a mere 30 feet away.”

You don’t respond. You knew better than to lie. 

“Color,” she demands.

“Green,” you whine. 

She presses your head into the pillow below you, and your hips arch up into her own. She guides the toy into your sopping walls, slow and careful to be sure you adjust to her length.

The pace she sets is anything but. Both hands find your hips as her own snap into you. She pulls you back to meet each thrust, the tip of her cock brushing your cervix each time.

You're a babbling, drooling mess underneath her. 

“B-Bessa… ‘s so deep… fuck, you're deep…”

A hand moves up to splay across your back, deepening your arch so that she can fuck into you further.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, a headboard slamming into the wall, your moans and mewls, her grunts and groans. She had no shame in claiming what was hers. 

She leans over, heavy breaths fanning your ear. 

“Remind me who you belong to.”

Your eyes roll back in your head again, pussy clenching around her in response to the question. She delivers another slap to your ass. 

“Speak when you are spoken to, girl.”

“Y-you!” you finally cry out. “I belong to you, I’m yours, ‘m all yours…”

She pulls back with a chuckle before pulling out of you, ripping the harness off of her waist and thighs. She crawls beside you, laying on back with her arms behind her head on the plush pillows. 

“You know what to do. Put that pretty mouth to good use.”

You scramble to place yourself in between her legs and bury yourself into her sweet musk. Your tongue darts out to draw slow circles on her clit, nose resting on the mound of curls adorning her. 

Her scent is intoxicating, her taste is ambrosia; you moan into her, and she moans back, hand flying to your head to keep you in place. 

“Your fingers,” she instructs, and you slip into her, meeting no resistance. You lap at her eagerly, fingers pumping in and out in tandem with the flick of your tongue on her clit. It isn't long before her burly thighs tighten around your head, and her release coats your chin. 

You pull away once she relaxes, staring down starry-eyed at the mess she's made. 

“Have some decorum,” she scolds; but when your eyes snap up to her face, she sports that lazy grin you can't get enough of. 

She beckons you to sit in between her legs, and you happily oblige with a chuckle. You lean against her strong chest, and she leans down to press a kiss against your temple. A comfortable silence settles over the room as her fingers trace up and down your arm. 

“I'm aware that you had no true interest in that woman,” she says softly. 

You hum in amusement.

“I’m also aware,” she continues, “That if you had been interested, it'd be none of my concern.”

You crane your head up to give her a confused look.

She shrugs. “You haven't been made mine. Not officially.”

You pause for a moment, reading her expression. If the longing you think you see in her eyes is really there, then it's about time you two had this conversation. 

“I want to be yours,” you whisper. “If you'll have me.”

“Don't be ridiculous,”

and your heart drops, until, 

“Of course, I'll have you. It'd be an honor to call you mine.” 

A wide smile stretches across your face, and her large hand cups your cheek as she pulls you in for a kiss, tender and loving.

You pull away, lips still gracing her own. 

“We’ll have to tell Mel…” you dare to whisper.

She scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes before her lips begin to trail down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. She plants a hand on your thigh, grabbing at the plush before snaking it toward your heat. 

“Let me give you one more before we think about that.”

End ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Taglist: @kierancaust, @langedelalune, @vii-v, @genderfluidlesbain999, @sevikasrightboob, @leone007, @femliyah, @tojisbestslut, @vyvvycg

[smileymoth]

Hermitcraft is like a medical malpractise central to me bc nobody has training in being a doctor (beside Gem maybe)

If you get injured/get ill your choices are: 1) chug 10 vials of health regen and hope it does something 2) die and hope you come back right 3) choose one of the other hermits to take care of you which could go in multiple different ways::

Docm can fix up your technical things and if you have any robot limbs or parts he will help you with those but otherwise I feel like he would make it worse. Like I know this guy has done self surgery. So if you're on good terms with him you could go to him and hope that you don't come out of surgery with a tracking chip planted in you or wires in your brain

Cub could probably help you. But you need to be prepared that he's going to do it in the most unconventional ways possible and theres a 1 in 4 probability it'll cause you 10 other problems that leave you dependent on him bc he needs to fix those as well now. Also be prepared for all your confidential information about your body to be shared with Scar. Somehow the most safe option in my opinion. but watch out

Gem.... With smaller problems I feel like she could help you, but you have to beg her for it because she will think you can just walk it off. Sometimes she's right, other times you'll end up at Cub's. She does know wound care. And it's proper wound care too. She'll want to duel you first tho before she helps you bc she think's it's fun and #payment

Grian can only help you if you're a hybrid, but barely. He knows more theory than practise. Do not go to him with your problems. He will make them worse somehow.

Skizzleman knows probably too much about wound care. Like all hermits have basic knowledge of immediate wound care but I feel like he would know the best. I feel like he's also a guy who has probably stitched himself up so he knows how to do sutures. He's surprisingly gentle despite him having large hands that possible couldn't do anything so delicate.

Zedaph knows some things. He knows how to do surgery. He just doesn't like doing them. He's deeply uninterested. Even though I would probably trust him more than Cub or Docm because he doesn't seem like a guy who would sabotage you on a medical level. I think he would reroute you to Cub instead without any malice.

If you have issues with your Code please go to Tango. He will probably help you fix those. He would really want to try to fix your medical problems with fiddling around with code but most of the time he starts whining and gets pathetic about it because he's scared he's gona hurt you

Only go to Cleo if you have ripped off a limb and it didn't reattach itself when you respawned. She knows how to stitch you up. She will do it without any anesthetics or painkillers so you'll have to go through with it since she wants to be sure that she connected the nerves right. If you go to her with anything else she will look at you like you're insane

[sturnslutz]

longing

2k words, cursing, fluff mainly, the start of something new, it feels so right, to be here with you, ohhhhh!!!! (high school musical reference and if u didn't get it, pls educate urself bc matt and goldie both have a unknowing love for high school musical)

you hated being an outsider. sure, it was nice to get some quiet time to study, or to edit your pictures. but other times, it was just plain lonely.

photography has been your passion for who knows how long. you had begged your parents for a camera when you were younger, and you loved taking pictures. it was something you were good at, and you loved doing it.

when you learned that one of the triplets had joined the photography club as another member, you couldn't believe it. you were the first and only member of the club for most of high school, but nick joining made it even better.

you and nick quickly became friends, and he loved the fact that the both of you were so passionate about photography and that he has someone else that he could geek over taking pictures with.

it didn't take long for him to tell you almost everything about him. you had already known somewhat about him, because how couldn't you? his brothers were some of the most known people in the school.

matt and chris. star lacrosse players. the ones who first started the lacrosse team. once their team grew, which was oddly quick, you were quickly called to start taking pictures for the school website, the team instagram, the yearbook, etc.

that's how your crush on matt became. he was beautiful, and he moved with such ease. he was both goalie and defense and you took the most pictures of him, without even realizing it.

once nick and you became friends, he quickly caught on to your crush on his brother. it was blatantly obvious, anyway. whenever matt had passed by you and nick talking in the halls, sometimes sparing a small glance at you, nick saw how you traced matt's movements with your eyes.

nick wasn't against it at all either, more so trying to get the both of you together. more likely the whole school knew about matt and his messy past relationship with his ex, violet. she was the school "mean girl" as some call it. she just loved attacked the quieter kids, and that included you.

matt and her have been together and broken up more times than people can count, and some even have a bet on when they're getting back together. this time is currently the longest they've been broken up, and it's been about 4 weeks. it's clear that violet has been trying to get matt's attention again, but you've noticed he isn't really reciprocating it.

"she's like all over him again. he was telling me how he's getting so fucking annoyed and- fuck sorry this sandwich is too good." nick said as took a bite out of his turkey sandwich while talking. you two were currently at the local cafe, one that everyone goes to whenever they're free.

"don't choke on me now, i don't know the heimlich." you giggled softly before taking a small sip out of your iced coffee. "knowing that if i choke and possibly die, and the most you can do is just stare at me hurts my soul, goldie. cmon now." he exaggerates as he shakes his head, before taking another bite.

"but as i was saying, he's sick of her. he wants them to be officially done, and he's told her, but she just keeps ignoring him. you would be so much better for him, i'm telling you." you sigh, looking down at your cup, swishing it around softly.

"we don't even know each other like that, and i doubt he even knows who i am." nick scoffs, laughing. "he knows who you are, bitch. i talk about you all the fucking time with them, you guys just need to actually talk, he'll warm up to you soon enough."

you shrug softly, looking around at the people around you. "i don't know. you know i will freeze if i ever talk to him, to anyone really." he laughs, nodding. "trust me, i know. remember first day i walked into photo club and you looked at me like you saw a ghost? had me overthinkin' and thought i had shit on my face."

you were about to say something, but the cafe door opened, the bell on top ringing indicating someone entered. you and nick both turned to look curiously, and your heart dropped.

matt, chris, violet, and some other lacrosse players and some of violet's friends walk in, them all loud in conversation. nick turned around, eyes wide. "i did not know they were going to be here. fuck-" his words are interupted as chris yells his name loudly, getting some stares from others in the cafe.

"nick! we didn't know you would be here!" he says as he walks over, ruffling up nick's hair a bit, before looking up at you. his face twists a bit in confusion but stays silent. "um, you're... maddie? no- wait. sophia? fuck no. i'm sorry, what's your name?" he asks, genuinely a bit embarrassed that he didn't know your name, or even nickname.

"her name's goldie. and can you guys not walk over here? we were having a private conversation." nick says, answering for you. chris smiles a bit at you at the remembrance of your name, giving you a small nod before looking down at nick. "didn't mean to interrupt, my bad. matt's probably gonna say hi, then we'll leave you alone."

you look up once again, past chris, seeing matt walking over. violet trails behind him, seemingly talking to matt but he's just ignoring her. he meets your eye for a second as he's walking over, before breaking it and looking at chris and nick.

nick looks at you again, having an apologetic look in his eyes. your heart begins racing, and you can't miss the way heat rushes to your face, before desperately drinking your iced coffee, something cold to at least try to bring the heat down a bit.

"yo, what's up kid." matt mutters as he pats nick's back, slightly turning his head to see if violet is still behind him, and when she is, he rolls his eyes, gaining a small snicker out of chris.

matt looks over at you, with almost the same confused face chris had, but he talks. "you're goldie right? we have pre calc together." he says softly, examining you. your face is probably red as a beet right now, but you still manage to nod. "y-yeah. we do." he nods, looking over you once more, smiling softly before engaging in a bit of small talk with chris as violet remains glued behind him. "that drink looks good as fuck, goldie. what is that?" chris says abruptly, but softly not to spook you.

"um, it's the iced vanilla coffee with extra caramel." chris looks at matt, who's looking at you, nodding. "that sounds really good." matt says softly, running a hand through his hair before looking down at his phone for something.

nick looks at you with wide, happy eyes and smiles. you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before looking back down into your drink, the ice seemingly becoming more interesting than everything else.

matt says something to nick before talking to you again. "me and chris are gonna go buy some shit then we'll leave. nice seeing you, goldie." he says, before walking away with chris. you nod, smiling up at him as your eyes follow after him. what you didn't notice was violet's glare at you as matt walked away, before she quickly followed after him.

nick lets out a quiet, high pitched squeal, grabbing your right hand tightly. "you talked to him! that's such a big step, gold. and he knew who you were, and recognized you. im freaking out for you." you giggle softly, nodding. "i know, im probably as red as a fucking cherry though."

he shrugs. "who even cares. not like they haven't blushed before. did you see violet's face when he was talking to you?" you shook your head. "she was looking at me? i didn't even notice." you say softly, smiling at your joke. nick laughs, "she's such a fucking attention seeker, always starting shit for no reason. i'll watch out for you, though. who knows what that wicked bitch could do."

your eyes drift back to matt, and watch him as the barista called his name. "matt, medium iced vanilla coffee with extra caramel!" that's the exact same thing you got. matt looks over a bit, feeling someone's stare on him. once he notices it's you, he smirks a bit, taking a sip of the drink and nodding, before turning back around to his friends.

"he got the same thing i got." you whisper so quietly, nick almost didn't hear you. "what?" he said, as your eyes look back over to him. "chris asked me what drink i got, and matt said it sounds really good, and he ordered the same thing. when he noticed i was looking, he smirked and nodded. that can't be a fucking coincidence, right?"

nick shakes his head no while smiling. "maybe he's longing for you too."

a little bit after that, matt and chris and their friends head out, nick and you leaving a short time after that. you were currently in bed, doing some homework while on facetime with nick. "i just had the craziest fucking idea, and you might hate me for it." nick says, after some silence between you two.

"i won't hate you, what is it?" you say, paying no real attention to him as your fingers continued typing virgoursly across the keyboard. "when i came home, matt and chris were talking about him and violet, and chris was saying how matt needs to date someone else, and matt said something along the lines of, "i mean i think i'm ready, i just don't know who it would be. every girl in the school is friends with violet." so guess who i thought of? you. you aren't friends with her!"

nick's words spike interest in your head, as you look over at him with a confused look. "okay.. and your point is?" nick set up his phone on his desk, smiling. "i want to give matt your number."

you stop typing completely, with your breath caught in your throat. "no, nick. absolutely no way." "cmon, goldie! just hear me out. i mention to him i have a friend he could be interested in, and i give him your number. but the twist is, i don't tell him who you are."

"how the fuck is that going to work? he's never gonna talk to some girl who he doesn't even know." nick tsks, shaking his head. "he has a secret he doesn't tell anyone, not anyone besides me and chris. he loves that slowburn, mystery shit. y'know the movies where it's like longing and sappy romance shit? he loves that. actually obsessed with it, even. so i don't have any doubt he'll actually be against the idea."

"nick, i don't know. is that not weird?" you say softly, fidgeting with your hair. "relax, it's not. and i'll even tell him that you know, and it's only him that doesn't. it'll give you both the opportunity to get to know each other, and you won't be as scared as much to talk to him. who knows, maybe it'll be love." he smirks as he moves his eyebrows, as you let out a little laugh.

"okay, fine. let's do it." nick cheers. "okay, when i go back downstairs, i'll ask to talk to him privately so it won't be weird in front of chris. knowing matt, he'll probably be just a teensy bit hesitant, but i'll get him to warm up to it. this is going to be great, goldie."

"yeah, let's hope so." after a bit more time, nick hangs up, letting you know that he's going downstairs to go talk to matt.

after about 20 minutes, your phone vibrates. you still, not making a move to check it yet, but when another text comes in, you can't help yourself.

***-***-**** | 23:43

"hey mystery girl"

"it's matt but u prob know that already"

divider creds: @sisterlucifergraphics

taglist 1: @muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss

[flying-cat]

Thank you for being delusional agreeing with me Till is definitely alive we're all correct can't wait to celebrate when we see him alive next episode 🙏

Till is in color with Mizi and Luka while Ivan, Sua, and Hyuna are all in black and white. Okay!

[magexii]

thinking abt the svsss miraculous au so heavily rn.

rambling under read more

I had been thinking abt butterfly sqh/peacock mbj but. I am a fool. Airplane with the Peacock miraculous is everything, actually. omfg. it was right in front of my eyes this whole time.

@jam13333 had a great idea abt butterfly!sqh creating akumas through his writing which IS GENIUS. but . peacock!sqh doing his writing and creating sentis through it. It just makes so much sense. in canonverse he literally created the entire world they live in, including the people. I like how much the peacock would give him the ability to shape the world around him.

binghe is definitely one of his creations still. THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS!!! omfg. I cannot get into all of my feelings about this rn.

I like moshang being partners but I cant really picture butterfly!mbj I don't think he would care enough to be a good villain LMFAO.

however. @carlosateaworm had mentioned butterfly!shen jiu and NOW THATS AN IDEA I CAN GET BEHIND!!!! sy and sj are definitely related somehow in this au too although I don't wanna say they're blood brothers who were raised together bc I like the idea of sj being one of sqh's senti's too. he would have no clue.

I realllllly like the idea of airplane being in control of so much behind the scenes, maybe even to an extent he's unaware of?

also cumplane would definitely still be frenemies as civilians. bc I cannot resist their dynamic.

sorry I don't have any drawings for this rn. its finals and I've been awake like 36 hours. but I will continue to rotate this au around in my mind forever.

[luigilore]

I want drunk, hot, sensual sex with roommate!Luigi, where you both come home from some uni party and you just start kissing, and from there it just all goes downhill, or may I say uphill. And he's so focused on your pleasure, but you just want to repay the favor and give him all that he's asking for. You know, that kind of tension that was built for weeks and months during your shared flat and you actually think he's not that into you because he's always so nice and nonchalant and gives you space and is there for you and just listens to you and all your rambles but when he sees you on that one night in your red dress with your curves it all just makes sense for him.

- 🍋

STOPPPP omg hii

ugh luigi would be such a sweet roommate and very respectful like and it actually annoys you how cute he is and it would feel domestic so easily... you go grocery shopping together and sometimes sit out together in the living room he'll cook dinner while you're studying; you'll light your sandlewood candle and he'll put some tv show on and ramble about his classes </3

imagine he invites u to a formal or a semi for his frat so it's a bit more dressy and you do buy a new dress for this lol. and after you get ready and walk out of ur room he'd be waiting in the living room like :0. in his paisley tie... can't and doesn't stop himself from immediately saying 'you look gorgeous'

he'd be sneaking very obvious glances at you the entire night and there is an open bar tab i fear... luigi would bring you a drink and wrap an arm around your waist as you're talking to his fellow brothers lol and they definitely think you're dating. he'd offhandedly mention 'our apartment' and one of their dates is like 'oh you live together? that's so sweet' and luigi just laughs and doesn't correct them... now you're like ohhh!! haha i feel like tipsy/drunk he would be so chatty and clingy

omg you'd get back home and you'd both be laughing and you keep drinking together it's like 3 am atp, on the couch, and bc you're drunk you'd be like 'yeah i actually thought you really didn't like me at first.' and luigi looks at you with a very visible frown and furrowed brows, his lips would part, letting out a barely audible, soft, 'what?' ugh he would be so cute drunk sorry like brings an actual hand to his heart, 'i could never' so emphatically lol... adding a quieter, 'i like you so much."

you just say, 'good to know,' with a smile and you let yourself lean your head on his shoulder and he'd look down at you you'd look up <3 and his hand would come to gently cup your jaw and would kiss you a bit suddenly. it would be quick, he pulls away just a bit to see your reaction but ur like ??? u cant just do that and pull away so you kiss him! omg imagine how consuming he is hovering over you, hand sliding up your thigh, bunching up ur dress bc ur still in ur stuffy formal clothes...

nsfw under the cut

ooo ur right he'd be so concerned with making sure u actually feel good. he would kiss down your neck, a bit sloppy not very coordinated but yes so sensual like his hands are so big and warm and he run down your body, slightly massaging, and he'd just randomly mumble 'you're so beautiful'

would most certainly ask, 'feel good?' when he's eating u out... would moan maybe when you just kind of brazenly tug a bit on his curls. even hooking up drunk i feel like he would be so slow and careful and praising... omfg imagine he has like slight stubble too please and ik this really has been debriefed at length lol but his nose guys. and that damn female pleasure book!

the idea of his body weight barely hovering over u while you have sex, kinda tired and languid but so gentle- resting some or a lot of his body weight on you and taking his time... eye contact too!!!

also what if ur like... 'let me swallow 😇' he would die. omg i also just think if he was drunk he would be so uninhibited sound wise. giving him head esp drunk frat bro college him like pleaseeee he'd be very loud and very smitten <3

[jjjjeonww]

so…! i’ve made a decision. after everything i’ve been going through irl, i’m going to quit tumblr. i know this may seem sudden; and that you think “oh! but you seem fine yuna!” but i’m actually not fine. i’ve been going through a lot silently (for years now, since like the age of 10-12..) and i don’t think tumblr will help me with my mental health. yes; it’s my safe space, somewhere i would go to when no one was there for me. but now, i think i need to face the real challenges, i can’t have tumblr being my safe space anymore. please know that i still love my 181 followers. each and every single one of you are so special to me.

to my mutuals, you all have done so much for me, and i’m grateful for that. i’m grateful for whatever tumblr has given and granted me. i’m sorry that i’m leaving - though i don’t think anybody would really be affected by my leaving - i still apologize. i hope that maybe one day, just one day, i can come back. come back to this, come back to the love i’ve been getting.

to: @gyubakeries

tiya, you were my first mutual here, and i remember how you greeted me with open arms and such kindness, and i’ll remember that forever my fav gyuldaengie🤍 and i guess i’ll not be seeing that woozi fic, sigh. it’ll be in my heart though, and you’ll be in my heart too.

to: @96z

naya!! im not sure if you’ll see this but when i went to the waterpark - nothing leaked, your advice worked <3 i love you for that, i love you always🩵

to: @kwonienana

my make out sesh partner!! my nana!! i’m sad i wont see the 3rd part to unsent!woozi, but i’ll imagine that reader n him have a good ending. i love you so so so so much, please remember that my delusional-texted-hoshi-on-insta-girl💋

to: @jooyeonsvape

amb, my favourite jooyeon stan, i was so glad to have met another villain on tumblr. and i was glad it was someone so sweet and so kind. i love your fics, every one of them, and i love you. ❤️

to: @studioeisa

kae, my favourite 8star!! i have always loved every single one of your works, and i’m glad that i met a carat-villain, even glader (thats not a word but) that it was you. you were so kind to me, so sweet, so loving. i think now, whenever i see gunil, i’ll think of you. 💚

to: @antoncore

cee!! i loved discussing and talking to you about … riize’s … sizes…💜 (hey that rhymes!) when i first met you, i had no idea that you were secretly this freaky, and to think that you r so cute😭 (personality n looks!) i love you my favourite anton stan💕

to: @chenlezip

anna! my cutie, the woozi fic you wrote for me - i loved it so much. i think i’ve read it daily this week, i’ll never forget it, and i will never ever forget you my darling🤍 (and the jaem series bc WTF I LOVED IT SMM)

to: @seokminfilm

LYR!!! i guess i’m never getting that down bad seok fic huh?? hehe - it’s fine. i just loved talking to you about it, and i thank you once again, for making me one of the main characters in your fic, and a thank you for making mingyu down bad in that fic🤭 i love u my lyric🩶

to: @wonkierideul

this… this one was really hard to write. nini, out of all of my moots - i have to say you’re my favourite. i’m sorry to all the others, but you have a special place in my heart. you’ll always have a special place in my heart. i’m sorry we never got to vc properly, i’m sorry for all the things i’ve done that have pissed you off. i’m sorry, for leaving you. i’ll see you when i see junhui. and, when i see soonhoon, i’ll smile, but feel a pain in my heart, knowing that was once us, not anymore though.

to: @starstrawb

my silly squirrel, i thank you for all of the kind words you’ve said to me, i thank you for all of the good morning and good night messages, all of the ‘checking up on you’ messages. i thank you for everything, the love, the adoration, everything that you’ve given me. i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the same kind of love, but just know i tried my absolute best. 🐿️

to: @kissbyoon

another one that was hard to write. liza, the jeonghan who loves to annoy the woozi, i loved getting annoyed by you, i always did. i loved every single moment with you, even your most delusional ones. i hope you know that i love you. i hope you know that sadly - i’ll not be coming back. maybe i will. maybe i wont. most likely i wont. i’m sorry to say i wont be coming back like how jeonghan is. and please lili, dont wait for me like you’re waiting for jeonghan and wonwoo. it pains me to know that.

to: @gyuwrites

for some reason, we started off as mutuals who just followed each-other, then a stupid anon came in and ruined my chances of actually getting to know you. that’s one of my biggest regrets. maybe in another life we could meet again, and start off good that time. thank you for your support ashley. 💙

to: @noircheols

seilah, thank you for yapping to me, thank you for trusting me with your rants. and just overall, thank you for trusting me. i’ll remember our little yap sessions, where we talked shit, where we vented, where we just… yapped together. it felt right. but me leaving you? it doesn’t. i hope you get a job soon, just know i’ll always be praying for you. 🖤

to: @vernons-wifey12

renee, thank you for the daily horanghaes, i think you were my first ever dolly stan, apart from @/rosiemain and @/seokminfilm. i really enjoyed the time when we were enjoying eachother’s virtual presence, i love you my vernon💗

to: @rosiemain

my roro, i’ll miss you so much. if i could give you a hug, i really would. but for now - does a virtual hug work? 🫂. you’re my favourite woozidan, my absolute favourite. i once said i would never want to find another woozidan ( to @/hanniescookie ) but i’m glad i have. i’m sorry our time of friendship together was so short. i’m rooting you get your boy, and i hope ‘🦢’ gets run over by a truck. i love you forevermore my girl.

to: @hanniescookie

and yet, another hard one. augustine. oh, i didn’t know leaving you would be this hard. i don’t know. i don’t know what i would do without you. your words were the main reason i kept going. no actually, YOU were the main reason i kept going. no matter how fat i felt, how insecure i was, your words broke through them. and you broke down the wall i had built just to get closer to me, i’m sorry to say that now, the wall has been renewed, and there’s no way to destroy it now. i’ll love you my jeonghan to my wonwoo. and i’ll remember you, always and forever.

to: @seokmn

and yet another moot who i have barely gotten to know. thank you for reblogging my jiung smau <3 i hope you can find a boyfie that’s just like loser boy jiung hehe 🐍

to: @honeyhae-svt

미안해, 아내야. 이렇게 일찍 떠나서 미안해. 우리가 서로에게 보낸 음성 메모가 즐거웠어요 ㅎㅎ . 그리울거야. 진짜. 사랑해요. 정말 많이. 나를 잊지마 내 예쁜 소녀야 ㅋㅋㅋㅋ 사랑해☹️💓

to: @dokyumms

my texas girlie, pls pls pls think of me when someone mentions young sheldon🤓🤓 but really, legit thank you for becoming moots with me, it was such an honour!! i’ll never forget you. never. this - i swear. i love u lovie💖

to: @kyeomviiee

oh my sweet sweet kae. thank you for all the moodboards you have made me. i hope your break is going well, i hope u think of me hehe😛 but really, take good rest love, i’ll be by your side, just think i’m there with you. 💞

to: @polarisjisung

another moot who i wanted to get to know but sadly did not. thank you for following me, i have no idea why you!! hua!! would follow some one like me but hey i aint complaining <3 take good care of anna for me💜

to: @iamdkayyyyy

thank you for your playlist, and for the wonwoo fic, i really really loved both of it🤍 you are soo soo soo soo kind, and i really love you for that. thank you for everything soumaya🌹

let me take a breather.

and now - to the rest of the people who have supported me, thank you. for everything. literally everything. i love EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. YOU. no matter what you’ve done to me. thank you for all the joy you’ve brought to me on tumblr.com !! my journey on here will be marked in my heart as my favourite journey.

thank you, and this is @jjjjeonww signing off. good night, good evening, good afternoon, and good morning to all of you.

(i’ve gotten questions about whether some people can still publish some works they have made for me and my answer is yes, you can still publish it.)

[strwberri-milk]

ahh omg ive always wanted to do one of these tytyty!!! <3 tossing in some of my older lesser known fics too in here as a promo <33

now im realising how hard this actually is LMAOO i had to search through my entire drive files to parse thruogh and find some of these lolol my excerpts are a little longer for some bc i wanted the context to shine through [sob]

my words were!: abandon, reckless, breath, gaze, gesture

and to you, dear reader who wishes to partake i offer anybody:

Banquet

Desperate

Suffer

Turmoil

Engage

Bloomed Flowers: (Obey Me!Beelzebub x OC)

Rin nods to herself, agreeing with that. The last time she was touched in any sort of explicit manner was weeks ago, back at her old location of service. It’s most likely just her touch starvation kicking in mixed in with [abandon]ment issues. It wasn’t as though she fell in love with him. He barely gave her the time of day being busy planning this massive event. She didn’t even know why he was planning it. The staff all seemed excited, flitting about and planning what they’d wear even though it seemed to be months away. Some of them said things under their breath or to each other and all she could gather was that his brothers would be arriving to help celebrate his birthday.

Your Mark On The Universe: (Amber to Kaeya)

And not to mention the time you tried to come into work with a broken rib! How stupid of you was that? You’re just going to make the rest of us die with worry over you! Just because you’re my senior it doesn’t mean you get to make [reckless] decisions! You should think about what I’ve said! I guess this isn’t really part of the whole good memories thing and now I feel bad but I don’t want to scribble everything out, especially not about making you take better care of yourself so instead I will add a brief note to thank you. When I joined the Knights you were as friendly as someone like you could be, so I guess it made things a little easier even if it was an absolute pain to get used to your….quirks. 

Passing Hands: (Bridgerton!Diluc x Reader)

It’s exhilarating and terrifying to be in this position and he wants so much to make it more than whatever is happening right now. The meeting of your eyes makes his [breath] catch in his throat and he wants to lean down and bridge this gap that exists between the two of you but knows that he can’t. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, I’ve never even dreamed of feeling. I thought that this was all impossible, that it was some sort of charade that everybody took part in but this draw that you have, something that is impossible for me to escape from, it has to be that romantic notion of falling in love with someone. What else is it if not that?” he mutters against your lips, wanting so badly to just drop his head down a little more and kiss you.

Last Friday Night: (Motrocross!Sylus x Reader)

The engine cuts out behind you and you heave a sigh of relief, walking a little more relaxed for just half a second when someone clears their throat from behind you. Despite your better judgment you decide to give them your attention, turning around to meet an intensely scarlet [gaze]. Your breath catches in your throat, trying not to seem too distracted by the handsome stranger standing in front of you. 

Songs of Sorrow: (Rancher!Boothill x Fem!Reader)

You return the [gesture], wondering how she knew Boothill to feel so comfortable holding him the way she is. He doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to her as the two of them start to back out of the house. It looks like he’s telling her to go home, gently patting her shoulder with his hand. She pouts playfully, swatting at his chest but he doesn’t seem to respond in kind. It takes a second but she finally leaves, waving goodbye before looking at you through the window. You mouth a farewell to her, an unsettling feeling sitting in your stomach at the slight glance she gives you. 

Writing Tag Game 🏷️

Rules: I'll give you five words. Find the word (or the closest approximation you can) in your works and post an excerpt. Tag others to play and give them new words too!

My words were: Touch, Heat, Lick, Time, Ache — tagged by @oncasette, original post here! (This is such a sweet idea, thank you for thinking of me!!)

New words: Home, Dream, Hand, Think, Feel — Tagging: @solifloris @irandial @zara-renata @kentofic @grabby-smitten @comatosebunny09 @leighsartworks216 and anyone else who writes!

Touch

When Sylus touches you— when the tip of his finger catches yours and makes an honest, desperate request— you don’t pull away. Something inside tugs at you, warns you, tells you a monster without a sword in its chest is one that can bite. What colour of blood would your hands prefer? His? Your own? — (Monster)

Heat

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves. — (Technical Difficulties)

Lick

You’re feeling everything too keenly: the water licking at your throat, the darkness beneath you, around you, waiting to pull you under and fill your mouth. You never feel further from Rafayel than when you remember he calls that darkness home. — (Practice Makes Perfect)

Time

Pretend you have time: His gaze is full of faith and oh, the world is going to enjoy punishing the two of you. “I know,” he insists, because this is the second time you’ve fooled him tonight. You feel his hand on your face and you let him kiss you— again, then again— so achingly slow, so arrogant. The world can wait; he wants to punish you first.  — (To Remain Silent)

Ache

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood. Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. — (Perspective)

[campgender]

Hiiiiiii I was thinking about it the other day & I know you talk a lot about like, unlearning purity culture, all the terrible and complicated and strange (in a bad way) versions of sex that you've had, etc.

I've never asked before, I don't think: what do you like, get off to, what turns you on, etc etc.? Any particular bloggers (especially particular posts!) or SWers on here or Instagram that you really like?

I hope you're having a whimsical & sexy time out here <3

omg this is such a lovely question & one i've been turning over in my mind like a hard candy in my mouth since you sent it. (not about sex specifically, just in general) my husband says i'm really good at asserting "negative" boundaries (don't do X) & really bad at recognizing much less expressing positive boundaries (i need Y). this ask made me think about that — it's a lot easier for me to talk about things i wish people would stop doing than things i wish they would do, if that makes sense.

i also definitely get a weird fear of like, bragging or something? (as a fundamentalist kid i had a whole complex about not bragging oh my god) if i talk too much about the sex i'm having that's going well? which is probably not serving me bc i learned so much from other people's discussions of scenes that went well especially outside the like norm of represented dynamics if that makes sense.

all of which is to say i've been trying to give this question the consideration it deserves❣️ here's what i've got:

katherine angel writes that sex is a conversation, & i love to talk. i love the process of it, not in the sense of being scripted but the exact opposite, an uncovering, the act of learning more about someone, figuring out how we fit together.

i genuinely love negotiation, i think it can be a really intimate & connecting experience. i always feel so restored by negotiation "even" when it isn't followed by sex/scene with someone. a couple months ago someone said what we'd done was their new standard for negotiation & i'm still riding that high.

i love giving people gender euphoria! i love when someone says i make them feel butch or when someone tries new pronouns with me. whether it's through language or sexual position or dynamic or more intangible mystical energy shit — look, the secret is, i love making people feel good, it's just an urge that only expresses itself in specific ways, which exist outside most people's ideas of sexual giving, because it isn't physical.

how do i put this — idk if this makes sense, but — i am erotically interested in emotionally bolstering people, which can look a lot of different ways. a lot of the people i dom for feel sated or fulfilled or whatever you want to call it when they can let go of their carefully maintained "outside" persona and just be a mess, physically or emotionally or all around, so i've come to really value & respect that. looove when somebody wants me to make them cry. i think of it as a sort of homebound magic, being like, what can't you be in the world? & then building them the space to be it. Omise’eke Natasha Tinsley in The Color Pynk says Janelle Monaé's music video for "Pynk" built a rest stop for Black femmes; kind of a lofty goal but that's always what it comes back to for me, with art & with sex & with tumblr posting: building a rest stop.

(i feel like a bit of a femme cliché sometimes but whatever lol)

i love being surprised not by content but by feeling, & similarly i love moments when someone tells me they didn't know sex could be like that, that they could feel this way or that someone else could feel this way about them — could get off to their stomach or them fully clothed or whatever else they've been told isn't worthy of erotic interest.

recently a play partner was talking to me about how they've never encountered or heard of someone being genuinely as turned on as i am by watching someone practice their craft — not interrupting them to fuck but the work being the fucking. & i was like that before the pgad, in undergrad i burned alive watching this guy play the violin, but now if we want i can get off just looking. i love to look. & i love the intimacy of someone sharing some dear skill or part of themself for my use & pleasure, whether it's something they're proud of (tying rope; building model kits; assembling furniture) or something that challenges them (a favorite being to hold still).

more broadly i enjoy petplay & dollification & the whole consensual objectification vibe. & i 💖 making decisions for people & telling people what to do. love to give a little task when that's what somebody's into

i haven't been very active on my nsfw tumblr in a while bc i've been too much of a raw nerve & was getting upset by the overwhelming assumptions of domtop/sub bottom in queer & t4t spaces, so i'm pretty out of touch with most people's current content & urls, but i know i've loved @nylonguilt's work for years, & @blushedfemmes has long been the blueprint for high femme, dom bottom posting. oh & i recently discovered @dombottom4subtop! really great compilation of posts there

ty again for the ask❣️ as always would love to hear your thoughts 🫶

[jaynovz]

gotta peer review these tags too cuz I can't stop thinking about em

via @asgardian--angels

#yeah this is p close to how i think it probably is#i'm always on the fence with 1) when jayce figured out how he felt about viktor and 2) viktor's relationship with sex#bc while yes i agree that he likely had a more casual view of sex than jayce in the past when he was healthy- at the same time#i feel like there had to (unfortunately) be an element of... how people viewed him in this context. being from the undercity.#and/or being disabled and from the undercity. plus being rather reclusive but still dtf. like. there's a side of it where he must have#felt like (true or not) he was some sort of exotic lay for people who'd seek him out. and that created a level of distance#between him and developing further romantic feelings for anyone he slept with. a bit of resentment.#as for jayce im. still so on the fence about when he really realized his feelings for viktor as romantic bc i've heard good arguments#for many viewpoints. lmao the whole bisexuality demons in the ravine 'i've been confused about a lot lately'#BECAUSE THE STUPID 'BROTHER' LINE#i've heard a solid case for jayce legitimately thinking his love was brotherly until s2 events#i think the thing with mel is solid - that viktor wasn't making a move and jayce wasn't going to if viktor wasn't interested#so when mel did make an advance he took it#and then viktor definitely did not pursue it lmao. self-fulfilling prophecy you blind losersssss#esp as his illness progressed he had a worse view of his own body and his desirability plus wanted jayce to build a life outside of him#knowing he wouldn't be around soon and not wanting jayce to be shackled to him mourning him with no one else in his life#i havent actually taken a firm stance yet in my fic which........i should probably do that lol#bottom line i absolutely think they never kissed or anything in canon. at least not our prime timeline#went straight to marriage and skipped all previous steps#once they finally feel the full force of their love for each other in the astral plane the fucking yearning is off the charts#so much of their arcs is them suffering by themselves either to protect the other or from feeling cut off from the other#meta#jayvik#oh viktor arcane. desperate for genuine connection living in hellish solitude convinced that's how it has to be too afraid to change it

Demisexual Jayce and gray-romantic Viktor. That's the whole post.

[pineconepie]

I'm not sure if I've asked this before because I remember typing it but the wifi was unstable so just ignore this if I have already asked this, but I'm wondering how the yandads would be with a reader who has a major hyperfixation, I'm talking like hours upon hours of info dumping. These poor dads would have absolutely no escape from a yapper like this, like they talk so much that it gets into the way of plans, like for Vincent, they talk so long that it interrupts a meeting, and guess what it's all on? Absolute random facts on EVERYTHING they like just a little too much. (Defo not asking this bc your account has given me a bit of a hyperfixation- I swear I'm not stalking your account, I'm just autistic-)

As someone with AuDHD, I know how you feel, don't worry XD

Octavian has dealt with kids rambling before, he knows exactly how to handle this. He doesn't mind your rants one bit. They bring a small smile to his face as he patiently listens, nodding along while doing chores or putting his book down just to listen.

He's very good at remembering everything you tell him, and making mental notes about certain gifts he thinks you'll like based on your hyperfixations.

.

Vincent adores how you get passionate about your hobbies. It brings the biggest grin to his face. He'll make you your favorite snacks, pull out a seat for you, and gesture to you to come tell him about whatever it is you want to discuss, and would be good at engaging in the conversation to show he's listening.

He hates meetings more than anything, so if you infodump in the middle of said meeting, he'll make everyone listen to you as well, and if they say anything disrespectful they're getting fired (literally).

.

Indigo has some hyperfixations as well (namely seashells and humans), so he understands how happy it'll make you if he listens and engages in the conversation.

No matter what your hyperfixation is about, he would genuinely find it fascinating if you talked passionately. Though sometimes his attention span might be short, so there are a few times he may accidentally space out.

.

Magnus doesn't understand, but he really wants to. It makes him feel happy hearing you ramble about your hyperfixations because he's used to thinking purely of survival, its almost a breath of fresh air. He'll listen intently but still be confused very often, especially if its something only humans have an understanding of.

Still, he'd encourage you to talk about them. If your hyperfixation is something he can physically gift you (i.e. gems, flowers, bugs) he will seek them out for you.

.

Seradiel knows about them, of course, since he was watching you while you developed them. Seradiel would be the most intent listener, and wouldn't space out once (though on the downside, he's so quiet because he wants you to talk to your heart's content, that you might think he's spaced out).

He enjoys the sound of your voice, no matter what you're discussing.

.

Warren has plenty of patience to hear your rambles because he also genuinely enjoys them. He would sit beside you and engage with them, encouraging you to explain your interests further.

He'd do his own research on the topics and things you're passionate about so he can engage even more in the conversation with you and earn your approval more.

[sparklystarrrr]

Random Headcannons of my favs!

Synopsis: literally what the title said, it's completely random and I love my baby boys, more Hcs will be added on as I think of them

Contains: Riddle Rosehearts, Idia Shroud, Sebek Zigvolt

Riddle Rosehearts~

out of everyone (Ace, Deuce, Trey) from the Queendom of Hearts he's the only one with a British accent

he listens to either classical music or, if he's feeling a bit cheeky and rambunctious, I feel like he'd listen to Laufey or some of Frank Ocean's slower songs like "White Ferrari" in his free time

he had to ask Vil about where to get a good quality red eyeliner for his dorm uniform

he's always getting snipped in Cater's magicam pics and ends up in photo dumps where he looks kinda disformed (my man ain't always photogenic, unfortunately)

he knows how to play mainly string instruments but did fancy himself a trumpet in middle school

incredibly gullible to modern humor and doesn't understand it, then gets mad when ppl laugh at him for not understanding (almost exploded at a "ur mom" joke that Ace made "WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY MOTHER??!!")

treats the hedgehogs like his children

has his own way of being snarky and making jokes, and when he insults you he makes it BURN.

loses too many brain cells listening to Ace and Deuce trying to formulate an explanation on why they broke a rule

gets really bad headaches

hates playing Uno with a burning passion because someone always has a card up their ass and says they have Uno; the only card game he will never ever play but can't ban it from the dorm because there's probably a rule saying "all kinds of card games are to be played"

definitely bumped into one of his book shelves before and got burried under books

has a strawberry garden in the Heartslabyul garden somewhere

polishing his lil crown is part of his nightly routine

Idia Shroud~

has a GIANT family and they're all super affectionate w him (his yiayia gives him thousands of kisses on his cheeks and calls him her most handsome grandson and he just stands there not knowing what to do)

HE HAS A SLIGHT GREEK ACCENT BCS I SAID SO.(can you tell I love this man being Greek it makes my heart flutter)

him and Ortho have gaming nights and he likes to let Ortho win most of the time like they're still kids

when he takes a shower his fire extinguishes and his hair is kinda like Silver's except blue and has a slight wave in it, probably a lot messier too

if he loses to a game too many times he hacks the game to make it easier for him to win

uses AI for most of his assignments because Ortho won't help him, says it's better for him to do the work himself instead of relying on AI(obvi he does it anyways and Ortho finds out like a disappointed parent)

he has a sleeper build DON'T QUESTION ME ON THAT this man works with machinery like on the daily and ya'll say he's scrawny like NO I DISAGREE

he either ties his hair or clips it back a lot because he gets too annoyed at his hair when it's in his face

he bites his lips a lot whether out of anxiety or on accident, biting his tongue hurts like HELL

if the wifi or power cuts out he will go full blown panic mumbling mode

a fantastic flashlight

keeps painkillers, eye drops and chapstick in a drawer in his night stand but never goes in it

his hands and feet are so cold

he hides his hands in his hair to warm them up in winter

Sebek Zigvolt~

he rly does love his dad a lot, but his pride is much too big for him to say that

gets yelled at a LOT in class or in the library for being wayyy over the volume level

i feel like he can do really cool tricks while doing push-ups like clapping his hands behind his back or doing push-ups one handed

Malleus is over his devotedness and just prays every day that he can have some peace and quiet(he's one more Sebbie speech from striking him with a lightning bolt)

puts a pic of Malleus above his bed

has a plethora of dragon plushies in carrying sizes, shapes, colors and patterns

probably tries to commission someone to recreate the armor that peepaw Baur gave him in the dream

a lot of the students are scared of him because he's so loud, especially students with animal ears or something that gives them increased hearing(they hear him from more than a mile away... not fun for sensitive ears)

gets embarrassed really easily

had baby hands for the longest time

can't choose between pampering himself to look good as Malleus's knight or to pamper Malleus more than he already does and look gruff and beat up to be intimidating and manly

he does like Silver, he just cares about him in his own way(I saw something similar to this but I don't remember who drew it, but it was Sebek holding Silver up while he was sleeping again and I actually cried my baby boys are so cute)

he had to find a new horse for Equestrian club because the one he had when starting out in the club was too short and his legs touched the ground while sitting atop the horse

knows how to cook stuff but only things high in protein and made for strengthening

eats Lilia's cooking because he honors him too much and then has a stomach ache that feels worse than getting dragged on the burning floors of Hell

speaking of being sick, it's the only time he's remotely quiet. I don't mean he's not loud but he just can't talk at his normal decibel of speaking (everyone is praising the Lord)

i love my silly boys

[totalrager]

Bill prefers a more hands-on approach when it comes to gaming.

cw: set between late 90s/early 2000s, fem!reader, r is not a #gamergirl for plot purposes, ooc to the max bc bill isn’t allowed within 50 feet of the opposite sex :P

Nailed to the wooden door, painted in bold, red letters, is a giant sign that reads ‘NO GIRLS ALLOWED’.

“You break a single thing in here, and I’ll call the cops, I swear to god.”

“Great, anything else?"

“Touch my comics, and you’re dead.” 

The threat rolls off your shoulders as quickly as he said it.

It’s been like this ever since you walked through the front door.

After getting a call, at 2 a.m. might you add, Bill had been real adamant about you coming over; something about his usual visitors being 'too busy doing other stupid bullshit' and wanting to show off his mad skills at a new game he'd purchased.

Had you not been on the verge of falling back asleep, you would've called him on his shit and made him admit that he really just wanted to see you.

Regardless, and in hopes of putting an end to the semi-rantish call, you said yes.

Bill, having finally gone through his extensive rule list and coming close to having you sign a contract, unlocks the wooden door and pushes it open; the worn-out stairs squeak loudly as the two of you make your descent into the dark room.

As if it were second nature, he felt around in the air for a moment before yanking on a dangling cord. The only source of light reveals his magnum opus.

The basement was exactly as you pictured it.

Hanging on almost every wall that didn't have a giant bookshelf pushed in front of it, several shelves were bearing multiple miniature knick-knacks and large posters featuring what you assumed was every single sci-fi movie to have ever existed.

Towards one of the corners of the room was a beat-up table covered in a fictional map, surrounded by over a dozen mini figurines; a battle having clearly taken place the night before.

But what stuck out to you the most was that it was noticeably clean.

Y'know, for a guy.

Aside from the clutter of personal belongings that bordered on a novice level of hoarding, there was not a single speck of dust.

No crumpled papers, bits of plastic, fast food wrappers, or anything. You could be mistaken, but you’re almost positive he vacuumed, too; Hell, even the tiny waste basket shoved next to the couch was empty.

Was this all because you were coming over? Did he want to make a good impression? 

The thought alone sends your guts aflutter with some bizarre version of flattery.

As your gaze flits all around the room, you feel a heat radiating from your host’s laser-focused gaze aimed directly at your face.

“What?”

“You look… different.”

Okay, so what if you actually put some effort into your appearance, doused yourself in your favorite perfume, and put on your nicest pair of jeans?

It’s not like you wanted to look somewhat decent for the guy you were maybe-kinda-sorta seeing or anything; even if said guy couldn’t give any less of a damn about how you looked.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug nonchalantly, hoping he wouldn’t see through your thinly-veiled ruse, “I always look like this. Are you just now paying attention?”

God only knows the amount of ridicule the little weasel’d dogpile you with if he found out you got all ‘prettified’ just for him.

Plus, his ego would over-inflate to unprecedented levels and take out all mankind like a modern-day version of the meteor that ended the reign of dinosaurs.

Luckily, with one last eye flicker and a low, noncommittal ‘hm’ from the back of his throat, the brief subject is dropped.

Guess you both did some light primping.

He moves further into the room, not before throwing back a witty 'You should take a picture; it'll last longer.'.

“I can’t help it; it’s not every day my pookie bear lets me into his holy sanctum to play with his little toys.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, earning a disturbed sneer in return.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? Pookie bear?” you feign innocence. 

“Yes, that. Only pussywhipped normies use that cutesie crap and I refuse to subject myself to such standards.”

“Whatever you say, snookums.”

“I so loathe you.” Bill let out one last aggravating sigh before busying himself with the gaming system he’d mentioned over the phone.

As he connects a couple of wires to his TV, you awkwardly hang around for something more to do, settling on picking at a hang nail just to have something to busy your hands with.

The solution comes when you make eye contact with a nearby shelf, a couple of out-of-box action figures practically beckoning you over.

“Ooh! What if we each grabbed one and made them kiss and junk? Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

You snag a figure that had a very Baywatch David Hasselhoff-y vibe with puffier hair and a gun strapped to his hip and deepen your voice, holding it up close to Bill, “Listen to the chick, punk. She’s got the right idea.”

A certain lasso-handling heroine is also thrown into the mix as you adjust your tone to be more smooth and confident.

“I agree, Please help me declare my undying love for…” You pause for a moment in an attempt to recall the gunslinger’s name, “that guy.”

Bill scoffs 'unamusingly' at your childish display and (lightly) swats the hand holding the intergalactic smuggler away from his face, “Like Han Solo would ever be caught dead making out with a woman who wears her panties out in public to fight crime.”

“Pssh, He’d be lucky if Wonder Woman even glanced in his general direction.” 

He pauses, “How do you know who Wonder Woman is?”

“Can’t tell you; it’ll take the mystery out of our relationship.” (You thumbed through a stack of comics when he wasn’t looking.) “Are you going to show me how to play or what?”

As if on cue, the TV’s noisy static blaring through the speakers smoothens out to a more upbeat and inviting tune, making way to display the psychedelic home screen of one Mario Kart 64.

You let out a delighted ‘oooo!’ before plopping down next to your kinda-sorta boyfriend on his circular carpet as he fiddles around with two controllers, ensuring that both are fully functional and cooperating.

Bill messes around with the game select screen, making sure to pick two players before moving on to the character select screen, the more exciting of the two.

There are eight options for you to choose from, ranging from a human plumber to... you want to say a punk dragon with a mohawk? 

Before you can make a decision, you're given some unwarranted advice: "You can be peach, obviously."

“Are you saying that because I’m dainty and pretty like her?”

“Uh, no. She’s pink and the only girl.”

As appealing as that sounds, another character had already caught your eye. “Forget that. I want to be the green dino thingy.”

“Yoshi? Out of the question, I already chose him.”

“No way, I want him!”

“No, fuck off! I picked him first!”

“BILL, PLEASEEE!”

“Get off of me!”

———

After the two of you take the time to have a well-rounded and productive discussion ("STOP THROWING CUSIONS AT ME!"), you come to an agreement.

“Whatever, I wanted to be Toad anyway.” He eventually concedes.

A triumphant giggle bubbles past your lips, earning a heatless scowl from Bill, as the game finally, finally begins.

You watch as a quick runthrough of the track displays itself: a hilly, rainbow-y mess set deep in outer space; cartoon logics, who were you to argue.

As the countdown begins and the competitors rev up their engines, a previously forgotten problem makes its way to the forefront of your mind. “Wait- Bill- I don’t know the controls!”

“Can’t help you, gotta win.”

And the race is on!

As he moves freely around the map and plays out maneuvers only capable of being done by someone who already knew every trick in the game, all you managed to do was move forward a couple feet, change the camera angles, and then crash straight into a wall, where you remained until the end of the race as Bill, as expected, effortlessly places first.

To add insult to injury, right before crossing the finish line, one of the last remaining CPUs nails you with a projectile. "Oh, come on!"

He lets out a victorious and annoyingly mocking cackle as the rankings are given, placing you at dead last, right underneath a literal ape.

You jut your bottom lip out in disdain, “Does unfairly beating me make you feel good about yourself, Dickey?”

“It really does. Thanks for asking.”

"Jerk."

"It's not my fault you're so bad at this."

“I am trying my-“ a sudden warmth descends upon you as a pair of flannel-covered arms wrap themselves atop of your own, “-best.”

He’s initiating contact! holy shit, holy shit, don't make any sudden moves or he’ll get spooked. Oh my god!

Bill ‘hand-holding is for douchebags’ Dickey was willingly pulling a slightly less messy version of the pottery scene from Ghost; all in the name of showing you how to play a game meant for kids.

During all this overthinking, he's also pointing out each multi-colored button and its designated purpose. 

So it's possible he doesn't consciously realize the very intimate hold he has on your right now.

Oh well, you'll take what you can get.

Is that aftershave you're smelling? Since when has he ever worn that?

“-button to perform slides on turns so you don’t lose any speed, but it’s a move for more advanced players, such as myself, and I doubt you’d be able to do it correctly.”

Wait, how long has he been talking for?

Any sound tumbling out of his mouth sounds exactly like it’s coming from one of the offscreen adults in Peanuts.

"You’re holding it wrong.”

You blink. “W-what other way is there? I don’t have three hands.”

“The controller's only meant to be held by the middle and right part.”

You nearly swallow your tongue as Bill maneuvers your hands, which were getting embarrassingly clammier by the second, into the correct position.

He then chooses another track, one that was covered in cows, and the countdown begins once again.

Except this time, once the little guy on the cloud makes it to one, instead of focusing on winning and jetting off to remain ahead of the other racers, his cart remains at a standstill next to yours. “Okay, press A to go.”

That should be easy enough to find!

One measly little A shouldn’t be an issue.

You stare down at the controller, and a beat of awkward silence hangs thickly in the air.

“Uh...”

Unseen by you, Bill rolls his eyes. “Are you new to the English language? You’re hopeless.”

He presses your thumb down, and by some odd miracle, Yoshi is finally moving forward, this time without hitting any barriers.

Like the world's most annoying teacher, he helps remind you again and again what button serves what purpose, all while keeping his hold on you.

While it initially flustered you, you started to get used to the added heat and focused on actually winning.

When he feels that you've finally got a grasp on the controls, he gives you full-reign of the controller and drops his arms; although, Bill doesn't seem to go too far, simply choosing to hang them loosely around your waist.

You don't think much of it, too preoccupied dodging a few cows whose life mission was to be run over.

"Stupid asshole," you murmur angrily under your breathe as a green plumber bumps into your kart and nearly sends you veering off course. 

The race gets even more intense when you finally manage to catch up and riding the red plumber's ass for first. 

"Throw it already, he's right fucking there!" Bill encourages, his grip tightening from excitement.

Your arm jerks to the right as if the movement will help Yoshi avoid a banana placed by the unfair CPU racer. "I'm trying, I'm trying!"

"Then throw the damn shell!"

"Stop backseat driving!"

With the checkered finish line in sight, you make the last ditch effort to twart your opponent and toss the green shell.

You both watch with bated breath as it hits the white fences along the sides like the world's most annoying pinball, inching closer and closer to its intended target before it finally makes a-

"Direct hit!"

At the absolute last second, Mario is sent toppling over like the giant tool he is, making a clear path for Yoshi, the ambitious little dinosaur, to take first place.

"I did it!" The wide grin on your face nearly splits your face in two as Yoshi lets out his victory... cheer?

You don't dwell too much on it.

Maneuvering yourself around and then tossing your arms around his neck, you relish in the small, dare you say, proud expression displayed on your boyfriend's face,  "Did you see that?" 

This time, you can see when he rolls his eyes, "Duh, I was right here." 

"How does it feel to be dating someone with better gaming skills than you?"

"Please, I could've played better than that in my sleep."

"Is that a bet I hear, Mr. Dickey?" You twirl a lock of his auburn hair in between your fingers.

You're not sure exactly when it clicks, but the sudden realization of the extremely close proximity he's placed himself in brings an abrupt end to the light teasing between you two.

Bill's entire face turns a brilliantly bright cherry red as he scrambles back over to his side of the floor, accidently knocking you on your ass and stammering the whole way, “T-tell anyone about this and I-I’ll just say you were c-coming onto me.” 

Initially, you thought that you accidentally overstepped your boundaries and caused him some grief, knowing how weird he is with physical contact, all of which is thrown out the window when he keeps glancing over at you.

You snicker, "Don't worry, I liked it too."

He sucks his teeth in what you took as dismissal, "whatever."

The tiny smile he's fighting so hard to stamp down says otherwise.

He quietly grabs his controller and returns to the map selection screen, scrolling through the submenus until he finally settles on one.

You take the silent hint and reach for yours, keeping your distance and refocusing on the screen.

As the two of you settle back in, Bill not-so-subtly scooches himself closer to you, tensing slightly when his leg makes contact.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, you just slump further into his side, leaning your head on his shoulder.

It takes every fiber in your body and then some to not squeal in pure ecstasy when he returns the small gesture by squishing his head on top of yours.

"YEAHHH, EAT SHIT!”

“WHEN DID YOU GET A RED SHELL?!”

extra:

"Hey, freak. Have you seen my sewing kit? I got a couple grudges to- what the hell?”

Jane watches in complete shock as the whirlwind formerly known as her brother frantically shoves pile after pile of trash into a large bag.

There’s a couple more just like it in terms of size piled up in the corner; right beside them is a discarded feather duster and a tangled-up vacuum cleaner.

"I didn't touch your shit," Bill calls over his shoulder, "can't you see I'm busy?"

“Since when do you clean?”

Her only answer is a grumbled 'mind your damn business' as her brother proceeds to dump last night's leftover campaign fuel into the overstuffed garbage bag in his tight grasp.

"Is it for a girl? It's a girl, isn't it?"

The younger Dickey takes a moment to soak in the fact that her brother, the selfish bastard that couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about other people, was actively making an effort to try and impress another human being and allowing them to step foot into his ‘nerd cave’.

You really can’t make this stuff up.

"Y'know,” she drawls after a moment of complete silence, an almost cat-like smirk stretching itself across her pale cheeks, “for a while there, I thought you weren't interested in girls."

"Oh, for the love of- GET OUT!"

[vamphorica]

i saw your wonderful post about the parallels between Mello & Light, in which you mentioned that there are parallels between light & near as well (wich I agree w/ 1000%). Could you by any chance expand on that more bc I love near and lights dynamic. Thank u!!

oh, i absolutely can.

When talking to people about Death Note outside of fandom spaces, I am almost always met with the confession that after L's death, these casual readers and watchers tend to lose interest. This is frustrating on several levels (even though I admit the Second Arc has plenty of flaws), but one reason in particular is that Near and Light's dynamic is so complex that it feels like such a shame to not give it a chance.

Think about it this way. If L and Light mirrored each other in a standard manner of speaking, Near and Light mirror each other like some distorted fairground mirrors, fun but slightly horrifying.

As I said in my Mello and Light Parallel analysis, Near falls into the same category as a gifted child dealt with immense pressure from an early age nonetheless (although he is not prone to violence as the other two are) . Like Light, Near is a high achiever whose intelligence appears to come naturally, and there may even be room to speculate whether he felt a degree of boredom himself in much the same way Light did at the start of the series. We can't really know this for certain, the only indication we have is that Near was content playing on his own. Without Mello's drive, and indeed the isolation from others at the House, it is not far-fetched to suggest Near was not exactly feeling stimulated by his current environment. Light was given an opportunity to alleviate his boredom, whereas for Near, it was an obligation. Both characters are given their break from unfulfilled monotony because of the Death Note.

Another thing I think is interesting is their emotional reactions to both success and failures. This is more apparent in the manga, where Near is shown to express himself more through visual cues, but neither hold back in claiming victory, or disdain in the case of their losses. Arguably, Light is more conscious of how his manner of expression can be interpreted by others, but that doesn't negate the fact that he has very strong reactions to progressions within the case. I also do think Light isn't quite as adept at concealing these emotive responses as many often suggest – personally, I believe there is a good degree of willful ignorance by those he surrounds himself with that allows for his more questionable behaviours to go unchallenged. Especially by the time he and Near 'meet' (or, at least, are in communication with one another), Near immediately calls bullshit on Light, which is particularly funny given that L had been doing the exact same thing, but it is only with Near that the Task Force begin to grow suspicious of Light.

Obligatory tangent - the expressions used for Near in the Shōnen Jump version of this scene far better support my point, and God do I wish they hadn't been discarded, they're so fun!

They took away my boy's whimsy, and for what reason?

Anyway.

Near is less concerned about expressing himself because he has no reason to manipulate those around him, and as such, the best part of the series to talk about the dynamic between these two is of course the final scene at the Yellow Box Warehouse. Although for a first time reader, the conclusion of the series might not be reaching a point of clarity, it is apparent that Near has had the upper hand, with Light having little more on Near than an outdated sketch and an awareness of his relationship to L. Meanwhile, through his own impressive efforts, Near has restructured the care around Light and has far more understanding of the man he is dealing with. Therefore, when they finally do meet, Near is already in the dominant position.

The comparisons between the two is extremely explicit. Unlike with L and Light, which played out like an alternate cat-and-mouse game until L's death, Near and Light arrive at the Warehouse under the impression they will both walk out alive. The reasons for this are clarified once Near's victory is ultimately achieved, but after Near takes off his L mask, both he and Light so evidently confident in their positions that it makes for an incredibly tense moment. Again, it also speaks to their shared reactions.

Light is shown to both claim victory and contend with defeat within a matter of pages, to revel in his success before pathetically scrambling as he attempts to rectify the circumstances in his favour. His monologue, now infamous, is mirrored by Near's closing statement, which is equally provocative. It is easy to interpret his words as nothing more than stating the facts, explaining exactly how he caught Light towards the end and that he despises the man behind the dominion of Kira's reign. Yet his invocation of Mello and L, I think, speaks to his own sense of strong feelings pertaining to the confrontation. When Light disavows Mikami, realises Misa is not present alongside him, there is a reality both he and Near have come to realise – Light is completely isolated, while Near has not just the SPK and the Task Force only his side, but two lives sacrificed to pursue Light to the end.

thank you for sending this ask! ♡