#but I don’t unfortunately. so no imagery for now

[kirby-souljourney-au]

Ok, this isn’t gonna be canon to Soul Journey, but I had an idea.

I think it’d be really funny if Auberon (and y’know what, maybe Hara too) was part of the GSA before it fell apart, and was really good friends with Meta

So when he and Hara arrive in Dreamland during the events of the fic, there’d be a whole interaction that’s just Chill Greeting between the friends and Gala screaming in confusion.

Sorta like this:

Auberon: Oh, hey Meta Knight, long time no see

Ione: Hi Auberon. Didn’t think I’d see you again, how’ve you been

Galacta, losing her shit: YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER?????????

[almostempty]

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The half sequel (Chapter 1.5) to Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pick sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 

And holy shit. 

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 

And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized? 

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 

You still do want to lick the screen. 

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 

No imagination or creativity. No patience. 

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 

The photo you sent is… sexy. 

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 

He’s just shameless with it. 

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 

“What are you wearing, dollface?” 

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 

Those lips. 

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 

“Yes.” 

“S’right, baby, I know.” 

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 

“You, Joel.” 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you. 

Maybe you’re just made for each other. 

You and Joel. 

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 

It shouldn’t make you smile. 

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

PLEASE tell me if you enjoyed or hated it 

OR throw rocks at me if you’re upset they didn’t smash yet or tell me ur favorite divorced dad rock song

Tags:

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General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

[kedsandtubesocks]

seasons of you (year 1 - spring)

Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance

word count: 5.4k

a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.

For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.

“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”

At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.

He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.

“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.

After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.

It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.

Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.

Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.

One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.

From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.

But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.

“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.

Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.

“You alright?!”

The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.

Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.

You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.

“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.

“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.

“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.

He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.

“What happened!?” He barks confused.

Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.

“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.

Joel sighs angrily.

“Come on.”

Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.

“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.

“I’m fine.” You snap back.

“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.

Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.

It’s larger than your grandpa's.

Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.

So you let your eyes wander.

Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.

Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.

After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.

“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.

You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.

“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”

You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.

“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.

“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.

“Not all the time.” He replies.

You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.

He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.

“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”

Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.

“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.

“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.

You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.

Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.

“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.

A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.

“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”

“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.

“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.

“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.

You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.

“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”

There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.

“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.

“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”

You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.

“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”

Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.

“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.

This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.

“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.

Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”

You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.

“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.

Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.

“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.

“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”

You snort at that.

“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.

Joel chuckles.

It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.

“Alright, all fixed up.”

The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.

“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.

“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.

“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.

This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.

Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.

“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.

“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”

He hums a noise of acknowledgment.

Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.

“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.

He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.

Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.

“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.

Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.

“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.

It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.

“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.

“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.

Joel nods and with that you head out.

You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.

But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.

You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.

When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.

- ☼ -

Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.

His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.

You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.

Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.

Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.

Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.

Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?

Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.

You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.

By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.

Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.

The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.

You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.

The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.

A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.

Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.

You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.

“Where y’heading?”

You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.

When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.

Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.

“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.

“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.

Alone with Joel Miller once again.

The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.

Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.

“No new crops coming in?”

“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”

“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.

“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.

“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.

You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.

“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”

You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.

A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.

You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.

“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.

“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”

“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.

Kid.

“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.

Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.

“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”

A daughter. He’s a dad.

It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.

“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.

“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”

So he’s an empty nester.

Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.

Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.

“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.

“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.

Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.

“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”

“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.

“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.

You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.

“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”

The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.

You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”

“Takes after me.” Joel nods.

“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.

“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”

A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.

“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.

Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.

“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.

There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.

Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.

“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.

You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.

Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.

“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.

Maria yells out Joel’s name again.

“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.

The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.

But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.

Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.

Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.

“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.

“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.

Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.

“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”

You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.

“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.

Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.

Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.

Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.

Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.

So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.

Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.

- ☼ -

The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.

The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.

“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.

He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.

Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.

With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.

“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.

Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.

“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.

“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.

He’s Joel’s brother.

“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.

You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.

“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”

Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.

You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”

A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.

“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.

Yet his eyes remained glued on you.

You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.

“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.

Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.

Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.

“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”

Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Shit.

You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.

Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.

Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.

At least this will be over soon.

The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.

His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.

“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.

Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.

“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”

Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.

Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.

He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.

For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.

“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.

“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.

Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.

Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.

“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.

“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.

“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.

He continues walking alongside you.

Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.

“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.

“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.

“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.

You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.

“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.

Joel however rolls his eyes.

“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.

It sounds like a promise.

You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.

“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”

He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.

Joel is walking you home.

And he called you sprout.

You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.

Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.

To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.

Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.

Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.

He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.

“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.

Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.

It feels different seeing him here.

Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.

Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.

“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”

Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.

“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.

“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.

When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.

However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.

So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.

“Wait how will I know you made it back?”

Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.

A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.

“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.

You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.

A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.

Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.

You wish so badly to wave back.

Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.

Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.

Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.

Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.

Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.

[wisteria-lodge]

If you're comfortable answering, how do you think JKR intended Draco to come across, and how did he actually come across in your mind?

I think Draco was intended to come off as a weak and kind of pathetic bully. The Dudley Dursley of the Wizarding World. 

That’s how we’re introduced to him: “Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.” Almost he first thing we hear Draco say is the very Dudley-ish -  “I'm going to drag [my parents] off to look at racing brooms... I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Later books re-contextualize this as a brag - he is not actually able to bully his father into buying him presents, and instead of Dudley's tantrums Draco likes to embellish things in order to seem more impressive and get the result he wants. But initially, I think Draco = Dudley. They both dislike people who are different, dislike Harry for being more special (and because they’ve been given tacit permission to bully him...)They’re spoiled by their parents. They’re even both platinum blonde. 

JKR loves the idea of an antagonist who realizes that they were wrong and *you were right* a little too late, and then has no choice but to punish themselves. (Basically the entire deal with Snape.) So - Draco and Dudley get some of that treatment too. After Dudley meets the dementor he breaks down, has a moment where he leaves Harry a cup of tea, and another where he says “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” BUT Dudley’s initial breakdown is framed as pathetic (even a touch comedic.)The tea he leaves outside Harry’s door has gone cold, and when Harry steps in it he initially thinks it’s a dumb prank. Dudley says “I don’t think you’re a waste of space” only in response to a comment Harry makes. Hestia Jones is super unimpressed, and thinks Dudley should be doing more. 

Like, JKR is aware that it’s not *completely* Dudley‘s fault he’s like that. Dumbledore comments on the “appalling damage [Vernon and Petunia] have inflicted on the unfortunate boy sitting between you.” But the damage is still done, and Dudley is meant to be seen as a figure of pity. All this is supposed to read as ‘too little, too late.’ If Dudley were less of a coward, a stronger person, a better person, he would’ve brought Harry the tea directly. 

Now let’s look at Draco, who is given some *very* similar beats. We see him crying in the bathroom, comforted by Myrtle (a comedic character) very similarly to how Dudley basically goes into shock after the dementor. Draco and Dudley are both framed as weak, but able to see the error of their ways, and their breakdowns set up an important plot/character moment for Harry.

Draco’s little “I can’t— I can’t be sure,” when he’s asked to identify Harry at Malfoy Manor is another beat of ‘too little, too late.’ Harry takes Draco’s wand a few minutes later (absolutely castration imagery - just look at how the text treats Lucius losing his wand) and then Dobby shows up to low-key shame Draco by doing the job that he [narratively] was supposed to have done: rescuing Harry and friends, probably dying in the process. I do think that’s how we’re supposed to read that scene. And then Harry gets these very similar selfless beats of saving Dudley (from dementors) and saving Draco (from fiendfyre.) That’s why JKR is so baffled when people like Draco, think he’s attractive, or ship him with Hermione. It’d be like shipping her with Dudley, it doesn’t make sense.

But a couple things went “wrong” when Draco was released into the world. For one thing, I think a lot of people saw his more indirect underhanded approach (he likes rumors, smear campaigns, blackmail, poison, sneaky back entrances, tricking/provoking Harry into breaking rules) as evidence that he's clever, and not that he’s a cowardly, spineless little weasel.

Then because JKR is committed to making Draco look ineffectual and comedic, she also makes him… not that bad? Most of his bad behavior goes down between books 1 and 3, and I’m sorry - when you’re 12 your politics are your parents' politics. You are not not responsible for that. By the end of the series Draco’s politics *have* changed, pretty drastically, and they changed under challenging circumstances.

I also think JKR accidentally gave him a better relationship with his father than she meant to? Jason Isaacs plays Lucius Malfoy as cold, I could see him being a *bit* of a bully when it comes to Draco -  but in the book, they go on outings, Draco complains to his father, Lucius is patient with him, gives him advice, sets boundaries, sends him little newspaper clippings in the mail. Lucius and Narcissa are running around without wands during the Battle of Hogwarts looking for him, and it’s supposed to be like “here are the Malfoys defanged.” But it's just a sweet moment. And if you’re positioning Draco as a romantic lead, then yeah I’d say that “good relationship with his parents” is an attractive trait.

The movie also did Draco Malfoy a HUGE favor by saying that yes, he absolutely does have the Dark Mark. That is never confirmed in the book. You can make the case that he doesn’t have it, and he’s doing what he does and embellishing the truth to seem more impressive. Hermione doesn’t think he has it. Ron says “I still don’t reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join.” If he doesn’t have the Dark Mark, Draco gets to stay a semi-pathetic minor villain. But the second he does have it… well now you have someone who was given this tattoo/brand thing the *moment* he turned 16 (Draco has a June birthday) and now is 100% stuck. He is on a magical leash to Voldemort. He can’t run, can’t hide. All he can do is ride out this thing as best he can, and hope it doesn’t kill him or his parents. That’s a much more sympathetic character.

And my last thing, about the moment where he lies for Harry in Malfoy Manor (movies frame it as 100% a lie, books keep it more ambiguous)... is I don’t think J. K. Rowling realizes that Draco is the first person in the entire 7th book who helps Harry, at all. Molly Weasley is actively sabotaging the Golden Trio's planning by splitting them up and making them do wedding chores. Xenophilius Lovegood betrays them, Bathilda Bagshot betrays them, Rufus Scrimgeor is no help, Remus Lupin needs *their* help, Dumbledore gave them a series of maddening riddles. Snape gives them a weird puzzle to solve (also he’s very much acting under Dumbledore’s orders…) So when Draco DOES put himself on the line to buy them a few minutes, it makes for a pretty striking moment. He also keeps to this lie even when Lucius tells him not to, he lies to Bellatrix, he is almost certainly going to have to repeat this lie to Voldemort, who can read minds… 

So I think most fans look at Draco and see someone who is arrogant, a little bit of a shit, but is also sensitive, clever, emotional, nonviolent. (He’s definitely got a little bit of boy band non-threatening sexuality going on.) Draco will go out on a limb for the people he loves, and he comes through when it counts. There’s a survivor-mentality practicality to him, which is especially appealing in a series where so many characters are so willing to martyr themselves.

[julietsbody]

girlnextdoor

( chapter one :

studyme.png )

words: 3,525

tags: 18+!!!! mdni , camgirl ! reader , camming, sex worker ! reader , masturbation , falling in love , body worship , religious / greek imagery , voyeurism, semi ! sub coriolanus , fantasizing

p.s : this is also on my ao3! ( divider by i92-93 )

a/n : i don’t know how i managed to make this an emotional story with greek references, but i did it somehow LOLL hope u enjoy!!

PROLOGUE : COMPETITION .

festus had an irrational mouth, he had dared coriolanus to do stupid things before, like asking girls out, or to have one night stands with them. it was awful, coriolanus hated being around festus because he was like a fly buzzing around in his eardrums, circling around his head and refusing to leave no matter how many times he swipes at it. coriolanus wasn’t the only victim unfortunately, sejanus was the main one for festus, because sejanus was weak, pliant, and could easily be peer pressured into anything.

“i dare you to ask her out,” he points to a girl in the library, a girl with clemensia and arachne.

dear fucking god, save us all, this is going to be a crucification performed in the middle of the academy’s library.

“you’re joking, right?” sejanus coughs out an awkward laugh.

festus’ eyes narrow, a dangerous seriousness, “no, it’s not that hard.”

“why don’t you do it then?” coriolanus slices in the conversation.

“i have a girlfriend,” festus shrugs, “can’t.”

coriolanus barks out a bitter laugh, “who would date you?”

“okay, that’s fucking rude, and she’s hella hot, so fuck off, please,” festus rolls his eyes, “go on, sejanus!”

sejanus frowns, festus was talking so loud that the girls were now looking at them, with their judgemental, pristine stares.

so he sighs, and raises to a stand, making coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he knew sejanus was weak, impulsive, but not to this level, “you aren’t actually gonna do it, are you?”

“i am,” sejanus sounds confident, but he isn’t. poor, sweet sejanus.

what a trainwreck, like something you try to hard to look away from, but you just can’t. your eyes follow him as he moves over to the girls, a small smile curving his lips when he finally approaches them, an opposite to their sharp eyes. clemensia’s head tips to the side, “yes, sejanus?”

sejanus inhales, trying to remind himself that he does have a way with words, so just use that.

his eyes move down to you, “i was wondering if—“

“no,” you respond quickly.

he swallows, “okay.”

and festus is laughing, god it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.

but the girls don’t laugh, they know festus’ game, if anything they hate festus more than any of the poor boys that are dared to ask them out for dates.

“who’s your girlfriend?” coriolanus asks, having a feeling that he’s lying.

festus’ laughter immediately calms down, “she’s a pornstar, and she’s like super in love with me.”

“does she even know you exist?” coriolanus scoffs, “‘m sure she’s just doing her job.”

“shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just mad you could never get with a girl like mine.”

“let me see her,” coriolanus offers, and of course, festus pulls up a picture of a girl who hardly shows her face.

you can only see her lips, and from then on she’s in very tight and revealing clothing, coriolanus stares at the picture for a second, then looks at festus.

festus smirks cockily, “hot, right?”

hot, is that all he views his so called girlfriend as?

“you can’t even see her face,” he confronts, and festus rolls his eyes.

“that’s not the point—“

“then what is?”

“her videos, dude, they’re so good,” festus’ voice becomes a loudly hushed whisper now.

coriolanus’ jaw ticks, “you sure she even knows you?”

“okay, she doesn’t— but like—“ he groans, “why don’t you try to get her to notice you, asshole?”

“i don’t watch porn,” coriolanus shrugs simply.

festus coughs out a laugh, “yeah, say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

coriolanus, in his own defense, should be saying that it was curiosity. at first it was, yes, pure innocent, unshielded curiosity. then it became what it truly was underneath all of his guards, admiration. with each video, each picture, it had his teeth gritting. he didn’t want to pay to see your exclusive content at first, but with how little you showed on every other platform, it almost felt necessary. girlnextdoor, what a peculiar name, he was itching to know more about you.

maybe it was the competition festus had set him up for that had him wanting this, coriolanus was never one for porn, or for jerking off. but god, he might now be. it was disgusting, how much his mind raced with every suggestive picture, ones where you teased the contents underneath your bra, or a video where you were taking off your panties but still showing nothing.

he went back to your original website, only to find, in bold letters, LIVE.

live? he swallows thick, cursor moving to click on the maroon enticing him.

the sight that came nearly had him clicking off almost immediately, you had been moved into a cowgirl position, riding a dildo. your moans filled his eardrums almost immediately, each whine, each movement of your hips delivering a squelching sound. he felt like a dehydrated man, throat run dry, tongue devoid of any saliva. aphrodite, in her natural habitat, sex, love, devotion, she is putting herself on display— yet with the camera placed to show everything only from below her nose, she is so hidden at the same time.

he was biting the delicate skin on the inside of his cheek, peaking near the metallic taste, but he didn’t even realize over the heat rushing to his dick. he breathed out, wondering what it would feel like if you were to be on him, with those experienced hips, that body which looks like it was crafted from the gods himself, your pussy swallowing his dick whole—

he clicks off as soon as the thought sears in his mind, he doesn’t need to be thinking of a pornstar like this.

his eyes close for a minute, and all he can see in that darkness is the shape of your body, the bucking of your hips as you ride the dildo, and he sighs.

he should sleep. it’s late.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : HAUNTED .

adoration, a statue by stephen abel sinding, made from delicate marble. it depicted a man at a woman’s feet, as she sat upon a pedestal. he was on his knees, eyes staring up at the goddess in front of him, as she sat with her back straight, eyes falling upon the man that worshipped her. he kissed her legs with care, admiration, hands slipping onto her calves as he plants his lips upon her shins. she was gorgeous above him, allowing him to take every part of her into his hold, to kiss her and devote his whole pride to her.

coriolanus swallows thick, he thought that when his eyes moved to a close, his thoughts would dissipate.

they got worse, so, so much worse. they were more vivid now, dirtier, his longing worsening.

he imagined what words would spill from your mouth as your hips swayed on him, he allowed you to take the lead, restraining himself from fucking into you like a desperate man. to be honest, he was desperate, he was needy, the feeling of your puffy walls closing in on him had him almost whimpering himself. a god is no match to his goddess, he will always fall to his knees in front of her, no matter what. coriolanus had pride, surely, but the idea of your clit rubbing against his abdomen as your hips stuttered on him had his pride becoming weak façades.

say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.

fuck you, festus. he was the reason that coriolanus even knew this camgirl existed, the reason for the painful stains on his mind.

festus wouldn’t be so cocky if the girl he calls his girlfriend had coriolanus’ dick in her mouth.

the feeling of your mouth on his dick became vivid as well now, he could see it so clearly, your doe eyes staring up at him through those velvet lashes as your pillow lips move to press sloppy, open - mouthed kisses onto the tip of his cock. you were teasing him, surely, and he couldn’t take it. he would grit out a small plea for you to actually suck him in, and he would feel your lips curl onto his tip, “beg.”

begging, coriolanus always hated the idea of it, he thought it was weak, gross, submissive.

but in this moment, he was so clouded with lust that he didn’t care for the repercussions of a simple please.

“please, just fucking— god, i need—“ he couldn’t even get his words right, it was sweet. your eyebrow cocked at him, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you through dilated pupils and lazy lids. you finally took pity, lips parting further so your tongue could snake out and slide underneath his cock as you take him in finally. the warmth was all too much for coriolanus, wetness, warmth, his fingers move to thread through the weaves of your hair, his bottom lip falling tight underneath his top teeth.

his hips buck ever so slightly, again, desperation. you don’t react though, if anything, you just moaned around him.

no gag reflex? dear god, you’ll be coriolanus’ ruin.

god will not be present in this moment though, as though this is a reenactment of the martyrdom of saint sebastian. arrows shooting at him as he falls to his fate, he was strung up, shot with the painful spears, and left for his death. isn’t that so alike to now? festus had tied him up, fed him stories of this woman and allowed him to fall into sin, then left him for his own demise.

apples began to taste sweeter, even with their poison, as coriolanus finds his hand dipping below his waistband, his long fongers fell along his painful hardness. he mumbled a curse into the gentle air as he finally relieves himself from all of his sins, as of he’s sitting in the confessional of a church, whispering all of his sins to the judgemental priest. the scales tipped as his fingers moved to curl around his cock, fist moving up and down on his length.

the pictures continued, he thought of how he would take care of you first, now if he was the one dominating.

he would go rough, he always loved the idea of fucking someone senseless, making every vein buzz with only pleasure, mind forming thoughts solely of lust. he imagines holding you close as his fingers curl inside of you, he doesn’t push them in and out fast at first, but when your hips buck up against him— he becomes harsher, the intention of bruising your lips evident.

next, he moves to press you against the mattress, fucking you senseless into it.

he hums into the air, “ah— fuck..”

his breathing is labored, eyes scrunching shut as the pictures of your eyes rolling back becomes a mere oil painting in front of him, perched on the walls of the most pristine museums. his fingers would pass through your hair again, now the back of your head, pulling you back so your spine is flush against his chest. you’d lean back against him, melting into his skin and begging for more. surely, you had enough experience from your dildos and other sexual toys, or partners, but none of them could compare to coriolanus as his hips snap into you.

he groans into the air, seething in the pleasure, “i’ll fuck you so good..— mm.”

he moves to now fuck into his hand, imagining his hand a depiction of your velvet walls around him, clenching as you near your high.

you moan against his flesh, his fingers moving from your hair to your neck, pulling you until your flesh molds with his, adoration and lust merging you two together.

he went faster, harsher, fucking into his hand until his thighs grew sore, finally reaching his high.

he spills into his hand, sighing into the humid air.

“my god—“ he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

what the fuck is his problem?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : DARE ME ?

“so, did you talk to her?” festus interrogates him, per usual.

coriolanus’ eyes are heavy, he hardly slept after the events of last night, “no, i didn’t.”

“fucking loser,” festus snears, “she was live last night.”

“i know,” he swallows thick, the image of you riding the dildo returning to his mind, “did you talk to her?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, cocky, again, “i’m texting her right now.”

coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he leans over to see festus sending a message.

a phone goes off in the library.

as soon as the message is sent.

coriolanus blinks, once, twice, “send another.”

so he does, he types out another message and send it.

the same phone goes off again, just as the message says delivered.

coincidence?

coriolanus doesn’t believe in those.

“you’re so fucking weird dude, don’t try to read my messages,” festus pushes him away.

coriolanus groans, he couldn’t care less to read festus’ messages, “are you paying her to talk to you?”

“yes, but that’s not the point—“ festus quickly tries to save himself from the humiliation.

coriolanus scoffs, “she’s not your girlfriend, you can’t even get one, like ever.”

“and what about you, virgin?” festus leans in, a smirk growing on his lips. coriolanus knows what that smirk means, it means coriolanus will soon be sealing his fate, “why don’t you try to get one?”

“i’m good,” coriolanus shrugs, “nobody’s here for you to even dare me to ask out.”

“clemensia is,” he points to the table where you and clemensia always sit at, and of course, you’re both there, “and her friend.”

“i’m not asking them out,” coriolanus moves down in his chair.

“yes you are, i dare you.”

“no, you’re so fucking stu—“

“i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a virgin.”

coriolanus’ weakness was people knowing all the humiliating things about him, one of those things was the fact that he hasn’t had sex yet. coriolanus was an attractive man, he could get women if he truly wanted to and spend his nights with them, but he refused. and that made festus’ dares easy.

coriolanus’ jaw shifts, “you’re an asshole.”

every step he takes is slow, calculated, yet confident. it’s a certain stride that coriolanus always has, where he knows what he’s doing, but unsure at the same time. especially now, especially when your hair falls off your shoulder as you turn to have your eyes fall on him, sensing his approach. maybe it was a common thing for you, knowing festus would be daring his friends to come up to you, clemensia, or arachne.

always on high alert, he assumes.

his eyes fall the exposition of your shoulder, a key to one of those tight shirts that you always wear, even when it was against dress code.

a tight skirt and a short skirt, your motto, clearly. your twist underneath the table when he stands next to your seat, close, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. one thing he does notice though, is the strap of your bra. pink? a familiar shade, and as he follows it down, he notices the lace that starts on your bra. it looks an awful lot like the bra that the camgirl wore last night, the bra that coriolanus imagined you taking off for him.

his eyes narrow, he seems distracted, and you stare at him like he’s dumb, “hello?”

his eyes snap to your face at your words, “sorry— i—“

“what? are you gonna ask me out?” god, were you always this bitchy?

“i was planning on it,” his jaw shifts, eyes dipping to the plush of your lips, coated in that sparkly, strawberry gloss you always wore, “would you have said yes?”

“no, god, what is with you assholes?” you roll your eyes, pencil tapping impatiently against the desk.

“hm, not even a study date?” his eyes trail down to the book on your desk, “i saw your score on the test last week.”

“ew, fucking creep,” you snap, “i don’t need your help.”

“you sure?” his eyebrow cocks, your no isn’t stable yet, so he’s persuasive.

“coriolanus,” clemensia cuts in, “she said no.”

“did she?” he whistles, a cocky smile curving his lips, one that you want to slap off him, “must’ve not heard that.”

“then get some hearing aids,” you laugh, “i’m not sucking your dick.”

“didn’t ask you to, but we’ll see, sweetheart.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

we’ll see. he didn’t even know where those words came from, or his cockiness, maybe it was the fact that he suspected you to be the girl he had on his mind last night. if so, then he would know things about you that many don’t, and that gives him power.

greed : an insatiable desire for material objects, wealth, and power.

coriolanus snow was a greedy man.

he kept a closer eye on you now, eyes pinning to the back of your head, memorizing the way you style your hair, so that he can see if the hair that drips off your shoulders in all of your secret videos were the same. or if your lips were as sparkly and glossed in those videos as they are in person. did you wear the same mini skirt you wore to school in your videos? that would be dirty, wouldn’t it? capitol girl, dressed in her pristine clothes as she fucks herself in front of thousands.

what a slut.

he had to figure it out, it was an untamable hunger that not even the most holy prayer could exorcize out of him. rosaries dripped around the fingers he used to curl around his cock the night before, and even in his most innocent prayers, his mind reflected back onto the idea of pulling the rosary around your neck as he fucks into you. his eyes snap open, and now just another thing that he had done so clearly before was plagued with your existence.

was this you calling out to him? beckoning him to pray for you?

if so, he might just do it, dedicate all of his rosaries to you, replace virgin mary with yourself, and look at every cross and think of you moving onto it, sliding the wood into your womanhood.

coriolanus��� throat was dry again, his own thoughts making him want to vomit.

those were the kinds of things festus would be fantasizing about, not coriolanus— and yet, here he was, on his knees, imagining you on the pedestal. your hair dips past your shoulders as you look down at him, those judgemental, buggish eyes, now bleeding onto his skull. his fingers dip behind your calves, memorizing the touch of the flesh that smoothed over muscle and bone. his eyes cascade up your legs, past your breasts, to the eyes that look down on him.

he has a certain look in his eyes, a look that is saying he’s doing this all for you. dropping his pride for you, allowing his walls to crumble for you, tarnishing his name for you. sometimes snow doesn’t land on top, sometimes it melts and becomes weak in the sky, sometimes it crumbles underneath itself.

he plants gentle kisses to your shins, admirations, soft praises and prayers.

goddess, did you hear about the man who roamed lost? the man who fell weak? tell me of his efforts, what brought him to this point, the people he met, the worlds he crossed, to now be brought to his knees in front of his muse. he was complicated, hidden, and yet you peeled him apart like a pomegranate. the juice splatters against your face as he opens himself to you, and something about it is so very special.

scratches fall down his back, and again, he’s blinking himself to reality.

his fingers on the keyboard, he finds himself at your profile once more, now beckoning you to him. a twisted game of tug - of - war, isn’t it? pieces fall into place as he clicks on the link which leads him to paying for your exclusive content.

research purposes, of course.

he spends his money so easily, he doesn’t even take a second thought to it as the page reloads with his newfound access to all your hidden secrets. his fingers pry as he pulls down the website, scrolling through each aspect that you hold in the reflections of who you really are.

a whore? no, a temptress.

he sucks in a breath at the sights of you bending over in front of the camera, fucking a dildo into yourself, or the next one of you in a missionary position with a vibrator on your clit. or the next one of you fucking a dildo between your tits. coriolanus rasps out the breath he sucked in earlier, adjusting in his seat, this wasn’t another invitation to jerk off, it was studying.

he scrolls past a few more videos and then, his eyes catch it, the skirt.

a small smile curves his lips, power.

he has it.

or so, he thinks he does, you have his money, his admiration, him on his knees, have him confused on whether or not this is truly you. skirts and coincidences don’t tell much, he just likes to jump to conclusions. the hair didn’t even match up—

so does he really have the power?

we’ll see, sweetheart.

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 3

Pt.1. Pt.4 Ao3

Woah part 3?? Crazy, enjoy!

Jason could hardly hold back his grin as Barbara hit play for probably the hundredth time. It was child's play for her to get ahold of a video of the Joker's death, and damn was it worth it. The footage was anything but high quality, which was a given considering it was in a random alley. But the Joker was unmistakable as he pulled a scruffy ravenett off the street at gunpoint. Luckily however, the camera was poised at the perfect position to catch the whole affair, in however grainy the imagery.

Only moments after Danny was pulled into the alley, a short struggle ensued, followed up by a bright flash of green light that threw Joker further into the alley. The video ended on a frame of a panicked Danny crouching by the body, checking his pulse.

“I need you to send this to me,” Jason said, his smile creeping every further.

“Already did,” Babs responded with a snort. “I also sent it to Harley, and I was going to send it to B, but I thought I'd let you break the news” Her own cheshire grin split as Jason nodded.

“Anything new on Danny?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

Barabara’s expression turned to something more teasing, “I’m not here to get you a boyfriend Jason. But I did get you some surface level stuff,” she said, cutting off his slight protest, as she switched screens, pulling up some documents. “Danny Fenton, He’s an Aerospace student at Gotham U, starting this semester. He just moved here from Illinois. He lives in dorm 206B in the Truman building on campus, and he currently has no occupation. There’s not much on his hometown, there’s some kind of blackout I need to get past, but his parents are scientists of some kind, and his sister and father are both documented metas. Overall I don’t think he’s much of a threat, just a kid who got caught in the wrong place.” Jason Hummed in response, reaching for his helmet.

“Thanks so much Babs, you’re a godsend”

Barbara smirked, turning back to her computer, “I know”

Jason slipped out the window.

---------

Jason didn’t often watch the sunrise. Usually he was too tired, or too busy. But today he was so awake he could practically feel the energy buzzing in his bones as he watched the sun rise over the docks of gotham.

He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling since he found Danny hunched over the dead clown. But something in his chest was pulling at the thought of them. An ache of something familiar yet so distantly unknown filled his thoughts. There was something about that person that had lodged itself in Jason’s brain and refused to leave.

Unfortunately, Jason was pulled from these thoughts by the loud crackle of his comm.

“Hood, report to the cave for debrief,” Jason groaned, just because he wasn’t ready to sleep doesn’t mean he wanted to haul himself across all of Gotham to the Cave. He stood slowly, taking his sweet time to reply and savoring the satisfying pops as he stretched.

“Hood, report”

“Yeah, yeah, don't go getting your cape in a twist. I’m coming. Though I don’t see why it's necessary to pull me across the whole city when an email could do.” he grumbled that last part to himself more than anything.

Jason took his time driving through the city, stopping muggings, taking care of stragglers on their way home from late shifts. And if it took him an hour longer than usual to get to the cave, well then that wasn’t his fault. When he finally got there, though, there was no doubt; this definitely could have been an email.

When he arrived B, Stephanie, Tim and Damian were going over various minor things from their patrols, that didn’t really affect him much to be honest, just the routine; drug rings, arms deal busts, and oddly enough; ghost sightings.

“Finally,” he heard Tim mutter, as Jason killed the engine in his bike. “B! He’s here! Can we start now?”

“Start what?”

“B, wants to touch base regarding the Arkham breakout,” Stephanie said, sending him a withering glare, probably for making them wait so long. “I think he’s just being paranoid because Joker’s been unusually quiet.” Jason had to stifle a snort. If he played his cards right, this would be the perfect time to tell about the new lack-of-threat to Gotham.

“Paranoia and caution are not the same thing,” The bat himself growled from his place at the computer. “It’s been a week since he broke out of Arkham, we should have heard from him by now. It’s uncharacteristic of him to not have a scheme cooked up and in motion by now.”

“Father is correct, we should be looking further into finding the Joker,” Damian said, “If any of you have information regarding this case, I suggest you share,’’ he sneered, and if he wasn’t practically three feet tall, it would have been fairly intimidating.

“We're doing the best we can, Damian, if Joker’s up to something we’ll know about it” Tim said.

Up to this point Jason had been watching the conversation, trying to hold back his laughter, but a few chuckles managed to escape and he folded into it. Everyone in the group froze and turned to Jason as he pulled his helmet off, still wracked with giggles.

When he had finally managed to calm himself down, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes, Damian piped up, sounding wary at Jason's sudden outburst.

“What is so funny Todd?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Jason said, fighting back another round of laughter before schooling himself into a more serious disposition. “Joker’s not up to anything, don’t worry.” He said. We watched as his family’s faces went from wary, to confused.

“And how do you know that?” Damian questioned further, bristling.

And this was it. Jason delighted in the way everyone’s faces fell when he said with icy diction,

“Because that motherfucker is dead.”

And everyone exploded.

-----------

By the time he managed to escape the cave (and the incessant questioning) all his earlier energy had been sapped out of him and Jason was ready for a very long nap. He was heading back to his apartment in Park Row when something caught his eye. Or perhaps someone.

“Twice in eight hours? I know you’re not from here but that’s still gotta be some kind of record,” Jason quipped as he tied up the assailant he’d just knocked out.

Danny Fenton stared down at him from his place pressed against the alley wall. His face set in an indignant frown. His ice blue eyes glinting slightly in the ever growing morning light that had finally made itself through Gotham’s thick smog.

“Well it’s not like I’m trying to get attacked,” He ground out, “I just wanted some fucking coffee.”

“At four in the morning?” Hood responded, raising an eyebrow under his helmet.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he turned to collect his discarded belongings. When he spoke his voice was softer, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping anytime soon.”

Oh. Jason had forgotten that, even if it was an accident, even if it was the Joker of all people. Killing was a hard thing to deal with, and this must be weighing on Danny. Jason mentally kicked himself for not accessing them for shock. In retrospect all the signs were there, hidden just slightly behind the shaky facade. It was in the way Danny hadn’t touched their food at first. How they were despondent and their eyes kept drifting between empty and piercing, it was how they sat stiff as a board until Jason had mentioned their major. Until Jason had distracted them.

After a long pause that seemed as though it would last forever, Danny sighed.

“I should probably be going now,” He said, pushing past Jason to the entrance of the alley. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more careful this time,” He threw a half hearted grin over his shoulder, disappearing around the corner. Jason couldn’t even get a word in before he was gone.

++++++

Ack! Sorry if Jason is a bit out of character here, I haven’t actually gotten around to reading most (Read: Any) of his canon content yet, and I’m running mostly off Fanon and various character analysis I've read over the last few months.

What are your thoughts? This is only my second ever attempt at writing something to post. I promise I read every comment and they make me so happy to see people interact with my word vomit. Next bit will be from Danny POV. Let’s see what's going on in their head.

Fair warning; I don’t plan on doing tag lists for the future, so this’ll be the only one. If you want to see more I recommend following me (I promise I do other cool things too)

@always-be-a-stranger @dragonfirefeather @thatonegaybitch68 @uraniumwizard @ace-aro-as-shit @rosiea184 @amyheart19 @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch @dat1angel @tkiesai @idkmrpianoman @crystalqueertea @bianca-hooks123 @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @sjrose1216 @thegatorsgoose @akikkobara @help-i-need-a-cool-username

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

;0 feel free to ignore this if you wish, but maybe a romantic Ted ihnmaims x reader??? Something just, soft and cute? There's a severe lack for him unfortunately

I've got nothing else but love for you

Ted (IHNMAIMS) x Gender Neutral! Reader romantic headcanons Warning: mention of violence, murder, torture, killing, religious imagery (specifically Christianity) Word count: 1.1k ୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ��

Everyone knows how paranoid Ted is and how quick he is to judge others no matter their side of the story, and it doesn’t change with you. If anything, it’s worse when he gets a thing for you. He knows there’s a specific beauty to you that makes his heart beat a little too fast for his liking.

Ted will think it’s AM’s doing, making him want to crawl back to your arms after each torturous hour of the day. At some point, he asks, and it turns out AM did nothing with it. The blame is then put on you, you cursed him! You’re truly terrible!

He knows how romance works but hasn’t felt it in such a long time to the extent he forgets sometimes. Ted would watch as you helped Gorrister calm down or be close with Ellen and feel an awful sense of hatred. He barely differentiates if it’s toward the person you’re with or toward you.

Ted has a habit of getting caught in his thoughts, so once he realizes that the feeling is love, he would be beyond annoyed. He’s got so much going on to the extent love is not what he needs now!

It’s indescribable how much he loves praise. He’s self-conscious to an insane extent (from AM, though he doesn’t know it) and needs some reassurance that you truly love him. If you praise him before he confesses how he feels, it will solidify the idea that he likes you. Again, more blame is put on you.

Your beauty would play a part in his insecurity, it wouldn’t affect the relationship to the extent that he’d leave you. But it would be rather prominent with the way he talks about you then himself. Just consistent sayings of “I don’t deserve you”, it’s less manipulation and more so genuine insecurity. Ted is so insecure to the extent he never understood why you love him the way he loves you.

Physical affection would be gradual with how terrible Ted is to himself. It would be years before a normal amount of touch was visible in the relationship. Of course, there are ways to get him in your palm: praise him and he’ll basically melt. Though make sure he doesn’t think twice about your affection, he’ll be more willing to push away.

Ted isn’t the most affectionate person, but he knows that he has you for love. He’ll hold you as tight as he can once he fully gets comfortable and admires you silently.

Ted is hesitant with PDA but once he tries it, he’ll understand why he would walk down the street and see couples holding hands and kissing in public. He’d hold your hand on the journey for the canned peaches, making sure you were there with him.

Since he asked about the AI changing his brain to feel funny things for you, AM would use you to torture Ted. He’d take you, torture you beyond compare, and bring you back in the hands of an angel or another man. And Ted would take you back with care, taking your hand to continue the journey. It would affect him less if you were brought back in the hands of an angel, it would just solidify the idea AM is God but the man would hurt more, especially if it’s a guy who looks nothing like him. He’d puff his chest and continue without a word.

Kisses are another form of affection he loves, feeling your lips on his face, specifically his lips. His arms would tighten instinctively from the newfound affection and adore you each time.

Part of him would like being in a relationship since he knows the closest thing he had with Ellen wasn't real love and knows that she was “obligated” to help the men. Now that he has you, he hasn’t gone back to stress her more. It’s not only a mix of thankfulness from him for real love, but also one from Ellen. She’s already got so much from the four combined but thankfully, it would go down to three only.

It’s not unlikely for him to still accuse you of being against him too, saying you were plotting against him with the other men then running off to sit with his thoughts. It being a couple hours, days, weeks, months, years even doesn’t matter. You’ll find him again and assure him with your love. Ted’s bound to crawl back to you anyway.

Ted would try his best with being romantic, though it’s not his first idea to do. He’d try holding hands and calling you sweet names, and trying to make you swoon. But at the end of the day, he’s an awkward man. The others would see how he tries and cringe from the words he would say. You would laugh and accept his oddness with open arms.

He has a habit of following you like a dog sometimes, especially when he’s not wallowing in his own sadness. Ted would follow you around and talk to you, really about anything, about his life and what he liked to do before AM.

Ted would watch over you in your sleep, keeping your body to his chest as he laid awake, the dark bags under his eyes would gradually get worse. He was guarding you from nothing that was there, it was all his hallucinations. It’s truly the thought that counts, isn’t it?

A lot of convincing for him originally done by Ellen would later be done by you. When that hairy creature ran at him while on the walk to the peaches, he ran and hid. You would take your time guiding him from hiding, with words of praise and kisses for him.

The rest of the group (Gorrister and Nimdok) would use you to get Ted to do something with them. If he didn’t want to go about doing something with them and they didn’t want to split, they’d use you as a compromise. But if you agreed to stay with Ted, it’d be nearly impossible for the rest of the group to get him going until you egged him on.

By the end, when it turned out there wasn’t anything they could use for the peaches, Ted would kill you first. As much as it hurt to do, he’d want you out the quickest and confirmed gone. He wants you happy at any time he can get you to smile but if you must die for that, so be it.

When AM turns him into the soft blob when the group is dead, he would one day wish the AI would give him pity and kill him. Maybe in heaven he won’t look like the creature AM turned him into, even then, he could only hope you would love him just as much as when he was human.

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

First Ted ask!!!

My IHNMAIMS masterlist

[cooki3face]

why are they silent?

message: I’m feeling called to do this reading so I’m doing it. My posting and content schedule was literally all planned out and organized but I am unfortunately the embodiment of chaos however organized so now everything is all jumbled up. I think I’d love to have a little schedule and do all these wonderful things but I don’t believe that it’s really indefinitely the right direction for me to go in. I’m naturally spontaneous, I kind of go against the grain and go my own way all the time naturally and have done so since I was a child and so I think it’s time I live in my reality and find some acceptance here lol. I’m in the process of working through my drafts I have countless readings set up to be written and posted that I haven’t even tackled yet. Well anyways, hope this brings you peace and clarity.

***

i.

Guys, *deep dramatic sigh”, this person has a lot to say. I can’t stop channeling. It’s running through me like water lol. You could’ve stopped speaking to this person, cut them off, or cut them off from your energy all together here. Someone feels like something is incredibly unfair or unjust. They may feel like the world or the most high is against them and they feel like you slipping away from them is a manifestation of what it means to hit rock bottom. But , I don’t see you able to romanticize this, this person, this behavior, their feelings for you (any longer) you’ve expanded much too big or experienced what it means to be valued and you’re never going back there or you simply don’t resonate with this at this time.

channeled:

teenage dirt bag

I smoked away my brain- asap rocky

“Lowlife energy”

Disrespectful/disrespect

Peter Pan syndrome

“I don’t want to grow up.”

Catalyst

Life lessons

“Bigger than me” “you’re bigger than me.” “Larger than life.”

“It’s above me now.” “It’s out of my hands.”

Looking to the moon for answers

666- “a reminder to refocus and find balance in your life.” “a positive and transformative message from the celestial realm, representing self-discovery and spiritual essence.”

777- “linked to self-discovery and personal growth” “a signal to get present with what's going on between you and your significant other”

8891- “centers around personal growth and development”

786- “centers around personal growth and development” “healing and self-care. This number encourages you to take time for yourself and to focus on your own well-being”

**the angel numbers were insane, confirmation on confirmation***

Temptation

“The devil”

Forbidden fruit

Forbidden love

Unrequited. Unrequited love

“Are you finished with me?”

“Can I be your shadow?”

“Within you.”

Karmic cycles

Mirror

“See you again” -Tyler the creator, kali uchis

“Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? Because, I’m about to go to war and I don’t know if im going to see you again.”

“La la la” “ok ok ok”

Feminine/masculine

Opposites

Ends of the spectrum

Redbone- childish gambino

***

Someone is coming to a conclusion about you and about themselves through you. I get mirror energy here this could be twin flame connection that you’re keeping small here. There’s imagery of someone trying to blow out a candle, or a flame that’s flickering and small. It’s not being fed. A fire that’s dying. Whomever this person is, they’re receiving their karma for who they were to you, for not making the right decisions, for being disrespectful, for stumbling through life like it’s a joke. Your spirit guides, ancestors, deities, the divine, stand behind you so fiercely. Someone is feeling some sort of wrath here for who they were to you or what they’ve done to you. I just heard, “you’ll know loss.” Someone is going to have to rise out of the ashes like a phoenix, exorcise parts of them that have kept them stuck, be physically pulled away from karmic cycles and habits. Someone says, “they aren’t learning. They aren’t moving.”

They’re feeling very restless and burnt out here. Someone’s tired of fighting. Someone’s being brought to their knees. “I hear you haven’t seen or felt rock bottom yet.” I even hear an ancestor saying, “watch this.” I’m getting the imagery of very divine and large beings sitting in a row of chairs. Almost like the last supper or the imagery of it and looking down on what’s happening attentively. This person is undergoing large heart chakra openings or having an awakening here. The imagery of the ace of swords gives me the energy of someone pulling a sword from the earth, after it’s been buried for ages. Someone is finally picking up their sword or stepping into their power here. But I see you being completely inattentive to this here. If you’re even reading this right now this is a privilege to them to have you sit and see what it is they’re going through. Someone’s not available and has made themselves unavailable or out of reach.

This person is so stubborn, they’re hard headed, and they’ve sorted planted themselves firmly in their place and have refused to move. They’re obsessed with status or are obsessed with keeping up some sort of facade or reputation to protect themselves or make them appear invulnerable, heartless, reckless and damaging. This person could like to fight, could be someone whose met with a lot of criticism or always is pushing up against or things. Using or manipulating some sort of influence. I see you coming to terms with this person and not resonating with who they are and not seeing any admirable qualities within this person any longer. This person is going to have to fight their way through the thick of the situation that they’ve built for themselves, undergoing inner purging, arising out of karmic cycles, disconnecting from karmic connections in all sorts and shapes.

This person is avoiding making hard decisions and setting themselves apart from others and owning up to their mistakes and actions. Something about this persons lack of accountability may trigger deep childhood wounds within you of some sort or be a pet peeve that you dislike very intensely in others that you now dislike very intensely within them. This person has to make a choice. The right one this time after a long time of playing games with the divine and playing games within the lives of others. They’re going to have to be reborn and undergo immense transformation and change. And this is what is going on. There’s a massive tower moment in store for them they you won’t be there for or won’t be a bystander in. This is for them to experience all on their own. It’s very likely that you may find this persons demise satisfying or be apathetic towards their hard ship at this time, I almost typed heart ship. You may be apathetic toward their internal conflict and heartbreak as well. It’s a long time coming I heard.

Someone is allowing the scales to be balanced out and protecting themselves by being nowhere near this incoming explosion or tower moment. They won’t be stepping in, helping to protect this person from their karma, or hiding this person away from their shadows. I’m getting imagery of the shadow man or Dr. facilliers death in the princess and the frog. This person is so unattractive to you right now. After a long time potentially of being your wish fulfillment and end all be all.

Messages:

“ I’m scared somebody will take you from me.”

“ I let others interfere with our connection.”

“Go back to our spot.”

“I want to call/text you, but I’m afraid you won’t answer.”

“The warmth of your hands keeps my insecurities away.”

“Don’t give my love to anybody else.”

“I was too stubborn to admit that you were my person.”

“I need closure from you.”

***

ii.

everything is okay pile two, you can relax. You may feel tension in your neck, your back, and feel a lack of energy in your legs or have some leg pain. You’re purging energies, undergoing transformation, and getting ready to accept more gifts and more happiness. Make sure you prioritize your rest, your eating and your overall health. The color blue could be significant, beige or light shades of brown, the color white, doves, crows, cats, and spiders. Snakes as well. If you feel lost, answers are on the way. If you feel alone and/or abandoned, spirit is always standing with you and protecting you. Spirit will not allow you to be mislead, be hurt, or be put in situations that will destroy you. Your spirit guides and ancestors commend you. I hear round of applause, whistling, and chants of encouragement. I actually left and took my ass to bed after pile one because pile one’s energy was crazy asl, I actually know pile one in real life. Bless their heart for real. ANYWAYS!!

channeled:

Tangled up in you- the Alton’s

Heart to heart- Mac Demarco

Let’s stay together- al green

Tell it like it is- Aaron Neville

I put a spell on you- Nina Simone

Fade into you- mazzy star

Relaxation

Inner peace

Fulfillment

222 - you’re on the right path. “signifies good fortune in finances, relationships, and career, as well as a reminder to work towards your soul's purpose.” “symbolize balance, harmony, and spiritual alignment” “the time has come for you to be more self-reflective, and focused on the duality of situations”

444 - your spirit guides are protecting and supporting you. “conveys a powerful message of love, support, and guidance from your angels”

22 - “welcome balance, wisdom, and divine transformation into your life.”

12 - “something in your life has been completed, and it's time to turn your attention away from the past and look into the future.”

896 - personal growth & development. “896 encourages you to put your devotion and efforts towards your spiritual passions and interests, in turn, manifesting abundance and plenty into your life”

888 - “positive flow, abundance, and rewards are coming your way.” “Stay open to abundance in whatever form it appears, not just what we expect or want”

8 - infinite possibilities

0 - “the number 0 is ultimately about unconditional love. "The force of love is around you all the time, taking the form of other people, opportunities, and even moments of clarity”

65 - “Angel Number 65 is giving you a message from the guardian angels that your efforts to transform and improve your life are being appreciated by the divine energies.”

100 - “symbol of new beginnings, manifestation, and spiritual guidance.” “aligning oneself with eternity while finding balance between our inner world and outer reality so that true harmony may exist within us.”

110 - “it’s time to manifest your dreams.”

Sleep

Relaxation

Careful consumption of media

Deciding on morals & boundaries

Candles

Journaling

Shadow work

Smoke cleansing

Water cleansing

Detox

Rejuvenation

Chrysalis

Hibernation

Mother Nature

Mother Earth

The Moon

Menstrual cycle

Divine feminine energy

The metaphysical

Inner child

Inner compass

Erykah badu

***

pile two… this person.. this person.. I’m so obsessed. This person is open and genuine. They may have expressed to you so much already but anything their withholding is more and further confirmation of deeper feelings and desire to do more for you and offer you more love and more peace. You may be in a relationship with this person, this gives committed relationship vibes, it doesn’t give situationship vibes, nothing is in the air, there’s no dust kicked up or fog that’s obstructing the clarity of the situation. It is what the two of you say it is, it looks like exactly what it is. It sounds like exactly what it is, devotion. Amy winehouse “love is a losing game” just came on, I have it playing on my tv and I just turned it up because it’s playing so quietly all of a sudden when my volume is already high and everything else was loud and clear.

It kind of gives me the impression that anything within the energy of loss and heartbreak is over and silenced. Spirit is covering your ears and covering your eyes to perspectives and ideas that aren’t in alignment with this connection and the love you share. The song just ended, “tell it like it is” just came on, blaring loud I was like 🫨🫨🫨. This person is a real man or a real woman. They’re ready to love you, to give you everything. They’re asking that you be honest and bare your soul and tell me them how you feel. Pride aside, fear aside. This person loves you beyond the fear and ego. I’m getting sensual energy, it’s deep and it’s passionate lol I feel like someone is squeezing my heart right now. This person applies pressure or they really get you riled up. I’m feeling all of this persons feelings. I hear my heart in my ears, you know those chills you get when you listen to oldies, the blues, or that STANK face you make when you feel something deep in your spirit. This person is in your spirit, coursing through your veins right now lol. I haven’t even began reading through the cards. UGH! Unhand me immediately!!!

This is like an intensely passionate saxophone solo. If this person is silent in any way, it’s because they’re trying to take action in their lives to get themselves in a position to show you how much they love you in a material and physical aspect. They already have laid out so much love for you to have but they want to give you more. They want to over fill your cup. They fill your cup. Your cup is full but I keep hearing “more.” I’m seeing imagery here of a divine masculine giving you everything in his pockets or anything that he has and carries with him. For some of you this is a divine masculine energy. They know your love and devotion isn’t free and isn’t cheap. They’re willing to put it all on the line. They’re even becoming more enlightened spiritually. I see the imagery of the five of pentacles and one of the men on the card is looking up the sky here. This person is looking to the heavens behind you, looking to the divine, to the moon, to spirit. Showing their gratitude, asking for and manifesting success for them to give you, asking for and manifesting safety and protection over this connection.

This person is not undecided about you, they’ve made a decision. They have some self doubt about how well they’ll be able to show up for you or how able they will be to provide you with everything you deserve because they smell your divinity, they wouldn’t do wrong by you, betray you, or give you less than what you deserve. I’m hearing “don’t” by Bryson tiller. This person feels sorry for your exes. This person is ready to give you everything and do anything on your behalf and it only gets more intense everyday. This person is in their bag or about to be, making plans for the two of you, planning a future for the two of you, making decisions and making choices behind you and your influence and your presence in their life. Financial choices, spiritual choices, emotional choices.

This person is thinking of all the things the two of you can do together or build together it’s their primary focus. Any of this persons silence is them exercising self restraint or making room for you or for this connection to unfold and blossom naturally. They want you to feel safe and feel valued despite how passionate they feel or how much they want to envelope you in all of their love and desire. This person is levitating right now. They often feel they have to take moments to pull back and gather up their energy and bring themselves down from a high or an obsessive part of them that feels driven to you.

This person, in their silence, is constantly thinking about more ways to be honest with you, value your boundaries, express their own, communicate their feelings to you. This person wants to earn your trust and your devotion.

messages:

“ save the date.”

“ will you marry me?”

This person is most definitely thinking long term commitment, sees you as someone who could be their wife or husband. Wants to live harmoniously with you and have you for a long time ❤️

“you’re a witch.”

This person feels as though you have so much power over them. They constantly feel your influence. You could be into witchcraft or be into spirituality and manifestation and they believe in your power and divinity wholeheartedly. They don’t doubt you.

“You have so much power over me.”

“Healing my mother wound.”

You could’ve brought to light some maternal issues within this person or opened their eyes to the gravity of a situation regarding their mother.

“Sending you all my love.”

“You have my undivided attention.”

“Open your heart to me. Let me in.”

“Please wait for me.”

***

iii.

This reading is being done in such immensely high and free floating energy. Someone is relaxing into something or surrendering, I’m getting imagery of someone being fully submerged into something warm or something with healing properties or that has the intention of transforming and rejuvenating them and restoring magic within the spirit. I’m getting Steve lacy - infrunami. Someone was hiding in plain sight here or may have been hiding away on purpose but the both of you are being met with true devotion from one another. There’s a lot of passion and longing I’m feeling. Someone misses someone or has plans to come to someone and be near them. Spirit is telling me, “I’m giving you space to miss one another or come to terms with who one another really are and what you meant to one another after a long time of being right underneath each others noses” there’s this energy of truths being revealed, the light or divinity in someone or the both of you being revealed. Someone within this collective may be drawn to pile two or have messages in two piles.

channeled:

Love on the brain - Rihanna

Infrunami - Steve Lacy

Tears dry on their own - Amy winehouse

Mercy mercy - Marvin Gaye

Let’s stay together - Al Green

Wet dreamz - J. Cole

CPR - Summer Walker

Trust - Brent Faiyaz

(There is) no greater love - amy winehouse

Just another interlude- Bryson tiller

Glory box- Portishead

Wholeness

Accepting love

Energy of recieving

Gifts

Divine timing

Divine plan

“Proud of you.”

Appreciation

Music

66 - “a powerful symbol of balance and harmony.”

67 - “you are on the right path and to keep going.” “prosperity and good fortune are on their way.”

68 - “your angels are encouraging you to take a leap of faith and start something new”

88 - “great success, abundance, and prosperity.” “ This number's presence is a positive sign for matters of the heart, often associated with the abundance of love and blessings.”

99 - “spiritual growth and awakening” “it confirms that your bond is based on mutual respect, understanding, and love. But, there's always an opportunity to enter a new phase of even deeper connection.”

600 - “Your material security and wellbeing are protected. Balance, harmony, and stability in your relationships. Spiritual growth and higher understanding.”

666 - “ a positive and transformative message from the celestial realm, representing self-discovery and spiritual essence”

789 - “number centers around healing and self-care. This number encourages you to take time for yourself and to focus on your own well-being. It serves as a reminder that it's important to make sure your emotional, physical, and spiritual health are all taken care of.”

884 - “ a powerful reminder that you should stay open to what life brings your way. It's time to trust that everything is happening for a reason. The angels are reminding you to stay in alignment with your heart and soul. If you do, the universe will aspire to bring you what you need.”

200 - “conveys a message of hope and optimism for your future endeavors”

211 - “guides us to maintain balance and harmony within our relationships.” “a positive omen that learning to trust yourself will set you free”

Equal give & take

Space to be yourself

Satisfaction

Overcoming fears

Emotional stability

Messages/calls

Abundance

Self-care

Singing

Throat chakra

Chakra activation

Kundalini activation

Intense physical & emotional intimacy

Support

Devotion

Red roses

Vinyl records

1970s

History

***

This person is carrying with them a lot of emotional stress and burdens here but I also see them carrying themselves almost. Like they’re trying to hold themselves back from coming face to face with you on a deep and personal level. This person is having hard time and is tired and a little burnt out from feeling as though they have to suppress their devotion or their love for you. This person is incredibly attached to you as well as sexually attracted to you. They may hide from you or try to create space between the two of you so that you won’t see just how much they like you or how much they want to be with you, how much they want to be intensely intimate with you. This person overthinks a lot, they’re an anxious person and they’re afraid of embarrassing themselves in front of you or disappointing you. This person also feels like they might inconvenience you greatly by being authentic with you due to past connections and heart break that made them seem or feel like they weren’t important or valued or weren’t owed loyalty or devotion because of the way they were when they they showed up honestly. This persons needs weren’t met and their nervous system is in overdrive trying to overcome their fear of being close to someone again despite how much they love they hold for you in their heart.

Someone in this persons past may have gaslit them or told them that they weren’t as special as they advertised themselves to be or that their love and support wasn’t genuine or wasn’t worth fighting for or sticking around for or their portrayed this to them through actions. This person has been tired, carrying a lot of tension in their bodies, or are burnt out from how much energy it takes for them to keep themselves from you. Heard the worst by Jhene aiko, not necessarily the whole entire song but “I don’t need you but I want you.” And “I don’t mean to, but I love you.” But this person, they’re afraid, because they think that they love you but are afraid to tell you or reveal their love to you through words and action. This person feels as though you’re meant for them and they constantly feel the need to apologize for pushing you away or holding off from you out of fear.

This person adores you, they care for you genuinely, and they feel they’ve been blessed with and given divine love. You may come as a surprise to this person, you catch them off guard, or appeal to them in a profound way due to past experiences. I hear this person hoping and wishing that nothing takes you away from them. This person is in a constant state of healing and transformation in order to accept you. Manifesting their fear away, taking steps to let you see them, practicing putting down their weapons, leaving their past in the past, and breaking down the walls they’ve built around themselves in order to call and manifest true love and now you’ve arrived and the walls are ready to come crashing down. This person is reprioritizing things within their life as well. They could’ve had to shift into their dark feminine energy if this is a feminine energy. This person could’ve had to remove people from their lives, undergo a lot of purging, awakening and healing in order to put themselves in their divinely ordained position to receive love and love themselves.

This person is coming to terms with the fact that the worst is over and they won’t have to fight anymore and that they can fall into you finally and be taken care of and loved correctly. They’re in the process of coming to terms with the fact that the past is in the past and they no longer have to revisit it or hold onto it. That they’re safe. That nothing else can harm them any longer.

messages:

“Every song reminds me of you.”

“You taught me what real love is.”

“Divine masculine.”

you represent true masculine energy to this person. True divine masculine energy. Especially if you identify as the divine masculine within this connection.

“You have a lot of heart.”

“Lover.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you away. I didn’t understand you, I didn’t understand my feelings.”

“Forgive me.”

“My souls purpose is to love you & be loved by you.”

*double confirmation about spending time apart.*

***

Hope this served you right and brought you Justice and true clarity! I enjoyed curating this reading, thank you for co-creating my reading by being apart of the beautiful collective, by loving my work, by being patient with me! You are so loved and valued. ❤️!

[senespera-ffxiv]

Bakooling His Ja Ja's

Okay so this entire thing started when my friend and I started seeing posts about how Bakool Ja Ja would have two Ja Ja’s. And so I was like “hmm I wonder what lizards actually have” and here I am at the bottom of this rabbit hole wondering how I got here

I’m gonna split this into roughly three sections

The sexual anatomy of lizards (as explained by someone who knows about it through wikipedia)

The potential neural circuitry of a two-headed individual’s nads (as explained by someone who refuses to look up case studies that could elaborate on this so this is largely speculative)

The implications of the first two sections on what certain activities with Bakool Ja Ja would be like

//NSFW TEXT AND CARTOONISH IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT

//There's no actual things there, just badly drawn Ja Ja's lol

Section 1: The Sexual Anatomy of Lizards

Our journey starts with a thing called a Hemipenis. Now, when I first looked this up I was also severely confused cuz I was like “what the fuck is a hemipenis, is it like half a penis, like a fucking cylinder that got cut in half or something” well turns out they’re a little bit more fucked up than that

They are essentially inverted dicks that are pushed out by erectile tissue, and lizards will typically have two. They can also be ornamented with shit like spines, it all looks very weird unfortunately they very much do look like dicks on lizards so I’m gonna include one from a rattlesnake instead which just kinda looks like a spiny blob that way tumblr admins don’t kill me

The weirdest part is that the tube through which semen flows is Outside (unlike in the human penis where the urethra should be inside the penis) and is instead called the Sulcus Spermaticus. I can only assume this translates to “cum groove” in Latin.

I should also mention something about the spines cuz there’s multiple theories as to why they’re there. Cuz a spiny dick seems somewhat counterproductive to sex.

Theory #1 is that it’s involved in a lock-and-key mechanism to ensure that no one else that isn’t a lizard of that same species can fuck it. Female lizards have been observed to have cloacas with similar structures to male lizard hemipenes, etc.

Theory #2 is that the spines are there to promote longer and more successful reproduction for males. Make of this information what you will.

There’s also theories as to why there’s two dicks and it has to do with how female lizards can just kinda store semen for later, which does mean that it’s possible that even after fucking a male lizard won’t be able to actually have children. Thus, the two dicks come in for multiple consecutive fuck sessions, that way if one starts running out of juice the other one can sub in while the first one recovers.

Section 2: The Potential Neural Circuitry of a Two-Headed Individual’s Nads

I’m not looking up case studies for this so you’ll get my neurobio undergrad speculative theories on this shit, but there’s two possibilities I can think of for Bakool Ja Ja’s specific situation, and it has to do with how bifurcated his two heads’ nervous systems are.

Their nervous systems are only really differentiated at the neck up (implies that their spinal cords merge at or just below the neck)

Their nervous systems are bifurcated across the entire body (implies that their spinal cords either don’t merge at all or only merge at the very bottom)

As an additional note I should mention that by spinal cord I mean the nerves themselves. Most likely even if their spinal cords didn’t merge, they’d be running in parallel and be shaped in such a way as to resemble a normal spinal cord, just with a gap maybe right down the middle

So there’s a concept in neurology known as a “Dermatome” which is essentially a region of skin that is innervated by sensory neurons from dorsal root of any given spinal nerve (of which the major dermatomes are defined by the spinal nerve they originate from).

Using this concept, we can maybe define the Dermatomes on Bakool Ja Ja similarly, and this is where the organization of his spinal cords matter. If scenario #1 is correct, then his dermatomes will look similar to that of a human. Sensory information is also most likely copied and sent to both heads, meaning that both heads will be able to sense what happens to their entire body

If scenario #2 is correct, however, then we have something slightly more interesting and it’s that each head receives somatosensory information from the contralateral (opposite) side of the body, similar to how the brain’s two halves receive somatosensory information from the rest of the body. Here’s a really low quality diagram from my kinesiology class that shows the ascending pathways for discriminative touch (orange) and pain/temperature/affective touch (brown)

You can see that no matter where specifically they cross over, both pathways do end up crossing over to the other side. Here’s a rough diagram of how this would work out for Bakool Ja Ja that I drew myself with the relevant “dermatomes” (these aren’t actual dermatomes I just highlighted which dick is wired to which head) highlighted

The three testicles were added for sexual effect, I don’t think lizards actually have testicles but I added them to Bakool Ja Ja. For you. Please recognize my sacrifice.

Suffice it to say I’m going with Scenario #2. Not because it’s scientifically accurate or anything (scenario #1 makes more logical sense in like every single universe), but because it has funnier implications. Speaking of implications—

Section 3: The implications of the first two sections on what certain activities with Bakool Ja Ja would be like

This section is going to get NSFW real fast so you have been warned

Using our conclusion from Section #2, we can see that Bakool Ja Ja’s two Ja Ja’s will only send sensory information up to their respective head. This means that if you’re doing anything to one of them, only one head will be feeling anything, meaning that this legendary tweet by @kwehzy is now mandatory so that you don’t accidentally blue ball one of the heads

Also DP or at the very least two consecutive fuck sessions will also be mandatory to avoid blue balling one of them. Unless if that’s your goal in which case more power to you.

However, the entire universe will be working to try and stop you from fucking that two-headed lizard man because his dicks have a decently high chance of being hooked and/or covered in spikes. This has stopped exactly 0 people from trying to fuck lizardmen anyways so I don’t know why I even mentioned this, just try not to break anything.

Given all of the evidence in Section #1, whatever you decide to do with Bakool Ja Ja’s Ja Ja’s will probably end up taking a really fucking long time, so enjoy I guess

That’s it, that’s all the analysis I had. tl;dr Bakooling his Ja Ja’s will be a lengthy and potentially dangerous affair with high potential to accidentally fuck over one of the heads. Have fun.

[psicheanima]

Omg Angel is supper pretty in your style!! Like, I have never seen him portrayed in such way but it somehow works very well! What are your personal opinions on him though?

Well, in 2019, they were my favorite CSM character (majority of Makima’s depth had not been revealed yet.) unfortunately, the popularity of CSM has soured them a bit in my view because while prior, no one cared about them, so I didn’t see any opinions on them. It was just my personal echo chamber. Basically anything I wanted to say about them, or think about them, was all there was.

But now, Angel has become a very popular character, been fetishized, and twisted unnaturally into something they are not to fit into peoples heteronormative views of their relationship with Aki. They are drawn and written by the majority (and simply characterized this way by non creatives) as an infantile whiny brat, and a dress up doll. I don’t feel majority of Angel fans care about their character. In fact, I’d say a cool 5% do.

My favorite thing about Angel is their religious imagery, their memory wipe and being forced into a never ending slave role while robbed of everything that makes them happy, even Down to small things like “down time.” Every moment Angel complains about working is recontestualied by the ending knowledge that Angel was living a happy, peaceful life and has that ripped from them— not only forced into a role as weapon but forced to weaponise the lives of the people who had cared for them.

This meshes incredibly well with Aki who willingly takes upon the role of weapon, and forgoes any “human” luxuries, stripping himself of personhood until he realizes that killing yourself for a dead family is impossible when you have a real, living family who loves you. They’re tragedies in opposite directions. They build off the other so well, you can tell Angel was crafted with Aki’s character in mind.

But I don’t see that really discussed. It’s just sexualization, and specifically thinly veiled transmisogynist rhetoric, and that really disgusts me. So I’ve been turned off from the character to avoid seeing that things. From an objective standpoint, top 5 character in the series. Thank you very much for the compliment, I’m happy then that my portrayal of them is something different from the norm. I’m very glad :)

[batwritings]

Hi again Bat!! Hope your year’s going well so far. Got a couple more requests-hope you don’t mind!

Can I get Gaz with a rival reader, who’s not exactly his enemy, but has always been his competition? Basically, they’ve been frenemies since selection, before they even both got into their respective positions in 141. Between their silent competitions during training, to their snarky comments to each other during missions, they’re always trying to one-up each other. Eventually, at some point, they find themselves struggling for some semblance of control over the other in bed, desperate to win once and for all.

-Hybrid

Hmm, I don't think I've ever written anything like this! Let's give it a whirl! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Kyle Garrick have never gotten on well. It wasn't that you were on bad terms necessarily. The two of you had just always been neck and neck in everything, it really did give off that imagery some days.

From the moment you were selected top in one of your shared classes, to the placement of each of you on TF141. In everything, Gaz was you rival to the end. So it wasn't a surprised to see him in front of your door with a frustrated expression one night.

"I had that," he growled as you let him into your barracks. "But nooo, you just had to step in and take up the limelight didn't you?" You couldn't help but smirk, shrugging slightly as he crossed his arms defiantly.

"Wow Sergeant," you mocked, sitting back against your cot. "Didn't realize this would have you in such a tizzy. You gonna do something about it for once?" You spread your legs a bit, clearly meaning to be teasing. It was something you did all the time after a singular instance of catching the man staring while the two of you had to quickly change on a mission. Yet never once did your teammate choose to act on it.

You watched with rapt attention as chocolate eyes looked between your spread legs and your face with a distinct sneer. "You know what?" he says, uncrossing his arms, balled fists at his sides. "I am."

Before you can ask him what he'll do, Gaz is between your legs. He pushes you back against your bed, hold your arms above your head with one hand and a confident smirk. You blush wildly, clearly not expecting the reciprocation and how aroused that simple act just made you.

Eager to turn the tides, you lean up and kiss him roughly, moaning when it's returned without hesitation. Your legs hook behind his, forcing him on you further. The man hums, slipping a hand down your front to rub against your sex.

You rock your hips up, making your two sexes touch behind his hand. Gaz groans, kisses now trailing from your lips to your jaw and down your neck. You sigh in pleasure as the two of you start rocking your hips together.

It's as if the sergeant knew all of your weak spots, easily bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Meanwhile, your filthy words were egging him on just as bad. "Fuck you feel so good Kyle," and "Please fuck, harder, more--" were things that drove him absolutely wild.

Unfortunately for you, you wouldn't be winning your little spat. One well placed nip against your clothed nipple was the breaking point, having you come undone against his clothed sex. Little appreciative kisses were pressed into your skin as your teammate praised you, ceasing all movement as to not overwhelm you.

"Well done Y/N," Gaz purrs with a rather sweet kiss pressed to your cheek. "Think that gets us even now doesn't it?" You roll your eyes, smiling deviously.

"Oh we're not done here sergeant."

[meetmyothersouls]

First Time for Everything

Chapter 2

Warnings: nightmares, vomiting, lots of talk of murder and vague mentions to cannibalism, strong language and imagery, I also changed this from second person to first person y/n (chapter one is in second person),

Snap-snap-snap

The sound grabs my attention, but I can’t focus on anything. It’s too dark. My eyes must’ve missed their chance to gradually adjust to complete darkness, allowing small shapes and figures to come into view. I can’t see shit. It’s a darkness I remember well but wish I didn’t. One that’s hungry and mean. It smells familiar. Like the scent of an unfortunate childhood.

Where am I?

Snap-snap-snap

It echos, bouncing off of walls that might as well be nonexistent. I squint my eyes, as if that will somehow make up for the lack of light in…wherever I am. Where’s the sound coming from? I turn my body. More darkness but this time there’s a door, only put into view by the light that’s shining from behind the frame, allowing the tiniest bit of soft yellow light to illuminate the darkness.

Snap-snap-snap

It’s louder now. More rapid and urgent. The light behind the door is interrupted by shadows. Four of them in what I realize are feet. Who do they belong to?

“She’s just a child,” a woman says. Her voice is soft and familiar.

“A child that needs to learn, Vanessa,” another familiar voice says. It’s one I should know. One I do know but I’ve locked in the farthest recesses of my mind. And Vanessa. I definitely knew a Vanessa.”

“Randall,” Vanessa warns. “Don’t hurt her.” She sounds nervous now and I find myself scooting on my ass desperate to get as far away from the door as possible.

Snap-snap-snap

This time the sounds are accompanied with something new. Shaking. I’m shaking. I can feel it.

“I’m not going to hurt her, dumb ass,” Randall says, his tone highly annoyed, like he’s talking to someone small and stupid and pathetic. “I’m going to teach her. A few minutes with me is all she’ll need.”

The door opens and I see Vanessa’s shadow on the wall as she leaves. Then Randall comes into view only I can’t see him. He’s just a massive shadow. A void in front of the yellow light of the hallway. He stands there menacingly, and I realize I’m still scooting away. I scoot, and scoot, and scoot but my back never presses against a corner or a wall or…anything. I'm trying so hard to get away, but I can’t. It’s like I’m moving backward on a treadmill with no end in sight. Then, the shadow lunges for me, his hands like claws fully extended and ready to-

“Y/N!”

Snap-snap-snap

I gasp and my eyes shoot open. I’m taking in gulps of air like I hadn’t even been breathing. I clutch my chest and sit up straight. It’s still dark but I can tell I’m in a car. Which is odd considering I’ve not been in a car in years.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man sitting in the drivers seat says. I know it’s Lee but my mind is fleeting so rapidly I can’t even look at him. I need to get out.

I jump, my heart pounding so quickly I feel like I’m about to vomit. I reach for the door handle of the moving car and pull.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Y/n, stop! Relax!” Lee's pulling me by my elbow which only makes me panic more.

“Let me out. Let me out. I gotta get out. Can’t breathe,” I say, gulping down air like it’s water.

“Okay, shit, I’ll pull over!”

He pulls over and I spill out of the car the before it’s fully stopped. I empty my stomach onto the ground as Lee puts the car into park. The car we stole. From the man he killed. And ate. Things start falling back into place and the events from earlier flood my brain. Lee slams his door, and I can hear his footsteps crunching against the gravel as he walks over to me. There’s still blood on his shirt. Immediately I gag, but nothing happens other than both sides of my ribcage painfully pressing together.

“Fuck,” Lee breathes out as if he’s exhausted. I look up at him and he’s running a hand through his hair. There’s blood caked under his fingernails. I gag again. “You good?”

“Your shirt,” I say though a shaky breath.

“What about it?”

“Can you get rid of it?”

“That’s the weirdest way I’ve been asked to get naked, but okay.”

“I don’t want to see you naked! Your shirt has blood on it from the man you killed!”

“ShhhHHH!!!” Lee shushes me. He’s starting to bring his filthy palm up to my face and I shake my head, baking away from him. “You can’t just scream that shit out loud, y/n, fuck.” Still, he takes off his shirt and laces it through a belt loop at his side. It won’ fix the disgusting state of his fingernails, but it will at least keep my gagging at bay. “And just so we’re clear, I killed him to save you. You’re welcome.”

Lee plops down onto the curb next to me. “You done puking? I wanna make sure I’m out of the splash zone.”

“I think I’m done,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I sit next to him and realize we’re on a highway. A dead one. It’s dark but not too dark, I can see my surroundings, which is nothing but highway for miles in between dense forest on both sides. Cicadas and crickets chirp in unison filling the night with their song. That’s enough to tell me we’re still in North Carolina.

“What was all that?” Lee asks.

“All what?”

“Well you whimpering in your sleep for starters.”

“I wasn’t whimpering!” I answer too quickly and way too defensively.

“Okay whatever the fuck it was, what was it?”

“I had a nightmare I think.”

Lee fishes a single cigarette from his pocket and lights it. “Damn,” he says after taking a long drag from it. He blows the smoke in the opposite direction of me. “Wanna talk about it?”

I open my mouth, then close it. I get nauseous even thinking of the pitch black room, the hauntingly familiar smell and voices. And the shadows. “Where are we?”

“About an hour away from Asheville,” Lee says, not seeming to mind my sudden change of subject. “Smoke?” He asks, holding his cigarette out to me between his thumb and index finger.

“Your hands are filthy.”

Lee takes his cigarette back and laughs. “You always this uptight?”

“Only after I see a man eat another human.”

“Ah you’re still stuck on that?”

“Of course I’m stuck on that! It’s not exactly normal, you know.”

“And yet you still got into a car with me. A stolen one at that.” Lee arches an eyebrow at me and smirks.

“Well, you saved me so.”

“So what?”

“I don’t know,” I say and stand back up. He’s getting on my nerves and I don’t know why.

“You and I,” Lee says straining his words as he stands up with me, “we’re not that different.”

“Oh yes we are.”

“Not really. Watch. You’ll see.”

“What do you mean ‘you’ll see’?”

Lee walks back to the car. He opens the door and stands on the the inside, resting his elbow on the hood of the car. “You hungry?”

I haven’t moved from my spot on the side of the road. I must have quite the expression on my face because he smirks at me again. And even though he’s filthy and a murderer I’m doing everything I can not to admit that he’s extremely attractive. I can’t get close to anyone. Definitely not someone like him. “What do you mean ‘you’ll see’?” I demand, I cross my arms and stand my ground.

Lee rolls his eyes, “I just mean you’ll see. Now come on, I want waffles and maybe a steak.”

Food sounds revolting to me right now. I don’t move.

“Jesus, y/n, what? You have somewhere else to go?”

I hate how he uses my name like he knows me so well. I hate that him saying my name at all does something to me it shouldn’t. He’s a murderer.

“Look,” Lee says pointing ahead of us into nothingness. “You can head that way into bum fuck nowhere or you can go back that way and go visit our little friend-well what’s left of him-back in that dumpster in Charlotte. And lemme tell ya, where there’s one of that guy, there’s hundreds. Walking around lurking in the shadows and you don’t even know they’re there or what they are until it’s too late. Or you can come with me. What’s it gonna be, y/n.”

He’s looking at me expectantly, knowing he’s already won. I sigh and make my way back to the car. I step over the mess I made and plop into the dirty passenger seat. We drive in silence for at least thirty minutes before Lee speaks up again. “Look, y/n, I’m not forcing you to come with me. If you’ve got somewhere to be or someplace you want me to drop you off just tell me, I’ll take you there.”

I look over at him, but he’s focused on the road, his dirty hands gripping the steering wheel. “Where are you going anyway?” I ask.

Lee shrugs, “I was gonna stop in Asheville first.”

“Why?”

Now he looks over at me. “I love it there.” He smiles and it’s a genuine one and I have to look away because it damn near melts my heart. “But if you want me to take you some place else first, I will.”

I sigh, looking at the blurry trees zipping by. I hope in my next life I’m a tree. “I don’t have anyone. Or anywhere to go.”

“No family?”

“No. Well none that give a shit about me.”

“No friends?”

“No.”

We’re both silent again, but it’s not the bad kind. It’s the kind that I’m comfortable with. And I can tell that he is too. Silence is golden.

“I knew it,” Lee finally says.

“Knew what?” I ask, taking my gaze away from the blur of trees to look at him again.

Lee turns and smiles at me, but this time I don’t look away. “That you’re a loner like me.”

We stare at each other for what feels like too long. Then, Lee shakes his head breaking out stare as he eases on the breaks and pulls into a Waffle House parking lot.

“Hope you like Waffle House,” Lee says as he clicks off his seatbelt. He walks around the car and opens my door for me, the action itself jarring. No one’s ever opened a door for me. I shove that thought to the back of my head, in a sad attempt to not let it do anything to me. He’d do that for anyone.

We scooted into a booth, Lee sitting across from me. “My sister and I used to come here all the time.”

I only nod as I look at the menu, choosing not to ask any follow up questions to his statement so that I don’t have to talk about my family in return.

“You got any siblings?”

I fight back a sigh. “Nope. Only child.”

“Really? Your childhood must’ve been lonely. My sister and I-”

The waitress, an old woman with frizzy blonde hair, shocking red lipstick and a name tag that read Deborah in handwritten cursive comes up to our table. She smacks her gum loud and I can see the lime green wad as she flicks it around with her tongue. As much as I am grateful she interrupted Lee’s family talk, I have to look away to keep myself from gagging. “What are you getting?”

“I’ll have the four waffles and a T-bone, medium rare, and a coffee. Black,” Lee says, practically salivating. Then looks over to me.

“Oh. Uh. I’ll just have a coffee I think.”

Deborah blows a massive bubble with her gum and looks at me like there’s got to be more to my order.

“I’ll give her one of my waffles,” Lee winks and hands Deborah our menus.

Deborah rolls her eyes and pockets her pen and note pad. Seconds later she brings back two steaming mugs of coffee. Lee drinks is straight apparently while I dump five sugars into mine and four of the tiny cups of creamer. In what seems like not long enough to cook an entire steak and four waffles, Deborah’s back in five minutes with Lee’s food and an extra plate for me. “Enjoy,” she says in a tone that sounds more like she hopes we choke on it. My stomach turns at the sight of the plate. Lee’s steak is sitting in a pool of brownish-red liquid. The bottom waffle in the stack of four is soggy with the blood and liquid that seeped out of the steak as it cooked. I look into my coffee to escape the sight.

“So-”

“Please tell me you’re going to wash your hands.”

Lee smirks. “Right. Of course. Be right back. That top waffle is for you if you want it.”

I wait until he’s in the bathroom to get up and grab a few of the pamphlets and maps in the stands at the front of the restaurant. For some reason knowing exactly where I am and where we could be going is grounding for me. I feel calmer, more in control. There are broachers for nearby landmarks and attractions. Gatlinburg, Tennessee, Dollywood, a zoo that’s a about an hour from this restaurant, a Georgia aquarium and various museums, several maps of the Smokey Mountains, and like Lee mentioned, Asheville, North Carolina. I grab them all. When I get back to the table, Lee is already seated and digging into his steak. He's already slid the top waffle onto my plate.

“Doing some research?” Lee asks with a mouthful of steak.

“Just like to know what’s around,” I admit.

He stops chewing and smiles, the meat a ball inside of his cheek. “Don’t trust me?”

I slide into my seat and poke at my waffle. “I’m not sure it’s safe to trust anyone.”

“But me specifically. Right now, you don’t trust me.”

I shrug. “Should I?”

“Are you afraid I’m gonna eat ya?”

I look around before ducking my head “I don’t think we should talk about this in public."

"It's 2:30 in the morning, y/n, no one's here but us and Deborah. Think about it, if I wanted to do something to you, anything, I could have by now. But you're sitting here in this fine establishment with me and you're not the one in a plastic bag in some random dumpster."

"You want me to trust you?"

Lee flashes me that stupid fucking smirk I'm starting to like a lot as he shoves a piece of steak in his mouth. "I'd like it if you did, yeah."

I poke at my waffle before grabbing the pitcher like container of butter pecan syrup and pour it on my plate. I look up and Lee isn't eating anymore. He's still got his knife and his fork in each hand but he's looking at me. Waiting. "Then explain it to me."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Lee pushes his half-eaten plate to the side. He grabs all the condiments from our table as well as the salt and pepper shakers and pushes them into the center.

"I am so glad you asked. Allow me to demonstrate."

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @roseboysareprettier @onlyenoughiamweird

[maygrcnt]

what’s construction on sunset?

OH BROTHER, i am honestly honored to get to explain this. unfortunately i’m going to reference a lot of meta and commentary that i don’t actually have links or access to but trust me that im a reliable source for what was going on in the fandom in season four.

so in episode 4x08 eddie comes home from a date with ana and the following dialogue ensues between buck and eddie “you’re late!” “there was construction on sunset” and … brother i can’t tell you what was in the water but things went bonkers. it was like if couch theory had absolutely no canon basis or reasoning.

basically what all the discussion boiled down to was that the construction represented buddie being “in progress”. there was a lot of pulling of sunset imagery from buck and eddie scenes to show how the line could relate to them (of which there is MUCH more of now which is why there’s a resurgance in people referencing the theory)

and then when eddie got shot it kinda got a second life because the concept of “construction” while eddie was in the hospital was a lot. anyway it’s just a rly funny inside joke that is silly to bring up as a short hand for delusion lmao. also i have a t shirt that says there was construction on sunset (shoutout to that etsy seller if you’re still on 911blr hello!) and i wear it whenever i want to manifest a buddie scene

[bitbugbites-re]

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 | 𝖑𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

3 shots was all it took for you to get tipsy enough to drag Leon, your coworker, from a run-down bar to a bustling club. 3 shots, that was all it took, to kick-start the night that had you on top of the man you trusted your life with.

a03 link

word count: ~3.5k

gender: fem! reader

cw: NSFW, (some) FLUFF // collaring, sweat, embracing, ref. to re4r as a mission, car sex, drinking, semi-public sex, unprotected sex // ktober

a/n: i keep going to write these fics/scenarios/etc. telling myself "ok 2k limit at the most!" and i fail miserably each time. someone needs to stop me i CANNOT be DOING all this

p.s. -- if you’re only interested in the smut, you can scroll down until you reach the thin black bar lololol

There was one penny on the floor – no, two pennies. There were two pennies on the floor of the bar; one all mucked-up and one completely spotless. The pennies, for some reason, were absolutely mesmerizing – so much so that you couldn’t even focus on your partner, the man who you’ve trusted with your life countless of times, confessing his love to you in between broken hiccups.

“Look – hic – at me, Y/N.”

You felt his hand rest on your shoulder as you giggled about how silly it was that they put people’s faces on money. Really, it wasn’t even that funny, but after about three shots, you could watch a stinkbug fly into a glass door and that’d be enough to make you fall out of your chair laughing.

When your work partner started to lightly shake you, waiting impatiently for you to give him your undivided attention, you finally turned to look at him.

“Whaaat?” you said with a huff, your brows furrowed. He only stared back at you, very intently, not responding despite his previous desperation to get you to be conscious of him.

You blinked a couple of times, tilting your head as you watched him. His blue eyes bore into your own set of trusty observers, and his eyebrows seemed even more creased than their usual already intimidating positioning. You couldn’t even begin to count the number of times that you’ve mistaken him for being mad at you because of his genetically, pre-disposed done-with-it-all expression. His deeply stoic voice doesn’t help you pick up on his cues, either – and periodically, you find yourself wondering if he’s had this menacing affliction since he was a kid. It always makes you laugh a little when picturing him as a grumpy-looking child, and you prefer this imagery much more than visualizing him as a cheery adolescent. Not because you don’t want him to have had a happy childhood, of course – but because you just can’t see a guy like him having been anything but miserable his entire life. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter, because even if you did have the answer, it’s not like you could’ve changed anything. As unfortunate as it is, he was, and likely will remain as a stone-cold, rock-hard guy for the rest of his life.

“I love you.”

Or not.

You narrowed your eyes at him, squinting. For some reason, you thought this was the logical response when feeling unsure if you had heard him correctly.

Thinking it over for a second, you picked up your previous, now empty shot glass and tapped it against the sleek, wooden counter of the bar. “Ohhhh!” you said, practically yelling, “I love working with you too!”

Now, love was a bit of an exaggeration. You didn’t hate working with Leon, your partner, but you didn’t necessarily adore it either. Work was work. Whether you responded in this way because you were drunk, or because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings – you definitely did not reply the way you did because you truly felt what you stated.

Leon sighed and slumped over a little, with his hand still resting on your shoulder. He looked absolutely defeated. “That's not what I – hic – said.”

One of the bartenders then passed the two of you by, glancing over Leon’s bent posture before shaking his head in pity and clicking his tongue inwardly.

You pursed your lips, leaning your head over in a lackadaisical fashion as you very earnestly focused on what Leon might have meant. Despite his straightforward persona, there was no way in your mind that he said and meant what you had heard. And even if he did, he’s put you in a pretty sudden and awkward position – how was your tipsy ass supposed to respond to a confession in a proper manner?

Finally, Leon removed his arm from your shoulder, plopping it down rather roughly on the counter instead. He began to use his pointer finger as well as his thumb to rub the further ends of his eyebrows, sighing as he did so. Your only response to this display of troubledness was to squeak out a hiccup.

While he wallowed in his defeat, you distracted yourself by becoming more attentive to the music that was playing – and you quickly noticed that it fucking sucked.

Tonight was supposed to be a night where you and Leon were able to blow off steam, to let the harsh realities of the world go for a second. The two of you hadn’t really hung out much outside of work, but after the last particularly grim mission you just returned from a couple of days prior, you suggested the outing to him as a way to get your mind off of things – you figured he might have been going through the same turmoil as you, and even if he wasn’t, it was nice having someone around who understood the storm of shit you’d just gone through.

There had been way too many casualties than you were prepared for, not to mention, one of them being someone who you both started to warm up to as they helped you traverse an unfamiliar area, with unfamiliar people, and unfamiliar peculiarities – one being a fucking mind-altering virus, for christ's sake.

Needless to say, this night was supposed to be for the two of you. So what were you doing in a run-down, half-empty bar, with flickering light fixtures and employees that didn’t know how to queue up good music?

The answer to that question is: well, there’s an obvious answer, which is that you thought Leon would be more comfortable in a place like this – but the fun answer is – you don’t know!

Without hesitation, you hopped down off your bar stool, and from behind, you grabbed onto the top of Leon’s arms, shaking him. He just let you do it.

“Leon! Leon! Leeeooon~!” you chanted, now pressing your palms down in the firm middle-ground between his neck and shoulder blades. Your back-and-forth push and pull of his body became more aggressive as he failed to respond, and you were starting to become more aware of his build. Good god, why is this man so solid? 

Finally, Leon straightened his back, turning around on his stool to look down at you. “What?” he asked, a tired look in his eyes.

“Let’s – hic – let’s go to the bar across the street!” you gleamed, grabbing his hand without delay. 

Leon frowned at your suggestion, shaking his head. “That’s not a good idea–”

You quickly cut him off by yanking him down from his seat, not listening to his disapproval. He stumbled a little, almost falling on his face, but he was quickly able to save his dignity by grabbing onto the edge of the chair in order to hold himself up. Surprisingly, although he had advised against your plans to keep drinking at another establishment, he let you drag him along.

The two of you went into the cold night, walking a bit of a distance before standing outside of a large building adorned with flashing neon lights. There were a couple of groups of people leaning against the walls or on the curb, chatting and smoking away, while music distantly blared from the inside.

“Wait. This isn’t a bar –” Leon started, but you didn’t indulge in his uncertainty, continuing to tug him all the way to the scuffy, grandiose double-doors of what was actually a club.

When you finally walked in, you were met face-to-face with a tall, burly man behind a desk. He informed the two of you that you needed to pay a small entrance fee in order to continue, to which you clumsily fumbled to grab your wallet out of your purse. As soon as you had started to open where you kept your cash, Leon moved in front of you, handing the man his card. It was sweet of him to pay even though he wasn’t keen on coming here, you thought.

Upon entering the actual club itself, you noticed it was bigger than you thought. There were multiple areas to sit at, a huge bar, and an equally giant floor to dance on. Additionally, you also had observed that the club smelled heavily of weed and sweat – to which Leon was quick to discern and point out as well. He didn’t seem too pleased with the scent, and frowned harder with every thick-odered person you passed by. 

The two of you eventually found an open table after a few minutes of exploring, to which you quickly sat down and chatted for a while before telling Leon that you were going to go get each of you another drink. Stopping you, he took hold of your arm, got up, and told you he’d get them for you instead.

It didn’t take long for him to return, and it didn’t take long for the two of you to down your drinks, either. Leon threw his own back, and within a couple of seconds of him having it, it was gone. It was almost impressive how he drank it with desperation – his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed it, which for some odd reason, didn’t go unnoticed by you.

The two of you fooled around for a while, both of you clearly more than a little tipsy as you joked about your superior and his mustache, that both of you thought looked absolutely awful on him. However, as soon as one of your favorite songs started to play over the very-loud speakers, you once again pulled Leon over to the dance floor to go along with another one of your whims.

“Dance with – hic – me, Leon!” you chirped, making him spin you in a circle before pulling his body into yours. He looked down at you with wide eyes, a little unsure what to do with himself. You huffed at his lack of initiative, and let go of him before turning your attention to the DJ, dancing along to the vibrant beats which shook the entire floor due to how loud they were.

It didn’t take long for you to become fully immersed, while as for Leon, he just stood there a little awkwardly, his gaze on both the crowd around him and on you, too.

However, you started to get a little too immersed. Drunk, and not in the clearest of mind – as you started to throw it back right next to your coworker – you continued to get carried away without a care in the world. This proved to be troublesome, when eventually you found yourself less than an inch away from Leon, just barely touching the front of him with your backside. 

The situation got even worse when someone bumped into him from behind, his groin brushing up against you while his hands hopelessly seized hold of your hips as a response to his lack of balance. 

You noticed instantly that he was hard, and you stopped dancing, turning around to look at him. You couldn’t see well in the dark and through the strobe lights, but you could tell he was embarrassed as his hands pulled away from you instantly. 

“S-sorry,” he stammered, stepping back, his hands up defensively. 

You looked him over, not sure how to feel about the previous collision of your bodies. Although, you did know one thing for sure – you thought it was kinda cute how he seemed so nervous about it.

Slowly, you started to approach him with a mischievous smile on your face, throwing your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against him. 

“It’s okay~” you slurred, a lustful gaze in your eyes. You felt the tip of his bulge brush up against you again, and made sure not to push into him too much down there. “How’re you ‘gonna make it up to me?”

He hiccuped in response. You could feel his heart race against your breasts, his entire body seeming warm enough to start a fire with his heat alone. 

Laughing at his dumbfounded reaction, you pulled away, feeling a lot more cold without him up against you. 

You opened your mouth to make a joke about how he was frozen in place, but before you could, he grabbed you with a fervent desire, as well as a slight bit of irritation, locking your lips together with his own. 

Surprised, you accepted the kiss, liking the way he seemed almost a little too passionate with you. The two of you stayed like this for a while, devouring one another with your mouths, running your hands over each other’s bodies, before getting annoyed and leaving the dance floor due to others around you constantly bumping into you or murmuring about your display of affection.

Giggling, you once again tugged Leon along, guiding him out of the club. When outside, you turned to look at him, noticing that his hair was all disheveled and his face was almost entirely pink.

Quirking up a smile at him, the two of you practically ran back to the first bar you went to where you parked your cars. As soon as you got to your car, you unlocked it without a pause, swinging open the back door for you and him to climb into. Once you got in and pulled him in with you, you straddled his lap.

He looked up at you with a gaze filled with longing, and you noticed once again that his heart was about ready to jump out of his chest. 

You leaned down, kissing him, pressing one of your hands against his neck as his head was leaned back against the seat. His hands slowly rose to cup your waist before eventually wrapping his arms around you completely, yanking you into his tight embrace – there was no escape for you now.

Beginning to grind against the swelling in his pants, you heard his breathing start to get heavier, occasionally breaking up it’s steady flow with large inhales and hiccups. Things started to escalate once you placed your hands under his shirt, on top of the band of his work pants. You teased a finger against his skin, feeling him tense his toned stomach at the cold touch – he let out a small moan as well, it’s noise vibrating into your own mouth as you kept up the feverish kiss.

You pulled your finger back and made your way to the front of his pants, starting to unbuckle his belt. It made clinking noises as you unclasped it’s hook, slipping it around his hips and through the belt loops. You tossed it to the car’s floor without a second thought, and began to reach under Leon’s shirt, under his underwear, feeling the skin of his hips just under where the band rests.

Leon moved a hand up, cupping one of your breasts, and that’s when you began to slip up your dress a little before ultimately attempting at clumsily tugging his pants and briefs down to his mid-thigh area. He had sat up a little to help you do this, and as a reward, you lightly bit his lip, earning a sweet sigh to escape from his lips.

Now ready to move onto the next stage, you broke apart the kiss and put some distance between the two of you as you looked him the eyes, cupping his face with a smile. 

“Touch me, Leon,” you said, hiccupping again after you spoke.

His face was serious now, and he took one of his fingers, raising it to your mouth for you to suck. After he deemed that it was sufficiently wet enough, he moved it down low to your folds, pulling aside your panties with his free hand, and inserting it into your core. You moved in to kiss him again, letting out small sighs every time he rubbed softly against the walls of your inner parts.

Eventually, you began to crave more, and he went to insert a second finger. However, before he could, you pulled away from him, reaching for his belt that you had previously tossed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and you only responded with a smile as you wrapped it around his neck. You made a makeshift collar the best you could, and gently inserted a finger in between his neck and the belt before responding.

“Second finger, Leon.” you commanded in a slightly wavering voice, as the alcohol still had quite the effect on you.

Leon listened, pushing in another finger, fucking you with his hand and watching as he did so. He seemed to be in a silent trance, mesmerized by the fact that he was able to do this with you.

You pulled him by his new collar, forcing him to make eye contact with you. His eyes were slightly-lidded, his long eyelashes on full display, along with his wet lips that were waiting – no, begging for you to take hold of them once again. In this moment, he was completely and utterly yours.

After a while of looking at one another as he used his stupidly-big fingers to stroke your sensitive spots, you gently took his hand and clasped it against the back of the seat as if your smaller hand were a chain locked around his bulky wrist. You then, with no hesitation, lowered yourself down onto his freed cock, which had looked painfully red as it pressed inside of you.

Leon let out what sounded like a mix of a grunt and a hiccup as he entered you, and you giggled before leveling yourself on him, wincing a little as you went. Once fully in, you began to grind up against him, your body going back and forth into his hips as you soft-humped him with his cock inside of you. The two of you made small noises together, enjoying the feeling of you mounting him.

Soon enough, you decided to speed things up, now riding him more than grinding or humping against him. He had more of a reaction to this, his muscles constricting as you pushed the shaft skin of his cock back and above the head with every lift and drop of your body. His skin started to get a little sweaty as well, an effect of both the alcohol and the sex, and as such, you leaned over to his neck, licking a stripe up from the base to the edge of his jaw, tasting the perspiration from his balmy body. It tasted very pungent as well as a small bit oily, although you kind of liked it. It was oddly fitting for him, and not the worst taste for a man to have. Yes – it was manly.

As the two of you continued to fuck like you couldn’t get enough of one another, your sex started to get a little more clumsy and in great need of reaching your climaxes. Leon had now taken more control, sliding his hips down into a more relaxed position on the back seat of your car, pistoning up into you as he latched onto your waist with an almost animalistic yearning. You could see his body tense, his muscles bulging as he worked to please the two of you with his cock, and it was clear now that he was going to cum soon.

Grabbing the belt around his neck, you pulled his head close to yours, and listened to the groans full of pleasure that he let out. You started to get close now, too, from hearing every inhale, every exhale, and every throaty moan that escaped his lips. The sounds of his hips slapping up against yours didn’t go unnoticed, either – that brought you plenty closer as well.

Eventually, Leon couldn’t hold himself back anymore. “I’m gonna cum,” he whispered next to your ear in what sounded almost like a deep-whine, and that in itself was enough to push you to the edge as well, letting yourself go on him as he continued to shakily thrust his thick manhood up into your core.

Leon came as well, spurting his hot seed into you in small but plentiful bursts, and you could feel his entire body tighten up as he finished inside you. Since you had climaxed before him, you were a little more clear-minded as he came, and while watching his face, you noticed that he had scrunched it up a little – it was cute for a normally stoic man, you thought.

As the two of you were now finished, you slumped against him, laying your head on his still-clothed chest, your hair getting a little tangled into his neck-belt. Once you had caught your breath, you pulled back, and the makeshift collar tugged on your hair. You made a small yelp sound, and Leon quickly untangled it for you, before smiling up at you.

“That’s what you get for dragging me all over the place tonight,” he said jokingly.

You hiccuped in response, frowning at him. “Pssssh. Whatever – you liked it.” you said, a mischievous grin forming on your face after the words left your mouth. “After all, you did mention loving something about me earlier, right?”

While you expected him to become timid like he was earlier when you flirted with him, he didn’t. Instead, he replied with a cool tone and a determined stare:

“Yeah. I did. I love you.”

For the official and original Kinktober 23 prompts, check here. Credits to @kinktober2023 for the ideas!

[hotcat37]

ooh bojere fic recs please?

I'll try to recommend some fics (and by proxy authors) that i haven't seen in rec lists that much!! Know that there are many more I could recommend but I think these are good for now :3

by @feral4kaarijasquat !! It's very angsty at first because Jere ends up in the hospital after an accident but the unfortunate situation does bring Bojan and Jere closer together 👀 Second chapter includes smut ;)

by @jedibinx !! This is pure smut, Jere and Bojan get up to antics in the morning <3 It gives special attention to Jere's thighs and his Ariana Grande sweater paws :3

by @the-converse-high-top !! It is set in the deaf! Jere AU I made but in all honesty I don't think you need to have read my fic to understand this one :) It's a very sweet and heartwarming sickfic and the dialogue is so endearing!!

by dragon0blood!! It is an AU where Bojan is a landlord and Jere is his tenant who's behind on rent if you catch my drift 😏 The first 4 or so chapters are pure smut but it does get a lot cuter and more relationship focused in later chapters!

by @cinder-rose !! CW for consensual non consent but in the most unserious and cute way possible. Stuck in the wall porn trope but it's Bojere and genuinely kind of sweet in a way <3 (this is from their Kinktober series so deffo check out their other works, if this isn't for you I guarantee there's another fic for you in their catalog 👀)

by @chezgender !! Features possessive Bojan and a very devoted Jere getting it on before a gig ;) Super interesting religious imagery in this one as well

by @rosemindwrites!! Bojere smoke together while Bojan attempts to teach Jere some Slovenian <3 Fun dialogue and typical Bojere shenanigans

by anon!! Bojan finds out that Jere really enjoys being manhandled 😏 It's actually not that explicit despite the concept but the fic describes Jere and Bojan's sex life in such an interesting and unique way. The toy metaphors are also great storytelling :D

[heyclickadee]

Tech’s Alive, Part 7: Potential Visual Symbolism (cw warning for more discussions of character death)

Okay, so, several things before I start off. One, this isn’t really anything new. This is just about the blaster hole in the train car window and the “wings” that seem to appear in the clouds as Tech falls. Pretty much everyone’s pointed out the second of those things already (including me, in a post I wrote a couple of days after “Plan 99″ aired, when I really was still in denial and grasping at anything I could to prove to myself that Tech was alive), and I’m pretty sure I saw someone post about the first one, too, but I haven’t been able to find it. But these two things do a kind of neat thing if you take them together, so I figured I may as well write another one of these.

Second, I actually really want to write a post about foreshadowing and all the times Tech was connected to survival or got into a deadly situation and inexplicably got out of it alive this season, but I sort of want to do a full season two watch-through before writing it. Unfortunately, I’m kind of a filthy completionist and can’t just start with season two, and I just barely restarted season one, so it’s going to be a hot minute before I get to it.

And three, I guess--this is kind of me going back to standing in front of a conspiracy board and gesturing at it with a tin foil hat in hand. 

But! Anyway! 

In the moment where Tech falls, we get not one, but two little pieces of potential visual symbolism which may indicate Tech’s survival. The first of these is, of course, the part in the clouds on either side of Tech, which resembles nothing so much as a pair of black wings jutting out from his shoulders. 

Now, this is a visual motif connected to making life out of death, survival, and freedom that was introduced back in “The Outpost” with the ice vulture and Crosshair, but I’m not sure it doesn’t apply to Tech, too. Tech, like Crosshair, is repeatedly connected to the idea of survival over the course of the season. I’ve been mulling over a whole post about this, but this season sees the two of them undergo parallel (still ongoing) arcs in which they have to reevaluate their own self-image as soldiers, and both of them, in the moments they’re each linked to the ice vulture imagery, ends up making a definitive, sacrificial choice very likely to get them killed, for the sake of someone else. For Crosshair, that’s the choice to refuse to go along with the Empire and kill Nolan as vengeance for Mayday; for Tech, that’s shooting the connection on the rail car and allowing himself to fall so that the others could get away. Neither of them completely expects to walk away from those choices. The difference in the end result (so far) is that we’ve already seen that Crosshair survived, even if surviving is brutal at the moment. We’re sort of just waiting to see that with Tech. 

Furthermore, even though Crosshair is definitely THE ice vulture--I’m not going to argue that point--I’m going to come back to Mayday’s use of the plural when he talks about them: “Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em. They find a way to survive.”  

Mayday’s use of the plural here is actually kind of striking, because I think we only ever see one ice vulture over the course of that entire episode. It’s a large, solitary creature, covering a wide territory, and it could be the same one Mayday’s seen the entire time he was stationed at Barton-5. But the use of the plural (and the way that things work) means that there are others elsewhere, so that even though Crosshair is the character most clearly connected to them and especially to the one we actually see on screen, Tech could potentially be another one. 

Because here’s the other thing; Crosshair and Tech don’t just have parallel arcs. They’re actually a lot alike, in a lot of ways. They’re both brilliant, calculating, ruthless in the sense that they can both see the most direct way to get something done, whether it’s moral (usually Crosshair) or safe (usually Tech); they can both come across to people who don’t know them well as standoffish or even cold, but they both love very deeply and affectionately, in their own ways, and would give anything for the people they love, whatever the cost to themselves; they’re both incredibly sarcastic and refuse to sugarcoat things; and they both deal with everything very privately. They’re not exactly the same, of course. Tech is a chatterbox (a lot of the time) while Crosshair hardly ever speaks, and Crosshair spends every second on screen EMOTING EVERYWHERE ALL the TIME, while Tech’s facial expressions are much subtler. Everything Crosshair knows has made him cynical and bitter, while everything Tech knows has made him curious and kind. And, of course, Crosshair is incredibly pragmatic and usually not thinking about the morality of any given situation; Tech is pragmatic as well, but usually refuses to set morality aside. (And that’s all honestly way oversimplifying it BUT this is getting a little long.) But they are enough alike that I think the ice vulture connection can apply to Tech, too(1), and that the apparent visual connection in this moment in “Plan 99″ isn’t totally off base. Meaning that the, “They find a way to survive,” bit could and probably does apply to him(2). 

The second bit of visual symbolism in this scene is actually the blaster hole that Tech himself put through the window of the train car when he shot the connection hinge. If, say, the S&P department told the Bad Batch production team that they absolutely couldn’t show Tech’s body on screen or use any equivalents, like a crushed helmet or a body bag, or if the production team really did just want to use the goggles instead of anything more definitive, a really clean visual way they could have solidified Tech’s death would have been to have that blaster hole pass over Tech, either over his head or his chest, and then stay centered on him as he fell. It would be a sort of visual shorthand saying that Tech’s shot--the shot that cut the connection hinge--would also ultimately be the shot that killed him, or lead to his death at the very least. And we do actually see the blaster hole in the shot where Tech falls. It comes fairly close to him, but 

it just barely grazes his left hand. Not over his head, not centered over his chest as he’s falling, just momentarily passing the end of a limb(3).  (Aaaaaand the tin foil hat really starts to come out).

Now, not every single thing we see on screen is deliberate. Sometimes there are animation mistakes, and there are certainly concessions to budget. But the animation mistakes we tend to see are usually of a certain kind. Take, for example, Echo’s kama randomly appearing and disappearing from shot to shot in “Cornered,” or Hunter’s scarf doing the same during either “Pabu” or “Tipping Point.” Usually what’s happened there is either someone keying or turning the visibility of that piece of geometry off while they’re animating the character, and then forgetting to turn it back on again, and no one catching it until after the shot gets back from render. And there are rendering and compositing errors; I think there’s one shot from season one where you can actually see Tech’s goggles through his head, which was probably either a problem with render layers in maya or later on in compositing. And errors like that are usually not enough of a reason to re-render a scene. Rendering is expensive in terms of computer power and takes a good long while, especially if you’re rendering using arnold (which I think Lucasfilm Animation does--they don’t use redshift, as far as I know, but I could be totally wrong). 

Stuff like this, however--where Tech is in this shot in relation to everything else--is usually more about staging and layout, something that’s usually decided back in the storyboard phase and solidified during animatics. And given just how much happens in the background of this show, the staging on The Bad Batch is usually pretty deliberate. It doesn’t mean that the blaster hole missing Tech is 100% on purpose, but it does make it far more likely that it is. Same goes for the black wings in the clouds. 

Now, of course, even if the staging is deliberate, which I think it is, that doesn’t necessarily mean that either of these visual cues are meant to symbolize anything. I’m mostly just saying that they could and that that’s a possible way to read the scene. Taken together, these two visual cues could potentially be signaling that Tech will ultimately find a way to survive (like the ice vulture), so even though he might come very close to death, and may even brush it for a moment, it's going to pass him by (like the blaster hole).

1: Okay, you know what? It’s all of them. Crosshair’s THE ice vulture, but the “Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em,” is all of them. After seeing what they can do when they’re not holding back in “The Summit,” “vicious creatures” absolutely applies to all of them, as far as I’m concerned.  

2: Also, I’m sorry, but the silhouette of the ice vulture looks like the Marauder and when I think of the Marauder, I think of the whole batch, sure, but I especially think of Tech.  

3: More fodder for the “Tech comes back, but definitely not unscathed” theories? Maybe.