#but i've been wanting to write something where sex is sort of in the background while aftercare and the power dynamics are the focus

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv

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chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you.  pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why. 

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask. 

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives. 

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t. 

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone. 

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically. 

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?” 

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?” 

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused. 

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over.  “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you. 

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.” 

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.” 

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips. 

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.” 

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…” 

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that. 

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.” 

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his. 

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business. 

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?” 

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction. 

“Same here,” he manages. 

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise. 

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-” 

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him. 

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny. 

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.” 

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied. 

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.” 

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch. 

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down. 

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch. 

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.” 

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.” 

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again. 

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again. 

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly. 

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs. 

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.” 

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others. 

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod. 

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing. 

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks. 

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does. 

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following. 

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions. 

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements. 

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name. 

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. 

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes. 

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed. 

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others. 

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip. 

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks. 

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam. 

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.” 

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps. 

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.” 

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.” 

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. 

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages. 

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?” 

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.” 

“Next weekend?” 

“That long?” 

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement. 

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

part v

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Not a lot of variety in Hazbin Hotel

Another thing I dislike about Hazbin Hotel is the genuine lack of diversity.

With a setting like Hell you have the amazing opportunity to have characters from so many different time periods interact. With different fashion, different skills, different believes or upbringings it's incredibly easy to make characters that stand apart from eachother and create conflict (atleast it should be).

But with Vivzepops disinterest in making characters that even slightly stray away from the specific way she likes to write them, a lot of them end up blending together in how they act/look. Hazbin Hotel has this pretended diversity, where it seems like the cast should vary because on the surface they are very different, but in the show they blend together. This is because Vivzepop throws around different jobs, sexualities, nationalities, goals and inspirations for her characters, but never puts in the work to make them feel like it.

Sir Pentious, Alastor and Vox are all from different times, with different occupations. Sir Pentious was an inventor in the 1880s, Alastor was a radio host from the 1930s and Vox was a TV show host from 1950 (that's the era they died in). Yet they all wear very similar suits, just colour shifted. They all have shoulder pads, the same lapels, stripes and bowties. Alastor and Vox even wear the same pants and have the same shoes (atleast in shape).

Not to mention that in almost all of the designs there's that obnoxious red colour (especially with the red-black-white combination she just loves to put on her creations).

Even characters like Vox who seem like they have different colours (for him a mostly blue colour sceme) still have red accents and only very few characters are allowed designs without any red. Which is not that great since the background is also mostly red and it just hurts to look at sometimes.

Theres also all of the "typical" Vivzepop desing traits. Mostly sharp shapes and features, very slim bodies, sharp teeth, tophats, suits etc. A lot of her characters already blend together even though it doesnt make sense for them to. Would an inventor from the 1880s really dress the same as a TV show host from the 1950s?

Here I should mention that I don't mean blend together as in being completely indistinguishable from eachother but rather having too many similarities that it doesn't make sense for them to have.

As far as personality goes I do have to say that the characters are different enough in their basic chatacterizations. Vaggie especially was mostly refreshing because she acted as a voice of reason sort of and Charlie with her often naive (but very childish) attitude also stood out. But the devil is usually in the details.

I've heard people complain countless times about how pretty much the only continuous joke the show has is a character cursing, insulting others or making a sex joke. I get that cynical characters are sort of the appeal of HH but there's also just a lack of variety there for me. This is probably just a small nitpick here and something that is already done sometimes in the show, but there are different ways a person can be insulting and mean.

Like, for Husk it makes sense to be so up-front with being rude. He's a bartender and dealing with drunk people often requires being very clear and assertive.

But why does Angel never get to do anything else then directly talking about being sexy and making fun of others in such an obvious way. I think they wanted to give the appeal of him reading someone like a drag queen would but he just makes the same observations again and again and not in really clever ways (from what I remember!).

Alastor and Vox could've also been used better in the sense that atleast from what I know people in the entertainment industry (especially ones who do interviews or that stuff) won't directly tell someone that they don't like them. It's much more common for them to bring it up in small ways, like asking a question tied to an embarrassing topic to force the person into having to talk about that stuff.

Like I said this isn't really all too important though. What makes me more annoyed is the lack of diversity when it comes to the villains and how they're treated.

To me Viv has an issue with trying for every villain to play a more goofy role even though it doesn't always fit. Of course you can have "stupid" or silly and mostly funny villains but that shouldn't be every single one. When there are multiple villains in a show what makes them interesting is often how they differ from the others in their attitude and motivation and in HH we just don't really get that.

Sir pentious is never taken seriously as a threat and is mostly treated as incompetend, (I know he gets out of being the villain rather quick but even before that) Adam is just constantly portrayed as a dumb and irrational until we are supposed to take him seriously in the end. Vox doesn't do anything in the show apart from be kinda antagonistic towards Alastor and outside of that he is mainly also presented as being a fun villain rather than an intimidating one (very prominently in the song he has with Alastor where Alastor just completely bashes him at the end). Velvette also has nothing to do. Lucifer isn't treated as an antagonist (even though he should be in my opinion) and is shown to be just a "goofy and silly little guy" ig.

And apart from Valentino's genuinely terrifing scene he has with Angel Dust in episode four, he too is shown to be whiny, obnoxious and mostly dumb in his other scenes (this isn't helped by Viv pushing the idea that the Vee's are just like fun little saturday morning cartoon villains outside of the show). I guess Alastor is different in that regard kinda.

This plus the fact that outside of the characters who are obviously villains no one is allowed to be even slightly critical of Charlies idea without being presented as totally irrational, makes for no variety when it comes to the opposition in Hazbin Hotel. It's just kinda dissapointing to me that a show with this opportunity to create different characters gets stuck in the same conflicts and ideas over and over again.

[castlebyersafterdark]

i just rediscovered this gem of a post from years ago about lover's lake and byler... in light of recent discussions on here, you might be interested! its in screen shot form as it's been deleted by the original user. in two parts, long but you like long and this was one of the original lover's lake/byler sexuality posts back when we were all in the trenches! would love your thoughts!

part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/pinksmonkey/762360269808762880/the-truth-about-hosegate-and-lovers-lake?source=share

part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/pinksmonkey/762360644233232384/the-truth-about-hosegate-and-lovers-lake-part-2?source=share

PART ONE 🦞 PART TWO 🦞 PART THREE

Whewwww!! That was a long one. Very insightful deep dives back into the roots of Stranger Things theory. I've been so entrenched into celeb gossip and speculation and horny headcanons and fic writing that it's fun and useful to take a revisit to some show analysis. This was certainly a thorough venture.

Thoughts:

I don't know enough about It's Always Sunny for the references but if you do, enjoy!

It's always refreshing to see everything listed out - all the sexual references in the show. Sometimes I feel like, am I fixating too much on this subject? Is something wrong with me? But, no. It's a response to the lack of willingness to talk about this stuff in the greater fandom. It's just concentrated here as a reactionary decision. And it's interesting. This is only one aspect of the show - but it's important? As a part of life. And television. And the medium. Coming of age. 80s nostalgia. Supernatural mysteries, of which several are metaphors and allegories for growing up and identity and trauma and sexuality. Analytical discussion validates this.

A call back to the juxtaposed horror of Barb getting killed while Nancy loses her virginity would be a perfect full circle moment for Will and Mike having an intimate scene together. Their lovemaking or whatever the scene would entail would not be paired with something terrible, because we've reached a climatic point in the coming of age arc of the whole show. Nancy's was a loss of innocence, a step too quick perhaps into swiftly leaving childhood. Sleeping with Steve while her childhood best friend was dying. All the while, Will was in the Upside Down, thought to be dead, yet for a greater purpose, even younger than Nancy/Barb, and ultimately another representation of the loss of childhood. A lot of imagery with Will, too. Things forcibly taken. He and Mike - that's a choice. A positive. Down with love and culmination of breaking out of repression. Not having to leave childhood, but but forge forward on the natural progression because it's happening with your childhood best friend.

I'm not sure what would be going on simultaneously in the scene, but I like the acknowledgement of the cinematic inclusion of nature shots to represent intimacy and sex and orgasm, etc, when these elements aren't blatantly shown in some sort of sex scene. Could be onto something there. I've seen great theories and ideas involving Lover's Lake and gates and keys lately where this could play in (see Greenfiend's recent ideas! Shoutout!)

Liked the line in the first part "It's not possible to sexual something that's already sexual" which - absolutely. Agree or disagree, I personally agree. Like it or not - that's puberty.

I don't think I've ever addressed it, but I'm a big supporter of the one way sign theory. Some fans I think have grown weary of over-analysis and getting too caught up in the tiniest of mundane set details (every single instance of certain colors don't all hold meaning, counting ceiling tiles to prove time travel, the arbitrary and slightly slightly anachronistic inclusion of a very small background book or cassette a year too early, etc.) but the one way sign?? Hugely meaningful. Just wanted to acknowledge that.

"It is this tension between disgust and curiosity that allows shame to find its way into the coming of age of every human who has ever lived." 👏👏👏

I'm including this gift of a scene screenshot here because it's always worth looking at again. This sums it all up!! Come on!!

AND - I always forget this one. Hmmmm.

Love the symbolism mentioned I never fully correlated myself which is neat - the painting as a symbol of maturity as well. Color pencil drawings on notebook paper -> oil paintings on canvas. Their relationship as an evolution. "This fight felt more adult. Like one you can't come back from." Childhood, growing up. They can't really come back to the way things were post-painting gifting, van speech. Everything has changed about their dynamic now. "There is a huge sensuality in creating artwork for someone."

I feel like Mike taking the painting like that is the first step into the shifting of the tides. His hesitant acceptance of sexuality through symbolism. Coinciding with hosegate, of course.

Everything on this slide really. I never noticed the drill in the Jonathan / Argyle conversation. This show loves and adores a suggestive visual metaphor!!! So we can acknowledge all of those and not the hose? The HOSE is the most OBVIOUS one.

Actually, everything on this slide as well. Validates WHY someone who is also not a 15 year old finds this story so universally resonating. Cosigned.

"Lover's Lake exists in the show for a reason." - YES. I feel like Chekhov's scenic body of water has been underutilized. Sure, it was a gate in season 4, a hideout for Eddie, but otherwise has cropped up again and again. We've yet to utilize the Lover's namesake. I lean more towards Will and Mike having their consummate moment here more than anything else. Poignant. Thematic. Cinematic. All of the above. There's plenty of storyline opportunity for Will and Mike having to run, to hide, to seek refuge together somewhere. They're attached at the hip, they'll find and escape together somewhere. Cabin at Lover's Lake is where I'm placing my bets for any intimate scene together. "Moonlight on the water at the end of the world." Beautiful, truly.

Will and Mike have always been inevitable:

Closing thoughts and cosigned agreements that stand on their own:

❤️❤️❤️❤️

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia !! I just saw your retweet about letting authors know when you like their work, and I've been thinking about sending you an ask anyway so hereby I shall do both!!! First of all I want to tell you that I'm currently rereading Game Theory. A friend of mine told me about a fantasy world he created in his head and then let me rant to him about how much I love and adore Fae Tales, which then got me back into rereading it. While rereading, I got the notification that you're editing GT. That's so cool!!! My question for you, if you want to answer, is how does it feel to go back to GT after all this time? Besides the question I just wanted to let you know that I REALLY REALLY REALLY love GT and Fae Tales in general. Thank you so so so much for writing it. Its a huge comfort to me <3 I love you!!

is how does it feel to go back to GT after all this time?

Omg anon it's SO WEIRD

It's like getting into a time capsule.

So first up, I haven't reread Game Theory in its entirety for a few years because I find it kind of painful, a few things are out of character, and I know there's a lot of stuff to change to make it better suited as an original story and introduction to the world, and so when I start rereading it I see all the work I have to do and can't just immerse.

And that's been so annoying on a personal level, because I really believe in writing stuff you love - and for a long time I did!!

Going back to it I've found that:

Baby Pia didn't use the word 'cock' as often as I use it now. Which is kind of cute. I think I was still getting comfortable with writing explicit sex, or...something?

It's still better than I remember it. Like, as a follow on from SAL it's solid. I like the dialogue, and I like the 'feel.' I have no interest in changing that and in many ways I'm trying to remove as little as possible. I'm tightening prose/sentences, and being additive. I do know there's at least one scene I will have to remove (like Gwyn masturbating) because it's OOC and I will try and make that up to people somehow.

I really want more...background in the story. Not infodumps, but like...Gwyn actually fighting a fae driven mad because it was poisoned because of Augus' actions. Or Gwyn talking with his family. Gwyn talking to the trows!!! I'm so excited to add these sorts of scenes, things that are fleshed out and hinted at more in COFT and TIP, that I can make really robust now in GT as well. Things that I think will really strengthen the story, but also make it more captivating, and perhaps also make Gwyn more...understandable as a character. He's an extremely cold character to love if you haven't read SAL first.

I actually kind of get frustrated with how long the chapters are. I remember why I made them so long, and it was because I felt so terribly ashamed of how long the story was! So I 'hid' how long it was by condensing the number of chapters down and putting things that really deserved their own chapters into the same chapter and as a result, wrote shortcuts and really squished things that deserved more time and writing. I'm not angry at past me, I was genuinely frightened that people would hate the story if they saw a really big chapter count. And it's taken me a long time to let go of that. I know some people really like long chapters, and I think when it's appropriate it works so well, especially single sex scenes, but like...oof there are some chapters where it's like 'damn Pia you really were just trying to tell this in less than 45 chapters weren't you.'

While some folks say 'I can see how much you've grown as a writer' there's still some stuff I did better then than now. I think there's something to be said for having a long break there. Although I can also see some of my weaknesses a lot more clearly, because they're things I've like mended since then, or have been actively working on.

It's honestly been pretty fun. It's really important to me to preserve the integrity of the original story, because that's the story that got me here, and it reached people for a reason. Even if I'd write it differently now, I want to keep the basic essence of it the same. Ideally it just feels like reading 'Game Theory with some extra scenes' and all the other stuff blends into the background naturally, and doesn't feel jarring or strange.

It makes me so happy that you love Game Theory! Honestly it's folks like yourself letting me know things like this, and letting me know that you'd love to have it as a book one day, which has kept this as a dream in my head for a decade, and while I may be the world's slowest editor, the fact that this could actually come to fruition in 2024 is wild to me. Apparently it just takes me a really long time to commit to something lmao

[sublimecatgalaxy]

♥️ Steve Harrington Masterlist ♥️

This is a masterlist dedicated to things I've written about Steve Harrington.

Check out my Prompt List and my Character List in my Masterpost which is pinned for more info on who I write for and some inspiration for requests.

Lovebirds: 

Summary/Request: “Reader going after steve after he falls into the watergate and confessing their feelings for him after they find him :’)”

Cheer:

Summary/Request: “Could you do something with Steve harrington x cheerleader!reader we’re he comes to her game to watch her perform and it’s all cute and fluffy!!!”

Favorite Song: 

Summary/Request: “I was thinking like maybe the reader is adamant on stopping by her house so she can go through her cassette tapes and make sure she knows both his and her favorite song and he realizes why and he comforts her?!?!”

Middle Child: 

Summary/Request: “Can we get something longer about Steve Harrington x reader but the reader is the “middle child” in the Wheeler family. Like she’s a year younger or so than Steve and Nancy but older than mike.”

Take A Break:

Summary/Request: "steve eating reader out slowly and sensually goodbye I'm going feral"

Sick Joke:

Summary/Request: "reader finally gets the courage to ask steve out but the only time she can is at lunch in front of his popular friends and they make fun of her and steve says some nasty shit reader is heartbroken but steve actually wanted to say yes"

Unrequited:

Summary/Request: "Hi could you write Steve x Harrington x Fem reader where they’re best friends and she’s in love with him and she thinks it’s unrequited because she thinks he likes Robin instead and it’s a whole lot of miscommunication but it ends with a happy ending? :)"

Let Go:

Summary/Request: "Could you do the scene were Eddie is walking with Steve in the upside down and Eddie brings up how reader went in right after Steve got pulled just like the nancy scene and that’s when Steve realizes he’s inlove. If not totally fine, love your work !!"

I've Been Here:

Summary/Request: "Hi! Can I request a Steve Harrington x reader fic based on “The King” by Conan Gray?"

Fighting For Your Hand: Part 2

Summary/Request: "Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fighting for the readers attention and love, possibly with two different endings for each?"

Do What You Want To Me:

Summary/Request: "car sex with steve?"

Marked:

Summary/Request: "could you do steve harrington with a s/o that has a birthmark on their face? I have one on my right cheek and I was always insecure about it, i’ve grown to love it but sometimes you need that reassurance. So could you do one of him kinda comforting his s/o?"

Prepared:

Summary/Request: "okay i think we all agree that eddie cumming too fast is hot, but what abt steve cumming too fast??? mouth is salivating."

Picasso:

Summary/Request: "heyy omg🤭 could u do something abt steve leaving hickeys all over your chest n shit and the kids see them😭 i think they would be really funny abt it"

Cosmo:

Summary/Request: "The idea of Eddie or Steve laying in the readers lap while they hold a book in one hand, reading it, and the other hand is playing with their hair, with music blasting in the background, that's all I have to say"

Selfish Motives:

Summary/Request: "hi i was wondering if you could do something with steve harrington x gender neutral reader and sharing a bed for the first time? maybe the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope? either way, i’d just love to share a bed with him :) thank u!"

Scars:

Summary/Request: "Hi could you write a steve x fem reader where she has acne and scars and Steve is the best boyfriend ever by reassuring her how beautiful she is"

Often:

Summary/Request: "Okay but what if Steve and reader smoked and had rough sex while high🫠😶"

Barbie Doll:

Summary/Request: "Could i request sort of Steve x fem reader where reader is like Eddie and perhaps they’re good friends? Thank u ☺️"

Tipped:

Summary/Request: "Can I request a Steve harrington imagine, where him & reader (they are dating) they both work at scoops and some guy is flirting with reader is Steve gets really jealous and protective?"

Birthday:

Summary/Request: "Could I get either Billy Hargrove or Steve harrington imagine. Where it’s the readers birthday and the reader feels sad on her birthday and Billy or Steve throw a small party for them or something like that"

Can't Stand You:

Summary/Request: "Prompt: I've never wanted to fuck anyone this badly before."

Babygirl:

Summary/Request: "Calling Steve Harrington "babygirl" as a joke💕"

Hickey:

Summary/Request: "Steve Harrington giving you a hickey👀"

[veliara]

hihi! i'll ask a few <:

12. How much does your OC's background and origin affect their approach to relationships? Are there specific insecurities or preferences that lead on from their past?

29. What makes a scene or situation "romantic" in your opinion? Is this something you find easy to portray?

38. What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator?

Well, hi ^^) thanks for the ask! (I'm going to speak from Ciel's example, since she's my main original character) 12.How much does your OC's background and origin affect their approach to relationships? Are there specific insecurities or preferences that lead on from their past? Ciel's background, her family's influence had a lot of effect on her preferences. She is naive at times, a bit too trusting with those who have treated her with kindness. Growing up in a loving and affectionate family, she misses the feeling of serenity she had at home. Until one day she discovers that same serenity in the oddest company in whole Ishgard. She didn't plan on seeking a relationship at the beginning of her adventures, let's just say they sort of fell on her. She wanted to see the world, to taste freedom. The result of her upbringing has caused her to have a strange flaw. She doesn't know how to live for herself. She doesn't want anything for herself. That's the way she was raised. To live for others. Only to give. It's normal for her. So finding herself in Ishgard, in a world where she, “half-breed boy” is despised at best, in a company that almost the entire city tries to stay away from, she learns to live for herself, to want something/someone and learns to protect it. (Even if that “someone” is a 7ft tall guy in plate armor who clearly doesn't need this protection.)

29.What makes a scene or situation "romantic" in your opinion? Is this something you find easy to portray? For me, it's the details that make a scene romantic: the glances, the soft and gentle touches. Silence or quiet, relaxed conversations, when my characters are at ease, “without the armor and masks” they wear in front of outsiders. The intertwining of fingers. A kiss on the temple, when lips linger a little longer than necessary. Intimacy of being themself in the company of their partner. Allowing themself to be vulnerable and knowing they won't be harmed (in any sense of the word). That's what romance to me in a scene. I'm completely incapable of writing spicy scenes, too afraid to vulgarize the precious things I've been trying to create for so long. But I absolutely love writing soft romance.

38.What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator? There are a few scenes, in part 2 that make me smile stupidly. My favorite is when Ciel, at Paul's request( Oh, you one-eyed devil!! >.<), comes to keep an eye on Grinnaux, who is asleep after being wounded by a poisoned blade. He missed the blow because of her, so she blamed herself. In the end, the stroking of his hair, which to her surprise he loves, turned into a gentle cuddling. She doesn't understand what's going on, he's not really conscious and acting on some inner instinct. And then he wakes up… I'm not gonna write this scene here. Maybe one day I'll translate it and make some screens if I feel like it. Who knows?

P.S. I apologize for the long answer. I would like to say a lot more things, but I`ll keep myself in bay. I'm the kind of person who can talk for hours about my character and her adventures.

[yeyinde]

I want you to know how absolutely IN LOVE I am with Lavender Skies

The whole time I was reading it I was genuinely in awe.

I’m so bad with words and explaining but it’s genuinely written so beautifully.

The way you give such life to it is astounding.

It’s so easy to see yourself in it but also so easy to see it as almost an oc? Not in the way where it feels alienating but in the way that there so much personality and love between them that it makes it seem so full of life it that makes any sense?

And the

“That you live, instead, somewhere in the parentheses of both.”

And

“You fit against him, tucked safe between the parentheses of his arms.”

K i l l e d m e

It’s one of my favorite aspects of it it’s so beautiful

I really love also how there no smut lmao

I love that it’s just romantic and comforting and full of love and affection.

Fanfiction is such a powerful medium and of course people can write what they want but it does get a little repetitive to see nothing but sexual content in my opinion. (No shade of course that’s all lovely too and can be very well written) but it’s so refreshing to see something so beautiful and full of love without sex being the main ‘theme’ ig?

Especially for how under-written Gaz it makes me appreciate this so much more.

I really hope that you’re as proud of this as I am cause it’s genuine a work of art.

My new favorite fic out of literally any I’ve read.

Thank you so much!

💚

Ahhh, thank you!!! I'm really glad you liked it 🖤

I've written tonnes of smut - a lot of it is incredibly gratuitous and just there for the sake of being there, but I also think physical intimacy can be a great way to explore deeper, more complex emotions like vulnerability, too. It can definitely be deeper than just instant gratification, but it just wasn't as important as the feelings already festering between them, if that makes sense. Plus, I think first time smut between these two would be pretty heavy on the emotional side since these two have been pining for a decade (and it would be a side of each other not yet explored which has it's own caveat, me thinks), but this was already chocked full of emotion and adding anything else felt a bit overwhelming.

I also had this whole background planned out for them (from college to now) to give more insight into their relationship but I cut it out to focus on them, in the present, instead. I was hoping the ambiguity would let people dream up their own scenarios about what happened, charting this relationship from start to finish with their own personal experiences and desires, but it snuck in, anyway 😅 I like blank slate characters but sometimes you need to give them a little bit of life to get the plot moving lmao

Ahhh, this comment really made my day!! I was pretty worried about this since most of what I write is a lot like an essay where I feel the need to constantly prove my thesis (they're in love and here is the proof in example a, b, and c), so this was a bit new to me and almost completely void of flashbacks (almostttttt), but this sort of quelled a lot of my fears. Thank you so much!!! 🖤

[mild-lunacy]

I think I view romance as a sort of crutch, perhaps, in terms of things I'd like to read. I really like the *idea* of friendship-based stories rather than romantic narratives, and yet I have some weird PTSD-like avoidance of them. This probably is a product of my over-familiarity with fandom and particularly the frustration of the source material. I'm afraid that somehow friendship wouldn't be enough, even though this is unlikely for me. Half the time I actually find the stupider/more immature parts of romance (jealousy, misunderstandings, love triangles, imbalance with the physical attraction, etc) more frustrating than friendship by far. I mean, one main reason I stick to genre romance is that there's little time to spend on those plot lines. I actually prefer extraneous sex scenes to extra scenes about romantic anxiety and misunderstandings. Not to say I don't like well done romantic tension, 'cause I do.

Mostly thinking of this as I found a new sci fi/fantasy author, Rachel Neumeier, and I'm thinking about reading the series starting with Tuyo. It's one of those super-close male friendship fantasy epics that I both adore and avoid like it's kryptonite. It also gets old *always* seeing men and women interact romantically. I actually try to avoid this even in romances-- I like where the female main character is only secondarily 'a woman', as opposed to whatever else she does or wants to do.

I have a lot of the personality preferences of the readers who *never* read romance, except that I constantly do. One of the things I look for that resolves this sort of dynamic is that in a genre/romance *series*, by book 2-3, the couple is usually already together and the focus is on their partnership and meeting new obstacles and their friends and family. Ilona Andrews, Patricia Briggs-- urban fantasy books in general-- are well established in doing this.

So I've read pure urban fantasy as well as genre romance-adventures but I've been avoiding pure science fiction. In part because it's more often written by male writers who focus on plot to the exclusion of characterization. On top of that, I like a certain kind of character/culture centric story, even if it's focused primarily on plot. Women tend to write that kind of story even with science fiction (eg, some old Ursula K LeGuin or Lois Bujold and Sharon Lee/Miller or Catherine Asaro, and recently I've found Rachel Neumeier and Dorothy Grant).

Anyway, so while I dip my toe periodically in non-romantic fantasy and particularly sci fi by women, I've still been avoiding genre stories (by women) that are about male friendship. There's no good reason for this, rationally, particularly when I only like family stories when they're in the background of an individual's life (though I love that background, and I love Ilona Andrews, Seanan McGuire and Nalini Singh partly for that reason). Without a focus on primarily family dynamics, without friendship what else is there? And this is how I get to settling on romance. I just like books about 1-2 people *primarily*. Even 3 protagonists is really pushing it if they're dominant.

So I'm wondering if I did read Tuyo, would it be a beginning of something? Or would I never get over my fandom trauma. That would be sad.

[brattyprettysub2]

Something I really appreciate about your writing is that you do age play stories that includes mmf stuff with the guys being bi, both where they are both doms or where one is dominant and the other is the little. It seems to be really uncommon compared to bi girl stuff, so it's been nice to see! Do you know of anyone else who does that?

What a lovely message! Thank you!

I don't honestly have much time for the mfm kinds of threesomes where the Dicks Can Never Touch. Everyone has their own taste, their own kinks, their own sexualities and ways of engaging with it, but that is just not for me. If I'm having sex with two boys, I want to see them make out, damn it. And that carries over into my writing.

I mean, honestly, all of my characters are some flavour of queer. I'm a slutty little bisexual who's attracted to so many people across genders, and I like incorporating that into my writing. And that comes out in the fact that yes, some men are tops, some are bottoms! Some are switches! Some people aren't men or women! Some people move between genders on a daily basis! I haven't played with gender fuckery as much as I'd like to, and I haven't written as many non-binary or trans characters as I'd have liked to, but all those different ways of engaging with gender and sex and kink and power are all swimming around in my brain.

(I'm currently plotting a book that feels like it will be M/m and part of me is nervous because I don't know if it will sell as well as my M/f stuff, but it feels like the story I want to write, and this ask gave me some courage to go with it, so thank you so much for that)

I can't think of any authors off the top of my head who do the same thing. My background in smut writing is from fanfiction. That's where I first started reading smut, it's where I first started writing smut, and it's such a queer space. I use Archive Of Our Own for a lot of my smutty needs, so that's my first suggestion for spaces to look! It also has the best tagging/sorting system I've ever seen on an internet archive.

Thank you so much for the lovely message <3

[shivunin]

15 for the get to know your fic writer ask game please?

Ooooh great choice! I have a lot of thoughts about this. Thanks, Anon c:

Obviously, I'm going to be talking about sex here, so if that in any way makes you uncomfortable I recommend giving this one a pass.

(Fic writer questions)

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

Okay, so! Background information in order for me to answer the actual questions coherently:

I think the first thing is deciding the point of the smut scene I'm working on. I notoriously struggle with just writing straight-up PWP, but usually the idea has to do with the positioning of the characters and their relationship with sex/intimacy.

Some of that (often a large part) has to do with each character's relationship with their body, or in other words how much they "live" in their body versus how much they "live" in their head. A character who's distant from their body will have a totally different perspective of sex and touching than someone who doesn't think very hard about that relationship and so on

Secondary to this is the character's relationship with sex. Are they inexperienced but curious? Experienced and uncomfortable? Untrusting, but willing to be vulnerable with their partner/s? Are they coming into this scene with any expectations of the experience or their partner/s? Have the character/s in question been intimate in this way before, and if so how do they expect this round to go?

<- all of that is something I would have in mind before I even begin to start plotting something out. It's not necessarily something I'd write down, but if you have a good feel for the character these are things you'd probably be considering about them...If that makes sense.

Now for the actual questions!

Often, the precipitating "seed" for smut winds up being something like "how might Fenris's alienation from intimacy/physical touch be expressed in a moment centered around intimacy and physical touch?" or like, "how does Cullen express complex feelings about jealousy and loss when he really doesn't have the experience/language to do that?" They usually wind up being questions about how a character relates to someone close to them and the expression of those questions takes the form of exploring sex/intimacy.

And yes, sometimes it's just "someone needs to peg that man and by golly I may well have to write it myself," which is also perfectly valid

I've read a lot of sex/smut/erotica/romance novels etc. so I have very strong opinions about what I enjoy/don't enjoy in this sort of prose. I think the most important thing, for me, is finding a balance between concrete and abstract. "Purple prose" is just not my thing, so overuse of metaphors or very mixed metaphors are something I try to avoid at all cost. I love poetry, but sometimes it just drags me out of the moment.

If my reader doesn't know where their legs and arms are, it's going to pull them out of the emotional heart of the moment (whatever it is).

If my reader only gets, you know, body parts and flesh and fucking, that's all well and good but there's already porn out there for that. Which I have no specific objection to, but like---the point of fic is that it's a representation of particular characters. I want all of my fic to feel like a true representation as much as possible, smut or no smut. I don't think I can do that without some reference to their personality traits/emotional characteristics/etc.

So, again, it's a balance for me. I want it to be easy to visualize what they're actually doing while still holding onto the thread of the emotional/plot part of the scene. For some characters, touch is an easier and clearer way to communicate than words. How are they showing that? If touch is hard, how are they showing that? And so on.

Is it important to be realistic? For me, yes. God. There is so much awful smut out there (I read a list of lube stand-ins a while back and like....please, please, if you ever think of using motor oil or peanut butter for lube, please just stop and go to a sex shop instead) and inaccuracies like that, again, pull me right out of the moment. If I want to feel totally drawn in by the scene and the characters couldn't physically be in the position they're in, I am going to be so focused on trying to figure out how they're doing it that I've already stopped caring about what they're doing.

Idk I just really enjoy writing smut. I feel like it can be such a fun microcosm of a character's personality and beliefs and it's just!!! so fun to delve into. I have a whole bunch of wips that I may never post about it, because I find some questions so compelling but don't necessarily want to get into figuring out if it's a misrepresentation to say that, for example, Fenris is into consensual voyeurism or w/e.

I think the TL;DR here is that with smut, I like everything in moderation: clear physical details balanced with emotional motivations, powerful visuals intermixed with internal considerations, and, of course, I have to be having fun doing it or there's really no point in writing smut at all!

[cbk1000]

❤️|👓

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic? I've written a lot of lines and can't say that I have a favourite that really stands out to me, but I do think this one is notable: 'An erect penis has something of a fine ear for comedy (so to speak); it is not that sad sea vegetable of which the flaccid penis is close kin, but a sort of merry absurdity which has been put on in afterthought and might as well do as it pleases.'

👓 What helps you focus when you write? I actually am not a very focused writer. lol For as many words as I put out, you'd think that means I'm devotedly hunched over my keyboard banging out (cymbal clash) sex scenes, but you can find me doing the following things while writing: checking my email; checking my tumblr; playing with my hair while staring off into space; walking around the room; checking my email again. (To be fair, this is not me just pissing about and avoiding writing, my brain is actually working in the background while doing things that don't require a lot of concentration. So I'll go back and forth between writing and stuff that doesn't require a lot of my brain cells to kind of let my brain work out exactly what I want to say/where I'm going in a scene.) I do often listen to music, and that does help me to kind of shut out the world, but if I can't find a song that helps to set the specific mood I'm going for, sometimes the music itself can be distracting, so in that case a lot of times I'll just sit with my noise cancelling earbuds in but not actually play anything through them. That way the noise cancelling is blocking out the sound of Mr. Jenn moving around or watching the TV, which is on the other side of our bedroom wall, and I'm cocooned in a nice little nothing with just my thoughts.

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

📓

There are a few different ideas I've been noodling with, but there's a few I wanna keep under wraps for now, cause I'm terrible at announcing detailed plots and then never writing them (😬) Here's one I'm happy to share, though it's a gen fic that would eventually feature background Hellcheer:

The Cunninghams and the Binghams always spent their summers at the same lakeside resort. Maybe somewhere in the Adirondacks, not sure on that yet, just that it's somewhere in the general Northwest region of the States. Chrissy and Eden met and became friends as kids, but it's not until the summer they meet Kali that they all make a promise to stay in touch and become pen pals.

I was thinking they girls would all be around 13 or so. Maybe Eden and Chrissy would be 12, and Kali 13, as I think she's probably a bit older. It would be within the months after Kali escaped the lab on her own, and she's homeless and on the run. Chrissy and Eden find her stealing food from the kitchen one night and make it their mission to take care of her while they can - sneaking meals, bringing her blankets and clean clothes. After some thorough sneaking, they find an abandoned shed on the outskirts of the resort and the 3 of them work together to make it livable for Kali - kind of like her very own Castle Byers.

Over the years, Kali moves around a bit but maintains a PO box where she can receive mail from Eden and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eden's love and friendship helps Kali be a little more trusting, and to let go of some of the anger and self-destructive lessons she learned from Brenner and Henry. When El finds her in '84, she's a different person. She's not hunting lab employees, though she has located a few of them and spent more than one night calling Eden and Chrissy with *69 to cry and beg them to stop her from doing something dangerous with the information.

I think Eden and Chrissy as they move into their teens would talk more about religion and what it means to them. Eden would rebel first, being dismissive and angry about how restrictive her parents are and her awakening pushes Chrissy to start questioning things too. Having two sounding boards completely removed from her daily life is vital in keeping Chrissy from fully succumbing to her mother's control.

The summer vacation when Chrissy and Eden are 16 is when Eden confesses to them she thinks she likes girls and boys, Kali confesses she's not sure she's interested in sex at all (I headcanon her as demisexual and hasn't met anyone who awakened that part of her yet), and Chrissy just wants to dreamily recount the story of the Boy with the Guitar from the middle school talent show. Again. (They've heard the story MANY times).

Basically it's a coming of age story of female friendship where everyone is a little less traumatized than in canon cause I'm giving them love and support they didn't have before. It feels like the sort of universe that could be the setting for a lot of different types of stories.

I think Eden was definitely Chrissy's first kiss at least, and Kali probably experimented with both of them when she was trying to figure out what she liked because they were the only truly safe people in her life until she reconnected with El. There is definitely a lifelong physical intimacy between the 3 of them that goes beyond friendship at different points in their lives, but never becomes something overtly romantic. I think there's room for an interesting exploration of a poly dynamic with Stali, Rockie and Eden (maybe Argyle too, though I'm not married to that ship) once they reach their 20s and realize that's a possibility. Hellcheer would be monogamous and codependent as hell, but super open and supportive of their friends exploring the boundaries of what their relationships can look like.

I don't know if I'll ever even start writing this, but I'm very attached to the Chrissy, Kali & Eden best friendship that exists in my head.

[sirsparklepants]

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Answered here!

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Uhhh, depends on what you mean by "nurturing", honestly. Things I think will actually develop into stories: like, one other than my current wips, but that one is really dead dove so I won't detail it here. There's like seven of those bits that I mentioned that are there just for fun and probably never going anywhere, and once in a great while I'll leisurely poke at them. One of the most fun ones is a Mass Effect Wrex/Garrus one sort of inspired by the way that turian society is highly hierarchical and military based, and since Garrus is expected to get along with Wrex (and does because of that mindset), he has to confront the fact that they do have a lot in common and Wred would probably be very respected if he was a turian. The actual fic is like. Drunk frenemies sex. But that's the background driving it.

Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was pitch dark as they climbed a nearly invisible path circling the town, cut through the purplish-red rock. Their flashlight beams seemed dim, not up to the task of lighting up the path, the light shying away from the darkness that clung to Ben. The crunch of their shoes over the rocky dirt was oddly soft, the sound falling flat and failing to carry the way it should have against the rock. No other sounds broke the heavy pressure around them. There was just the too-quiet sound of their steps and the too-loud sound of their breath. It made it even more obvious that Ben was breathing shallow and slow and off rhythm, like whatever was piloting him wasn't used to having to breathe. It was hard not to feel really alone, in the dark and cold and unsettling quiet around them. Steve could hear Billy, his breathing a little heavier than usual as he grunted occasionally, but his outline behind the wavering light in his hand was unclear and unfamiliar, like he could have been one of the shadow creatures they'd been chasing. Like he could have been replaced without Steve noticing. Steve wanted to fall back, to look - to touch him, maybe, to make sure. His hand drifted over the place where his gun was holstered under his suit jacket, and then to the place on his hip where his hunting knife was kept. Both of them felt too far away under the layers he was wearing. His hands tightened.

That's from Call Up The Devil, my Stranger Things horror fic (as well as tribute to the X Files and early Supernatural, although that I saw like. Three episodes of tbh.) I'm proud of it because it's very atmospheric and I really think I conveyed something unsettling well. There's also some more formal writing devices in there I don't often purposefully play so much with in fic, but it was really fun to do here and I think it adds a lot.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across? What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

The worst writing advice I've ever had is that it's bad to repeat the same words too many times. You can do a lot with repeating words! You can create patterns and rhythms. I also think this advice is responsible for a lot of unclear actions in sentences or over use of non-name identifiers in writing. Repeat their names! Please! Even in the same sentence if it's necessary to keep from pronoun confusion!

I think the best advice I've ever received is to push it a little farther. Write that more ridiculous dialog. Take your self indulgent premise and run with it. Use more detail. Involve more senses. Try for an idea you're not sure you can execute. You can always take it out!

Second best however goes to the person who was like "yeah if you can't think of exactly the word or phrasing you want put something in brackets and move on, and if you're stuck on anything else, do that until you're not stuck." Actually implementing that drives me crazy. I'm obsessive about the way I write and it HAS to fit together in the correct way. But it does make things go so much better when I suck it up and do that.

Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I usually write in order, because even for short stuff I usually have have a relatively detailed outline, but sometimes (the baby fic is doing this to me right now) I don't know what order the scenes should go in, or I get stuck on one and have to skip ahead. I admit it irritates the fuck out of me when this happens, because I am very rigid about my writing process and I don't like deviating from the plan or not doing things exactly as I have them laid out.

Jesus christ sorry for the novel. I love talking about myself and I have a lot of thoughts about writing as a process!

Fic writer asks

[not-poignant]

Re: your - totally valid! - feelings on writing more Augus & Gwyn as MCs. Do you find still writing the Nascent Diplomat emotionally taxing bc of that? Like, I adore that story and would love to read more ofc, but if it doesn't bring you any joy that would dampen my own enjoyment too. Personally, I'd much rather you put TND on pause and maybe pick it up again in a few years, but just write the stories you are excited about for now! Idk, just, pls write what makes you happy, Pia💗

Hi anon!

Let's talk about this in more detail and hopefully you'll understand better at the end of it. :)

I can still write The Nascent Diplomat partly because it's not a conventional romance story (Gwyn is developing relationships not just with Augus, but also with Kimerrin and Temsen), partly because I started it before I burnt out on Gwyn/Augus as a couple, and partly because the feel of the story is so different to general stories where Gwyn and Augus are present.

Augus' sadism has been muzzled by Gwyn's traumatic past, and putting Gwyn with the vench means he can't use his stoicism and his stubbornness in the same way anymore without literally disabling himself and suffering, so they've both had to become as much different people as they could possibly be within the scope of who they are.

I've found a lot of the time, the things most folks want from Augus and Gwyn is - understandably - when they are most 'themselves' in new stories. So Augus as a sadist, potentially taking Gwyn (or another character) down or taming him or being an incredible dominant. Or Gwyn being stoic and repressed and having a traumatic family background and needing to be hurt until he has no choice but to accept comfort and being a submissive in denial that he's a submissive. And I've now written versions of that narrative about 6 or 7 times. Gwyn being with Temsen would be a similar enough dynamic to classic Augus/Gwyn, that while it's fun to think about, I just can't write that same journey again with either of those characters any time soon?

And The Nascent Diplomat isn't that journey either, it's one of the reasons I do enjoy writing it still (though I don't think I could write more than one chapter a month, which is why I...only release one chapter a month, so I stay fresh with it and can stay present with the characters).

And one of the comments tND gets most as an AU, is that it's incredible how different this version of Augus and Gwyn are, compared to all the other versions, because of circumstance/s.

But any time a new AU idea or something similar comes up, what folks want most - say even with Gwyn/Temsen - is very classic Augus/Gwyn dynamics, and I'm just... not writing those with Augus/Gwyn because I've done it 6~ times now across over a million words, and I no longer feel fresh with it, with those characters specifically, as a concept. And I feel like if I kept forcing myself to write the dynamic people ask for the most from them, or expect from them, that's when I would really truly burn out. And tbh anon, I did just...stop writing them in that dynamic actually years ago. Even the epilogue that Augus/Gwyn are in, within Fae Tales, is very different from COFT and GT content. I had 'Gwyn is too traumatised for sex' to fall back on, but I deliberately could not write something similar to what they used to be. In some ways that was a win (we got to see a different kind of love between them, and a different way of coming together for them), but... *thinks* it's been years since I've written 'classic' Gwyn and Augus and my burnout hasn't gotten any better. To me, The Nascent Diplomat isn't very classic Gwyn and Augus at all. And it makes me happy to know that Augus will likely never be able to be truly sadistic to that version of Gwyn, because it means I can't be sort of...driven back into that version of that story for those two.

So while I appreciate your concern, anon, I wouldn't write a story I didn't want to write or didn't know how to write. I'm not that sacrificial and I care about my mental health too much to do it, which is why I constantly say I won't be (or will not likely to be) doing it anymore in new stories, lmao. Even if that risks the displeasure or dislike of other people.

The Nascent Diplomat gets to sit in its own window. It helps a lot that it only demands 12 chapters a year from me, so it never really trips off that burnout in the same way. I'm sure if I had to write more of it more often, I may have put it on hiatus, but I don't need to because I found the sweet spot for it.

[guiltypleasurefandomface]

I understand if you disagree but one of the best moments of television for me during my teenage years was when Joey/Rachel didn't work out.

And, I know the background reasons are to make way for Ross/Rachel and more of that romanticised toxic crap. But the in show, character reason is that it doesn't feel right because they're too good friends. And it might have been something just to say to make each other feel better but as someone who believes friendship is just as valid as romantic relationships to fulfil your life, I really resonated with that even before I figured out I was asexual.

And a few times I've gone to write fics where the will they/won't they has ended up "won't" because they're friendship is too good. Not "to risk it". Just "too good already that nothing else is needed". It didn't feel natural, it wasn't whst they really wanted, and their friendship is not ruined by it at all.

But I know that would go down like a lead balloon in some fandoms. I also know some people would take it like a statement against a pairing in some other fandoms so I've never gone on to write it.

But, yeah, as an asexual, two friends who really mean a lot to each other coming to a mutual agreement that it won't work with added romance and sex and following the expected adult romantic relationship life path, so they should remain firmly in the friends category, it really meant a lot to me.

And if I ever do write a fic based on that concept, please think of this post and not that I'm shitting on the pairing to make some sort of point.

[roseategales]

VORACITY — ONE-SHOT.

fic rating: explicit. | categories: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut. | pairing: solavellan. | content warnings: biting and scratching as kinks, discussions of dubious consent. | word count: 2.3K. | alternate link: ao3.

author’s note: the smut in this fic mostly functions in the background and in dialogue, but, although it’s described in detail, is not the focal point. the fic was written to focus mainly on the discussion of motivation, consent, aftercare, and the dynamic between solas and my lavellan, who are in an established and loving relationship by the point that this fic happens in. thank you to @thebookworm0001 and @jarakrisafis for beta’ing. <3

_____________________________

“I can heal these.”

Cooled with a spell at the ready, Solas’ fingertips hover over her hip, where an imprint of his earlier grip on her is darkening to bruises. It’s not the only wine-red patch. There’s a counterpart on her other side; and an irregular trail of marks in the shape of his mouth, starting from her throat, wandering down to her breasts, and ending below her ribs. In the morning, their contrast on her skin will be deeper, and will appear harsher than they are in daylight’s emphasis. She’ll have to be grateful Josephine ordered so many high-collared tunics for her in spite of her protests. Secretly. Or her Chief Ambassador may fuss even more. But Eludysia doesn’t think those things warrant her worries. Nor should they warrant Solas’. Easily concealed displays of a night enjoyed with her dearly missed lover? Hardly worth the trouble, when their lives are full of worries as things are.

“So can I,” she reminds him. She curls closer to his side. “Leave it. I don’t mind them,” she says. If anything, they serve as a reminder that there are some things of Eludysia she can keep guarded. For her love. For herself. Apart from Herald and Inquisitor.

Solas hesitates for a moment, the line of his mouth severe, eyes searching hers in the shadows cast by the dim firelight. “Ma nuvenin,” he says eventually, when she voices nothing more. The spell is returned to the streams of the Fade, and he arranges the quilt to cover her body and his.

She should know him better by now, however. The way she’s learning to know the lean grace of his form, the sharp angles of his features, the specific timbre of his voice. His acquiescence to her is conflict with himself. She has her dismaying confirmation as he lays back down to face her and brush her hair behind her ear, without a kiss to her forehead or her lips. Without holding her. He tries a smile, but it’s as withdrawn as he is. Like he doesn’t dare to allow himself her closeness, his mind lost to rumination.

There’s something behind his offers to clean her up and heal her love bites.

“You’re upset,” she says, as both a statement and a question.

“Do I appear to be?” Solas asks. It’s tempting to interpret his lilt and raised brow as amused surprise, and not concern. A simple yes or no would’ve made it easier to pursue the subject. She wouldn’t feel like she’s walking on a thin line, caught between potentially overstepping his boundaries again or never knowing the reason for his reservation with her.

Her desire to know wins.

“You do appear to be,” she tells him. “You’re distancing yourself and dodging my question.”

“I do not wish to concern you, vhenan. Moreover, you must be tired after your journey from Ferelden, and I have stolen enough of your time and energy. You should sleep.” He winds his arm around her, palm flat on her spine. His thumb strokes her skin. If the gesture is meant to soothe her, it has the opposite effect.

“I’ll toss and turn the whole night if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Eludysia is aware of the manipulative undertone to her words. Though she is being truthful and her intentions are genuine, she could have let this go. Didn’t he say he would work on trusting her? She could have admitted that she is tired, and asked if he would discuss things with her in the morning. She could have asked if he’d help her sleep with a spell. Left him to mull things over on his own in the Fade. Perhaps he’d feel better if she did. But then, she doesn’t feel it’s a good idea to leave the conversation here. It is just as likely that he’d continue to avoid the subject and she would be no closer to the explanation for his mood’s sudden shift. She was so happy to be able to see him and be held by him again. She counted down the days, ached to have him all over her at night. Her hand and mere recollections of him between her legs brought poor relief. She thought he ached similarly and was equally thrilled for her return. Now...

Solas removes his arm from her. He rubs his face, as though he was the one who’d spent a week in talks with the Ferelden crown and nobility on a mutual effort to expunge the Venatori. For a moment, she braces herself for him to evade her or leave again. She wouldn’t blame him. But he doesn’t. When he drops his hand, his expression is as composed as a still pool.

“All right,” he says quietly. “I fear I should not have taken you in the manner I did. I was reckless. Unthinking. I could’ve caused you worse harm.” He places two fingers under the mark at her throat, examining her. As if he waits for her to flinch away from him. She remains at his side, her breathing steady. “My actions were regrettable. I apologise.”

“You apologise,” she repeats, incredulous. Reckless. Unthinking. Harm. She turns each word, each meaning over. Tries to frame tonight’s sex in the light of them. She can see how reckless could be applicable. But unthinking? Harm? And if his actions were regrettable, what would he call hers? Who initiated what past the first kiss is a bit difficult to distinguish. Neither of them could get their clothes off quick enough, neither seemed like they could bear another second without the other’s touch. But this much is clear: She was exhilarated by the voracity of Solas’ desire. She encouraged every move he made. Fenhedhis, his back must’ve stung from her nails sinking into his flesh. He had murmured, “abelas,” when she gasped at how hard he bit her throat, and she bid him to do it harder.

He’d paused, looked up at her. His pupils were dilated, eyes dark as the Void. Did they dance in the firelight or did she imagine it? “Are you certain?” He asked.

She couldn’t help but arch into him. “Yes! Please!”

Eludysia’s worry heightens into alarm.

“Solas…” She says slowly, fearing where she next treads. “Was the sex tonight pleasurable for you?”

His brows crease. “That is besides the point.”

“No, it isn’t.” She winces. Her pitch is higher, shakier than she intended it to be.

He falls silent. A shadow passes over his face. “It… was. Yes.”

She has little cause to assume he’s lying. In all the time she has known him, Solas has proven to highly value truth and deplore falsehoods. He has and will avoid and obfuscate if he sees fit. Mostly out of caution. But he would never lie. Still, she wants to be certain. “Every second of it?”

“I would not have gone as far as I did if it were otherwise,” he says.

“Then why are you apologising? If it was pleasurable for both of us, I don’t see a problem.”

“What is pleasurable and what is beneficial is not mutually exclusive, vhenan.” Though he is gentle as he explains, he points the differentiation out as if it’s obvious. “We have not been apart for quite some time, and your trip to Ferelden was the first since we started having sex. It was like starving in the winter after eating of a summer harvest. We were driven by need and desire. That combination can be overpowering for anyone, making them desperate to be satisfied. I wanted nothing more than to have you, to make you cry out and come apart trembling in my hands as I slaked my lust.” He cards his fingers through her hair. Somehow, his touch underlines his description of what transpired, intimate yet distant. She’d wonder at how paradoxical he can be if she wasn’t familiar with his idiosyncrasies.

He continues, “I knew I had you riled. I asked for your consent not purely for your sake, but to permit myself indulgence. Even if you were not hurt or did not feel mistreated in the moment… I would never want a chance of that happening.” His eyes flit past her, like he sees something she can’t. A scene where she’s pushing him away, covered in bruises, feeling used, her trust broken? It vanishes as soon as it appears, and his gaze settles back onto her face. “Certainly not in bed.”

She considers what he has said. Her cheeks burn and her eyes sting. She catches his hand mid-stroke in her hair, and brings it to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles. Then she props up her pillow and sits, arranging and clutching the quilt tightly around her body. Solas watches her, questioning. As she cannot conceal the marks at her throat and the tops of her breasts from his view, she hopes her hair and the shadows fall in the appropriate places.

“Vhenan?” He probes.

Eludysia Adhlea Lavellan, you are a fool. Desiring is easy. Asking for explanations is easy. Receiving and examining them, and giving your own in turn—that’s the hard part.

“You’re the first person to care so much for me,” she says. A lump forms in her throat. She swallows, and glances at the sparks rising off the flames. Takes a breath to compose herself. “Growing up Dalish, sex was taught to me as a matter of practicality. We were given lessons on our bodies, taught how to protect ourselves, instructed through common knowledge and preserved texts and folktales, with the expectation of marriage and raising children one day. I’ve told you about my youth, so you know I was… Rather curious and rebellious.”

“As you’re still inclined to be.”

Solas’ wry note earns a nervous laugh from her. “You have a point. Well, I didn’t live in a village. I didn’t have a house with four walls and various rooms, let alone a castle, or stay anywhere long enough to figure out where there were good hiding spots. If I found someone to my liking, we had to be quick and discreet. That often meant we were rough. I’ve been bitten, swatted, I’ve had my hair pulled, and I’ve done the same to others—and there wasn’t time to embrace or curl up together or talk in bed like this.” Not even with Dhea. The thought is tinged with some regret. Not for what could have been. For what was. They were never right as a couple, but a few of the memories they made together might have been happier, had less insecurity and shame. Before Solas, she had no idea that sex could be so tender, so achingly sweet. She didn’t know someone could draw six, seven orgasms a night from her with the softest of touches. Nor what it would be like to be taken care of and then fall asleep in his arms afterwards. Being with him, in Skyhold and on their travels, has been a privilege she never envisioned for herself.

“I’m not telling you any of this to upset you further,” she hastens to add as his eyes widen. “But for you to understand: I like rough sex. I wouldn’t have sought it out or encouraged you if I didn’t. My only worry…” She swallows again. “Is that I’m mistreating you.”

He sits upright in an instant, closing the gap between them. “No, no. Nothing of the sort, vhenan.”

“You’ve done nothing but give into me, disregarding your own discomfort the entire night.”

“Would I not speak plainly if you had wronged me? My discomfort was caused by my guilt towards you. The actions I took were to assuage it.” He shakes his head at her. “You underestimate the extent of my selfishness.”

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t been selfish either.” Isn’t that how they ended up here? Mutual selfishness? She reaches for him with her free hand. He takes it, and she smiles faintly at their fingers interlacing together. “Heal the bruises if you like. I won’t complain.”

He hums, gently pushing her hair off her shoulders and lowering the quilt to her thighs. His fingers brush the edge of the mark at her throat. She tilts her chin up and straightens her posture for him. But he pauses. “First, answer this for me: Is there a reason you refused initially? You were fine with me fetching the cloth and wiping you.”

She shrugs. “Outside of this room, I’m the Herald and Inquisitor. People don’t see me. Not truly. They see whatever gives them faith, hope, or fear. You don’t. When I’m with you, I remember I’m more.” Gods, she sounds like Cole. Her nose scrunches. “I suppose the love bites and bruises just make that notion more tangible, odd as it sounds aloud.”

“On the contrary, it sounds like you’re clinging to your personhood however you can.”

Of course Solas would be the one to understand.

Eludysia cups his cheek and leans against his forehead. Her smile widens as his hand slides around the nape of her neck. “Maybe I don’t need them. Maybe it’s enough that you’re by my side.”

He chuckles, brushing his lips to hers. “I will be glad to remind you of the woman you are as often as you wish,” he murmurs.

Heat pangs in her belly at his words’ suggestiveness. “Good. Because if you’re up for another round…”

He pulls away, expression darkening. She opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is a squeal as she is suddenly on her back, the mattress bouncing underneath, his body atop hers.

“It’ll be easier to heal everything with a single spell later,” he explains before she can ask. He pins her wrists above her head. She feels his cock hardening at her thigh. “Is this all right?”

She laughs, leaning up to drag her teeth over his lower lip. “Perfect,” she says.

The grin he gives is wolfish.