#fuck Spiels am I going to write this one too???

[magdelanesingerin]

Oh NOOOOOO my HEART. OW.

Jaskier is absolutely the parent to do matching outfits!

[romanarose]

The Ghost of You

Banner by my dear @commonmisery

Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader

TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!

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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?

Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.

A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content

This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship

Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph

8.5 words

It was cold. That was annoying. How you’d wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, you’ll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.

You’d arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying she’d be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. You’d get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.

That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didn’t recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door. 

“It’s been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-”

“You don’t know shit!”

“Excuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!”

“Don’t you bring him into this. Don’t fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.”

A beat of silence. “You had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommy… Jackson is growing. We need the space-”

“You never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet you’re glad-”

The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the man’s temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.

“Settle down there, cowboy. Ain’t nice to yell at a lady.”

*

The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didn’t go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasn’t a threat.

After Tommy left with a pointed ‘fuck you’ in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes. 

“He’s a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just gets… well, there’s some sore spots. C’mon let’s get you home. I bet you’re tired.”

Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50’s maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadn’t even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you. 

The house was pretty empty. You’d been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family. 

The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and you’d been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.

In bed that night, that’s when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didn’t expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since it’s on springs, the latch must’ve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.

It didn’t linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your face… but you weren’t scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.

It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didn’t take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something you’d always been open to, but the question was who.

That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, you’d been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.

“I don’t like it there.” You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.

They moved it again.

“Come on, you’re being annoying.” You move, just for it to get moved back again.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.” No response, no movement. “Dick.” A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.

You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that must’ve not been cleaned. 

Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved to  “yes” when asked if they were a man.

“How old are you? Or- were you?”

5. 6.

“Old man.” You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. You’d learned this was his way of teasing.

“How did you die?”

D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g

“Don’t go golfing? What does that mean?”

No response.

“Was that a joke?”

Yes.

“Well, I don’t get it. You know that, right?”

Yes.

“Fine, don’t wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard it’s not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?”

2

“Go on.”

2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… where is the other?”

I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w

“Shit, i’m sorry about that too. Must be confusing.” Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. “Is your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?”

e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k

That broke your heart. “Must be scary.”

Yes

Then, the string moved again.

N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c

a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u

For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didn’t like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldn’t say his name.

But it was the first time you’d been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much. 

Even after you began working, every evening you’d run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.

“Don’t see much of you.” The doctor commented. “You adjusting okay? I know it’s a lot to get used to.”

You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didn’t get to know anyone… but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didn’t want to get close, that’s all. People died, you’d learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.

But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.

“Jesus! I’m going I’m going!” You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, you’re face to face with the fridge.

“If this is a fat joke- hey!” Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. “Okay, tell me what you want!” A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30’s, maybe 40’s if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.

“Is this you?”

The picture ruffled in your hand. 

“And the girl, that your daughter?”

The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long ago… you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.

“It’s so cute…” You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. You’d never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.

At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didn’t really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJ’s. 

You’d be lying if you hadn’t touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beard…

“Are you watching me?” You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didn’t really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.

A pause.

Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.

“Good.” You assure him, hoping he stays. “Want you to watch.” Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how he’d touch you-

“You can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.” It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirty… but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.

Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you. 

“You can kiss me. It’s okay.” It wasn’t as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.

“Wish you were here….” You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. “Never connected to anyone the way I have you.” A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldn’t do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum-”

Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.

“Joel.”

His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.

*

After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldn’t really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.

“Beautiful.” He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.

He thought you were beautiful when you came.

There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didn’t want to be away.

Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldn’t help laugh as he managed to speak “More seasoning” and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.

“You can just make it next time!”

You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.

“Tommy.”

Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didn’t answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.

When you answered, you would have shut the door if you weren’t curious about Joel’s reaction.

There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, that’s right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. “Can I talk t’yuh?”

You narrow your eyes. “Sorry, but the last time we spoke you weren’t exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time I’ve seen you, you give me dirty looks.”

He nods. “I understand, that’s why I uh… wanted t’explain myself. I shouldn’t’ve done that, but I was angry. Ain’t right, still…”

“What could I have possibly done to you?”

His eyes were large, brown, and wet. “This was uh… my brother’s house. He died 3 years ago.”

*

5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadn’t felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.

“Funny.” He pats the couch. “This was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.”

“It’s uh… a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?”

“Right…“ Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “The house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.”

“Did he die in here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls. 

The golf joke still didn’t make sense, but you’d figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joel’s birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.

“I know it ain’t right the way I’ve treat’n yuh. And I know it’s not your fault. I just hadn’t been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my son… I ain’t been the man he raised me to be. I now you don’t… do anything. In town. That’s probably my fault and I’m so-”

“You think I stay home because I’m avoiding you?” You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. “Brother, I ain’t scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!”

Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. “Oh… I guess I just assumed...”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming. Make’s an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.” You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.

Tommy follows you. “Well I’m sorry! I guess I just figured, the time’n ‘n all.”

You throw a look over your shoulder. “I stay home because I like it here. Because I’ve been alone for years, so I’m fine with it.”

“But why not-” He stops in his tracks. “Where did you get that?”

You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. “Uh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it up… why? Who is it?”

You knew the answer before he even spoke Joel’s name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.

“Keep it.” You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didn’t know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didn’t matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.

“That’s her. That’s Sarah.” Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl. 

“She’s adorable.”

“Yeah… she was. Great kid too.”

Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasn’t yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.

You told as much as he stood in your doorway. “I don’t hold it against you. I promise.”

He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. “Promise you’ll come to the next movie night, it’s tomorrow. It’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“What’s playing?‘

“Scream 2!”

You roll your eyes. “Not the first one?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tommy says with a tease. “Is fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?”

You shove him out of your door, laughing. “Fine! I’ll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.”

You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, you’d have screamed if you didn’t cover your mouth.

It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.

“Joel?” You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.

*

“Are you mad at me?” You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.

“No.”

“Well, you’ve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? I’m sorry, it’s just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-”

“I miss him.”

Three whole words. 

“You’re getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?”

“You saw me?”

“Yeah, and I hear you really good now.” You grin. “I can’t believe you’re talking this much. Maybe I’ll skip the movie, I don’t wanna lose-”

“No. Go.” a brief pause. “Please.”

“Joel Miller,” You tease him. “Are you having me check on your baby brother?” He rustles your hair.

*

So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to. 

You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as you’d done every night for months as you talk to him. Joel’s voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over. 

“Walker is doing really well.” You tell him about his nephew you’ve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joel’s death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldn’t be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and he’s repairing that relationship.

“You met him?”

“Yeah, he’s quiet. But he’s very polite.” Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.

He sighs. “Yeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raise’n Tommy was close enough. But when I was with him… Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her alive… yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommy’s grief, I guess. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walker… I dunno if I could have been that strong.”

A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. He’s no longer a still picture, he’s moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.

But he looks right at you.

*

You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes he’s tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes it’s more faint, like he’s using all his strength to be see and he can’t materialize his touch. You don’t know how it works, but you’re happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.

“You're beautiful.” And it’s your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasn’t enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him. 

A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. “I really don’t deserve you…” When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. “I’ve killed people.”

That wasn’t a shock. Who hasn’t? “I have too.”

But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if he’s frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. “No, I’ve killed innocents. A lot. Me ‘n Tommy, before… and protect’n Ellie…”

You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you don’t feel the repulsion you know he expects. “You kill children?”

“No.” He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didn’t think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. “But that don’t make it much better.”

“Did rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?” 

Disgust mares his features. “No, never.”

You nod. “You kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?”

Again, a shake of his head doesn’t knock loose a single hair. “No, but before-”

“I’m not worried about before.” You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50’s would be, but that’s what happens when you aren’t fully there. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-” You vaguely whisk your hand around. “Does things to us. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not a rapist, didn’t kill kids, not one of those really, really bad people… I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.”

His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. “Thank you, darl’n I mean it. I wasn’t always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,”

Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. “Tommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.”

But he’s still distant. “Maybe. But maybe he just misses me. That’s different. Besides, there’s someone I know hasn’t.”

“Ellie?”

He nods. “She…. well, we just started talk’n, right before I died. Didn’t have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.”

“She does, Joel. It’s been years, I know she does.”

But he didn’t believe you.

*

Joel’s words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though he’d never know-

Oh.

That’s why he was trapped here, wasn’t it? Joel’s ghost remained behind because he didn’t have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasn’t sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellie’s forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didn’y hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.

Joel couldn’t talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldn’t even move things or create a breeze when he was around…

If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking him… part of your mind told you that you could do it.

But that wasn’t right. He’d be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have? 

That wasn’t you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.

*

Tommy’s face was one of worry when you told him you’d seen the ghost of his brother. You’d spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.

“Yes! Tommy I’m fine-”

“I dunno, you’re kinda a weird person to begin with, see’n shit wouldn’t be that new-”

“Tommy!” You stand abruptly from his couch,  pulling at your hair. “I’m not seeing- I’m not hallucinating him! You don’t understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day that’s why I don’t go anywhere!”

A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Honey, maybe you’re seeing him because you’re alone every day.”

“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” You shout at him, and he softens. 

“I know, I know.” Tommy stands. “Maybe… maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-” he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.

“Does the term ��don’t go golf’n mean anything to you?”

Confusion crosses his face. “Not really, why?”

A deep breath. “He… I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said don’t go golfing. Never explained.”

Tommy’s skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. “How did you know that.”

You can’t help but groan. “I told you, he-”

“ENOUGH GAMES!” The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy must’ve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. “I’m serious. This isn’t fucking funny.”

Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didn’t think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. “I wouldn’t joke about this… he- he said it was a joke I wouldn’t get, and I don’t. Tommy please, I’m being serious…”

Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. “Holy shit. You’re telling the truth…”

“I am.” You sob. “Tommy I swear I’m telling the truth. He needs help, he’s trapped here… we need to help him…”

He was shaking. “C-can I see him?”

It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I think…He’s tired when you are over…“

Dizzy, Tommy sits down. “He was round… whenever I was over, wasn’t he? That’s why I always feel so calm there…”

You nod. “He calms me too. I don’t know how.” You join him on the couch again. “Tommy, what does don't go golfing mean?”

His face is buried in his hands, and you think he’s crying. It’s a lot, you know, it’ a lot to spring on someone, especially that he can’t hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.

When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.

“He was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.”

*

Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. “Something on your mind, darl’n?”

You don’t wanna lie to him, but you can’t tell him what’s happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.

“Tommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.” You didn’t tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if she’s there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman she’s never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.

A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.

Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and they’d been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happy… Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

You wanted one last night.

Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.

“Joel…” You moan, feeling him rutt against you.

“I know, I feel it too.” His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.

He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didn’t matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joel’s breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time. 

“You’re always s’fucking wet.” He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. “Been wish’n I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.”

You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. “Need you.” You beg like a needy young thing, like you’d never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged. 

“I got yuh, darl’n…” Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?

Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didn’t feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. “I hope yuh ain’t scared’a me? Are yuh?”

You’ve never been more sure of saying no in your life. “Ain’t scared.” You whisper. “I just… I love you so much…” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasn’t why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.

Joel’s eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. “I love you too. So damn much.”

Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. “Fuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel you…”

Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him. 

“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me…” He moans in your ear, desperate like he’s falling apart at one stroke. But he doesn’t. When he fucks you, it’s with more vigor, more energy than you’ve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished he’d bruise you, wished he’d cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.

He couldn’t do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. “Mark me.” You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. “I need to know this is real. All of it.” The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. “This isn’t forever, you know this can’t before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We can’t get married, you can’t leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.”

His movements slow. “Oh, pretty baby…” He murmurs lowly. “I’ll give anything if it means you can’t forget me.” he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

But nothing of Joel could be too much.

A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You shout so loud you don’t care who hears you. Half the town thinks you’re fucking Tommy anyway. Don’t stop fucking you, don’t stop marking you, don’t, don’t, don’t go.

You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you can’t see him any more. Anything so that he doesn’t get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.

He’s impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you don’t question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever he’s filling you with, you don’t care. It’s him. 

“More, more” You cry into his shoulder, but he’s already slowing his thrusts.

“I’m as deep as I can go, baby…” He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.

You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and it’s too much. You need more, but it’s not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.

It’s more time.

*

You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joel’s body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.

“Sorry baby.” He apoligized, hugging you. “I dunno why I can’t control coming better.” He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didn’t have it in you to laugh.

“It’s okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.”

“Yeah…” He touched the bandage he’d put on your hip with soft intent. “How you feel’n bout this?”

You smile. “Great. But Joel…” You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. “I gotta tell you something… I told Tommy about you…” Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. “And he went and found Ellie, she’s hear. I think… I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is cleared… you can move on.”

For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. “You know… that means I can’t see you again, right.”

Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. “I know, I know… but it’s not right for me to keep you here! You- you said it’s dark, and you’re scared.”

“I ain’t scared when I’m with you…”

“But you won’t always be with me! I need to help you move on! It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!”

He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. He’d see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.

His voice in your ear.

“Ellie.”

*

She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20’s with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you. 

“I’m gonna need more proof than some golf joke.”

“It was enough to get you here, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, that’s why I’m here.” She turned to her uncle. “We’re even, by the way.”

“Sure as shit are.” He sighs, then looks at you. “He here?” 

You gesture to the couch. “Yeah he’s sitting right- hey!”

Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.

“I don’t fucking feel anything.”

“That’s not how it works Ellie!” Tommy flicked her arm. “Relax.”

With a huff, she crossed her arms again. “Fine.”

Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. “Tell her something only Joel would know.”

When you turn to Joel, he’s looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet she’s still Ellie to him. He doesn’t turn to you. ‘David.’ He instructs, and you turn to her.

“Do you know a David?” And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, she’s shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. “Did Joel fucking telling you that!?”

From beyond Tommy’s protests that he doesn’t know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists he’d never tell that to anyone, but Ellie can’t hear him.

You try to calm them. “He says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.”

“Yeah! I fucking did!”

“He says if he goes to hell, David is the first person he’s finding.”

She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. “David tried to rape me when I was 14.” She grits out. “I stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.”

Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesn’t speak.

You nod. “Good.”

And then, she sinks into the couch. “Whenever I had nightmares… Joel always told me David was the first person he’d find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.”

You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. “He loves you both very, very much… and the uncertainty is what’s keeping him here. I need to help him move on.” 

“So what? You’re some sort of fucking medium?”

“No, I’ve never had anything like this happen before but… He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezes… then he started moving things, hearing his voice…. Now I can see him, he’s as clear as you are, honestly.”

Tommy speaks now. “He’s gotta know-” He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell he’s struggling to talk to a brown cushion. “You gotta know we love you, don’t know? How can you doubt that?”

‘Tell him I do. But tell him… I don’t know if he forgives me.’

“Joel knows you both love him, but that’s not why he’s stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.”

Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. “Joel… those things we did… it’s been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while but…” He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. “I got Walker now and… after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to survive… you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. I’d do the same for my kid, if I needed to.”

‘But I shouldn’t have made you do any of it, Tommy.’

“Joel feels bad that he made you participate.”

“You didn’t make me do fuck’n shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldn’t take lose’n your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.”

Ellie pipes up. “I get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didn’t know if I could forgive you… telling you I couldn’t… but… UUGHHHH!” She slumps down, covering her face. “Joel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we don’t know if it could’ve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I don’t know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-”

‘You were a teenager, that’s normal-’

“But I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I got my kid now. I know you’re old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-”

Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.

“But it’s Jesse’s. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and he… he died. But I’ve been raising him with her the last few years… She took me back… You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joel…” Ellie sighs, smiling. “She really does.”

‘Tell ‘er I’m glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.’

“Joel says he doesn’t blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says he’s glad Dina and you are happy. What’s the babies name?”

Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. “The baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.”

Tear fill up Joel’s eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice he’s not as clear as he was before.

“Joel!” You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. “Joel, I think it worked… you’re fading…” You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you weren’t sure what you’d do with your life, who you’d talk to or confide in…. But you knew, you knew above all you’d miss him. There would never be another Joel.

‘Please-’ He sounds desperate now, scared even. ‘One more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.’

Through your sobs, you relay the message. “He needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- you’re everything to him.” You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close. 

“We love you, Joel. All of us.” Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.

‘And the kids. Walker and- fuck I ain’t never met JJ but I love him too. If, if there’s a heaven I’m gonna…’ His words start to fade, but you know what he’s saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasn’t sure about that.

“He says he loves Walker and JJ, he’s gonna watch over them in heaven”

That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.

You look up at your lover. “I love you, Joel. I’m always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. It’s gonna be okay, I promise you. We’re gonna be alright, we’re doing okay. You can let go now. It’s okay to let go. There’s no one left you need to protect.. we’re safe.”

Even though he’s fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He can’t speak, his strength fading, but it’s all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isn’t holding Tommy’s brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again. There’s fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.

Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. ‘I see her’

All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.

For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.

Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.

*

When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe. 

“His last words were, ‘’I see her’....”

Tommy whispers Sarah’s name, and you nod. 

“He’s with her now. He’s a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, but…” Ellie wipes her tears. “We all know how much he missed her.”

Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.

Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didn’t feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didn’t scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.

You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.

It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.

But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.

No matter what happened, you’d always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.

I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.

Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.

Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!

follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!

So long, and thanks for all the fish <3

reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3

@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound

[the-modern-typewriter]

wgshdwgd im sorry if youre not accepting snippet reqs </333

but could i req you write abt a villain who *everyone* is genuinely terrified of. and then the hero just politely tells them to shut the fuck up. like, villain could be monologuing or smth and hero would cut them off saying that they would really appreciate it if villain could finish up in the next hour or so because they dont want to miss bargain day at the supermarket.

uwah im sorry if i broke any rules </33 stay safe its a crazy world out there <333

"-Could you please just shut up?"

There was a moment of absolute, horrified silence. One man promptly fainted. Nobody seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

The villain turned, slowly, towards the protagonist.

They were on their knees on the floor, surrounded by armed guards ready to execute the various staff still in their building. Their expression was one of exhausted long-suffering, one hand pinching the bridge of their nose as if to stave off a headache.

"Excuse me?" the villain asked, oh so softly.

"Will you please stop talking?" The protagonist dropped their hand, levelling the villain with a look. "Like, if you're going to slaughter the lot of us, just do it, don't make us listen to the spiel first. It's been forty five minutes."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No. But if I'm going to die, I think I'd like to get it over with. Otherwise, I'd like to just go about my day. I need to buy food before the shop closes and takeaway costs a fortune. I mean, bloody hell. Forty five minutes. Do you really think anyone here is listening?"

The villain stared.

"Like, not to be rude," the protagonist said. "But they're all scared out their minds. They are not processing the finer points of your monologue. It's just so unnecessary."

"I could cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I could cut out their tongues," the villain swept a hand around the room, "and feed them to you. That sorts out dinner, doesn't it?"

"I mean, I'm vegan, and not a cannibal, but I appreciate you're more concerned with being menacing than actually addressing the issue."

The villain stared some more.

The protagonist stared back.

"The data I need is still downloading," the villain said, after a long moment. "If I let you leave, someone will do something stupid like try and call the police."

"Sure, sure. But the monologue."

"You don't enjoy the sound of my voice?"

"I wouldn't take it too personally. It's been a week. Bit overstimulated, to be honest. Anyone's voice right now feels a bit like a cheese grater on my nerve endings."

"A bit like a cheese grater."

"No offense."

The villain blinked at them, slow and somewhat incredulous. "A cheese grater."

The protagonist shrugged.

"I'm assuming you didn't miss who I am in the last forty five minutes," the villain said.

"No."

"And yet."

"It's not that you're not terrifying," the protagonist said. "I just - forty five minutes. Humans aren't set up to be this stressed for forty minutes. My head is killing me. Processing all this - if you don't kill us - is going to be hard enough without having to fit in all the life admin I'm not currently getting done."

"Come here."

"...what?"

The villain crooked a finger to beckon the protagonist forward.

The protagonist swallowed, eyeing the villain warily, but didn't make them ask again. With a glance at the armed henchmen, they shuffled forwards to the spot the villain had gestured at their feet.

"You know," the villain said, "it's been a very long time since anyone has talked back to me."

"Sorry. I'm really not trying to be rude."

"No," the villain mused, head tilting with something alarmingly like curiosity as the protagonist came to a stop. "You're really not, are you? Turn."

"...turn?"

The villain gestured again, to indicate that the protagonist should face away from them.

"...You can't just give me all the orders at once? I get this is more dramatic, but I probably wouldn't be trying your patience as much if-"

The villain seized the nape of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a kitten, making their breath catch.

Everyone watched for the inevitable torment. The punishment. The kill.

The villain's fingers dug into the knots of tension in the protagonist's neck, power sparking up the touch.

The protagonist sagged. "Holy shit," they breathed.

"Better?"

"Um. I mean - yes - but -"

"Good." The villain glanced up to the henchmen. "Shoot everyone else."

"What? Wait - no -"

The sound was deafening.

Then the silence was, once again, absolute.

"You didn't have to do that," the protagonist whispered. "I didn't mean - if I offended you -"

"Oh, you didn't, don't worry. That's why you're still alive. Tell me about yourself."

The villain's grip stayed unrelenting on the back of the protagonist's neck, holding them securely in place.

"T-tell-?"

"We still have ten minutes," the villain said, in a tone of great patience, "before the download completes. Tell me about yourself. I shouldn't be the one doing all the talking, after all. It's very rude of me, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, the protagonist talked, watching the blood pool on the floor. What else was there to do?

The computer finally gave a quiet beep to indicate that the download was complete.

"Good. Very good." The villain gave the protagonist's neck another gentle enough squeeze. "Now. Let's go grocery shopping," the villain said cheerfully. "Up you get. Dinner's on me."

[sadesluvr]

The Hills (Part One)

JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: This is based off of my Poolboy! JJ idea, and mean girl! Reader was the most popular (I'll probably write for a Housewife! Reader too though) This is my first time writing for OBX, but I’ve been meaning to put this out for a while🤭…I have ALOT more scenarios to play with, so this will be Part I of 3, but can also work as a one shot if I get lazy. 

Not fully proofread, so sorry for mistakes!

Enjoy, and minors DNI.

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: SMUT / Poolboy! JJ / Mean!Kook! Reader / Degradation / Hatefucking / Teasing / LOTS of sexual tension / Unprotected sex / Light biting / JJ is feral and a little scary but it’s hot / Creampies

“Halle, grab the middle one would you? That way I can see Daddy on the golf course,”

Barf. JJ already knew what time it was.

For a girl who had it all, your life was rather methodical. You and your two friends would strut to the pool at 2PM on a Saturday, straight after your one o’clock tennis lesson and hours before you’d be whisked off to some fancy restaurant for dinner. That was your life, which, on multiple occasions, he’d heard you describe as “totally unfair”.

Sarah Cameron may have been the Kook Princess, but you were very well next in line. You were always draped in some kind of designer; was never one to miss a manicure, and kept yourself camera ready, as if there were a paparazzi around you. Still, you may as well have been, as you had all the friends, lovers and admirers a celebrity would’ve had.

However, you seemed to lack one special, but huge thing - basic fucking decency. 

In short, you were a bitch. 

And there was no one you were a bigger bitch to than JJ.

He never believed in your false virginal, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ spiel, and with good reason. You were snide, ungrateful, and had never even said as much as a ‘Thank you’ to him. 

Once, you’d even managed to ’accidentally’ spill a drink on him.

Without a doubt, today was going to be one of those days.

“Hey, poolboy? We’ve been here for ages and you haven’t even gotten us an umbrella. Do you want me to fucking die?” you scoffed, brow raised expectedly as your two friends, Bree and Halle and snickered beside you. 

“Chill out, ‘kay?” JJ said, rolling his eyes. “They’re in the same place they usually are. It’s not like you can’t do it yourself,”

“Do I look like a slave? Fetching umbrellas is what you get paid to do. Now hurry up and get us some Margaritas while you’re at it,” you said sweetly, a fake smile plastered over your face as you waved a hand dismissively.

Clenching his jaw, JJ was about to retort when one of his seniors, a middle aged man rather indistinguishable from the rest, intervened.

“Is there a problem here ma’am?”

“I don’t know, JJ,” you retorted pointedly, his name laced in venom as you spoke. And yes, you did know his name. Poolboy just rolled off of the tongue better. “Do we have a problem?”

Wincing, the blonde ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head.

“Nah,” he said through gritted teeth. “None at all.” 

He disappeared with a click of his tongue, blatantly aware of your smirk as you peeled off your scarf that hugged your waist. The lacy fabric danced off of your body to expose your torso and bare legs, glistening in the summer heat like a mirage in the middle of a desert.

As JJ clenched his fists, he couldn’t ignore the similar tightening sensation in his shorts, and quickly readjusted himself. 

He just couldn’t give you that kind of satisfaction.

Not for now, at least.

“Yikes, I know her —“

“—How could you not?”

“So Pope’s one of her groupies…Got it.”

“I am not one of her ‘groupies’, okay? She’s got the whole island palm of her hand. Of course I’d know of her!”

“Whatever…Groupie,”

The Pogues were sitting at the Chateau, forced to listen to JJ’s rant about ‘Little Miss Brat’ from the country club. It was obvious to all of them that JJ, though not quite yet in love, certainly had a crush, information that was particularly striking to Sarah.

“I totally know what she’s about,” Sarah said lazily, tossing her hair. “Rich, pretty, all round self proclaimed bitch…No wonder my brother has this huge crush on her,”

JJ blinked and pursed his lips. The mention of the Kook king was triggering enough, but more so that he was infringing onto Kook territory far more than he expected.

“Rafe’s into her?”

“Big time,” she shrugged. “She’s never paid him any time of day, though. ‘Could probably do better anyways…”

JJ clicked his tongue, and began to rapidly drum his fingers on the windowsill. He couldn’t help but smile as he gazed out onto the greenery, and his leg bounced in tune to the made up beat. 

“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?” Pope said quietly from across the room.

“What?!” he said, turning to the rest of the group, hands raised in defence. “You really think I’m gonna be stupid?”

“When are you not stupid?” Kie said flatly, to which Sarah nodded.

“Not much faith in you, buddy,” John B added.

“Wow, thanks guys,” the blonde said sarcastically, climbing to his feet and heading towards the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna smoke. Feel free to join me once you’re done with the dogpilling, ‘aight?”

He couldn’t wait for Saturday.

To his surprise, you’d shown up that weekend with relatively no fanfare. You were sitting in the same spot, dressed in your signature swimwear, with a short floral sarong clinging to your waist. Large sunglasses shielded your eyes as you basked in the rays, something that JJ was all too happy to interrupt.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Fortune…Where’s your entourage? Have they finally come to their senses and ditched you?” he said, stepping in front of you to block the light, eyeing the empty sunbeds on either side of you. 

You didn’t flinch.

“Shut up JJ, I’m not in the fucking mood,” you snapped, before waving a hand dismissively. “Just get me my usual,”

The boy grinned.

“So you do know my name? Or was that a recent development…?”

Scoffing, you pulled your glasses down to your nose before smiling at him sweetly.

“Of course I know your name,” you purred. “How else would I be able to make a complaint to your boss?” you finished with a shrug.

“My boss?” He choked. “What the hell do you want to speak to him for?”

“Don’t play dumb, Maybank,” you continued, gracefully swinging your legs to the floor and swiftly standing up. As you did, your breasts bounced slightly, a sight that came second only to the sight of your hips moving as you began to walk back into the building.

JJ furrowed his brows, swiping a tongue over his lips subconsciously as he followed you.

“I’ve seen you checking me out,” you hummed, side eyeing the way the blonde stalked you through the corridors. “I’m pretty sure that’s sexual harassment,”

“Jesus - fuck - you’re such a bitch, you know that?” he sighed frustratedly, running his hands through his hair.  As you neared the opposite end of the hall; just around a corner by a supplies room, you stopped, turned and smirked as you faced him. 

There was no denying that he was sexy when he was angry; with his hair becoming tousled and pointed like mini devils horns, and the passion in his blue eyes growing deeper by the minute. You were more than aware that he was no prize, but sometimes the forbidden fruit was often the sweetest.

“I mean, how do you wear those skimpy little tennis skirts and swimsuits and not expect any guy to look?” he said, exasperated, but the rigidity of his body told you otherwise.

“So you don’t deny it?” you grinned. “Interesting…”

JJ let out a loud sigh.

“Look, not that it matters to you, but I can’t fucking lose this job. I’m already on thin ice,” he said, suddenly grabbing your arm as if he were about to throttle you. His firm grip and his equally stern voice sent a tingle down your spine and eventually pooled in your loins. It certainly wasn’t the aircon that was giving you goosebumps.

You scoffed and pulled your hand away, making JJ bite his lip.

“That’s not my problem!” you spat, beginning to walk away when JJ stopped you again, this time cornering you up against a door. You blinked as he wedged you between the surface and his toned arms, one leg brushing dangerously against your own to keep you in position as his pelvis was pointed towards your own. Trembling, a raspy voice emitted from his throat as he cautiously looked around.

You were alone. Just the two of you.

“…W-What is your problem?” he said through  gritted teeth, eyes furiously locked onto your own. “Did you break a nail? Daddy cut your allowance, huh? Haven’t been fucked in a while?”

Pausing, your brows raised slightly upwards as your lips parted at the statement. Any other guy who would’ve said that to you would have ended up with a swift kick in the balls.

The blonde chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t genuine, but out of pity.

“…So that’s it, huh?” he laughed, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek, casting your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t lost on you how a sly smugness was smeared across the boy's face, his pink lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them.

“You know, I could probably help you out with that, but I know that a guy’s gotta have a thousand dollars to —“

You cut him off by planting a swift kiss on his lips, draping your arms around his neck as you gently grazed your manicured nails across his skin. He wasted no time in pulling you in by your lower back, and you rubbed your front against his hardened cock, more than aware of the lack of material between you two.

Before he could get too cocky, you pulled away.

“If you say one goddamn word about this, not only will you be fired, but I’ll ruin whatever you and your little Pogue friends have on this island, got it?” you said, voice hushed.

JJ smirked, and saluted.

“Yes ma’am…” he snickered, and you rolled your eyes, quickly taking his hand and dragging him into the supply closet, before intertwining yourselves together again.

“Daddy’s taking me home in ten,” you breathed between kisses. “We don’t have all day.”

“Lady, I don’t want to hear about your ‘Daddy’ right now,” JJ said, lithe fingers sliding down your body to squeeze your ass, absentmindedly pressing his cock against your thighs. He wanted you; all of you, but truthfully he knew that there was one way he wanted to take you.

Mean girls deserved punishment. Mean girls deserved to be fucked like the bitches they were.

JJ let out a soft groan as you felt your way into his swim shorts, bucking his hips into your hands as you jerked his cock in a haste to put him inside of you. Pressing your back against the wall, you arched your back as you waited for him to take you…but it didn’t come.

“JJ…” you whined. “Don’t waste my fucking time…”

“Woah, there. Pretty eager, are we?” he grinned. “What makes you think we’re doing it on your terms?”

You were about to answer when JJ placed a finger to your lips, running his finger down to your chin and caressing up your jawline, holding your face still in his hands.

“Bend over.” he said, borderline emotionless, and you slowly obliged, nodding as you spun and pressed your face against the cold wall. JJ exhaled from his nose, eyes locked on your body as he stalked you, slowly kissing along your neck as he left rough love bites, tracing down to your collarbone and causing you to let out a soft, yet impassioned moan.

“JJ…You can’t do that…”

“My bad, princess,” he scoffed, pulling his lips away from the crook of your neck. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your image and all…”

He pushed your stomach against the wall, and you arched your back slightly, allowing him access to slide his fingers into your swimsuit, rubbing the outside of your folds before pushing the tip of his dick in.

JJ considered himself to be a guy who liked the fast life, but he was going to take his time with you. 

Call him cocky, but he knew this wasn’t going to be your last time.

Though he had a fairly regular girth, his cock had a decent length, and you could feel a prominent vein pulse within you as he rocked his hips in and out of your desperate cunt. His hands tightened around your hips, groping at the soft flesh of your ass through gritted teeth as he revelled in the sound of your moans.

“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet…How long have you wanted me, hm?”

“This is nothing,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the painfully pleasurable sensation. “Don’t let it get to your head, Maybank.”

“Oh, so the way you’re gripping my cock is nothing, right? Jeez, you could’ve fooled me, princess,” he laughed, biting down on his bottom lip. “What would Daddy say if he saw his Kook princess getting railed like a whore by a dirty Pogue, huh? Shit, I bet Rafe would fuckin’ lose his mind…”

Your stomach formed knots at the statement, and you felt your legs tremble as you clenched around him. His cock was hitting each and every untouched crevice perfectly; every withdrawal and thrust of his hips making you want him more. JJ was rabid; fucking you like he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to kill you or consume you. Judging by the way he pawed at your body, you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk back to the foyer (tomorrow morning was another story) without looking like you’d been in a catfight.

Mouth agape, you managed to turn your head just enough to face him - his face flushed and glassy eyed - and locked eyes before you spoke. Whether it was your biological high or something rather deeper, you were able to see the beauty in him. JJ was rugged, certainly rough around the edges, but he was beautiful.

“JJ…” you whispered. “I-I I need you to cum…”

“Already on it, m’lady,” he snickered, and angled his head to pull you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as his pace, though quick, became more shallow and disorganised - almost convulsing as he felt himself begin to come undone inside you.

JJ ran his hand through his hair, separating the clumped strands that clung to his forehead. His heavy pants soon became gentle breaths; but he didn’t let go of your body, instead beginning to trace small circles on your hips as he softened inside of you. Once the time was right, he pulled away, careful to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Although he couldn’t place it, he knew he felt different. 

PART TWO

[mx-myth]

So here's the mlc pacific rim au finally (told in bullets because that's usually how I do things when I'm not frantically typing and instead frantically writing on sticky notes)

(Titled "mlc pacific rim aka drift au" funnily enough)

Lxy and dfs who were rivals during Jaeger training

By the end they learn they're extremely drift-compatible but due to a freak event where they have to emergency-pilot a Jaeger lxy gets an injury that makes him permanently unable to pilot forever

Dfs also gets injured badly but not as severely and does recover after a few years

But no one for the next several years is drift-compatible with him so he just. Stays at the dome

He's a stellar pilot (aced all of his training) but everyone knows him as the man who is rapidly leaving his prime piloting age (which I'm somewhat making up. Think of it like how athletes have a "prime" age)

Lxy becomes a pilot trainer at the dome and he and dfs do become friends eventually but the bitterness of what they could have been always tinges their relationship

But a few to several years later fdb shows up for Jaeger pilot training. He's very good, though his file is all about how sickly he was as a child (lxy likes him and thinks he's quite promising - "He reminds me of us, feisheng")

They do a preliminary drift-compatibility test in the class at one point and it turns out fdb is compatible with exactly no one in the class. Lxy observes how much it depresses him and how he throws himself into his training as a result of it (lxy: "he reminds me of you, feisheng") (dfs, who at this point still hasn't seen fdb yet: "fuck off")

(Little do they know that the reason fdb wants to be a Jaeger pilot so badly is because he saw the Jaeger Lotus Tower save his home city live on TV when he was in the hospital. Something something lxy and dfs gave him a reason to live)

Dfs assists lxy in one of his classes because he's curious about this boy lxy talks about sometimes (he complains about all of his students but when referring to fdb he always ends up praising him a little, which dfs notices) and

Dfs, literally vibrating: xiangyi. I'm going to fight him

Lxy, who has also wanted to do that since forever: lol just don't kill him and stay in the sparring ring

(It is a beautiful match. Dfs hasn't felt this alive since he was in the drift with lxy. Fdb hasn't felt this alive since he saw Lotus Tower on TV)

(Not that he knew that it was dfs and lxy who saved him. Not that he knows that now)

Lxy notices how they seem to click and Meddles(TM)

(He's resigned himself to a future devoid of the passion and youth of his past. But he won't let dfs rot away too)

So the next time his class test drift-compatibility he drags along dfs

Dfs digs his heels in and is like. Xiangyi. Why am I here. These are Kids.

Lxy: "you'll see. Fang duobing, come here"

Basically he whips out a stack of paperwork and launches into a spiel of how he petitioned the higher-ups for an opportunity for dfs and fdb to test their drift-compatibility as he shoves them into the testing unit)

(It is, perhaps, the moment when fdb begins to look at lxy like he hung the moon)

(It is, perhaps, the moment when dfs finally sees a bit of the old lxy return)

Fdb and dfs turn out to be just as drift-compatible as lxy and dfs once were (and still are.)

They begin training together. Dfs feels alive again. Fdb feels like he's finally living properly

Lxy has another one of his Hunches(TM)

When they complete partner training and are now certified co-pilots he smugly presents them with a repaired Lotus Tower (who has basically when sitting in what amounts to the Jaeger garage for years). Dfs has the hugest smile on his face ever. Fdb cries

(This is mildly alarming for the two of them. Lxy and dfs have no idea how he loved (loves) the Lotus Tower and loved (loves) them as the ones who gave him a reason to continue living)

(Fdb tells them how the Lotus Tower and her only pilots saved his life. Dfs and lxy are stunned)

(Yes, Lotus Tower was built for them. They were her only pilots. They had no idea that the only time they had ever piloted - the only city they had ever saved from destruction by kaiju - would have such a huge impact on anyone, much less that they would ever meet anyone they had saved)

Lxy: "duobing..."

Dfs: "xiangyi." (What he doesn't say: tell him.)

They tell him. Fdb cries even more. He hugs then. Maybe he even kisses them. (He loves them. He loves them so much. He loves them as the pilots of Lotus Tower who saved his life. He loves them as his new co-pilot and his instructor. To find that they're one and the same - is it not fate?) (He can't believe that he'll be Lotus Tower's third pilot; this must be a dream. He loves her too)

(By the way. Huli Jing is lxy's dog. They go everywhere together. She is Constantly Underfoot Being Adorable. Fdb brings her treats during his classes)

Extra stuff I'm making up RIGHT NOW

Lxy and dfs held onto their drift as long as they could. As a result it never completely fizzled out (does the drift ever leave, after all? Do you ever lose that kind of connection?). Once they both recovered fully from their injuries they drifted properly in the testing units at every chance they got (it was a trapping of co-dependency) (it was also the sort of thing to get lxy barred from any promotions and permanently confine him to be an instructor) (Not that he ever wanted to move up. Not that he ever even cared). By the time fdb comes around they're only stealing drifts a couple times a year

Lxy and fdb are also just as strongly as drift-compatible. They're able to very tangentially feel each other through dfs. Dfs gets tired of seeing fdb wince when lxy stubs his toe (often)/lxy grab his water when fdb burns his tongue eating too fast and shoves them both in a testing unit. Lo and behold.

(All this results in is that they start playing video games that use technology that essentially is just a baby drift. They play a mystery/crime thriller story game set in historical China and fdb and lxy get really competitive over who can solve the cases first. Dfs just wanders about enjoying the graphics and occasionally being the Owner of the Braincell and less often acting as the cannon they point at npcs because he chose the warrior-type character with a bad reputation) (Yes it's mlc as a game)

Dfs and lxy shared a cabin as co-pilots but now live separately in two of the permanent suite residences in the dome. Fdb gets one on a technicality of "Well your co-pilot is refusing to give up the nice cushy lodging we gave him"/"Oh your mom is actually rich from inventing and patenting a bunch of the technology we use you can have a suite too" (that's how lxy and fdb find out fdb is kind of a rich boy) (but he spends more time in lxy's rooms or dfs' anyway)

[roleplayhonestybox]

Just some time to whine - and no, it's not that I don't understand, I do - but I just feel so frustrated and disappointed now I could cry. So here's my totally first world problem rant: My RP partner says they have finally a long weekend due to the holiday - Thursday to Sunday - and they are looking forward to write aaaaaaall four days. They make it a really big thing and talk about it and are excited. They wanna write ALL day. EVERY day. AAALL the stuff they'll be writing. Because they can't really do asymmetrical and I always need to be around for them to write. Which is fine. I can do that. Life's rough, I understand. They are American. I am not. I'm European with a hefty time difference and a full work week. So I shovel Friday completely free - cancel all appointments - and even a chunk of my Thursday work day. I can't just take them off - I need to stuff the work I would have done on Friday and that chunk from Thursday and work it off on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Which made my days extremely long and exhausting, but I thought: hey, it's for a good cause! We're going to write like the devil. All day. Every day. Thursday comes, I rush out of work, it all starts wonderfully. We're both excited. Then a problem comes up. Family stuff. Understandable. We spend the night chatting. One things leads to another, the topic gets really dark. I try to be a good friend. I try to help. I stay up until 9am in my time zone. I really don't sleep a lot that night. Friday comes, and they're exhausted. They're tired. They sleep most of the time of the day I took off for us. So we could write, like they wanted to. Saturday comes. They said they'd be around nice and early. I'm around nice and early. They aren't. They were tired and went back to sleep (and couldn't even let me know with a short message - knowing that I was waiting). The RP drags on and I spend the day waiting and waiting - for literal hours.

Sunday comes. Same spiel. They are tired. They have kids to watch. They need a nap. They need to cook.

In the end, I got one or two replies per day for the threads I got to choose. Each day, but, yeah, with me being around for roughly 15 hours for them each day, too. There are a few more replies for the quick things they wanted to do and their favourite is something I absolutely struggled through because I wanted to make them happy, but my heart's really not in it. But I want to be a good RP partner. I want to be a good friend.

So, yes, I understand. Family and real life first. There's no lack of understanding. It's a hobby. Nobody can change how tired they are. Nobody can influence when life fucks with plans. I understand. I am not blaming them. I am not trying to be difficult. I'm not a bitch about it.

But this whole thing I worked for so hard to make it even happen turned out to be such a fucking disappointment and full of frustration that I honestly just want to cry. It just fell so flat I don't even have words for it. No word again that I cancelled everything to be with them, but maybe they don't even realise or remember, because they slept half the time.

(Also: no, I'm normally not the one to expect several replies every day. They can't RP on workdays? Fine. They need time to go through stuff? Fine. They get sick and can't write? absolutely no problem, of course. They stopped replying to so many threads in the past and I've been waiting for weeks or months sometimes, so that's not my problem here. But when we make arrangements to sit together for the sole purpose of writing all day and I clear my schedule for three and a half days - it frustrates me when I sit around and wait for hours for a single reply - just to clarify.)

So with all due respect and necessary understanding - I know they didn't choose this - I'm just so angry, too. Not at them. But that this didn't work out, at all. And I can't even show it because it would hurt them, because I know they were just exhausted and tired and it's not their fault - and I don't want that.

Goddamn, I was looking forward to this so much and I feel so hollow right now, because I spent most of these past three and a half days waiting for them... I feel like I could have done more productive things in three days that would have made me feel much better.

I need a hug...

(sorry for the rant...)

.

[just-jordie-things]

spiderman fan anon here again who yapped abt how i think ur spideygumi fic is the literal greatest spidey au of all time.. sry i hope ur not tired of hearing abt it but i just reread the fic (again) and i cant stop thinking abt what mc and megumis development would be like from here… megumi is definitely not the typical peter-parker-type with his sense of justice (as one of his figures’ packaging hilariously summarizes “i save people unequally”) which has SOO much potential for a Good fucking hero story AND new relationship dynamic. like maybe megumi tries to become kind of a more “moral” hero on his own, but shit happens, maybe the govt or police are too corrupt and he realizes he can only trust himself to bring justice to the city, a more batman-like mentality. would mc have a problem with his morality and pull away? would she agree with it and help him as a journalist? would she disagree and give him the With great power Comes great responsibility spiel, leading to him growing into a more “true” spiderman-like hero? Idfk i do not write at all but i cant turn off my comics-loving brain with all this potential!!! i also dont mean to push u to write any of this but i had to talk abt it before i Exploded

the way i wanna make this fic a 5 movie franchise now becuz OMG THE AVENUES THIS OPENS UPPP

i am a marvel girl (sorry battinson baby even u aren't my fav) so i see spiderman!gumi having a deadpool mentality but without the mouth lolol

ok here's some very small thoughts i have about what a continuation in the story would've looked like:

he tries to find a mix between the public eyes' idea of the right thing and his version of the right thing but... dammit some people just gotta suffer a bit don't they?

he sees someone get a lil too harsh with a dog and he can't just give em a lil scare. next thing he knows they're beaten beyond recognition and webbed up to a wall for the police to deal with. fuck that guy, who hurts dogs??

when the news starts to call him things like menace and people start to wonder if he's not the altruistic hero they thought he was, megumi tries to balance between the different schools of thought of justice. he has you by his side, supporting him and wishing him all the best with being the best he can be...

so when some perp he's apprehending starts spouting off some real nasty shit, megumi tries to tell himself that prison will bring him to justice. over and over in his head he tells himself that he has to let some things go...

but damnit this bigoted asshole won't shut up and megumi just doesn't see how society could possibly function with pieces of shit like this roaming around. and no, when the guy's body goes limp after a swift ninety-degree head-spinning snap to the neck, megumi doesn't feel any regret. only relief that there's one less bastard in his city.

as for you, you've always trusted in spiderman. so you're learning to place your trust in megumi, too. you hate the rare occasion when he visits you bloodied and bruised, but you hate the idea of a city without spiderman's protection even more. you've been a fan of spiderman since the first day you'd heard of the sightings. a ride or die doesn't walk away just because things are getting a little nastier out there.

a career in journalism will prove to be difficult. the truth about megumi's double life is a secret that you both understand must stay contained no matter the price. you probably bounce around a few firms, trying to find just the right place to land where you can write the truth without revealing too much. however most outlets just want to report on the crimes spiderman himself has committed, and you struggle with badmouthing your hero (and your boyfriend)

i like to think megumi laughs at the papers trying to paint him as a villain. it doesn't stress him out, it's nothing to him really. just a source of entertainment for him to read to you over dinner. between the two of you, you handle the ugly headlines far worse. but megumi likes to rile you up by reading all the worst ones to you, just to make you fuss over it all. some nights it's like you're rivals again- megumi taunting you with the latest edition of the spider-menace storytelling, chuckling when you start to crinkle your brows and spout off about how some writers are uneducated phonies or how they're ungrateful for what he's done. you never fail to go on a long winded rant followed by some chugged down water. and as always, megumi will just smirk and shake his head as he throws away said latest edition.

___

i lost wind here but i would love to hear if anyone has other thoughts too!!

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Final Week Set A (1/1/24-7/1/24)

Model Used is Tsonghan Wu

Here we are bros. I decided to end it early since I accidentally started the Jockbull summer in like the last month of Spring. So we’ll call this a season. 8 weeks and then onto the next. Additionally, interest largely seem’s to have waned and I wanna focus on giving some more stuff that’ll keep your attention rather than flooding your dashboards lol. These will be my last set of diary write ups. And then next week I'll have a retrospective detailing how things went and what I'm likely to keep

1.

I’ll be straight and real with yall. This was probably the worst week yet lol. Mentally i just wasn’t here. Lots of stress and strain. I do have a new workout structure, that includes AMRAP pushups near the end. Diamond push ups that really tire you out by the time you finish all your other training, but its not quite the same or for the same purpose. I tried to sort my time table so that Pushups were combined with the times i wanted to work on my PT cert early in the day. But that has yet to really work out.

2.

Keeping with the smite idea from previous weeks I managed to go on a 3 game win-streak. Total ez streak, possibly because my Elo was reset from not playing in such a long time. But dunking is still dunking and you still get the mental endorphin rush from winning. Only thing that broke the streak is that my Duos partner (yet another Muscle brained Gym bro that i’ve known for years) had to dip mid game. Tragic.

3.

Since this is the last week and its even I didn’t throw anything out. But I am going to have one final push to get some of the last chunks of shitty oversized clothing out of my life. Gonna make an attempt to throw out 4 more pieces of clothing and then the lot will be going to the charity/thrift shop.

4.

I’m good enough at this. I’ll use it more often. And I am 100% going to do that Bro voice file at some point in the future.

5.

There is an episode of Baki where the main character is lying in bed with his girlfriend horny as hell, and they are about to fuck when Baki’s father, Strongest man in the world Yujiro, appears out of the darkness to cheerlead them fucking. And more than cheerlead. This man encourages the most relentless rauchy unending stream of fucking bitches from his 18 year old son. Literally morning noon and night boning down. It sounded like a passage from Alpha breeder. Unbelievable. Why doesn’t this show have more fanart?

6.

A kind of gymbro failure story which makes me sound like a bit of a douche but i also don’t care.

I’m pretty regularly one of the bigger guys in the gym at any given time. Not always. And that’s not really a compliment to me and more of a dunk on the kind of establishment that my gym is. So this one dude has kinda latched onto me as his story for hope cause of all the weight i lost and how much i’ve grown. I think he’s convinced i’m going to give him the secret formula and not just tell him “Just keep training and eat properly.” He came up to me this week and asked if he could come and workout with me another day. Gave some spiel about needing someone to motivate him and keep him going. He’s another immigrant too. So I commiserate with that and I told him sure, even tho i don’t particularly like training push with other people. But then on the day he was supposed to come at the time we had set up he just…didn’t show. Which makes sense. I tried telling him, motivation should be internal. Consistency comes from discipline. But he didn’t want to hear it. And so the outcome made sense. I wasn’t super broken up about it, Just meant i got to train push on my own in peace and quiet.

[thekingofwinterblog]

Ok so, having seen the Gameplay trailer that Bioware pulled out of their ass in the aftermath of possibly the worst videogame trailer in history, i have to say im not impressed... But i almost am.

Because they ALMOST got it right. Like all the building blocks are there, but it's always just one step off from being great.

Like the character models dont look anything the like the complete joke that was the fortnite DA trailer... But while you can tell the animators put their heart and soul into the models, they still look awful.

And it's ALL the lighting and coloring's fault.

The thing is, the models and enviornment doesnt look terrible in a vacuum... but the problem is that it ALL blends together. It's all just a mixmatch of colors and shades that makes the entire thing look like an uncoordinated mess with no rhyme or reason behind it.

Take this shot of minarathous. It's not just grey, on top of grey, but it sure looks like it. The colors, rather than contrast and embolden everything to make it look striking, instead makes it one, big, sloppy looking mess.

Here is one, single shot from Inquisition to illustrate the poiny. Notice how everything is very grey here too, but the way the lighting is, you can easily differentiate between everything, every character sticks out so much better and looks infinitly more interesting and memorablr just by virtue of not looking like they're part of the background.

It's not a coincidence that the only part of this gameplay showcase that looks absolutely stunning is Solas, because he is the only character who actually has the lighting to stand out, both when illuminated by the blue magical energy withouth the purple, white and blue mess that is now how magical energy looks, but also in the shots where he's illuminated by the veil.

I can tell you why it looks like this too.

The lighting and colorists of the development team was trying so, so very hard to make the concept art lighting translate to 3d models and enviornments... And it just doesnt work.

Maybe there is a way to make these pieces work in 3d, but this sure aint it.

Maybe the enviornments that are set in the daylight will look better, but i can tell you, that with this engine and style, every single nightshot is going to look absolutely atrocious, regardless of wheter the models look better than that horrible fortnite trailer.

Then there is the dialogue.

Now there are a lot of complaits that a lot of the dialogue is the usual by now terrible Marvel "banter" that the MCU unfortunately popularized.

You know, the quirky, dont take itself too seriously style of writing that almost never works outside the MCU pre Endgame.

But that's actually not my main vomplaint with it.

My complaint is how... Lifeless the voice actors sounds.

I just listened to these lines, and the thing that struck me is not that they're bad, but how i KNOW both Varric and Solas Voice actors are so much better than this.

"People are dying right now! You need to listen!" "People are always dying. It is what they do."

Like... These lines SHOULD work.

I know the common joke is that this is the usual terrible dialogue in the vein of "My face is tired from dealing with you", but the fact is that it's actually good on paper.

Varric here should sound like he's pleading, making one, last, final plea to his old friend Solas, reminding him that people are fucking dying all around them(Though the rest of the scene dont exactly convey that).

A plea to his humanity.

And solas throws back that he knows. He KNOWS people are dying. That's what they always do.

For anyone who knows Solas at all, this is such a good line. You dont need him to go into a spiel about how his entire reason for doing this is so that people no longer have to die all the time, that the entire reason they do die is because of him...

It should work... but it doesnt.

Solas Actor is NOT giving it his A-Game. At all. And neither is Varric's.

He doesnt sound like the emotional Solas we saw in Inquisition, and frankly neither does Varric. Any and all charisma both had are seemingly gone, replaced by two actors who make the characters sound like themselves, but eithouth the emotion that made them work.

Just hearing Solas telling Varric that this story does NOT end with his downfall just makes me think that the actor either didn't give a shit, or was bored... Which was just hammered in further when Solas just gives a pathethic scream of "Noooooo!" When his big plan is foiled.

Maybe it's that the rest of the writing is just so bad that they just gave up, or they had the same level of quality for their voice director that george lucas gave his actors during the prequel triology filming.

Either way, this really just hammered in the point for me of kind of game we're getting here... And i didnt even touch the gameplay in this post.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Chapter 1– If Your Daughter Needs a Void

Everyone Loves Contractors

Everyone in Jackson had a role to play, a responsibility to fulfil towards the community. They all fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Except for Joel Miller who knew how to protect and make deals but not to chaperone children’s dances and bring cookies to the bake sale. Ellie was his purpose and he would do anything from heinous crimes to social events if it put that toothy smile back on her face. Luckily for him, he isn’t the only single parent in town who could relate.

Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k words

A/N: I am not immune to Pedro Pascal. Something I looove seeing in TLOU is its age appropriate relationships like with Joel and Tess. I want to see more graying older men falling in love with older graying women. So, I’m writing one.

Joel Miller walked up to his door, his knees creaking like the doors of a haunted mansion and his back begging him to lie back down on his bed. The incessant knocks had finally gotten to him. Sleep was not something he found often. Peaceful sleep was even more of a rarity. He was going to bash in the head of whoever was stood outside being an absolute fucking menace.

His anger simmered when he opened the door to find the kid smiling sheepishly at him. She was wearing a different backpack now, the one she was painting stars on just last week. It was filled with books and little knickknacks instead of the handgun, pun book and non-perishable food of their traveling days. The purple keychain had moved from that old tattered pack to the new one, a little brighter after being scrubbed thoroughly under the sink.

“Could’ve used your key,” he snapped, walking in and letting her follow him inside. The backpack fell to the floor with a thump right by the door even though he had asked her to place it on the side to keep from blocking the exit. He was deaf on one ear, but kids were selectively deaf to their parents on both ears.

“Relaaax man,” she whined, crashing on the sofa and putting her dirty boots up on the coffee table. “I just forgot to take my key with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, walking into the kitchen even though his feet ached to climb the stairs back up to the bedroom and resume sleep. But he knew better than to try his luck. It was a miracle that he was able to close his eyes for— he looked up at the clock to check the time— 2 hours. Trying for sleep again would be futile. Besides, the kid would be hungry after running around in school the entire day.

He would ask her to reheat the rice he cooked for them and eat by herself, but that just felt wrong. Like he was shirking his duties as her…whatever.

Not seconds after putting her backpack down and crashing on the couch, she began her usual spiel about what happened in school. It was strange at first to hear her rant about everything she learned and all the games she played and petty fights she had with her schoolmates. It all felt too normal, too much like the times before. It put him on edge, like this normality would end at any second and he would be back in the wild, failing her over and over.

And then there was the guilt…there was always guilt. His past failures always came crashing in with every single thing Ellie did.

Today, it was in answering the door for her when she returned from school. It was in standing there and reheating the rice in the cast iron pan as she spoke about the asteroid belt and Jupiter’s moons. His heart clenched as he thought of his Sarah coming home, opening the door to their empty house, doing her homework and studying and reheating the food by herself. No one to talk to about her friends, no one to listen to her about her crush on some boy if she even had one… He didn’t know. He was out there working and working and working, putting food on the table and money in a savings account for her to go to college. And it was all for naught— both Sarah and money stopped being part of their world.

She would be in her thirties now, much older than the kid he was now fathering instead of her. Hell, she might have her own kid. He would be close to retirement, looking forward to being just Grandpa Joel.

“—and then I showed him how it’s done. Three bullets, one by one PEW! PEW! PEW!” She said, making guns with her fingers and shooting in front of her. “All bullseye. He was standing there like—” she gasped and re-enacted how her classmate looked at her in wonder at her shooting skills.

“Don’t forget that you were also a terrible shot before I spent many weeks teaching you how to shoot. Don’t show off around your schoolmates. Help if you can, or just shut up.” He had these ‘normal’ concerns again. Her teachers had called him for a parent-teacher conference where they expressed concerns about her behaviour— too loud, too quiet, too aggressive, too brash, too isolated. They always compared her behaviour to that of other kids her age. He wanted to scream at them, shake them by their shoulders until it registered that his kid had been through things they will never understand, that they should fucking get over it and just teacher her math. But he couldn’t.

It was some bullshit.

All he could do without having her kicked out of this safe haven was to try to change her behaviour.

“Come on, maaan! Let me show off the one skill I have. They are all better at other subjects than me and I’m the dumbass in every class. I’m gonna be the best at the shooting classes.”

“You can be the best at something without being an ass— without being rude,” he said, plating the rice and placing it in front of her. His mouth was the problem, he realised. If he swore in every breath, she would be encouraged to do it too.

She shoveled the food in her mouth, her manners still…absent. She was better behaved than on their first day here, but her behaviour still left much to be desired. He didn’t blame her. This was her first time in polite society and it hadn’t been long since they got here. Hell, he grew up in a normal world and he still caught himself behaving like an animal sometimes. That is what two decades of life in an apocalypse did to a man.

“Well, you were a smug asshole when you started teaching me how to shoot. You had that smirk on your face like you thought you were the shit.”

“Language, Ellie. I know this is the way you are used to speaking. But, it’s not considered nice here.”

“Oh, give me a goddamned motherfucking break, Joel. Isn’t this the point of having a home? Saying whatever you want and being who you are? I’m faking it outside, okay? Just let me be in here,” she snapped, getting off the chair and marching up the stairs. The door slammed and Joel froze, clueless about what to do.

The thought he was trying to push away for so long came rushing back in despite his best efforts— Sarah never did that. He knew it wasn’t productive to do that. Comparisons served no purpose. Comparing your pseudo-daughter with your daughter who died two whole decades ago was even more useless. Ellie was not the same person, Ellie didn’t grow up in the same world that his daughter did. He was not the same man either.

What was he even supposed to do in this situation? Ground her? He never had to ground Sarah. What would that even mean in this world, in this town, for a girl who had seen horrors beyond the imaginations of her peers in Jackson. Wouldn’t it be cruel to take away the freedom of a kid who had only just gotten it?

Sighing, he put away the pan in which he heated the rice, hoping that he could reheat her rice when she was in a better mood. And he was not really in the mood to clean up.

When it had been half an hour since their argument, he climbed the stairs to Ellie’s room, grunting as his knees reminded him of the wear and tear they had been through to get him to this point. The plate of rice, warm once again, sat hopefully on the palm of his left hand as his right knocked on her door.

“Whaat?” Asked a muffled voice from inside the room.

He cleared his throat before asking, “Can I come in?”

He needed to put the plate down. His palms were suddenly sweaty and he was afraid he would drop the warm porcelain plate on the floor. It annoyed him that she was taking her sweet time to answer, but stood outside her door patiently. He heard the ruffling of the sheets before she finally answered, her voice barely audible. “Okayyy…”

He opened the door to find her lying face down on her bed.

“Ellie…”

“I don’t want to be yelled at.”

He took a deep breath. “No yelling,” he agreed. Was this bad parenting? Was he supposed to yell? His mother would have kicked his butt for swearing the way she did. He didn’t have the energy for butt kicking and she would not be receptive to any rule that was enforced that way.

He put the plate down on her side-table and took a seat on the armchair he’d made for the living room that mysteriously walked up the stairs and into her room one day. She did not ask for permission to move it, didn’t even care that it would be too heavy for her to safely carry. But his heart warmed to know that she liked something he made.

He would begin by letting her know that he understood where she was coming from. Then he would bring up his justification. It should work, right?

“It must be…I… I understand. It’s a very different way of life and everything is new for you. It will take you time to adjust, I think. And umm…it can be annoying to have new rules about every single thing.”

She snorted.

“And I also get that you will want to be yourself at home.”

“But?” She asked, finally turning her head away from the pillow and looking at him. Her eyes narrowed at him and her lips were pursed. He wanted to lie, say everything was alright just to make her feel good again.

“I just wanted to break the habit of swearing. It might slip when you’re outside the house and your teachers wouldn’t be happy with that. You just need to get into the practice of speaking differently based on where you are. Formal and respectful with your teachers and more casual with your friends. Respectful to strangers too. That is hard to do, to let your guard down around new people.”

He didn’t have to explain why. She knew exactly what he was talking about. He wasn’t immune to it either. He approached people with hostility, afraid they were there to fight him or hurt Ellie. It was proving nearly impossible to get over.

“I just want you to fit in,” he continued when she didn’t argue his points.

“Why? I don’t want to be like those dickheads who don’t even know how to shoot a gun. I will never be the girl who is worried about what sweater to wear with what jeans and get nervous asking some stupid boy out for the spring dance. It’s dumb.”

He slouched in the chair, making himself smaller, feeling smaller. He had no problems with the patrols, no problems with shooting down the infected that stumbled into their radius. But this? This made him shrivel up.

“Fitting in is important. It can mean the difference between survival and…” he trailed off, struggling to explain social exclusion. He never had to explain to Sarah why she should hang out with the Alders and put up with Mrs. Adler’s preaching. A girl who had to survive all that shit might not even take this seriously.

“You need to make a good impression. Make sure people like you. Make friends. You need people.”

“I have people, Joel. I have you. Don’t need these losers.”

“I’m not always going to be here,” he said, regretting it immediately as he saw the fear in her eyes. Neither had to say it out loud, but he knew they were both thinking of the times she had to save his life. “Like…in school,” he quickly corrected. “I’m not with you everywhere you go. You need to learn to do this on your own, find more people.”

“Is that why you stay cooped up in this house and don’t leave unless Tommy or I drag you out or you have patrol duty?”

Rude. Perhaps she needed to be grounded.

“And you want to be like me? No friends, cooped up in the house, only a— as you always say, grumpy old man— to hang out with? That’s just lame, kid.”

Before she could retort, he rose from his seat. “Eat that,” he said, pointing to her plate of rice before leaving her to mull over his words in the privacy of her room. If rationality didn’t do the trick, the reminder of how pathetic it was to hang out with someone kids saw as a fucking fossil might.

————

Her

“Miller.”

He grunted that old man grunt and stepped ahead, taking the writing pad from her and scribbling his signature on the sheet under today’s date. She took the pencil back from him quickly, placing it back on the pen stand from which one too many pens and pencils had gone missing. People hadn’t left behind the habit of stealing stationery even after the apocalypse.

Rifles slung over their shoulders, they walked side by side. His condition was much improved compared to the day he came back to Jackson with his kid in tow. But he still walked slowly, his gait betraying whatever injuries he had incurred on his journey to Jackson, on his journey the past 20 years. Despite it all, he still appeared strong and powerful in a way that made everyone understand how he had survived everything without the protection of a community.

He hadn’t spoken to her much, thank goodness. He would show up at her door for medicines and checkups for his reluctant kid who dragged him in for his own treatments. She didn’t talk to him much then, the girl did the talking for him whether or not he wanted it. The girl was annoying unlike her father, asking questions she shouldn't ask a little too easily. Like she was merely asking what day of the week it was. Thankfully, he was always there to correct his daughter and apologize to her before she continued treating them.

She kept her eyes on the route, holding the oil lamp in her hand as they looked for potential danger. She was alert, wide awake, despite the sleeplessness and the amount of alcohol she’d had at family dinner. Her feet took her along the familiar path, the couple thousand nights of patrolling etched into her muscles in a way that she was sure she would circle this path even if she became infected.

He was an altogether different story. He was alert, yes. But it was excessive. His gun always pointed to shoot, his backpack loaded with more ammo than anyone else on patrols, his eyes wild and desperate like he had something precious to protect. He flinched at every noise, pointed his gun at rabbits who minded their own business and trembled as he lowered his gun before holding it up again when there was another noise. She couldn’t say she didn’t recognize the behavior. He did have a lot more to protect unlike her.

He had a bigger family— a brother, sister-in-law and soon a nephew or niece. And there was his daughter of course. Maybe he had a wife at some point. Maybe he lost her to this world like they all lost someone. Maybe she was what made him so rigid, so untrusting, so silent. She pictured him, younger with dark hair and clear skin, eyes as dark as they were now as the time this hypothetical wife was taken from him. There was a tinge of shame in his eyes, the very shame he saw him carry as his teenager complained to her about him skipping medicines and working too much in her home turned clinic. The very shame she caught just then as he pointed his gun at a housecat that had wandered out a little too far.

“You shoot that cat and her 5 year old will make you wish you were never born,” she remarked, cursing herself as soon as she said it. He already looked like he wished he was never born. She didn’t want to make him sadder and more pathetic than he already appeared to be.

To her surprise, he chuckled. “That’s one way to get kicked out of Jackson.”

He wouldn’t be expelled over a cat. He’d have to apologize profusely to the little boy for killing his cat and make up for it in some way. But he wouldn’t be kicked out. But she could understand the anxiety. Even after becoming a permanent member of this place, she was afraid she might make a mistake that would force them to throw her out.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to lose our wonderful contractor,” she joked instead.

“You’ll still have Tommy.”

“Yeah, but Tommy needs his assistant,” she quipped, knowing very well that the older Miller was the leader among the two. “Someone to stand by and hand him things.”

He simply smiled, deepening the lines on his face.

“How long have you been here?” He asked, surprising her. He never asked her personal questions, only questions related to their patrol. There were the empty pleasantries when he showed up at her door for treatment of course, but they didn’t count.

“The whole time. Born in Wyoming. I lived in Baltimore for a while for medical school. Then I moved to DC for my husband’s job. But, I made my way back here after it started. I was hoping to find my parents, but… Well, you know that goes. What about you?” She asked, knowing that he was from Texas. But anything she didn’t already know about him was too complex, too private.

“Texas. Grew up in Arlington, moved to Austin. Went to many places after the outbreak but I was in Boston until I came here.”

“That’s a long way to travel, especially with a kid. Must have been hell.” A hell that I know too well, she thought but didn’t voice. None of her business. Maybe his journey was like hers. Maybe the darkness in his eyes, like her own, was from the unspeakable things parents did to protect their children. She didn’t need to know the specifics to recognize it.

Silence once again filled the space between them and her shoulders slumped in relief. It was emotionally draining to keep up a conversation that wasn’t about someone's health, medicines or diet. Even more so to have conversations after the sun went down and darkness enveloped not just the night sky but her mind.

“You’re a doctor.”

“Yeah, Miller. Want something checked out?” It was the first thing people wanted from her. It wasn’t too different from random uncles and cousins showing her their weird mole and asking for medical advice at the Thanksgiving table. It was annoying and remained annoying, but she understood that people had to ask now.

“What kind of doctor?”

“Back then? Cardiothoracic surgeon— so like, heart lungs and everything in the chest area. Now, fucking everything except dermatology. So I can help with anything except if you want tret for that face.”

“You a shrink too?”

She couldn’t even deal with her own goddamn problems. What made this man think she could listen to others’? It was nice that he bothered to ask. Others did not. When she put stethoscopes on hearts and listened for issues, people took it as permission to vent about every single worry. Nightmares, pain, relationship problems, fucking everything.

“I don’t know. You don’t seem the type to go to a shrink.”

“It’s not for me.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not. I know too little about the human mind. I did a few psychiatry rounds back in med school, but that was all. But people talk to me all the time. I…” she sighed and leaned on a nearby fence. It was a painful admission, but she would say it if it would help this man and his little girl. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that he was a parent and parents would do fucking anything for their kid.

“I know this ain’t your job. And I don’t need to see your fucking graduation certificate or know how many mental patients you had. All I know is that when my wife died, my daughter spoke to a therapist and she became better. Can you do that for Ellie? Just talk to her. I know you don’t take payments for seeing patients, but I’ll pay. I have connections. Anything you want from outside, I’ll go get it. Oxy, hydro, you name it.”

He wasn’t like the others in Jackson. While the people in Jackson lived, he survived. He was from out there where everything had a price. Even a life. She knew how to work with that. She’d talk to his kid, help her out in whatever way she wanted and ask him for a favour in return. There was a simplicity to it that the people of Jackson did not understand. They did not trade within. They simply did shit out of what seemed like the goodness of their stupid hearts. All that did was keep her in their debt forever. With this man, there would be a clear payment and no guilt.

“I have oxy, better than anything you can get. I have suppliers I trust. We can even treat diabetes here. Can get glasses too. If you’re offering to trade, offer something better.”

“What do you want?”

A house.

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something,” she lied. It was hard to ask. Hard to open her mouth and say she wanted something. “But you don’t need to make Ellie wait until then. She can talk to me about anything that’s bothering her when she feels ready. Talking is good. It’s like throwing your shit into a void. So if your daughter needs a void…”

He nodded and the deal was struck.

[straightplayshowdown]

Doctor Faustus: Yearning for infinite knowledge and questioning his faith, Doctor Faustus forsakes his scholarly studies for the world of magic and sorcery. He makes a pact with the devil. If the evil spirit, Mephastophilis, will serve him for 24 years, Faustus will bequeath the devil his soul after his death and spend eternity damned in hell. Despite warnings from colleagues, Faustus is blind to the terrifying extent of his actions until it is too late. Going on a journey with Mephastophilis and displaying his magic to a host of influential and important figures, Faustus finally realizes that he has come to the end of his allotted time on earth and learnt nothing.

The Importance of Being Earnest: Two bachelors, John ‘Jack’ Worthing and Algernon ‘Algy’ Moncrieff, create alter egos named Ernest to escape their tiresome lives. They attempt to win the hearts of two women who, conveniently, claim to only love men called Ernest. The pair struggle to keep up with their own stories and become tangled in a tale of deception, disguise and misadventure.

Propaganda under the cut!

Doctor Faustus:

Gay as hell (I wrote a 30 page senior thesis on this), beautiful writing, great if you're going through some shit and have christian guilt, then you can kin Faustus really hard

funny and also a great look at christianity and damnation. also faustus is gay for a demon 

It's about Christianity and damnation where Faustus is bored of academia because he's too smart so he sells his soul to the devil for magic. Then, he pranks the pope and is gay for his demon attendant. 

God this play is so good. A scholar, who's learned all he could of earthly things, sells his soul to the devil for magic. It's about sin, damnation, predestination. Is Faustus damned or is he damning himself? God it’s so good. Going to list some of my favorite lines now bc the writing is just so <33 

When Faustus asks the demon Mephastophilis how he can be here on earth when he's damned to hell, he says "Why this is hell, nor am I out of it. / Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, / And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, / Am not tormented with ten thousand hells / In being deprived of everlasting bliss?" which is just so true. Like god that conception of hell is so. Like yeah. Of course anywhere other than heaven would be hell when one has experienced heaven. God.

So many lines from Faustus questioning his choice and wondering if he should repent and if he were to repent would God even forgive him like "Why waverest thou? O, something soundeth in mine ears: 'Abjure this magic, turn to God again.' / Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again. / To God? He loves thee not: / Thou God thy servest is thine own appetite." Like the “To God? He loves thee not” gets me every fucking time bc he is SO convinced that he’s damned, he’s SO convinced that there’s no hope for him and that God does not love him. Like. And "Whither should I fly? / If unto God, he'll throw me down to hell.” Again, he’s absolutely convinced that there’s no hope for him. Even if he wants to repent, it doesn’t matter; God will turn him away. And "What art thou Faustus, but a man condemned to die?" And, god one of my favorite Faustus being convinced of his own damnation lines, "But Faustus' offense can ne'er be pardoned! The serpent / that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus." Even the SERPENT THAT TEMPTED EVE may be saved, but not Faustus. Like?? He’s so convinced of his own damnation that he believes that even if the literal serpent who caused the fall of humans could be saved, he would still be damned. Like god. Also, this whole spiel after another scholar is like call on God and repent to which Faustus goes, “On God, whom Faustus hath abjured? On God / whom Faustus hath blasphemed? Ah, my God—I would weep, but the devil draws in my tears! Gush forth blood, instead of tears—yea, / life and soul! O, he stays my tongue! I would lift my hands, but / see, they hold them, they hold them!” Like god. He would weep but the devil draws in his tears and he is weeping blood instead. He would raise up his hands to heaven but he is being held down. And like the beginning. The “who am I to call on God? God whom I have abjured and renounced? God who I have cursed and blasphemed? Who am I to call on him? Would he even answer if I did? If I could?” Like god. It’s so.

And finally, my fucking absolute favorite lines in the entirety of the play, which technically fall under the Faustus repenting category, but deserve their own number bc I love this part so much. Background: These are lines said by Faustus in his final monologue, a monologue that really starkly resembles Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. It is Faustus, minutes before the devils come to take his soul, pleading to God for the last time to have mercy on him. He says (bear with me this is long) “The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, / The devil will come, and Faustus must be damned. / O I’ll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down? / See, see where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament! / One drop would save my soul, half a drop; ah my Christ— / Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ; / Yet will I call on him—O spare me, Lucifer! / Where is it now? ‘Tis gone: and see where God bends his ireful brows! / Mountains and hills, come, come and fall on me, / And hide me from the heavy wrath of God. / No, no? / Then I will run headlong into the earth: / Earth, gape! O no, it will not harbor me.” So what’s happening here? Faustus is watching the time tick by before the devil comes to take him. He is trying to leap up to God, to repent, but he can’t; there’s someone pulling him down. Is it the devil? Is it himself? Who knows. Then, he sees Christ’s blood in the sky. He’s begging for it. For not even one drop, just half a drop; if he could just have half a drop perhaps he could be saved. That line btw, while it is only in the A text of Doctor Faustus (there’s two versions of the play, the A text and B text), is often still included in the B text editions bc it’s just that fucking good. Anyway. He pleads to Christ, something he is not allowed to do under his contract with Lucifer; he is not allowed to call upon God or Jesus or say any holy names. So when he calls upon Christ, he knows what Lucifer could do to him for it, but calls on him anyway, begging Lucifer to spare him. But once he invokes Lucifer’s name, the blood in the sky disappears. Instead, now all he sees is God’s ireful brows. So, he tries to take shelter from God in the earth, but not even the Earth will harbor him. It’s just so. Like god. And finally, at the end of his monologue, right before the devils enter to drag him to hell, Faustus cries, “My God, my God, look not so fierce on me!” a line which is just so. A blatant blasphemy of “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” this line is everything to me. Like god. It’s just so. God. 

Anyway, Doctor Faustus is fucking amazing and these aren’t even all my favorite lines, I have so many more and there’s so much more I love about this play, but this is already long enough. It’s just so good. It’s a meditation on predestination and damnation, it’s blasphemous, it’s wonderful. The writing is so good. I just love it so much.

The Importance of Being Earnest: 

Queercoded love interest and Victorian dandies, what’s not to love? 

Quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever read.

It's very funny.

there is a HANDBAG and it is a MAJOR PLOT POINT. jack pretends to be ernest because he's been doing it for ages and why not am i right? algernon pretends to be ernest to get a girl and also so screw stuff up. as one does. gwendolen and cecily have a REALLY passive aggressive tea party. this play slaps. it is so good. go read it and/or see it

“Nothing will induce me to part with Bunbury, and if you ever get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will be very glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.” 

Lady Bracknell: “I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever. If it did, it would prove a serious danger to the upper classes, and probably lead to acts of violence in Grosvenor Square.”

Lady Bracknell: “My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality.”

Jack: “On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I’ve now realized for the first time in my life the vital Importance of Being Earnest.”

[w-i-l-d-f-l-0-w-e-r]

I hope that nothing bad happens this time.

(I don’t even want to write this because I don’t want to breathe bad energy into the air. I’m too tired to write in my physical book and I’m not going to be a psycho on social media where people know me.)

Okay so anyways — I genuinely am so excited for all the things to actually happen…

But last time, you promised. You promised that you wanted me. You promised that we would have each other. You might not have that recollection because you deleted our texts every night 😞 God — I spent so much time on the fucking phone with you. Distracted from the things right in front of me.

And then all of a sudden, i was alone. And confused ;; for so fucking long.

But there was always some comfort in knowing that whenever it got to be too much, I could at least reach out if I really had to — I could at least text you or call you —when I was feeling especially shitty over it all…. Or if I really needed you in general.

But I never did (kind of proud of myself on that one because it crossed my mind a lot).

And then six months later I found out I was straight blocked the whole time. Fuck idk, such a slap in the face. Especially because. I never reached out — I wanted to. But I didn’t. God I’m glad I didn’t because I would’ve felt like such a lame POS 😭

I realized while I was typing that out that I’ve been here before. I’ve written similar words before. I’ve ignored what people call “red flags” before — for the sake of loving someone SO fucking much. And hoping & convincing myself that they would eventually love me the same way.

“Not now, but in the future”.

I started this spiel being a little salty, even though our conversation ended on a more-than-good note.

I’m just terrified because I can’t control my heart. And you’ll follow your brain wherever it goes.

I love you forever anyways.

(I hope the universe proves to me that I’m not the dumbest fucking fuck on the planet)

[blubushie]

How did you get into Tf2

and when did you start writing in general (like I don’t mean literally) ?

Morning Vykko!

How did you get into TF2?

I've always been aware of it and have seen memes and shit (come on I'm a gamer of course I knew TF2 was a thing) but I never actually got into it until I went bush. My first month I lose a tyre so I cross the Paroo-Darling on a fucking spare and end up going to Sydney because there's a branch of the company I bought Matilda from there and they'll cover any replacements within 3 months of purchase. While I'm there and they're replacing my tyre and doing a free rotate (because Matilda is old) I decide to get rinsed so I ask around the locals (I am NOT from Sydney) and they tell me to go to Scruffy Murphy's of all places (having a lend of the tourist) so I go there without knowing that it was a total dive. I'm not here for a Scruffy Murphy's review but it was one of those pubs that's so bad you'd go back because it really lends to that 60s-70s roughhouse dive aesthetic.

I saw a pubfight break out, it was great. Outside of one pub in California (to which I arrived only at the very end) this was my first witness to a pubfight. I'm sitting there drinking an old fashioned and watching the chaos. At one point a bloke called me a seppo which is the first time I've ever been called that to my face. I threw a peanut at him.

Anyway I get there and I'm eating my too-cooked steak (I like mine rare, no drama, rather them serve overcooked food than undercooked food and I was starving so I'm not complaining) and this licked twink waltzes up to me, introduces himself as Lozza "and don't call me Laurence," and starts trying to chat me up. He's yabbering away and I'm just kinda nodding along because I don't know how to tell someone to piss off apparently. He ends up buying me another old fashioned, I feel bad so then it's my shout and I get him a screwdriver, we go back and forth and four cocktails later I'm feeling enough to actually start talking so when he asks me for my life story I indulge him.

And this nerdy little cunt goes, "So your parents don't like what you do for work, huh?"

To which I say "No," because it's true, and after this I'd learnt that if you clink your glass on the counter or table usually it's a cue to fuck off. I didn't know this at the time obviously or I definitely would've used it.

"And you got some issues with feeling true blue, huh?"

He's starting to do that thing where people pick apart your brain. I can tell by the way he's looking at me because he's giving me that therapist look that only therapists give you. "I'm an Aussie," I told him, with no hint of an Australian accent, "It's just that other people don't always think I'm an Aussie."

"And you live in a van, huh?" I probably shouldn't have told him about the van part because now I'm getting nervous. It's setting off alarm bells. I'm much more careful these days.

"I--yeah, now I do."

"You play video games, mate?" Oh God. Oh shit. Do I tell him I used to be addicted and that for a good two or three years as a teen I was basically living just to play video games because I had nothing else to stick around for? Bugger me.

"I, uh--I used to play a lot of Halo--"

"YOU EVER HEAR OF TF2?"

And this cunt goes on an hour-long spiel about the lore and who everyone is and we ended the night with him showing me the Meet the Team videos, and he's telling me, "Mate, mate, listen mate," he says mate a lot more when he's drunk, "You're like Sniper mate, you're just like Sniper."

And at first I was like "Get fucked, that's dumb."

Anyway a year later I'm on YouTube watching some video about different skinning methods for pigs (I usually use a rack but sometimes I'm out in the bush without a rack, I'm getting off track) and in my recommendations I see Meet the Scout and think "Fuck it" and watch that. I watch all of them (immediately like Sniper because we're very much the same. I also maintain a mantra of polite, professional, James Mattis) and then I find out there's comics so I go down a rabbit hole of reading all of those in one night and the autism hyperfixation has done the rest.

Unfortunately Lozza will probably never read the fic because he ships SniperSpy and not SniperScout but this one's for you mate, you carpal tunnel-inducing bastard.

When did you start writing in general?

I've always loved telling stories but I first started writing as a hobby when I was around 12 and I was terrible. It was personal short stories and no one knew I did it except for my English teacher through writing assignments. At 16 I hit a major roadblock called life and I stopped writing for a few years. In that time the most I did was journaling for my own sanity. TF2 is what brought me back and made me remember my love of writing (coincidentally this is also why the first 4 chapters of the fic are terrible, because I wrote them two years ago then stopped writing for a year and then returned with a vengeance in chapter 5 with a mantra of "No wukkas to word count, write for yourself and not for your reader.")

[sowthetide]

GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS this is teainabowl AND IM BACK WITH MORE NONSENSE AS PROMISED. family crisis almost averted?? i havent slept in 2 days but lmao who cares. (you cant see me rn but i want you to know that im doing a happy little jump skip dance as im writing this)

BECAUSE!!!!! ok. lets talk about genderbending in fandom. i think what usually gives me the ick in those fics is they do nature vs nurture wrong??? like a lot of the time they’ll just change the NATURE of the character and use the different gender as an excuse which. idk idk it runs me the wrong way. BUT QUENN!!! shes very much still theon?? just, nurtured differently. am i making sense? i have been traumatized by some bio-essentialism bs in the past when trying to look into similar fics bc i love gender fuckery PEOPLE JUST DONT GET IT LIKE I DO (or you, appearantly hkdhhfjh i love your story it means so much to me) 

and asoiaf is SUCH a gendered world??? like it has so much untapped potential where even a single characters gender can have SO MUCH IMPACT (can you imagine if joffrey had been a girl?? or if sansa had been a boy???) 

but what originally started my spiel was the realization that jon wouldnt have gone to the nights watch if he was a girl. and. what then?? slightly horrifying tbh, and makes me wonder if one of the other character had been male (read; they had been given more agency and autonomy in their lives) what would have changed???

but back to jon, bc then i immediately thought, ok, lets backtrack a bit, who would jon even BE. bc a lot of jons character revolves around his (lack of) a relationship with catelyn, his siblings mother. but she would have a harder time avoiding him if he was a she, right?? am i making sense???? a girl isnt seen like as much of a threat to her children i thinks?? idk i love cat and jon so much a love picking apart their relationship bc bc bc ARGHhhgg yk? also i like to think of ned being haunted by lyannas carbon copy who happens to be great with swords (would he be permitted to practice swordplay??) idk

ANYWAYS no we come to the part where i tie it up to what you mentioned in your answer. bc as much as JON being a girl might change his relationship with cat, it would be much more fucked up if it were robb, me thinks. (i too am a bit guilty of using robb as an accessory to cat) but but but. are. are you seeing my vision. catelyn stark with her three daughters when ned leaves for the greyjoy rebellion. catelyn whos convinced that the reason her husband wont send his bastard away is because she cant give him any sons. in the books she calls bran her special little boy and. idk the double meaning this would give it. and bran!!! being the heir!!! hiw would that change things??? would the reception to his accident be different?? and speaking of, what about king robert and his obsession with joining his family with neds? i havent talked about how robb (robyn?) would be different in this au but i cant think hed be as pleased as sansa was? his first shown interaction with joff is him trying to curb stomp the fucker lmao. i dont think he would be likely to have a different opinion bc of gender changes. in the books hes often rash and impulsive and prideful, and id want him to keep those traits, but peoples reactions to them would be different?? and so he would shape them in different ways??? am i making sense i feel like im just rambling. this is getting way too long and wayy to incoherent i need to stop. ok bye for now ill be back (threatening)

GO TO BED!!!! GET SOME SLEEP!!!!! But yay! to family crisis averted? Maybe?

Okay. I'm gonna indulge in some haterism for a second cause I've actually poked around the ASOIAF genderbending tag quite a bit. Unfortunately, a lot of those fics? Lame as hell. There's a preponderance of genderbent Jon Snow, which I think is totally cool! Very interesting genderbend to explore because of how much it changes the trajectory of his story. But then the character isn't really written as Jon at all? Maybe I'm just picky about characterization, but oftentimes fem!Jon just becomes this cookie-cutter "strong/feisty" female protag and it's like...

Sorry. I'm being mean. Obviously, there is no singular "correct" take on a given character, as we're all influenced by our own experiences and perceptions. My take on Theon isn't the exact same as yours, or goddcoward's, or Ashen's, or GRRM's. A unique Theon exists in all our heads, each one a bit different from the others.

But! Genderbends are so much more fun when you can see the underpinnings of the character you know, and there are moments where those aspects really shine through. And it's like OH!!! (pointing vigorously) THERE THEY ARE!!!! Otherwise, why not just write an OC, or adopt a minor character with very little canon characterization? (Admittedly, this can become a problem when you start collecting minor characters like Pokemon cards. I am my own evidence of this phenomenon.) If it ain't Jon, then why have it be Jon at all, y'know?

ngl female Joffrey has been rattling around in my brain lately... 👀fem!Joffrey would definitely be betrothed to Robb, which would be a complete and utter shitshow (appreciative/affectionate). Joffrey as a true mini-Cersei has such insane juice to it as a story idea, especially considering that Joffrey never liked Cersei all that much lol... the mother-daughter dynamic would be BONKERS.

Back to Jon though:

First, you're definitely right that fem!Jon wouldn't be seen as much of a threat to her siblings as Jon was. She would probably be married off pretty quickly once she came of age, as high as possible for a woman who was bastard-born. I don't see Catelyn liking her per se, but Catelyn wouldn't have the same misgivings about her as she did about Jon. Since fem!Jon probably wouldn't become the vessel of the wildling/Others plot, she might have an interesting role to play if she went south... to marry Robert's royal bastard Edric Storm, perhaps? I could see Robert "having his Lyanna" by marrying fem!Jon and Edric. But then shit hits the fan with the usual plot of AGOT, and maybe fem!Jon gets taken hostage by the Lannisters in King's Landing? Or gets caught in Renly's shit since she was with Edric at Storm's End? I am NAWTTTT talking myself into writing another fic. Go to hell. I need to finish Sow the Tide first.

fem!Robb (Robyn between myself and goddcoward) is even crazier. Catelyn would NOT be fucking happy to have Ned's spitting image hanging around Winterfell, while all her sons are under 10 and have the Tully look. I could see Catelyn successfully arguing that Jon should be fostered out, perhaps in the Vale (as a favor on the part of Jon Arryn)? Like, oh, Ned, you and Robert became such good friends fostering together in the Vale... that way, Jon is waythefuckoverthere and can't make any allies in the north.

I'd love for Robyn to have some of the same anger and pride, and she'd probably be similar to Catelyn in that she was raised as the heir for a good bit of time before the "real" heir came along years later (Bran+Edmure). Also, Catelyn would absolutely NOT trust Theon around Robyn. Not At All. Kinda fair though? Robyn would also be older than Sansa was in AGOT, so I think she'd be at least a little bit more worldly and pick up on Joffrey's... Joffreyness. Robb/Robyn are still dutiful characters, but I think there would be a lot more immediate friction between her and her betrothed. Double genderbend Throbb is my true love, however (Quobyn my beloved).

I've gotta finally go work on chapter 40 now, so I can't answer everything, but do come back... I'll be here... revolving all of these genderbends around in my head...

[samtrapani]

i'm trying to think how an au where faustin is spared would actually go...obviously i'm missing context cause i've only progressed that storyline as far as dimitri's betrayal and that one point where he calls you to tell you he's gonna track you down and kill you, but anyway. i'm assuming this goes as normal till niko gets him up on the roof, and mikhail does his whole spiel and then says the thing about how he's got nowhere to go now (which kinda broke my heart, tbh). he looks very tired. niko asks him what was that he said about dimitri wanting him dead for killing vlad, and mikhail tells him, makes a bitter joke about how dimitri's so obsessed with playing by the rules he can't see the real value of relationships. niko lowers the gun. says to get the hell out of hove beach, he's a wanted man. for once, mikhail sees reason, and he does. for now.

i figure for niko it goes roughly the same–he calls and tells dimitri he "took care of things" without being too specific. even if he figures out before the warehouse that niko lied, dimitri doesn't say anything, just tells him to collect his pay. jacob calls, and niko has a different version of events to tell him this time, plus an even stronger reason to believe he's being set up...but, niko being niko, he goes anyway. the shootout happens. the apartment burning happens. he and roman get the fuck out of broker.

and then, well. i imagine it would be tense at first. niko did kill a lot of mikhail's guys. but a day or so after getting situated in bohan, he gets a call. mikhail's got a new safehouse. come talk to him. they've both fallen far, and there's a long climb ahead for both of them. and a backstabbing little motherfucker to kill.

harry you need to write the fic oh my god i am. squealing and kicking my legs rn

mikhail being lucky to be alive. on the radio, reports of mysterious explosions happening around the city. (not just the apartment and the cab depot, but faustin's house, the club, etc.)

mikhail, tired, staring at niko with the same dead eyes niko thinks he sees in the mirror every morning. had there always been that much grey in his hair? niko thinks, there is something in the way they've been bred that's much alike.

niko, getting that call, not quite sure if he should actually go or not because he's suffered so much loss this far, but he's spared faustin, so why not? the man clearly has had most of his ranks depleted and is also starting from almost scratch so he goes.

i like to think. maybe then. niko coming into the new safehouse and seeing the teapot, perhaps the last thing mikhail could've pulled from the fire. mikhail offering him a drink. to old allies and new enemies and unexpected friendships. it's a good tea, strong, bitter. it's time to get to work :)

[prettyboykatsuki]

So, guess who just finished reading won’t you lend me your faith, the shoujo manga fic for Rin. It’s me. I have much to say. I said I was gonna wait till the morning but I’m impatient and want you to know I absolutely loved and adored this fic.

I. Am. In love. With the reader. She’s literally so cute and I don’t know if it’s cause you wrote it in Rin’s pov but I fell in love with her?? She’s so endearing and I love her and I’d give the world for her oh my god. Her personality is so dorky and loud and loving and kind yet she’s so mature and caring for others and so incredibly sincere I would marry her if I had the chance. 

I will say reader made me cry I fucking love her so much. The birthday scene where she set it up and she had on the silly party hat and she just had her hands up presenting what she set up? That’s what made me cry, oh my god it was just so sweet I couldn’t handle it anymore. The entire build up of Rin’s birthday up to that moment just made me feel all soft and warm and mushy, reader is so sweet for making Rin’s birthday special and treating him on it. 

I do not know how to succinctly tell you that you wrote an incredible reader who took my heart and I literally fell in love with her and she made me cry and throughout the whole read I put down my phone multiple times to roll around in my bed and smile over her. She’s literally the love of my life I’d do anything for her and marry her if I had the chance.

OH. The scene where Rin realized he was in love? So still the birthday scene, I just think that was written incredibly well and the buildup of all of Rin’s emotions to that point throughout the whole fic was really well paced out and presented, BUT. When he was like “if she confesses I can’t lie to her?” His whole spiel? I was losing my mind.

I think they are the epitome of “fell first and fell harder”. Cause Rin once he realizes he not only likes her, but loves her and says he’s been grappling with it for only a little bit but it’s ripping him at the seams? And him causing that scene at school cause he’s irritated that he doesn’t see his girlfriend enough at school and can’t take it anymore? Yeah. yeah. 

I’m so sorry, I’m hung up on the reader. I genuinely can not put into words how much I love her. Her sniffling and crying because she’s worried about the fact that she’s not going to see Rin? It’s so human and she’s so worried and I want to comfort her, I adore her beyond words. She is just so full of love and she’s so verbal with it and she communicates and it’s refreshing and Rin needs someone like that for sure but god I LOVE her. 

I understand why in the writing process you kept saying you loved this reader. I get it, she’s so well written I adore her. Genuinely this is one of, if not the only, x reader I’ve read where the reader has such a refreshing, unique personality where it just made me love her so quickly. Like, I’m genuinely infatuated with her, I can’t describe it. 

Okay, gonna try and focus on Rin now, sorry, I just love her so much. BUT RIN. I think you characterized him so well, incredibly so. Like, the build up, all of it, the fact it took nearly a year for Rin to be comfortable enough and secure enough to recognize that he liked her and was in love with her, that feels correct for Rin, you know? I think the detail of him just kinda seeing her as an amorphous blob also makes sense? He really is not the type to care for looks. He’s so demisexual coded to me, but anyways. But I also think you got how awkward and somewhat uncomfortable he gets in social situations too, I feel like you nailed it. Like how he doesn’t like socializing with classmates so reader was the shield, how awkward he was feeling when talking to reader’s older brother, how irritated he was at those classmates at the end. 

But also his complicated emotions towards Sae; how he’s pretty sure his brother loves him now, but how he’s still not over or hasn’t fully come to terms or processed what Sae did to him in the past. I liked how you went over his morning routine where he legitimately thinks about his past with Sae, but I like how you detailed it as part of his meditation. Part of unraveling his heart and examining it. Wondering if it’ll always be this melancholic blue. Then followed by reader birthday breakfast, yippee. But double also, how the first time at the park where he was talking about how he feels towards Sae to her and how she says she wants to hug him and he lets her. That was sooooo. He needed that for real, I’m glad he indulged in that and hugged her back. 

I love small details. I love that they played resident evil and how acutely aware Rin was of her presence before she started playing with his hair (I melted at that by the way, peak affection), how they talked about Ciguatera and how she poked at him for being such a boy and how he really is just a boy, reading a raunchy comic that’s still ultimately about romance, about how Rin was glad he went with her to get stationary because he had to glare at too many creeps, at how annoyed Rin was at the fact she regularly kept contact with his mom. OH, when Rin noticed that she wears a heart necklace under her uniform when they were cleaning the classroom. How all he could say was that she wasn’t in uniform and it’s all he was thinking when he took her to the mall to get stationary. I loved the fact that she would stomp her feet sometimes, like when Rin’s parents found them sleeping together and snapped a picture, how she kicked her feet. You always give the people you’re writing about very human traits or things they do and it just makes the read so easy and real, idk how to word it. 

It’s all of these little scenes, these little details that just make your fic feel so alive and so tangible and just so perfectly here. I don’t know how to describe it, but everything adds up to be a beautifully written and executed shoujo manga type beat fic that I was so excited for and finally had the time to read. 

But thank you for the food, incredible as usually, the buildup was perfect and I thought I was only going to tear up over the reader but her sincerity and genuine love made me actually cry at the birthday scene. I am a sap and a sucker for cute romance first. This is a long ass ask I’m so sorry ahdjsgdj

I feel like I said a lot of nothing, but TLDR: I’m so glad I read this, I love (LOVE) the reader, I loved watching Rin fall in love it was so wholesome, I love shoujo manga and the epilogue is cute (he’s so silly being petty).

sorry . it has been at least 3 days since ive recieved this ask and i simply wanted to give it the proper time and care when answering because it really made me blush and scream and cry so i apologize for the delay. i have a little time now so i hope this response is adequate enough to express my gratitude.

the main gist of this ask that im like. so absolutely delighted by is indeed your love for reader because (and i said this while writing as well) but reader is my absolute favorite character in the entire fic. i know it's supposed to be rin, and i do enjoy writing rin - but i think reader was the best part of writing this for me. i was honestly very nervous that people might find her too quirky and try-hard rather than endearing and uplifiting and lovely but i simply fell for her very hard in the process.

i have a tendency to write readers who are a little more callous along the edges so it as very refreshing and i think that kind of character is like. SO perfect for rin. you are absolutely right about "fell first but he fell harder" trope being them!! that was really the point of it all for me. she is so loving and so human and so kind.

and rin as a character is someone who has an almost monstorous view of himself. his self loathing just runs so deep and so hard that it was almost painfully sad writing some parts. IM REALLY GLAD MY DEMISEXUAL CODING OF HIM WAS PRESENT SDJKSSDKJ. like im genuinely glad it was picked up on bc it was so super intentional. esp w the part where he finds reader attractive but cant understand it.

WAAAAHHH HEARING YOU PICK UP ON ALL THESE LITTLE DETAILS MAKES ME WANT TO SOB AND SCREAM AND CRY. IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY. idk how to explain it but knowing that my words have reached u enough to rmb them like that just makes me so emotional. idk how to explain it....like its!! you know!! you know of me!!!! you know the things i wrote!! and memorized and enjoyed them even!!!! it makes me so indescribably happy that these little details like. resonated with you.

for rin in particular - i do not think he thinks very highly of very showy, very passionate love like he sees in movies. up until he meets reader he considers a lot of that bullshit because its so fake. but his lover for reader is truly just an amalgam of these little tiny moments where reader looked at him and saw him for exactly who and what he is. whether that be about sae or rins hatred for socializing. ultimately reader is a character who loves him wholly and unconditionally.

but rin doesn't learn that through her words, but her actions. she is kind and gentle and silly and honest and he needs her more than anything. i really have such a deep love for them, writing their story made me so emotional and i am so so so glad other people felt similiarly. im so glad the story resonated but this one esp bc i LOVE these two and would love to write more in their universe sometime.

ANYWAYS, thank u for this ask. thank u for the length. i weeped so much the day i read it and have thought about it every day since. im so exceedingly grateful. i cannot express it enough. THANK U SO KINDLY