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from-the-clouds · 2 years ago

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bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much.

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction.

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time.

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.”

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway.

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness.

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit.

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care.

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time.

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way.

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to.

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with.

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast.

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder.

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened.

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen.

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin.

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder.

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen.

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs.

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes.

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t.

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower.

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering.

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks.

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it.

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous.

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet.

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected.

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time.

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally.

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?”

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement.

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him.

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.”

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts.

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him.

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse.

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces.

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating.

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet.

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that.

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing.

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms.

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it.

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again.

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?”

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.”

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now.

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger.

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now.

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth.

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me��.”

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top.

“That’s it, nice and slow.”

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread.

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again.

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him.

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens.

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows.

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart.

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again.

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange.

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think.

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass.

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks.

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident.

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession.

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips.

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you.

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there.

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected.

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel.

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger.

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little – just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose.

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture.

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously.

“Yes, please, please,”

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often.

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.”

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made.

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life.

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper.

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“No.”

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much.

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t.

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had.

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more.

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this.

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you.

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it.

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap.

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though.

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic.

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response.

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted.

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him.

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head. Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side.

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him.

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?”

“You do.”

“So…. I’ll teach you.”

“....Okay.”

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do.

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart.

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this.

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us writing #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #writing

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coraniaid · 5 months ago

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I'm pretty critical of Buffy's final season (because ... well, I've watched it), but there are some things I think it does well and, since I'm trying to talk myself into working on my S7 AU fic again, I thought it might be worth trying to write down what they are.

I like the sense of completeness there is in going back to some of the show's beginnings. I like seeing Buffy in school again, but this time as an adult with a job. It doesn't just let us re-examine the high school years from a new perspective, it gives Buffy's arc over the last few seasons a nice sense of direction. I like what little we see of Dawn in high school. (I wish there were more episodes like Help.) In principle, I even like the fact that this season's Big Bad is a supernatural threat we've seen on the show before.

While I think there are a lot of problems with the execution (and even with the wider concept) of making the First Evil the primary (frequently the only) antagonist, the First being around does give you a lot of possibilities for having characters literally come face to face with their pasts. I like the final scene of Lessons and I like Conversations With Dead People and I like seeing the Mayor on screen again. I wish the show had done more with this concept.

I like meeting new (Potential) Slayers and finding out more about past Slayers. I like Robin Wood. I like Kennedy. (I wish the show did a better job making the audience care about any of the other Potentials.) I like that Faith comes back. I like that there is a focus on what it means to be a Slayer this season (compare how the show opens, with Buffy taking Dawn on patrol and telling her "it's about power..." [which Dawn doesn't have], to the scene in Chosen where Buffy asks the Potentials "what if you could have that power?").

I also (sorry) really like the fact that the writers resisted the urge to make Dawn a Potential or have her suddenly develop any magical powers as a result of being the Key (which there are at least rumours they were talking about doing). I like that the show stuck with the idea that Dawn is the part of Buffy who gets to be an ordinary girl.

For all its flaws (silly CGI battle against monsters I don't care about which is resolved by a random mcguffin from a different show; weird retcon about Sunnydale apparently being inland; a bunch of other unfortunate writing choices I won't get into here) I really do like Chosen a lot. It feels very fitting that the show ends with Buffy both finally getting to leave Sunnydale and with her no longer having to shoulde the burden of being "the" Slayer (or one of only two Slayers, anyway) anymore. I love how open-ended and hopeful that manages to be.

And speaking of Chosen, I like Buffy's "cookie dough" speech. I like the fact that the show lets Buffy end the series single, and recognizing that she doesn't have to be in a serious romantic relationship if she doesn't feel she's ready for one right now. (I like post-S7 Fuffy as a concept a lot, sure, but I think I prefer it as something that neither of them rushes into.)

I like that Amy comes back? I mean, I don't like anything the season does with her, but still: points for remembering she exists, I guess.

I like the fact that Willow gets to grieve Tara but also move on with her life and start dating again. [I don't know if I would have killed Tara off if I was writing S6 -- I think probably not -- but given that Tara did die I think this is the only good option.]

Empty Places is a good .... name for an episode?

For all my (many, many) issues with Andrew Wells this season (and in particular with just how much Andrew Wells is in this season, which is ... a lot), I think Storyteller is ... pretty good? I liked Jonathan, I think it's sad he dies (and his speech about missing high school now that he's left is another good moment from this season) but I wouldn't really have wanted to have him turn up and help save the day either. Having Andrew kill him (and then have to face up to the fact) feels like the right choice, to me, if you were going to bring either character back [I'm not really sure I would have done that though, to be honest].

Equally, for all my irritation at the time wasted on the "is Giles the First Evil?" subplot and at some of the other character deaths the writers did go for, I'm glad that the Core Four all survive. What the season actually does with Giles isn't very good, and neither Xander nor Willow are in this season enough (especially not in its second half), but at least they all get to live.

Oh, and Anya. I'm glad the writers didn't give in to the temptation to kill off Anya for some sort of cheap shock value, the way some leaked early drafts of Chosen suggest they were thinking of doing. Can you imagine how infuriating that would have been? I don't know if I would ever have accepted it. I might even now be living in denial. Thankfully common sense prevailed there and Anya definitely survived.

#btvs

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shadowonwater · 3 months ago

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Mob Psycho 100 Fanfic Recs

Hyper fixating on Mob Psycho rn and have been reading a bunch of fanfic. So I thought I'd be nice to create a list of some of them.

All fics listed are completed unless I specify otherwise.

Also here's someone else's MP100 fanfic masterpost for more recs: here

Last updated: 9/20/24

Issho by ToastyToaster22

VERY long read. Main character is child Teru. An AU in which Teru met Mob and Ritsu before the incident where Ritsu got hurt. Story really gets across the evil of Claw with them kidnapping kids and harassing the few who keep getting away from them. Story also shows Teru's shitty neglectful parents and Dad!Reigen. Teru goes through the ringer in this fic. Fic takes place over the course of 2 - 3 years.

In general this writer has a lot of great Mob Psycho writing. They write a lot about Teru and TeruMob. Also I really like their take on the Kageyama parents. We may not see much of those parents in cannon but it's clear they do care about their kids. Toasty does a great job on using them as actual characters.

Immoral Support by c_c_cherry

Teru lives alone, and has been living alone for awhile. He's given money from his parents but that's it. He knows how to fake signatures but now the school is demanding to see a guardian in-person. Teru not knowing what to do, pretends that Reigen is his guardian, things go on from there.

The Ties were Black, The Lies were White by generally

There is some sex in this story, fyi. Basically Reigen is going to his sister's wedding and can bring a plus-one. Serizawa wants to go with him. They decide to go as "business partners". They do things such as sharing a bed and dancing as "business partners". Of course they realize their feelings for each other and confess. The sex scene is a bit after that.

Walking Mob Home by CryRan88

A short two chapter story about Reigen walking Mob home after work. First chapter: Mob feel asleep and Reigen gives him a piggy back ride to Mob's house. 2nd chapter: Reigen is asleep and Mob gets Dimple to posses him so he can still walk Mob home without actually waking him up.

Mother by Sunlolli

Reigen's got some mommy issues. His mom dies and starts haunting him. The espers in Reigen's life don't want to get rid of her without Reigen's permission but she's really messing him up and he just wants to get some approval from her. Story is a bit depressing but very good.

In Quicksand by SpiritusRex

Reigen gets possessed and gets sick. Unreliable narrator Reigen. Don't worry, the spirit gets caught pretty quickly, and Reigen ends up fine.

It Takes Time by CowardlyBean

A very short fic about Reigen quitting smoking for Mob's sake. Very cute.

you'll have to make due with a reasonable facsimile by SoliAvi

A short fic that takes place right after the end of the separation arc. Reigen and Mob eat ramen together again and Reigen apologizes. Very sweet.

When you need me by SpiritusRex

A 5 + 1 fic. 5 Times Mob hugged Reigen and 1 time Reigen hugged Mob. 1: Little Mob asking for advise about nightmares. 2: Mob being hurt after the Teru fight. 3: Mob holding onto Reigen to float them both back home after the first Claw arc. 4: After the Mogami arc. 5: After separation arc. +1: Reigen hugging Mob after digging him out of the broccoli after 2nd Claw arc.

Rainbow Veins and Life in Technicolor by BinaryDreams1010

As it turns out, Reigen actually IS an esper. He's an empath, and that comes with being able to read and manipulate others emotions. He did not know he was doing that. He just thought he was REALLY good at reading people and convincing them. Serizawa figures it out and tells him. The first story is about Serizawa figuring out Reigen is an empath, the 2nd story is about what Reigen does after knowing he's an empth, that is trying to figure out how to get rid of a spirit on his own.

Use Your Words by CowardlyBean

Reigen gets possessed by a spirit that hates espers. He's stuck in the backseat of his body while it pilots him around, pretending to be him. It's an ass towards Serizawa and Mob. Of course the other characters figure out something is wrong.

Area Hysteria by c_c_cherry

Reigen and Dimple visit a worn down building slated for demolition to get rid of a spirit. The building collapses with them in it. Dimple is fine, Reigen isn't. Dimple posses Reigen's body to help keep him alive and hope for rescue soon. Reigen gets rescued... eventually. But this isn't the end to the problems because Reigen ends up in sort of supernaturally-induced coma that Mob has to get into his head to get him out of. Long story. Marked as unfinished but ends at a really good stopping point. (Update: It started updating again)

Haunting My Own Skin by Kirii_Kitten

Reigen dies and then posses his own corpse to pretend that everything is normal. Dimple is concerned that Reigen's spirit is going to corrupt, his fears are well-founded. Reigen gets found out of course and things go to shit, but there is a happy ending.

symbiosis by ruthwrites

AU in which ???% is a separate entity from Mob and it's made of energy and jumps from esper to esper. When Mob gives Reigen his power during the 1st Claw arc, ???% goes with that energy. Problem is that it didn't go back to Mob, it got stuck in Reigen. I recommend the whole series, the series is kind of depressing though. Reigen really goes through it in this series. I don't want to give too much away but... Reigen isn't gonna come out of this very... human. Each entry in the series is completed, however I can't help but feel the series itself isn't completed, it seems to end on what would be the start of this AUs version of the Separation Arc. It's a bitter ending.

Yesterday by ch_am

Takes place during and after hot springs OVA. Shows Reigen's experience in the parallel dimension. On the train ride home, Reigen has a panic attack and runs off to the bathroom, Serizawa helps him and realizes that Reigen was in that dimension for awhile. Serizawa goes back home with Reigen to make sure that when he wakes up he won't be alone again. They eat breakfast together and talk about what happened.

Reflection by Silver_fox221

Turns out Reigen is a kitsune. He did not know he was a kitsune. He's in denial at first what with these traits only appearing now as a 30-ish year old. But even when he accepts the truth, he can't bring himself to tell the others besides Dimple (who he knows can keep a secret). His kitsune traits include being able to turn into a fox, having a silver orb that's a physical manifestation of his soul that he has to protect, and also a new found fear of dogs. Fic is unfinished but has a very unique idea. I only found a few other stories that had Kitsune!Reigen but in the other ones I saw he already knew he was a fox.

Categories

A lot of fics I like fall within categories, like they play with similar ideas. So I thought I would create lists of fics that cover the same topics. If you like one in a list, you would probably like the others.

Train OVA (Reigen has a bad time)

Teru's Parents Suck, Reigen to the Rescue

Various MP100 Stuff I found on Tumblr (no theme)

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #fic rec

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fountainpenguin · 4 months ago

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Riddle watches New Wish - Post #24

Growing Pains

Even the yams belong to the Dimmadomes...

Hazels' cute ladybug phone! I still like how we can't tell if it's a Dimmadome brand. Everyone else likes to flaunt logos, but Hazel's just there.

Aw, Hazel's gotten over her jealousy towards her brother's girlfriend taking up his time and thinks they're cute together. I'm so glad we get to see a sibling relationship like this.

"What's a good idea? Aging??" - Antony, unaware Hazel's about to age up with magic to see a PG-13 movie.

Okay, so... I'm gonna note down Wanda's comment that she and Cosmo were "teenagers in the 1590s." Obviously that's not true even in this show's canon since Cosmo and Wanda have been married for 10k, 20k years.

... Actually, did they say they'd been married that long in this show? They keep talking about their 10k-year vacation, not their marriage.

Point being, I'm going to try sussing out Peri's New Wish age at a later date using some information, though my 'fics will stick to my already established timeline.

There's a Dancing Tarantula movie AND a Crimson Chin movie? Dev's probably been in and out of this theater a lot lately, because those posters match the ones in his room. I wonder if he has a private theater and exclusive screening rights.

Queen.

Why do I get the feeling they're about to drop Fairy puberty info on Hazel and they probably gave this talk to Peri while posed in a similar way? oh no.

I don't think this is something I'll include in my canon because it doesn't fit my Fairy biology and I already have my own established puberty stuff in 'fic, but I admire the goofiness.

-> But I'm glad I got to hear them talk about pheromones / fairymones, because I definitely use those and it makes me laugh. Insect people...

Btw, "tons of red splashy sauce on body" is really bad on my hemophobia, so I'm censoring the screenshots.

This is so funny to me. Concerned dad gives The Talk.

They're cute. Very shape.

slkdjf, Peri watching Hazel on the news. I love how he squirms his legs uncomfortably- "Oooh... Pasta puberty. I do not miss that."

Is he at his parents' place, avoiding Dev? Or is this his room?

I'm pretty sure he's at Cosmo and Wanda's. You can tell from the stars on the stairwell behind him, plus I remember a couch that made me think of Princess Peach, AND they had a window on that wall overlooking Fairy World.

Between this and "Multiverse" (the other of its pair)... Not sure I love the implication that after the Irep drama, Dev's not been taking Peri to school and Peri's not making the effort to be near him. Uh-oh...

They really are like exes who can't stand to be under the same roof, for real, for real.

Alternate explanation: Peri's on his lunch break.

Maybe he's tracking Dev's phone, waiting 'til he's needed.

?? Is that how everyone in this show holds forks? Because I seem to remember Poof flip-flopping through ambidexterity before settling in with right-handedness after left-handed Foop was born, and it's very funny to see Poof hold his fork with his presumed less dominant fist.

I get the purpose of making the item easy to draw by having it face us, but I laugh.

Now that I think about it (in retrospect after Peri bragged about how he'd been following Dev around even after he quit)... I like how Peri thinks his parents hover too much and then he also hovers too much.

Geez, fairy kids have it rough. Terrible Twos, pooferty, and now this? Apparently growing into your magic just wrecks you.

Also, I want a 'fic about Hazel's parents inviting Cosmo, Wanda, and their son over and everyone (especially Antony who probably thinks he's Peri's age) just asks Peri a bunch of questions about if he's doing school or a job or whatever and he's just /laughs nervously.

Hazel's parents are so good to her and they've clearly taught her to communicate well and politely set boundaries. The contrast between them and Clark and Connie Carmichael is hilarious.

I'm glad Cosmo and Wanda have no sense of things Hazel would find gross.

This and "Multiverse of Jenkins" were really fun filler episodes!

#Riddle watches FOP #New Wish spoilers #Pending Hazel tag #Dragonfly parents #Purple hippie dragonfly #Pending Dev tag #FAIRIES!#Growing Pains #Long post

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schrijverr · 11 months ago

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The Hearts of Gotham 7

Chapter 7 out of 7

Bruce makes the Justice League believe he has two hearts and is a manifestation of Gotham’s night to throw them off his secret identity, not trusting them. When the sound system breaks, he doesn’t come clean, but lies instead that he split into two to make Robin. From there it spirals as all the Robins make the lies grow and twist it in their own ways, until the truth comes out.

This fic is based on this post and inspired by Bouncing Baby Bat, or so the Justice League is led to believe... by EmpressGeek.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

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Chapter 7: How It All Comes Crashing Down

Of course, nothing can last. Not that this was ever meant to last. Bruce always thought that the League would mess up and he could drop them and with that the charade. Or that he could give it up when he got more comfortable. Neither happened. And now he is still maintaining it. Though that is about to end.

It’s due to an unfortunate and unpredictable set of circumstances too.

If the Watchtower hadn’t exploded in their previous battle, if Clark hadn’t been hit with kryptonite, if Gotham hadn’t been the closest, if he could have reached his kids. Than none of this would have happened and he could have pretended to be a cryptid manifestation of Gotham’s night with two hearts for the rest of time.

Alas, it’s not meant to be and if he wants Superman to live, he’ll have to go to the Cave and cross his fingers that none of his kids are down there when he arrives with a big clunk of the League in tow.

So, here he is, tearing down the streets of Gotham in the Batmobile, Clark bleeding out in the backseat as Diana and Hal try to keep pressure on the wound, while Barry curses loudly and is of no particular help at all.

Because of course Superman would get hit with kryptonite shrapnel that lodged itself deep inside where they can’t reach, which meant he can’t recover. And of course he needs surgery, but the only kryptonite Bruce has on him is a weapon, not the surgical implement he has at a spare of at the Cave. And of course he can’t just let Superman die, because he actually likes the man.

Great.

Fucking fantastic.

He enters the right tunnel to the Cave, coming to a stop at the parking bay and throwing open the doors of the Batmobile. The Cave is luckily empty at first glance, so he just orders Clark to the medbay, ignoring how everyone starts to look around as he focuses on applying aid.

Now, Bruce has become a pretty good medic over the years. It’s a hazard of the job and he had to learn or die. And despite the fact that this is more difficult that setting a nose or stitching someone up, he’s pretty confident he can do this without Alfred, so he doesn’t have to blow his cover completely.

Bruce went to medical school for a year, that has to count for something right? He’s done field surgery before.

Clark is bleeding a lot and removing all the pieces is difficult, but Bruce honestly thinks he’s getting somewhere. The others are hovering over his shoulder, trying to get Clark to hang in there, and he has always worked better under pressure.

When the tides finally seem to turn, Bruce thinks that his decades as a vigilante and a dad have finally paid off culminating in this. Because after a tense 45 minutes, color is returning to Clark’s face and the bleeding has stopped.

Bruce bandages him up and mentally starts to calculate how quickly he can get them out of the Batcave, especially when Barry comments: “Where did you get a giant Penny? Or a T-rex for that matter. I feel like I should’ve asked about the T-rex first.”

“Cases,” he replies curtly, then adds: “Robin wanted to keep them,” because he has a reputation to maintain.

“You have a bunch of crazy shit here, Spooky. But also cool shit,” Hal concedes, poking around the evidence and the rest of the cave, making Bruce’s eye twitch.

He��s just about to lie that the others are somewhere among the stalactites sleeping so they have to be quiet and leave soon – because he might as well commit even more at this point – when there is a loud crash at the entrance to the Cave.

As he scrambles to find a way to signal whichever of his kids just came crashing in that it is a bad time, Dick’s voice rings out: “B are you okay? We saw your scuffle on the TV, so I came as soon as I noticed you were down here.”

Another crash, then Jason’s voice: “Don’t listen to him, dad! He’s being nice to hide that he’s been a fuck ass who ate the last of Alfred’s cookies!”

By that point, Dick comes sliding into view of the League. He’s in his socks, but dressed as if he came out of work (probably due to the cookies) and is sans mask. When he sees everyone his eyes widen and he scrambles to stop.

Jason, who is hot on his trail, slams into his back, making the two of them stumble. He catches his balance, then scowls: “What’ya do that for, Dickface?” then he looks up and sees the League as well, dumbly commenting: “Uh-oh.”

He too is dressed in street wear, but not the kind he wears when he’s out as Red Hood. Though Bruce notes the gun tucked into the back of his pants. There is also no mask on his face, but he’s still wearing shoes, probably caught Dick as he came in.

Bruce stands quietly to the side, not sure if he wants to get the attention back on him with the mess that has just been created right in front of them. While both the League and his two eldest sons just stare at each other for a moment.

A part of him wants to be upset that the Justice League knows now and he’ll have to face the embarrassment. Especially since it’s over something as silly as eaten cookies.

However, he can’t be angry. Jason called him dad again, he and Dick are screwing around, and both are comfortable enough to not only come crashing into the Manor for cookies, but also to come visit him in the Batcave. That’s worth more than his pride.

Besides his pride only grows when his sons are the first to recover. But it is Dick, who is the first to speak again. Apologetically he greets: “Oh, hi, uhm, we- we didn’t realize B had visitors over.”

“Sup, fuckers,” Jason adds.

Barry is the first of the League that manages to speak, dumbly saying: “You can take the masks off?” making both Dick and Jason laugh, while Bruce feels his own lip twitching slightly.

“Yeah, we can take ‘em off, Barry,” Dick answers him kindly, albeit a little amused.

Then it’s Clark, who speaks up from where he has been frowning. His face suddenly clears up and he points at them and exclaims: “I’ve interviewed you! You’re Dick Grayson-Wayne. What- What are you doing here?”

“Well, uhm, I accidentally stumbled in here?” Dick replies, knowing it likely won’t save him.

“That’s what you get for always being on the front of those gossip rags, Dickiebird,” Jason ribs his brother. “I don’t get recognized.”

Dick immediately turns to scowl at his brother: “You’re dead, that doesn’t count.”

“Totally does,” Jason informs him smugly.

Bruce decides to step in, before any of the horrified League members do, because that will only encourage Jason more. “Kids, please. Let’s all take a minute.”

By speaking up, he cut off any reactions by getting the attention back on him. A good idea in theory, but one that feels wrong when all the League member look at him. If he were a lesser man, he would have disappeared into the shadows of the Cave. He’s sure he has a grappler on him, he could take stepping off the medbay platform.

“Batman, what is happening?” Diana demands and Bruce would have been fine if it had been anyone but her asking.

He sighs, dawdles for a second as he fights the urge to pout and shrink away. Then makes the executive decision that he is too exhausted to try and salvage this situation. He never thought to make a contingency for this level of idiocy and he knows that there truly isn’t a real reason to keep it up for longer.

So, he pulls off his cowl, looking tiredly at the League as he says: “You just met two of my kids outside of the mask, because they’re having a fight over cookies.”

“Alfred’s cookies!” Jason corrects indignantly and Bruce does have to agree with that. He has shamelessly participated in fights over those cookies. So he gives Jason a small nod, which seems to mollify him.

“Bruce Wayne,” Hal exclaims. “Batman is Bruce fucking Wayne?”

“No,” Clark frowns. “I- I’ve interviewed Bruce Wayne dozens of times. He’s human. Completely human.”

Sometimes Bruce wonders why he works with a bunch of idiots, then realizes he sounds like Damian and quickly pushes the thought away. Though he can’t help but give Clark a deadpan look as he disables the sound system, maybe getting a little bit of joy out of the shocked eyes he gets in turn.

“You’re second heartbeat. It’s gone,” Clark says dumbly.

“Wait, is Batman going to give birth to another Robin? Because I don’t think I can be here for that,” Barry says in a panic and Bruce starts to think Damian might have a point, while Dick and Jason start dying of laughter.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce answers seriously: “I am not about to give birth, Barry. I have never given birth. I’m human. I’ve always been human. There never was a second heart.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then the whole crowd explodes.

“What the fuck? What about all the little kids we met?”

“Batman, we’ve been working together for over two decades! How could you keep this from us?”

“I- I can’t believe I got punked by Batman.”

“Humans. Humans. I can’t believe- I-” Clark is the most shocked. Bruce almost feels bad, since he is his best friend and the man has been nothing but kind to him throughout all these years and he had no reason to lie.

“I’m sorry about lying, but it was the best way to work together,” Bruce tells them neutrally, though a little sorry too.

Jason, naturally, ruins his reputation immediately, slinging an arm around his shoulders as he grins to the group and says: “What B here means is that he was paranoid as fuck when he met you all and by the time Dick there came along, he was in too deep and too embarrassed to say anything.”

While knowing it won’t do a thing, Bruce feels the need to warn: “Jason.”

“What! It’s true. Right, Dick?” Jason exclaims.

Bruce looks at his oldest, but betrayal seems to be all around today, because Dick apologetically says: “It is, B, sorry. You really didn’t have to lie by the time I got onto the scene. You didn’t really have a reason when pitching it to me except for undercover training. It’s a bit of a bad look if you can’t find an explanation for a nine year old.”

“You were the first Robin,” Diana realizes.

“Guilty as charged,” Dick smiles at her charmingly. “I’m Nightwing now. Nice to meet you outside the mask.”

“Likewise,” Diana replies, shaking his hand, ever the princess. She then turns to Jason and asks: “And who might you be?”

“I’m Jason, Jason Todd. I was the second Robin. I’m Red Hood now,” Jason shakes her hand, still a little starstruck. Fondly Bruce thinks that some things never truly change. “It’s nice to meet you, Wonder Woman.”

“You can call me Diana. And it’s nice to meet you too,” she smiles.

In the background Hal whispers to Barry: “I thought Jason Todd died?”

With a wolfish grin comes onto Jason’s face and neither Bruce nor Dick stop him when he says: “I did, I got better,” though Dick does roll his eyes.

“Wait, I once caught Red Hood,” Clark says, suddenly realizing what he did. “You said you were Crime Alley come to life and I- Oh no. I…”

“Let a wanted criminal go based off the sound of an extra heartbeat with no evidence he was telling the truth,” Bruce fills in mildly.

“I appreciated it, Supes,” Jason pipes up with a big grin.

“Wait, your son is a criminal? Doesn’t that get awkward?” Barry asks.

“Well, I like to think of myself as more of an anti-hero, you know. One that steps in and doles out a more permanent kind of justice that Batman is too much of a pussy for,” Jason says.

“We have an ideological difference,” Bruce grits, pinching his brow bone. “He slowed down the murder. We’re working on it.”

“He’s working on it, I’m not really,” Jason tells them conversationally.

Though he is luckily stopped by Dick before he can say much more. The elder claps a hand over his mouth and smiles at the unconvinced League as he cheerfully informs them: “He’s a bit of a drama queen, it’s not so bad. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel like we maybe should worry about that,” Clark says.

And while Bruce loves his friend, he is absolutely not having Clark meddle in Jason’s recovery and adjustment into the family. They have just made a step forwards and no one is ruining that for him. Not now.

Fortunately, before he has to hurt Clark’s feelings more, a motorcycle pulls into the Cave with Duke on it. He grapples his way over to the medbay, already saying: “Do we have some extra fear gas antidote, there is a- oh! Hi, uhm, you’re- you’re the Justice League.”

Then, because Duke is a loyal son and has moved up to Bruce’s second favorite, he quickly puts on a dramatic voice and introduces himself: “I am Gotham’s day and-”

“You don’t have to, Duke,” Dick cuts him off.

“Huh?” Duke asks.

“Yeah, we just kind of ruined it all. The League knows we’re just some people,” Jason shrugs, though he is grinning and doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic. Bruce isn’t sure why he expected it.

“Oh, well, then I’m Duke, it’s an honor to meet you,” Duke tells them Justice League, who is still in shock at the sudden appearance.

Bruce hears Barry ask Hal if they’ve ever met this one and before it can become an actual question, he steps in and says: “We have more of the antidote over here. What happened? Did Scarecrow escape?”

“No, but some d-rate villain found an old stash,” Duke reports dutifully, taking the case of antidotes from him. “Cass is still fighting him, while I get this, but we have it handled. Don’t worry. I do have to go now.”

“Of course, good luck,” Bruce says.

“Thanks,” Duke smiles, before dropping down to the parking bay.

“Kick ass!” Jason yells after him.

“Give a call if you need back up,” Dick also calls out.

“Will do,” Duke promises, before speeding out of the Cave.

Bruce decides that this is the perfect opportunity and says: “We should leave too. The world saw Superman take a hit and us take off. Our latest battle site is still smoking. We need to make a public appearance to show that Clark here will be just fine. Maybe help with some of the clean up for good press.”

“But I wanna talk more about all this,” Barry whines.

“Yeah, there have been too many reveals and I feel like I haven’t processed any of them and have a hundred more questions to ask,” Hal agrees.

“Exactly!” Barry adds again. “Like you’re Bruce Wayne, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen that kid before.”

“You’re human,” Clark adds, another betrayal of today.

“Well that’s tough for you,” Bruce says anyway, allowing himself to be a little bitchy. Today has been long, okay? “You can process in your own time and ask questions next time we see each other. Now get out of here.”

“Oehhh that’s his you’re in trouble voice,” Jason tells them, big smirk on his face.

“He’ll answer later, he just needs to be grumpy now,” Dick placates them and while it is correct, Bruce doesn’t want to promise that to them just now. So he glares at Dick, who just smiles back innocently.

The interaction goes unnoticed and Diana just smiles: “Well, then I am content to leave this revelation for now. Batman is right that we should return to the battlefield now, seek out our other comrades and assure everyone.”

“Thank you,” Bruce says. “Now get going.”

Fortunately, they start to do as he tells them, though Barry does pout: “Human Batman is a lot bossier.”

Bruce ignores it as the adult he is, loading the League back into the Batmobile so they can return to asses the damage and assure the public. As they leave, both Jason and Dick wave at them, calling out a goodbye that gets returned.

Before Bruce joins the rest of the League, he decides that he can be a little petty, so he stops and calls out: “Oh, and Dick?” “Yeah?” “You’re grounded.”

“What! Why? I didn’t do anything?” Dick exclaims indignantly. “Are you really grounding me for embarrassing you in front of your friends?”

“No, for eating the last of Alfred’s cookies,” Bruce says.

“Ha! Vengeance! Eat that, Dickface,” Jason crows with delight.

Dick splutters some more, before yelling: “You can’t ground me, I’m an adult. You have no power over me.”

“Still grounded,” Bruce shrugs, then gets into the car.

Before he can drive off, he can hear Jason laugh more at his brother, before Dick calls him a fucking tattletale, after which they can hear Jason shriek: “No! Don’t you fucking dare. No, no. Dickface!” before there is a shriek, followed a crash and the sound of a scuffle.

At that point Bruce planks the gas and they shoot out of the Cave. Cautiously Clark leans over and asks: “Is Jason going to be okay?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s going to be fine,” Bruce assures him. “They get a lot rougher when they’re all there. This is mild stuff honestly.”

“I can imagine. A lot of youngings can become a full house,” Diana says politely.

“How many kids to you have anyway?” Hal asks.

“Depends on how you count,” he shrugs.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hal shrieks.

Deciding it’s a little funny how shocked they are, Bruce explains in detail: “Well, only Damian, the current Robin is mine biologically. I’ve adopted Dick and Jason, who you just met, as well as Tim, who is Red Robin and Cass, who is Black Bat. Then Duke is my ward. Steph, you know her as Spoiler, says she isn’t my kid, but I pay for her college and she eats my food. And Barbara, Luke, Harper and Cullen aren’t mine technically, but I still look out for them.”

“Fucking hell, Batman, at this point you have so many secrets from us, it’s like I don’t even know you. You could tell me that the T-rex eats intruders and I’d believe you,” Hal whistles.

Just to fuck with him, Bruce says: “He does,” then refuses to comment further until they’re there and have to leave the Batmobile to be the professional Justice League again.

Wanting to avoid the talk as long as possible, he slips out the moment he can. At home, Jason has convinced Alfred to make more cookies, which have lured in more of his brood. They’re all waiting when he comes in.

He is greeted loudly by Steph, who exclaims: “I can’t believe I did so much for your story and I wasn’t even there when they found out! This is so rude. I had to experience it second hand. Next time we’re fucking with people I demand to be involved in the solution.”

“I already told you, it was an accident,” Dick whines.

That sets off more squabbles, none of them actually caring about Bruce’s input, so he just stands off to the side. He nibbles on a cookie as he watches his kids fondly.

Next meeting he’ll have to face the music, get laughed at a little by the others and feel the embarrassment of letting it get so far.

Still, in his defense, he could have never known how far out of hand it all got when he started it in a fit of paranoia. And, despite the humiliation, he can’t be too mad. It only grew to what it is now, because of his family. He can live with all of it if he has his family.

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geekfanficwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Ahoy, Sailors- Steve Harrington x Metalhead!Reader

Summary: You meet Steve while he’s working at Scoops Ahoy and even though you’re different from any girl he’s ever met before, he can’t help but be interested in you. Words: 2.3k Warnings: None, I think

Author’s Note: This is (hopefully) going to be the start of a collection of Steve x Metalhead!Reader stories so if you have any requests for Steve x Metalhead!Reader fics send them in!

‘You can have one scoop.’ You tell your little sister as you join the line at the ice cream shop in the mall.

‘Two.’ She argued back.

‘One, otherwise you won’t eat your dinner and mom’ll kill me.’

‘Fine,’ She pouts as you sigh, ‘can I get a chocolate-dipped cone?’

‘Yeah, I guess but don’t tell mom or I won’t take you to the mall ever again.’ You ruffle her hair as she nods and zips her lips, making you laugh. You turn back to the line in front of you, waiting for your turn to order. You looked behind the counter and were shocked to see Steve Harrington working there. You had both graduated this year and you’d known him as a rich douche so to see him working a normal job was surprising.

‘Ahoy, ladies. What can I get you?’ He greets you as you step up to the counter. Steve definitely recognised you from school. You weren’t someone he ever interacted with but you were someone who didn’t exactly blend in. With your piercings and tattoos, and ‘fuck you’ attitude you were definitely not a forgettable person.

‘I want a chocolate ice cream in a chocolate cone and chocolate sauce.’ Your sister says before you even have a chance to speak.

‘One scoop or two?’ Steve asks, smiling down at her.

‘Two!’ She yells.

‘No, one. I told you, you can’t have two.’ She huffs at your words crossing her arms, as Steve laughs. He heads over to the ice cream freezer and scoops a scoop for your sister, handing it over to her after putting the chocolate sauce on top.

‘Go sit down at a table and take these.’ You say pulling some napkins out of the holder and handing them to her. She happily skips over to an empty table as you turn back to Steve.

‘You got a bag back there for when she vomits in my car? Especially as I noticed that was two scoops.’ You joke.

‘No bag, unfortunately, but can I get you anything?’

‘Just one scoop of strawberry in a tub.’ You tell him and he nods, heading back over to the freezer.

‘So what are your plans now that you’ve graduated?’ Steve asks you, as he scoops the ice cream.

‘Oh just taking some time off to figure stuff out and earn some money.’ You shrug as he hands over the ice cream. ‘What about you?’

‘Yeah same, trying to branch out on my own, way from my parents.’ Steve told you, not mentioning that his dad had cut him off. He hands you over the tub and you thank him.

‘So did those hurt?’ Steve asked indicating at the piercings on your face.

‘Did the needle going through my skin hurt? Yeah, it was pretty painful.’ You frown at him, and he feels himself flush at how much of an idiot he feels like.

‘Right, yeah obviously. Umm, your total is $4 and 10 cents.’ He says looking down at the cash register in front of him. You nod and pull your wallet out of your pocket, grabbing out 5 dollars.

‘Nice uniform by the way, really suits you.’ You smile at him.

‘God, don’t even get me started on this uniform, it’s terrible and it covers up my best feature.’ He says pointing to his hair as he hands you back your change.

‘Aww so disappointing that we can’t see your beautiful hair but you look so good, I mean those shorts are great.’ You laugh.

‘You’re judging my outfit when you’re carrying a unicorn bag?’ He jokes back, pointing at the bag you were carrying which you had just bought for your sister.

‘Yeah, I love unicorns and rainbows, I think it really goes well with my outfit.’ You point at your outfit. A Metallica t-shirt with black jeans and big boots alongside a denim vest with a bunch of patches and pins on it.

‘Yeah, the bright colours go well with all the black.’

‘Thanks, I agree.’

‘Hey, can you two stop flirting? Some of us want ice cream.’ A voice says from behind you. Steve looks behind you to see Erica Sinclair standing there with her hands on her hips.

‘I’ll see you later.’ You smile at Steve, picking up your ice cream.

‘Yeah, see you.’ Steve waves as you walk over to the table where your sister is sitting. Steve turns around and opens the hatch to the back room where Robin is sorting stock.

‘Robin, come here.’ He beckons her over and she sighs standing up and walking over to the window.

‘Do you remember that girls name?’ Steve asked pointing over at you. He might remember who you were but he couldn’t remember your name. He was pretty sure it began with an S? Or maybe an L?

‘Why?’ Robin asked, looking confused.

‘Look can you just tell me.’ He says frustrated.

‘Pretty sure it’s Y/N and I’m also pretty sure she’s dating Eddie Munson.’ Robin asks, figuring out why he was asking.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, they hang out all the time.’ She shrugs as Steve sighs, disappointed.

The next time you went into Scoops Ahoy was with Eddie, the two of you had been to see The Stuff and decided to get ice cream afterwards.

‘That movie was terrible.’ Eddie huffs.

‘It wasn’t that bad, I mean a little cheesy but not the worst.’ You shrug.

‘Well, I’m hoping that this ice cream turns us into zombies so I don’t have to think about it again.’ You roll your eyes at him.

‘Shut up.’ You say shoving him forward to the counter.

‘Hey, Steve.’ You smile as you approach the counter, pushing your hair behind your ear. You hear Eddie snort in amusement from beside you and you kick him in the shin.

‘Hey, what can I get for the two of you?’ Steve asks, smiling awkwardly back.

‘What do you want, Eddie?’ You say looking at him.

‘The U.S.S. Butterscotch is really popular for couples who want to share.’ Steve perks up and you give him a look of disgust.

‘You think I’m dating him? Ew.’ You say pointing at Eddie.

‘Hey!’ Eddie yells, offended. ‘After that comment, you’re paying for me to get one of those to eat all by myself.’

‘Whatever.’ You roll your eyes at him. ‘I’ll just have one scoop of strawberry.’

‘Cool, I’ll get both of those for you.’ Steve says. ‘You know, everyone says the two of you are dating.’

‘Yeah but Y/N likes preppy guys.’ Eddie smirks at you as you glare at him.

‘Oh really?’ Steve smirks over at you.

‘Well, I just like good-looking guys.’ You shrug at him.

‘Look likes were in the same boat, well except I like girls, good looking girls.’ You giggle as Steve stumbles over his words. Eddie mumbles something about going to sit down at a table and stalks off.

‘Don’t worry. I get what you mean.’ You smile at him.

‘Good, 'cause I do like girls. Especially ones who like strawberry ice cream.’ He says sliding over the two ice creams.

‘Well, I like guys with good hair, even if it is covered by a hat.’ You flirt back.

‘Yeah, it looks a lot better without the hat.’ Steve says leaning on the counter.

‘I bet it does.’ Steve opens his mouth to say something back but Robin clears her throat, causing him to look away from you.

‘That’ll be $3.80.’

‘How come it’s cheaper than last time?’ You frown at him.

‘Oh, I’ve only charged you for two scoops.’

‘Oh well, thanks.’ You smile at him, handing him over the cash before walking over to where Eddie was sitting.

‘Hi, Steve.’ Eddie mimics your voice, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger.

‘Shut up, you’re a dick.’ You say, pushing the ice cream over to him.

‘So the reason you wanted to get ice cream was so you could flirt with Harrington then?’

‘You suggested getting ice cream.’ You pointed out.

‘Well, still you were just looking for an excuse to flirt with him.’ Eddie jokes.

‘So what if I was?’ You shrug.

‘Wow, I can’t believe you have a crush on Steve Harrington.’ Eddie laughed.

‘God, please don’t.’ You beg him. You knew you were never going to hear the end of this from Eddie.

‘What? It’s sweet, trying to see all cool in front of him.’

‘I’m not trying to be cool in front of him.’

‘Yes, you were. ‘I would never date Eddie, he’s gross not like you Steve.’’ Eddie mimics you again.

‘Maybe if you changed your bedsheets more than once a year, I wouldn’t think you were gross.’

‘Not like there’s anyone else in them so why would I change them?’

‘There might be a reason for that Eddie.’ You point out taking a mouthful of ice cream.

You smile as you see Steve behind the counter. You were hoping he was working today when you came in. You approach the counter and Steve immediately smiles when he sees you.

‘Hey Y/N, you want strawberry?’ He asks leaning on the counter.

‘Umm, actually no. I was wondering if you guys do pints of ice cream?’

‘No, we don’t, sorry.’

‘Damn, it’s for my sister.’

‘Wait, just a moment.’ Steve holds up a finger and runs through to the back. He comes out a few moments later with a freshly washed Tupperware dish in his hands.

‘This work?’ He asks, waving the dish.

‘Yeah, that’s great, thanks so much.’ You say as he starts to fill it up with chocolate ice cream. ‘She’s just had her tonsils out and I promised I’d go get ice cream from the ‘cute sailor boy’. Her words, not mine.’ You smile at him.

‘Hmm, well you should tell her she’s got a really cute sister.’ He hands you over the box. ‘It’s on the house, I mean it’s basically medicine and I can’t charge you for that.’

‘You’ve got to stop giving me free ice cream, otherwise, I’ll be in here every day.’ You tell him.

‘That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Although I’d rather see you-‘

‘Steve!’ A voice interrupts, throwing open the hatch. Steve turns around to see Dustin there. ‘You need to come back in here now.’ He tells Steve.

‘Can it wait a minute? I’m in the middle of a conversation.’ Steve points at you.

‘Oh, hi Y/N.’ Dustin waves.

‘Hey, we’ve got some new DnD books in.’ You wave back.

‘Wait you two know each other?’ Steve looks between the two of you.

‘Yeah, Y/N works at the comic book and games shop in town. Now come back here, it’s about the thing.’ Dustin says putting an emphasis on the word thing and Steve sighs.

‘I’ll talk to you later, yeah?’ Steve turns to face you.

‘Yeah, later.’ You wave as Steve heads into the back.

‘So you ask her out on a date yet, dingus?’ Robin asks as he sits down at the table.

‘I was about to but someone interrupted.’ Steve glares at Dustin.

‘Wait? You like Y/N?’ Dustin says, surprised.

‘Yeah, they flirt every time she comes in, it’s disgusting.’ Robin fake gags.

‘But she’s cool?’ Dustin asks confused.

‘And? Your point?’ Steve says frustrated.

‘Well, you don’t like cool girls.’

‘I do- you know what, just show me what you wanted to show me.’

You hear the bell ring over the door and you look up to see Dustin, Mike and Lucas running in. You wave slightly at the kids, pulling off your headphones, as they head over to the shelf. You see Steve trailing behind them and your face immediately lights up until you see all the bruises and cuts covering your face.

‘Shit are you okay?’ You say concerned as he approaches the counter.

‘Yeah, just… ran into a door.’ He shrugs.

‘Did you run into it 10 times?’

‘Well it was during the fire at the mall so probably did more than that.’ He says like it’s no big deal.

‘Fuck, you were in the fire? You sure you okay?’ You reach over to grab his hand without even thinking about it.

‘Yeah, I’ll be alright.’ He nods.

‘Well, I would help nurse you back to health but you’d probably end up worse off than before.’ You joke, running your thumb along his knuckles.

‘Damn, I would love to see you in a nurse's uniform.’ Steve smiles at you.

‘Sorry to disappoint but hey I’m also disappointed, I’ll never get to see you in that sailor’s uniform again.’

‘Can you two stop?’ Dustin says, placing down a couple of comic books.

‘You know I can just make you walk home?’ Steve glares at him as you ring Dustin up.

‘Please, the only reason you agreed to give us a ride in the first place was cause you were hoping Y/N would be here.’ You blush at Dustin’s words. Did Steve really want to see you?

‘So what if I did?’ Steve shoots back. You laugh and tell Dustin the amount.

‘Whatever. Just ask her on a date already.’ Dustin hands you the money and then walks back over to where the other kids are standing.

‘You wanted to see me then?’ You smile at him.

‘Maybe and maybe I want to see you this Friday?’ Steve asks hopefully.

‘Are you asking me on a date?’ You tease.

‘Yeah, I am.’ He nods, sounding more confident than you’d heard him.

‘I’ll go on a date with you. Here’s my number.’ You say, grabbing his hand and writing your number on the back of it.

‘Great, I’ll call you and we can work out the details.’

‘Oh but I have one condition.’ You say holding up a finger.

‘Yeah, anything.’ Steve feels his heart racing wondering what you were going to ask.

‘You have to wear the sailor’s uniform.’ You laugh.

‘Only if you wear the nurse’s uniform.’

#steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #joe keery x reader

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marichild · 18 days ago

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heyheyhey 3 and 4 for the fic ask game ?

*slides in* *puts on peace sign* HELLO TO THE BEST AKU STAN EVER <3

3. Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How fat along are you with them?

QUITE A FEW ACTUALLY! since you're my bsd moot I shall give you a small list of the ones I'm focused on posting at least by January <3

ALREADY BASKING IN THE SUN — kunikidazai canon, slice of life vibes, pining & fluff. teen and up. currently the first scene is written and I hope to have it out next week!

IF WE MUST BECOME SOMETHING — soukoku, dazai & atsushi, festivals, based on that absolutely lethal wan! panel. yk the one. with the fireworks. teen and up. it's half written!! I just need to write out the final scenes and post next week hopefully

WHERE MY PULSE BEATS — soukoku college/high school au, band member!chuuya, soloist!dazai, whatever you can use to describe pre-dark era soukoku to lovers, explicit, I am still plotting this out very randomly

UNTITLED — soukoku canon relationship fix-it, missing scenes vibes, post-dead apple & post-cannibalism arc, explicit. still writing out random scenes to see how well it all fits together

UNTITLED — fyozai, vague college au, straight up just discussions of suicide. ghost!fyodor. mature. making notes for it and reading fyozai fic (giggles my fav bsd ship ever) to properly cement characterization!!

4. Tell me about one of your abandoned WIPs. Why did you abandon it?

AHDHHSHD I'LL COPY PASTE MY REPLY TO THE OTHER ASK!!

hoo boy. so, there was a sort of ambitious au I tried to write once—have you heard of twin star exorcists? I'm an anime enthusiast of it since I got pretty frustrated with where the manga was going what with the constant delays and derailing from the main point and the author not staying consistent with details, etc. that being said the anime doesn't fill a lot of gaps that should have been filled.

so while I was still pretty active in the kpop circles—which I probably will go back to soon lol when I feel less icky about the people I was beefing with—I tried to write a TSE au. while it wasn't my brightest idea to transpose a bunch of Koreans onto a Japanese setting, I also underestimated how difficult it'd be to handle all those canon details.

plus, exorcism is very heavily based on Buddhism, specifically in Japan, so I was just like. well am I prepared to potentially insult an entire faith. (research goes a long way kids! don't listen to younger mari) and I just sort of...let it falter and it doesn't even exist in my wip folder anymore </3

(it also involves a forced arranged marriage and the topic of being forced to have a kid, essentially, and I didn't want to genderbend anyone for it, so my solution was a trans man who was at least somewhat interested in having kids biologically one day, like me. once again, I didn't feel I did a very good job of it, and it was a little daunting to write it knowing that i did want at least a semi explicit scene that, once again, reflected me as a person. being a minor at the time, I let the idea go. and I was also much less confrontational at the time so I didn't think I could handle it if anyone was being weird about it lmao—which I fully can and will at this point.

that being said, I did write a fic about a trans man having a kid for a different fandom earlier this year, so I'm linking it if you're interested! very fluffy and family fun. and not explicit. though be warned, it is rpf lol)

HOWEVER!! I've actually considered picking it up again and rebranding as a soukoku au? once again, enemies to lovers, my transchuu agenda, my dazai can be any gender agenda, EXORCIST PRODIGIES, one of the characters has no idea where they came from and has a whole Bit about questioning their humanity. i.e. arahabaki parallels. there are a few gaps I'm trying to work out but it's definitely an idea haha)

fic ask game

#AAAA TYSM FOR ASKING!!! GIGGLES #i have so much fun with these kinds of things #fic ask game #fic writing #ao3 #mari rambles #ginderfluid #fic asks

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avijohann · 23 days ago

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I have an immense debt with I Don't Hate The Gravity. It's still my favorite fic that I've written, and as far and Johann and Avi's relationship, I think I did a pretty good job. I also tried a lot of new things that ended up becoming staples of my writing (for how little I write nowadays), and I'm very happy that people to this day still see traces of it over my work, and viceversa.

HOWEVER.

Bitch, I put so many fucking easter eggs in that fic that I never ended up addressing.

TL;DR: Gravity is now a series. I'm writing a sequel and spin-offs. Yay!

Spoilers for all of Gravity, obviously.

1. Magnus, Lucretia and the Voidfish.

This one is probably the less affected, I think knowing about their relationship and seeing it in snippets throught Gravity does a good job conveying the secret nature of their relationship, both from the point of view of a third party (who will never get to know the depths of someone else's life just from standing next to them) to the actual plot reason Magnus and Lucretia had to be quiet about it. On top of that, they both had their own personal character arcs that didn't rely on the relationship, which is something I'm very proud of.

That said, I did put a lot of effort into developing their backstory, and even if I summarized it quickly and consistently during Chapter 4, when Johann finds out Magnus' connection to the Voidfish, the way I wrote it was meant to be, I'm not sure you guys picked up, spin-off bait. I totally meant to write a little oneshot of their Voidfish heist.

2. Sweet Flips

Again, there really wouldn't be much to say. They are an stablished couple with their own life. They have (what I hope is) good rapport and are a nice resting point for the narrative when all the other relationships in this fic start getting dramatic.

Except:

"(...) Just because you didn’t PDA back then or even now doesn’t mean it wasn’t obvious to everyone you had it for each other.” “Everyone but us?” “Everyone but you, yep.” “Now you know how we felt in first year,” Avi muttered. Carey started sparkling. “That was different. I actually hated Killian’s guts.” “Yeah, you sure did.”

"Wow, Shi! That sounds like there's a story there! Are you gonna write it?" Well, sure! That's literally why I put that specific conversation there!

3. Taako, from TV?

This is the worst one imho, because unlike the other two where we kinda know what happened and how it ended. Taako's whole TV crisis thing was mentioned ONCE and then never brought up again. I was talking to @crystallizedkingdoms the other day about the Gravity spin-offs I never wrote and they told me they just assumed Taako had poisoned a bunch of people again, which is totally not the case. I planned an entire saga for him about his adventures as the only teenage contestant in a very famous and widely televised cooking show, which ended in betrayal and international embarrassement, and the consequences of putting popularity over those you love.

BUT YOU WOULDN'T KNOW BECAUSE I NEVER FUCKING WROTE IT.

The problem with these three stories isn't that I didn't write them. Everyone in school (at least the named characters) has their own thing going, it's part of the main message I wanted to write with Gravity, that everyone is the protagonist of their own life, even those who don't seem to have much going on, be it because you really can't tell the high stakes everyone is going through, or simply because what might be a nothing burger to you might feel like the end of the world to someone else. Realistically I could've never written every single backstory for every single character. The problem is I actively referenced and, again, baited with these three stories.

Well, I'm here to atone for my sins.

Gravity, the series, has officially launched as The Laws of the Universe, a series of fics centred around Gravity, the fic, exploring the lives of the teenage characters in more Astronomy metaphors.

As a reward for reading this far, and because I really need to be held accountable for this shit, you get to see the titles before anyone else. In no particular order of posting:

Pluto Is Not A Planet (Sweet Flips origin story)

And Then Copernicus Came And Ruined Everything (Taako backstory)

[TITLE TBD] (Magcretia+Voidfish backstory)

All of these are working titles and thus subject to change. As you may have guessed, each title references something related to astronomy, which in turn references the main struggle of the characters in the stories. I also wanted to keep up with the negative sentence structure (I Don't Hate The Gravity, Pluto Is Not A Planet) but found out it didn't work with what I had planed for the sequel, so that has been scrapped.

So, what is up with that sequel?

I need a new post to talk about that, but the most important thoughts have already been written in the notes of that fic. So, to quote myself:

This is a story that's been five years in the making. Some of the themes were originally part of Gravity, but I ended up cutting them out of... cowardice, basically. The thing is, Gravity was always meant to be a more """""realistic"""" take on a High School romcom, and the absence of these themes is not realistic.

I know what you're thinking. Let's talk about it in another post.

Thank you for reading, and see you in future updates!

#idhtg #tlotu #my fic

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darlingian · 6 months ago

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weekly tag wednesday friday

thank you to these lovely ones who tagged me: @jrooc @creepkinginc @energievie @deedala @gardenerian

@blue-disco-lights @vintagelacerosette @heymacy

how did you get into the fandom? I just kinda inserted myself. Lmao. Followed a bunch of gallavich blogs and did some detective work to find an invite link to the discord. lolol

how long have you been here? just over a year! (this time) I've been on and off tumblr (with the same blog!) since 2010 though!

what’s the first fandom channel you found? (Youtube, Reddit, Tumblr, Insta, Twitter, FB, other?) Tumblr, aka the fandom Homeland.

what’s your favourite now? tumblr is my ol' reliable.

which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom? I first reached out to @gallawitchxx by being annoying in her inbox. Then I did the same to @gardenerian. Sorry pals.

which tumblerino’s did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know? @gallawitchxx and @gardenerian , hence the inboxing. Buuuuut also @heymacy and @heymrspatel and @whatthebodygraspsnot and

@michellemisfit . You all seemed so cool and like authorities on the subject. lolol

first Gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember) The first gallavich fic I ever read was not very good. LOL. But the first one I fell head over heels for was Restoration by @palepinkgoat. I think about it all the time.

first fan art that blew your mind? @steorie art of some kind! Possibly something from Cooperative Gameplay? Or @deedala 's Mickey and Debbie fanart.

fanfic trope that you were sure wasn’t for you but now you low key (or high key) love? AUs. for a long while I refused to read anything but post series fics.

what surprised you most about this fandom? How much WORK people put into this fandom. There are so many people not only writing or making art or gifs etc, but there are people who have databases of deleted fics, fics that align with certain tropes, there are people organizing fan events like it's their job, people who are encouraging newbies, people making prompts lists and running very specific blogs for very specific fandom needs. everyone working together on this thing that we are all a part of. It's just so beautiful. And like yeah, this happens in other fandoms too. But the consistency here is just so lovely. Plus it feels big enough to usually stay pretty fresh, but also small enough that you can really form connections.

moment in the show (or YT vids if you’re one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with Gallavich? I specifically remember watching the scene where Mickey is beating up Ian at the abandoned buildings in like 2013? and thinking "Oh no. I'm never getting over these two." and I took a break for a while but it did ending up being true so far. lol

ian or mickey? Ian Clayton Gallagher is so special to me I have a hard time articulating it. So, Ian. <3

which Gallagher or Milkovich are you? At times I have felt like Lip, Fiona, Mandy, but these days I feel like a Ian/Debbie combo.

I'm not tagging anyone else because I'm so late. <333

#weekly tag wednesday

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breakfastteatime · 2 years ago

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Alrighty friends, here we go, Breakfast Tea's Battle Scars Review. Putting it under the cut because spoilers, and also my levels of spiciness are at maximum. Lots of swears ahead! I don't tend to write book reviews (hi, unpublished author over here) but, uh, this is for science!

For the record, I have NO IDEA how these tie-ins are commissioned. So, for example, I don’t know if the author came up with the plot and it was okayed, or if she was told “do something with A, B, C and D and make it a book” so I appreciate that she probably didn’t have as much freedom as a fic writer.

Also, yes, I did get to the point where I was skimming chunks of the book, so if I'm factually wrong, feel free to correct me, but know that it won't make me like the book any better because my issues are layered and numerous👍

Also also, this is pretty stream-of-consciousy so go with me, okay?

Finally, there’s *one* spoiler that I’m guessing will tie into the game re: Greez.

Okay, let’s GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Plot Summary (warning, I haven't done a good job summarising it hahahahahahahaaa)

The plot is - the crew go to break into a Haxion Brood base because reasons. While they're there they find a bunch of stormtroopers, one of whom is actually Fret, who wants to defect because she's sick of the Empire. Merrin is instantly attracted to her which, okay, sure, fine, to the point of becoming completely giddy around her. Also, Merrin's been struggling with her powers because of all her trauma from Dathomir (a very good a legit reason but, uh, didn't we do that with Cal in the game ANYWAY AHEM) but DON'T WORRY, SHE JUST NEEDS TO HAVE SEX WITH THE RIGHT PURPLE LADY BECAUSE SHE’S ANGRY AT THE EMPIRE TOO AND SEX WILL SOLVE ALL OF MERRIN’S WOES AND LITERALLY ALLOWS HER TO ACCESS HER MAGICK AGAIN WOO! Oops, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Fret then reveals she's not actually a stormtrooper but used that as a disguise to escape because don't you know it, she's got intel that will lead them to something called the Shroud, which will essentially make anyone who has it invisible. Think cloaking technology from Star Trek. That's the best comparison. So, if the rebels have this, they'll be able to undertake sneak attacks, but if the Empire has it, BAD NEWS. ANYWAY, the crew go to the person Fret’s working with who claims he’s anti-Empire too and he’ll use the Shroud for good and everyone agrees they’ll go get the schematics and bring them to him. Off they go and find said Shroud schematics after Merrin totally gets her powers back after receiving some sexual healing (no, really), only to discover the Shroud’s schematics aren’t written down but are instead secure in Fret's oops-not-dead lizard girlfriend Irei's head... and she's vaguely Force-sensitive because OF COURSE SHE FUCKING IS. Oh and the Fifth Brother is here too because he naturally wants the Shroud and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

The Mantis crew are all totally at odds with each other because it turns out despite living and working together for years they’re all after totally different things but have never said anything until now, which would be interesting if Fret wasn't there being all self-insert OC. And anyway, don't worry, the crew gets over it. Oh, and Greez loses an arm protecting Cal and Cere from the Fifth Brother about halfway through.

Uuuuh what else….??? Oh! Right, Fret’s dealer dude. They realise he’s bad, they defeat him. Boom. Can’t be arsed to go into more detail than that (also I was totally falling asleep reading this part, my bad???).

Fret and her ex(?) get back together (kinda??), leave the Mantis after the whole Shroud thing and the Fifth Brother are dealt with, Merrin opts to not go with them and Fret’s like “Oh, yeah, I see what you have with Cal” and Merrin’s like “??? Cal’s like that with everyone.” Interpret that at your discretion.

OH OH OH and Cere totally goes off to find some Jedi circlet thing that is LITERALLY A VIDEOGAME ACCESSORY USED TO BOOST STATS which is (unintentionally??) hilarious but fuck that it’s so completely lost in the rest of it, as is a lot of Cere’s desire to create a legacy for the Jedi.

The Good!

Hooray for LGBTQ+ representation!

Fight scenes are good when the action is happening.

Cere's characterisation is okay???? Like out of all of them, she feels the most in character... kind of???????? I get her motivation, and it feels fairly close to what I think she's gonna be up to in the next game. But her decision to… wait… sorry, this was meant to be positive. ARGH! Alright, let’s move on…

I really like the concept that, since the end of the first game, they’ve all been on the run from the Empire and the Haxion Brood. Excellent concept! I’m guessing Survivor will give us more.

I also really like the concept that the crew all want different things.

SPOILER!!! Greez loses an arm. This scene was pretty good and believable – Greez wants to save Cal and Cere and he makes a terrible sacrifice to do so.

The Everything Else

👎 Wish that LGBTQ+ rep was in a better written book. I do read romance sometimes (or, more accurately, books in which romance occurs) and I am not opposed to instant attraction. But I like it to be a bit less fire-hose-of-HAWTNESS to the face. It basically feels that Merrin has a week-long relationship with someone in which sex solves all her problems??? There's a lot of stuff in this book about why Merrin can't go to her actual friends with this (she's a Nightsister, dammit, and no one can understand how she feels but Fret is angry like Merrin is, therefore instacrush, lust, sex and AAAAARGH), but wouldn’t it be much more narratively satisfying if the people who support her through her troubles are the ones she has long-term relationships with??? Near the end Cal does become this person to her but it feels a bit awkward. Almost like he’s stepping up because Fret left. 👎 Merrin’s struggles here, while absolutely understandable, feel like a rehash of Cal’s entire journey in the game… except Cal sorts his shit out one way, and Merrin shags her way to better mental health. I mean, get yours, Merrin, but it feels like an odd choice, because… 👎 Fret, Merrin's love interest, feels like such an author self-insert it actually made me uncomfortable. Lady, I don't wanna read your fantasies!!!

👎 The plot doesn’t have room to breathe because there’s too much going on. And while I’m here, the Shroud feels completely universe breaking because while the prototype they wind up making is a fake and becomes a bomb, the fact that Irei designed it to hide herself (she’s Force sensitive, remember??!?!?!) means it could potentially work and literally change the Star Wars universe... But Irei’s a total non-entity in the rest of canon sooooooooo this universe breaking macguffin is pointless, making the plot largely pointless??? Or did I miss something when I got to the skimming part? WHATEVER. The Shroud thing… Aaaah, I’ll get back to that later… 👎 There’s too much authorial voice masquerading as the characters. In other words, I didn’t hear the characters, I just heard the author coming through loud and clear. (and okay, yeah, every time I have a character suddenly be British makes me guilty of this too BUT I like to think it’s not as bad as this. HEY! LET ME HAVE MY DELUSIONS ALRIGHT?!). For example, Cal goes off on this whole *thing* about the Fifth Brother's hat, which doesn't feel like him at all. At no point in the game did he go off about Trilla’s helmet (which he compares the Fifth Brother’s hat to) or trade really petty insults. He has his whole bravado thing going on, but not “dude, your hat looks STOOPID.” Seriously, it’s about a page of him being uncharacteristically cocky and sassy (more on Cal’s characterisation later). This authorial voice tendency makes everyone feel the same, especially when you’ll read one thing in Cal’s POV, move onto Greez’s, and Greez will think the exact same thing. There’s very little differentiation in character voice. The banter is BAD. 👎I'm not saying JFO isn't funny because it has some lovely moments (“Wait, do you have feet?”), but they are light touches. This book's 'humour' is like having an anvil dropped on your head. This is the book where subtly came to die until the VERY end where there’s some nice moments with Cal and Merrin… except it’s ruined by Cal CONSTANTLY thinking about how he needs to protect his family… Which brings me onto… 👎 This book is so repetitive. If Cal referred to the others as 'Family' one more time, or someone else said they wanted to make a dent in the Empire’s hull, I'm not sure my e-reader would've survived. I actually counted btw – pg 77 of my ebook edition has the word family on it 7 times. SEVEN TIMES. The word crops up 39 times overall and once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop. The phrase ‘making a dent’ appears 9 times and again, once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop. Oh editor, where are you?

👎 It’s also inconsistent in its storytelling. For instance, there’s a moment where Merrin and Cere go off on a mission together and Merrin reflects on how well they always work together… and then later on she goes off with Fret and is like “It’s so nice to not be alone for a change!!!” And while this is probably in reference to how her and Cal tend to approach missions from different angles (literally – above and below), it’s one of those instances where something here needed editing – e.g. actually Merrin and Cere have never done a mission together, therefore that’s nice, and so when she goes off with Fret she can be like “wow, twice in one day! I could get used to this!” It’s shit like that made the whole thing so frustrating. 👎The structure is bad. Midway through an otherwise good action scene, the POV character will stop to think for so long they would have been killed. It really disrupts the flow of the battle. The pacing just screeches to a halt. It’s the same whenever the characters reminisce on the events of the game, but I’ll come back to that. Stick a pin in it! 👎 The book also does a several days later flashback that wrecks the pacing. We’re at this moment of tension – they’re about to break into a compound but oh no – the access codes from Merrin’s girlfriend don’t work because GASP she lied about abandoning the Empire! Cue tension! Cue drama! Cue… romance in a ‘several days earlier’ flashback. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH. Honestly, poor, poor Cal the first time he gets to use his own room again. Echoes EVERYWHERE. He’s gonna go as red as his hair every time he looks at Merrin and everyone’s gonna get the wrong idea. Sorry, what was my point? OH RIGHT! Pacing! Pacing BAD.

👎 BEEDEE WUN. Get. In. the. Fucking. Bin. 👎 Speaking of our beloved BD, he is here, but he's referred to as 'Cal's droid' or Cal is referred to as his master, which... no. Absofuckinglutely NO. At one point, Merrin (who presumably has known BD for 2-3 years at this point), thinks of BD as Cal’s ‘strange but cute little droid’. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?! They are friends. Best friends. Cere, when thinking of the crew, her family, states there are "four and a half people" on the crew. BD IS NOT HALF A PERSON, AND ALSO OH GOD THE HISTORICAL CONNOTATIONS OF THIS ARE SO BAD, HOW THE HELL DID AN EDITOR NOT PICK UP ON THIS?!?!?!?

👎Cal's characterisation is NOT good. He is so inconsistent outside of I MUST PROTECT MY FAMILY. MY FAMILY, THE CREW OF THE MANTIS, WHO ARE MY FAMILY. I WILL DIE TO PROTECT THEM, MY FAMILY, THE ONLY PEOPLE LEFT TO ME THAT I LOVE, THE MANTIS CREW. Which, for the record, works as a motivator for him, but not when it’s done with all the nuance of a sledgehammer to the knees. When Merrin's busy having sex in the engine room (you know, where Cal sleeps, the guy with psychometry), he is initially naive to the point of stupidity. “Oh golly gosh, Merrin’s sealed the door, I guess that means her powers are coming back!” He was on Bracca for 5 years. I think he knows what goes on behind closed doors. When he realises what's happened, he is both totally blasé (the Jedi don’t have relationships so he’s never thought about it), and also jealous in a way that can be interpreted in one of two ways, depending on your shipping leanings. He's either jealous because Merrin is HIS woman (oh, no, sorry, I mean GIRL. Fucking HATE it when adult women are called girl), or he's jealous because Fret is inserting herself into HIS FAMILY, THE CREW OF THE MANTIS, THE FAMILY HE WILL DIE FOR when she’s a lying liar who lies. He’s *so* petty he refers to Fret as a ‘gal’ which, again, UUUUUUUUUUUGH. Oh, and he's seen an echo revealing Fret to be a liar, but he's not going to disclose it to the others because he doesn’t want to hurt Merrin when she’s finally happy and able to use her magick again and yet Fret might be about to kill his family, the crew of the Mantis, the people Cal will literally die for. Because they’re his family. PICK A MOOD, CAL. Actually, wait, I’m not done with what’s been done to Cal…

His characterisation makes me want to weep. He gets annoyed with Cere for wanting to find a Jedi relic despite... the entire... first game... being... about... this... exact... thing????? I think the author was going for “well, Cere wants to create a legacy for the Jedi so their history is not lost to time!” whereas Cal wants to (say it with me!) ‘put a dent in the Empire’s hull’ which, okay, there’s an interesting contrast, but Cal is someone who is inherently linked with the past so why is *this* the conflict between these two? It’s not quite working for me, probably because it’s just not central enough to the plot. If *this* was what we dug into, it would probably work really well. Unfortunately, we’re not here for that.

Cal also says shit like “What’s the problem here, team?” like he’s in middle management.

👎 The book is set somewhere between the two games and is purposefully vague, which *would* work if these characters *felt* like they'd spent years together instead of the author telling us they have. Relationship-wise, it feels like we're maybe a couple of months out from the game because the book wastes so much of its word count going back over events from the game… which happened years ago at this point! My guess is it was written with people who hadn't played the game in mind, which again just makes the pacing suffer. Plus, we’ve got five people who’ve lived together for years (they’re a family, a crew, they love each other like family, they will DIE FOR EACH OTHER!!!!!!), and yet all of them see their mission differently. Y’all have been at this for YEARS but it’s only now that you realise you’re not united?! This would work if we were closer in time to the original game… but years down the line?! And again, this is a GREAT concept! SO much to work with there… except we’ve got sexy purple lady and lizard lady in the way of what could’ve been an amazing character exploration of CHARACTERS WE KNOW AND LOVE. STICK ANOTHER PIN IN IT!

👎 The author struggles to integrate game mechanics into a n ovel. BD-1 will just randomly hand Cal stims because hey, I guess that’s what he does in the game????????? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 👎 The author hasn’t heard of show, don’t tell. Stop bloody telling me that Cal loves his family and show me – give me a scene where they sit down for a meal together. Give me a scene where Cal sits with Greez after he’s injured. ANYTHING that shows me rather than smashes me over the head with one of the 39 uses of the word family.

👎 Cere really randomly refers to Cal as her Padawan when he’s busy getting his arse handed to him by the Fifth Brother. Cal’s honest, he knows he didn’t beat Trilla because he was stronger than her, but this is YEARS later. Has he not gotten stronger in that time? SIGH. Also, Cal might be mentored by her but he’s not strictly speaking her Padawan? Okay, now I’m just nitpicking… 👎 WAIT, ONE MORE! Cal refers to Master Tapal as Master Jaro. That just irritated me.

How I’d Rewrite It

So, let’s take the pin out and examine the lack of character exploration (except for Merrin who we do get to have a good look at in a weird way). The main issue I have with this book is Fret and Irei get in the way of what could have been a really good character-building piece for the five characters we know and love from the game.

So, wanna know how I’d write it? Simplify and FOCUS:

The Mantis crew are infiltrating a Haxion Brood base because they’ve gotten their hands on a precious Jedi relic that the Empire are also after. While there, Cal and the others find the relic but are attacked by the Brood and the Empire. A defector (Fret) finds them and says the Empire is using the Fifth Brother to hunt for the Shroud’s schematics and its inventor (Irei), who’s in hiding. Fret gives them the name and location of the broker who will pay the crew for retrieving the Shroud and Irei – a man linked to the Rebellion known as Luthen Rael. He’ll also give them Irei’s location. While trying to escape, Fret gets shot and killed by the Brood or the Empire or WHATEVER and the crew feel somewhat obligated to carry on with her mission because the Shroud is a double-edged sword. Cere’s hopes of starting her great Jedi legacy have to be put on hold, Merrin’s still worried about her powers because she’s lost and doesn’t know if she’s getting the vengeance she seeks, Greez thinks finally Cal’s going to stop going for bigger and bigger gambles, Cal’s excited to be doing something really important, and BD-1 is happy to see a new world and meet new people. Also, there’s no breaking into anywhere without him, and they need to move fast.

Great, we’ve got our ticking clock – get the Shroud before the Fifth Brother!

However, because the crew’s been run ragged due to being hunted by the Brood for so long, they’re starting to make mistakes and Cal’s taking bigger and bigger risks with little pay out, so the crew goes into the mission at odds with each other. After BD hacks his way into the systems and locates Irei, Merrin gets her to safety. Cal and Greez get hurt when they go up against the Fifth Brother because Cere, convinced she needs to try and save him from the dark side because he too was once a Jedi like Trilla, tries to save him and it backfires horribly. They all manage to escape and get to the Mantis, fall out because they all want different things. They take the time needed to figure that out and reunite, take Irei to Luthen (they get out just in time when the Fifth Brother comes back again), Cal and Merrin fight him off together because Merrin’s got her powers back because she has a purpose again (working for the Rebellion) and off they go to the next adventure.

Your subplots are essentially the same:

Cal wants to stick it to the Empire and help as many people as he can, while keeping his family safe, however he needs to understand that doing this randomly is essentially pointless (which… okay, I have issues with this too but if I go off on that you’re never getting the next chapter of the Big Fic. I’m working with what I got, friends!!!)

BD-1 is just happy to go wherever Cal goes so long as he gets to scan new stuff and slice new systems!

Cere wants to build and protect the Jedi’s legacy by gathering everything she can of their history. She *is* tiring of the seemingly hopeless battle against the Empire and *wants* to put down roots, and she *needs* to be honest with Cal about this (who, once he got over his “you can’t leave me, Cere!” initial reaction would be absolutely fine with this??? HEY, WORKING WITH WHAT I’VE GOT!)

Merrin wants to regain her powers, and she needs to come to terms with the terrible trauma she experienced, but she can do this not through what is ultimately a fling, but by being honest with Cal, Cere, Greez and BD and working through it with her family. You tie it into the plot by having them working for the Rebellion, which means Merrin finally feels a purpose because it’s through the rebels she sees that she’s not the only one who suffered great loss and, like them, she can do something about it. And hey, maybe she hooks up with Irei in a much subtler and less SEXUAL HEAAAAAAAAAAAALING way because she wants to.

Greez wants to stick with his family, but he needs to be honest with Cal and say if they’re going to keep doing this whole kicking it to the Brood and the Empire, they’ve got to be smarter about it.

Basically, by cutting out all the OC bullshit, you focus on the crew we all know and love from Fallen Order without some rando OC being there to FLY THE MANTIS. Get the FUCK out of there! If I didn’t think Fret was a self-insert before, her getting to fly the Mantis sealed it for me.

There is a GOOD CONCEPT buried in the depths of this book. It’s just, y’know, not to my taste.

Alright, I think that does it for now. PHEW! That feels better ^_^

#battle scars spoilers #the spice must flow

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