#i love complicated family dynamics y'all

[maripr]

As Simon Petrikov enjoyers i don't think we like to acknowledge the canon moments where he inadvertently hurts Marceline because of his fixation with Betty. I think it's super interesting and I would like for F&C to also reference it.

And also that Marceline, tho hurt, has never blamed him for it.

[mad-hunts]

11. what would your muse consider their worst failing?

hello, @absensia, and happy sunday! thank you so much for the ask :D i just want y'all know that i appreciate every single one of these!! but alright, well... to tell you why barton views this particular thing as being his worst failing, i'm going to have to give you some backstory first. so please bear with me while i explain! so, as you may or may not know, barton currently has four kids. two of which are biologically related to him and the other two being adopted. though, back whenever he was first starting off as the dollmaker, barton actually had five kids. and this fifth child he had was named julien.

julien was different from the rest of his siblings, like jack is, in the way that he seemed to have experienced some form of trauma before barton had even adopted him that caused him to be very sensitive in relation to other people's emotions and actually made him act a bit jumpy. but this didn't change the fact that julien was kind of affectionately regarded as ' the best of all of them ' by barton's other kids whenever he was still around; and that was because julien would often try to protect his siblings, even in situations where he could get severely hurt, and he seemed to have this sort - of mellowing affect on barton because of just how likeable of a person he was.

the best way that i could describe what made him so special is that he was SUCH a good listener and had a way of making people feel welcome around him, which may be a bit surprising to hear considering the often dark + terribly gory reputation of the mathis family, but julien also really didn't like what he had to do while he was a part of their family sometimes. so you can imagine that whenever barton lost him to someone as sadistic as the joker... he was beyond devastated. not only because julien was like a figure of light in a family that could be the epitome of overwhelming despair, but because barton was the one who told him to go assist the joker with one of his ' schemes, ' as the man had contracted his help to do a rather grisly act to him — which would be to cut off his face — and julien had never come back from that meeting with him.

and although one could make the argument that barton couldn't have possibly known that that would happen, especially considering that he didn't know the full extent of just how bad the joker was at the time, he still very much blames himself for it. because barton believed that he should've known better in the end and gone there himself instead of treating this job like it'd be like any other one that they'd done, when it really wasn't. now just to give you some more context before i go on; if there's one thing you should know about barton, it's that his relationship with his children are probably his most complicated, so i do believe he does hold some kind of genuine love for them... but it's not a love that anyone can easily understand and one that likely isn't healthy at least half the time either.

but he felt legitimately torn up inside about it even a year later, and today, it's still isn't something that he likes to talk about. it was by far his greatest failure both as a father and as a person in his eyes. plus, knowing the fact that julien died alone and probably in a lot of pain, too? it was so painful for him that barton would swear up and down that it felt akin to someone shooting him right through the heart. so, if you were to ask him what he would do if he could go back in time and change one thing about his past, barton's answer wouldn't be that he would save himself from the cruelty of having to grow up under wesley's roof, or to make it so that his mom didn't have to leave him and he'd actually get to know her, or even to spend more a little more time with marcy... though, trust me, he has thought about all of those things.

it would be that he'd save julien. because he deserved so much better, in his eyes, than to be killed at the age of seventeen whenever he still had his whole life ahead of him and to have his comments about him being scared to go confront the joker completely dismissed. and this is also something that barton hates himself for. how to feels to have your feelings disregarded is something that barton is shocking familiar with, after all, and it's not a good feeling at all. but the fact remains that he can't do anything about his death now. all barton can do is grieve him at night, whenever he has no choice but to be alone with his thoughts, and he looks at past photographs of their entire family that have long since faded. of julien.

[manicpixiefelix]

love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.

Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.

Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.

A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀

----

It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.

Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.

"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."

In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.

The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.

Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.

So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.

A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.

And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.

The first step is submission.

All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.

So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.

Praise.

It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.

Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.

"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.

Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.

And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.

Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.

The second step is acceptance.

Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.

Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.

All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.

Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.

Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.

"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.

"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.

Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.

He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.

When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.

"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.

"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.

So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.

It doesn't take long.

One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -

"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"

You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -

"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.

"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"

"I don't think of you as my dog!"

"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."

It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.

Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.

"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.

"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.

"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."

"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.

"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"

When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.

"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"

This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -

"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."

"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.

"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."

"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.

"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.

"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.

"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.

"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."

Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.

"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.

"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.

You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.

But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.

"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.

He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.

Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.

While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.

"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.

He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.

"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.

"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.

"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.

"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.

Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.

The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.

After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.

Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.

Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.

So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.

But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.

He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.

"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.

"Thanks, it's Ollie's."

"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.

Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.

Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.

In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.

"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.

"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.

The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -

"Good dog."

But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.

On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.

Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.

But he does, of course.

There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.

Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.

Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.

"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.

"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.

"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."

"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."

Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.

"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.

"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.

"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.

Not that Oliver actually minds.

Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.

When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.

Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.

"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."

Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.

"Ollie, what are you -"

"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.

"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.

Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.

"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.

"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.

"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."

"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.

"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.

"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."

"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.

"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.

"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.

"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.

"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.

Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.

"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.

Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -

"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.

"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.

"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.

Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.

"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.

"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."

Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.

"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.

"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.

A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.

And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.

"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.

Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -

"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.

"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.

"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.

Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.

So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.

"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.

You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.

Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.

"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.

"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.

"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"

"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.

"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.

"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.

"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.

"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.

"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.

"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.

"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.

"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.

It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.

"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.

But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."

Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.

"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."

Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.

"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"

"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -

"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."

Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.

Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.

Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.

A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.

Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.

Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.

Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.

"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.

"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.

Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.

Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Changes are sudden, lifestyles are altered, and important questions bubble up but through it all, you have Joel by your side.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, age gap (joel is mid 40’s / reader is late 20’s -early 30’s, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, death of a loved one, mention of life-threatening cancer, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, mentions of therapy, references to time apart from each other, adult content, smut, piv, unprotected piv be safe y'all!), talk of marriage, adult conversations, joel and reader are down bad for each other.

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || masterlist || ko-fi

It’s the perfect spring day: sun shining in a warm but not hot brightness, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as you zip past them, an iced coffee, and the singing figure of Ellie in the passenger seat all make the first half of the day melt away. The amber of your sunglasses allows for everything to be swathed in the honeyed hue and you smile to yourself as you recall a rather heated comment from Joel ‘that every goddamn show feels so creative ‘n artsy when they slap the same tones over Mexico’ and then a softer set of words as he had cuddled closer to you on the couch ‘it’s not really like that, I’ve been there, darlin’, trust me’.

“What’re you all gooey lookin’ for, Sabrosa?” Ellie pauses to catch her breath between songs from the newest pop punk album from a band you first enjoyed in your teenage years. Unable to resist the temptation of adding it to your already laden down basket at the bookstore last week when you and the young girl had ditched Joel to run errands. “Ew, gross, don’t think about my dad while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Oh hush,” You stuck your tongue out at her. Getting a kick out of how casually she sounded. It hadn’t ever been awkward between you two, or her and Sarah despite the six or so years between your birthdays. But then again, Sarah had let you into the secret of the older guy she had started seeing in her graduate program the last time she had been in town visiting… “It’s nothing dirty, just one of his many rants about my choice in television.”

“Lemme guess….oh! The washed-out way they show Mexico, huh? Cause you were watching…oh fuck, what’s that show called…”

“Breaking Bad.” Was the supplied answer from your lips as you turned on the turn signal and began to slow down to turn into the parking lot for the restaurant. It wasn’t operating hours quite yet, too early yet for the dinner crowd Joel preferred to cater to. But Ellie had a shift, and you were dropping her off after classes. She wasn’t in either of the ones you teach, having completed the two semester course you had started off with. But you both had a class that ended around the same time, living so close to the university, she liked being able to walk but then catch a ride with you. Tradition, the word rang in your head. Routine, followed it and you smiled wider at the way your life had fleshed out.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed as she unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned back in her chair. “Man, I really don’t have the energy for work today, but the old man said we have a full reservation list and then open seating at the bar.”

“Gonna be that way for a while, the article about him came out only two months ago. Everyone’s clamoring for a chance to try the ‘bursting flavors’ and ‘exciting combinations’ of the renowned Chef Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s hot shit right now, at least the restaurant is.” Reaching for her coffee in an imitation of you, she sipped at the whip cream, caramel whatever it is she had gotten. Coffee wasn’t her favorite, so she always got the espresso taken out, a glorified milkshake Joel had teased her once. “Proud of him, though. The restaurant was in shambles when he bought it from the previous owners, some shitty Italian place that never cleaned anything.”

“He’s done good.” You quietly agree, sipping from your own overly complicated drink. That was another tradition of yours and hers, to make your way through the menu at the coffee shops on campus, always pausing to get the special of the month. Joel claimed he didn’t understand the need for so much stuff mixed in with coffee, but you caught him stealing sips of yours if he were to come across it unattended around the house or when you were out and about with him and treated yourself.

“There’s my girls.” Joel chimes as you input your code into the gate for the employee parking and round the side of the building. His voice filtering in through the open windows as you pull into a spot and cut the engine. He’s leaned against the back of the building, cigarette in hand. “Was wondering what took you so long.”

“Accident on the main road, had to detour.” You appease as he approaches to open the door for you and pressed a greeting kiss to your cheek as you roll up the windows. He does the same for Ellie as she sidles up beside him for a side hug before trotting off to the door and disappearing through it. He let’s you pluck the lit cigarette from his fingers as you shoulder your bag and close the door. His hand goes around your waist to walk alongside you toward the building.

“As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters. Today’s special is spaghetti all nerano, wanna do some grading here and try a plate?” He takes the smoking roll back from your offered hand and takes the last drag before tossing it into the pale beside the door. Opening it and leading you through it with a hand hovering over your lower back.

“That sounds yummy, I’m starving.” You toss him a smile over your shoulder before greeting everyone with a wave.

It’s well into the third hour of service and you never got the chance to leave once the doors opened. The bar had been struggling, Millie having taken over as manager and Mary trying to appease the picky impatient customers who all want a taste of the raved over menu and a glimpse at the alluring Chef Miller.

Picking up a shaker and twisting a bottle of vodka in your grip, you glance at the ticket that just printed and adjust the amount you free pour into it. Mary had been looked so guilty as she approached you’re the table where you do your work on a regular basis, the question of if you were willing to help out getting drinks started for those waiting on tables barely out of her mouth before you were nodding and cleaning up your stuff. It was now safely tucked away in the office and you were moving at a fast pace behind the bar to keep up with everything. Millie stepped down to let you take the reigns, knowing she would only get in your way. Ellie could be seen picking up and dropping off glasses at the well as often as Millie as she acted as barback.

The restaurant was buzzing, excited conversation and pleasant atmosphere making you remember the tingling high of getting off from a busy shift with a wad of cash tucked into your pocket. Just as you place a strainer over the shaker and begin to pour the contents over six shot glasses the door to the kitchen swings open and Joel walks through. You’re too busy, so you shift the chilled shots to the mat over the well and place the corresponding tickets beside them. Moving onto the next drink, you rinse out the shaker with the star sink in place.

His eyes catch yours through the crowd of people when you look up as Ellie comes up to take the shots and then watching as she delivers them, the sound of the shaker loud in your ear as you hold it over your head. His steps don’t falter as he approaches the table, he was delivering the plate to, but you could see something flash over his face. He’s back behind the door as you move to lodge the shaker open.

The night goes by quickly, taking orders for those lucky enough to snag a spot at the bar but hadn’t been able to make a reservation. Shoving each cash tip into a pint glass for the girls and even taking a few business cards from people interested in hosting parties in the space. You’ll be sure to pass those along to Mary, even if some of them requested you as the bartender. You didn’t mind, missing the atmosphere and good moments you had experienced in the setting. Ellie is taking back the remaining dishes from the last few tables, Millie is out back smoking after helping to clean up the bar top when Joel ambles from the kitchen once again.

He's got his chef’s coat unbuttoned and loose around the shirt underneath, the glint of his belt buckle catching the fairy lights around the bar. His steel curls are slicked back, but you could see the frizz and fluffiness where they rested over the back of his neck. He had been saying he needed a haircut, but you had made a sound in the back of your throat that made him put it off.

His eyes are trained on you as you move the trash cans full of empty bottles to line up beside the drink pick up area. You’re about to return behind the bar with a wink thrown over your shoulder when he snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. He smells amazing, the perfect mix of savory spices, smoke, and Joel.

“Playin’ restaurant, huh? Thought you went home and passed out.” He leans down to kiss your jawline.

“Nah, Mary asked for my help when Millie got swamped.” You breath out, hands coming up to rest on his chest and push should he get a little too enthusiastic in you still being here.

“Not your responsibility.” His eyes hold no real heat or command, you know it’s born from a place of worry, of not wanting you to stretch yourself too thin.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind.” You cradle his cheek in one hand and play with the collar of his open coat with the other. His eyes glance down, the glitter from your lotion catching the light on your neck and chest.

“Hmm, you looked good. Dress looks good on you, shakin’ those drinks and-“

“Dad, holy crap, it was so busy tonight. Some dude tipped me like fifty percent because he was trying to impress his date!” Ellie plops down on a stool with her server’s book. She doesn’t even look up from where she begins to go over the receipts. “Wait until everyone leaves to start doing that or better yet, wait until you’re home to do that.”

“One day you’re gonna meet someone and it’s gonna be hard to keep your hands to yourself.” You only giggle at the typical parent response from Joel. Ellie wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but you were sure she would be with the right person, you’d seen her flirty interactions with girls while out with you and your friends, tagging along for the free drinks and to have safe company. She was pretty smooth if she didn’t get into her head too much, soft touches to shoulders and waists, though she steadfastly refused to dance. With anyone, no matter the setting.

“Gross,” She begins to fill out the printed shift report before organizing the receipts in order and then asks you for the stapler. Detangling yourself from the man, you do make it back behind the bar. That’s when she notices the pint glass. “Holy shit! You made all that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. The restaurant did. Here.” You hand the wad of bills over to Joel. With your own shift report and stapled receipts. He uses two nimble fingers to extract the shift report but leaves the cash in your hand. Frowning, you track the report as it’s tucked into his back pocket along with Ellie’s. Her own cash tips secure in her booklet.

“Also gonna see about getting some of the petty cash from the safe for the hours you worked.” He begins to take the full bags from the trash cans, tying the ends together tight.

“Joel.”

“You worked, you get paid.” He doesn’t look up as he reaches into the bottom for the rolls sitting inside and begins to place new ones over the lips of the plastic.

“I’m your girlfriend. Who used to work here. I was just helping out.”

“Nope, not gonna fly, darlin’. It’s yours.” He slides the empties cans back around the bar for you to put back in their designated places.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Ellie reaches for it and you let her swipe it from your hand. Only for Joel to set her with a look. “Oooor not.” She says as she puts it down atop the clean bar top.

“Joel!”

“Can’t hear you, Sabrosa, gotta make sure the kitchen duties were done.”

“Seriously, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” You quirk an eyebrow at the younger girl, but Millie bounces up and says everyone was going out for a bite at the taco truck parked a few blocks down. They have a spot in a lot that has picnic tables and offer late night service. Ellie takes off, ensuring you she’ll text either you or Joel when she’s back at the townhouse afterwards. She’d been staying the second bedroom there more and more, as you found yourself splitting your time pretty evenly between it and Joel’s. He would join you sometimes, but certain nights either you needed you own space or he did and that was okay.

Sighing, you lock the patron door behind her and turn the sign from open to closed.

As you’re double checking everything is shut down properly, you open the washer to let the last load of glasses air dry, the steam billowing out. Turning when you hear the swing of the kitchen door again, Joel has his chef’s coat tossed over his shoulder and his backpack over the other. His eyes zone in on the cash and then a smirk takes over his face. You turn your attention back to the washer and ensure it’s off before you round the bar top and makes sure it was swept underneath the stools. You’re about to ask him which car you were gonna take home when you spot a crumpled napkin you must’ve missed.

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close. He whispers something about having to scrub the video cameras set up around the dining room before you hear the clink of his belt being undone and feel him move your panties to the side. You throb at the feel of the cooler air circulating around the room, a gasp leaving your lips as he gently runs the head of his cock over your folds, arousal from you both making it such a smooth motion.

As he reaches over your back for something, he fills you up, the stretch of his girth feeling like a reward for the hectic shift completed. But you know the night would’ve ended like this either way.

A moan rips from your chest as he grabs a hold of whatever he had been trying to get, hips flush with yours. He chuckles, pleased with himself before his hands sneak around to cup your breasts as they threaten to spill out from your dress at the prone position. His fingers tuck more bills into your underwear, beneath the straps over your shoulders, into the already full cups to peak out over the swell of your chest. He even tucks one into the mess of your hair thrown up into a clip at the back of your head before his hands secure around your waist and he begins to thrust.

That’s the last memory you have of both smoking and drinking, only a few days before you had anxiously waited for a piece of plastic to tell you your fate. It was now a month since finding out, Joel making sure to go with you to get confirming bloodwork and a full physical. The headaches from missing both finally having abated. Joel on the other hand, he was sneaking cigarettes, you could smell the lingering smoke on him when would come home and you were still up. It didn’t really bother you, knowing he indulged for far longer than you had in the bad habit. But you missed the social aspect of the act, of seeking out the designated spots around campus and chatting, of sitting out on the back patio with Tommy as he enjoyed one on the evenings he stopped by with his own little family for dinner.

But it was all worth it, you mused as you poured yourself a cup of steaming water into what was once your coffee mug. Tea was something you indulged in now, the cupboard filled with the different types you were trying to work your way through to see what would help with the onslaught of nausea and also appealed to your tastebuds. You preferred the fruity ones, just like you did with your cocktails, hence the nickname Ellie had graced you with that stuck.

Jingling keys and heavy footsteps signaled you to Joel’s return, the sun still shining on the calm afternoon. He had been gone when you showed up at his house, a cookout planned for the day. Tommy and Maria had been here an hour, the grill just about ready for the first of many things to be cooked and the pool was sparkling as it awaited the arrival of Sarah and Ellie. You had spent the morning cleaning it of debris and adding a few treatment drops. The whole family getting together. It was good, it was a good feeling being surrounded by them all. You and Maria hitting it off even more over the news of what was to come. Her own child now nearing two, she had given birth while you and Joel were split. But you had sent a care package and visited her in the hospital with her favorite takeout.

It was so domestic, so full a life…it made you wonder why you hadn’t been able to experience it as a child yourself.

“Missed ya, darlin’.” Joel steps up behind you and embraces you. Kissing your temple, you feel the frown mar his lips as you don’t respond. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his chest. He smells like cinnamon and the grill brick he used while closing up the restaurant after a brunch shift and you breathe him in as you press your face into his broad chest.

“Gotta shower, wanna join me?’

“The girls will be here soon.” You hold him tighter, missing your own family even if it had never been the same as his own. Dinner once a month with your own father, no visits offered or initiated, grandparents raising you since you were young. A mother who had passed early due to complications from cancer she hadn’t known she had until she was pregnant with you herself. “Wanna make sure everything is ready for them.”

He peppers kisses into your hair before pulling away and disappearing upstairs.

The afternoon continues, the smell of grilling meat and roasting vegetables lilting into the air alongside ruckus laughter and bad jokes. Everyone is comfortable around the patio and the in the pool, food served and consumed. Just a few bites left of everything, Joel ensuring you that he would heed your cravings and what you felt like you could stomach, not worried about leftovers lately.

“So when do we get to meet the rest of the Sabrosa clan?” Tommy askes around the lip of his beer bottle. He’s across from you at the table, Joel off by the grill as he messes with something he hadn’t let you sneak a peak at.

“Oh, um…you don’t?” Caught off guard, the bite of food falls from your plastic fork frozen halfway to your mouth.

“No siblings or nothin?”

“Um, well-“ Clearing your throat you take the bite and chew it contemplatively. Honesty or the thinly veiled truth? Your mind is working hard, something Maria must hear in her seat beside you at the patio table. She shoots Tommy a look you catch out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep calm so the child in dozing in her arms doesn’t stir. “I’ve got two half-siblings, but we don’t keep in contact much.”

“They gonna be at the wedding?”

“What wedding?” “Oh my god, dad! You proposed and didn’t tell us!” Ellie and Sarah holler from where they’re in the pool, one of them resting on a floating device and the other is practicing her laps to get more comfortable in the water. Joel turns from where he was ensuring the grill was off and brings over the s’mores dip he had just let melt to perfection. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the gooey swirl of marshmallow and dark chocolate, of the rye biscuits he must’ve whipped up at work steaming beside it in a single use tin. Set up with a divider in the middle.

“Haven’t proposed to ‘er yet, quit it.” He sits it down atop a trivet, but no one makes a move to reach for it until he gives the go ahead. But he doesn’t until he’s got one of the dark biscuits covered in the dip and set in front of you. Then it was fair game as the girls begin to swim across the length of the pool, or well Sarah tries to glide her floaty across while Ellie does. Tommy readies one for Maria before making his own, quirking an eyebrow at you as he watches the pull of the dip.

“But your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle, right?” Tommy presses on, not catching onto the awkward way you were shifting in your seat or how you had placed your fork down to rest on the edge of your paper plate. The dessert untouched. But you don’t get to think of an answer before one is flying from your emotionless face.

“Can’t, he’s dead.”

Silence falls over the once happy and jovial backyard, the splash of Sarah slipping from her floating longue echoing.

“Tommy.” Joel’s voice is firm as he pins his brother with a mild glare. Maria is equally unpleased with her husband’s penchant for talking without thinking, not reading the room. He yelps as she kicks his shin underneath the table.

“It’s okay, wasn’t much of a father when he was alive anyway.” You reach for the mocktail you had made a pitcher of for you and the girls to enjoy. No one says anything as you pour yourself another and take a sip from it. Not liking the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, you gather up your nearly empty plate and stack it atop Maria’s to take inside, making more room for the messy dessert. Slinking away, you feel Maria reach out a hand to trail down your arm, comforting you before you’re gone back into the house.

“You dumbfuck.” Ellie mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Joel over his shoulder for her language. But he doesn’t disagree. You do, but it wasn’t his fault. How was Tommy supposed to know he had picked the one subject you had nothing good to say about?

“Shit, I- holy shit.” Tommy’s voice follows you before he yelps a second time as Joel brandishes the still warm tongs from serving biscuits.  

“Way to shove your foot in your mouth, we were havin’ a good time.”

“I didn’t know! I thought she was just quiet about her family not that she didn’t have any.”

“Tommy, you’re the father of my child and my husband but you are seriously so stupid sometimes.”

“Dad, she-she doesn’t have any family?” Sarah is tearing up, affected by the sudden realization of why you never brought anyone around except for a friend every once in a while. She could understand not having a mother, as her own was so distant, only showing up when she needed something or felt lonely in the life she created for herself. But to not have a dad? That was all she knew and she couldn’t fathom how her life would have been without him in it;.

“She’s got us, baby girl.” Joel goes to run a hand over her shoulder and press a kiss to the fluff of her kinky curls as she stands beside the pool set into the ground outside the patio. He wraps the towel she brought out around her and rubs it across her shoulders before lifting his hands. “We’re her family, pretty good deal, huh?”

“Dad….”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”

The laid back vibe from the afternoon returns once everyone piles into the living room to watch the season finale of an admittedly awful reality tv show. But everyone was hooked and harmless bets were made on who would cause the most drama and how things would end. You’re a little subdued, but you make comments along with everyone else and laugh at the absurdity of what happens on the screen.

Stepping out of the bath you had decided to soak in, you startle when you see Joel sat on the small bench in the master bathroom across from the vanity as you pull back the shower curtain. He’s already changed into his sleep pants, his freckled and bronzed chest on display through the steam.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me your dad was passed?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stand in front of him, taking in the way he watches you through the mirror as you press a bead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and wet it before popping it into your mouth. A heavy silence fills the room, tangling with the rose scented steam from the bubble bar you had used. The pink water swirling down the sink a near silent hum.

“It-uh, kinda does. Makes me feel…like a whole wedding would be…”

“You don’t have to ask me. We don’t have to get married if it’s going to be a problem.” Shoving down the worries and residual guilt of being raised in a certain religious culture at the thought of having a child out of wedlock, having a child as a single woman you catch the man’s gaze through the mirror. The burn of embarrassment simmers beneath your skin, shame for feeling such embarrassment sparkling behind it, creating a swirl of emotions you hadn’t wanted to feel this close to bed with an early class. You want to marry him, to experience that with him, to live life together as husband and wife, but it feels perfunctory when you didn’t even believe in the reasoning behind why you felt that way. He’s frowning, his brows knit close together, something off in the depths of his brown eyes.

“It’s not a problem…right?” You see the worry flickering through him, in the way his eyes shift and the way he clenches his fists in his lap. “I just…you know you’re a part of the Millers. Have been since the moment you caught my attention, but baby…I don’t want you to feel lonely if it’s my family and your friends.”

“Are you insinuating because I don’t have a family of my own, I’m somehow missing something?” Anger flared hot and sticky in you, washing out the embarrassment. The heat from your bath making it so much worse and you cross the room to pull the door open. Back at the vanity, you ignore his gaze and rinse out your mouth before moving on to clean and moisturize your face. He’s quiet behind you, knowing he phrased his sentiment wrong and this…this communication was new for you both. Still hard sometimes as you both realize how deep some things run and how different you could be.

“You know I’m not.” The gaze he has trained on you reminds you of the way he would watch you through the kitchen, tensions high as you both couldn’t seem to get your heads out of the dirt and just be honest with each other. A time that had passed, allowing for the present to bloom.

“Then a wedding wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s kind of moot, you haven’t proposed.” You don’t anticipate the slight edge to the words as they leave your lips, but they slice through the air. You feel shame overtake the waning anger, making your face hot underneath your massaging hands. The burn of tears threaten to ruin the routine you just completed and you hiccup as your hands flatten atop the vanity, head hanging between your shoulders. You do not like this, but you have no idea where it’s coming from. It really doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t asked. You know he has the intention to, the agreement of a visit to town hall and then a small party to celebrate. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, simple.

“Hey,” He whispers as he comes up behind you, hands resting over the quick beating of your heart, his naked chest pressed to your back, the damp towel the only thing separating you. But you can feel his own heart between your shoulder blades, strong and sturdy. Grounding you in the way you had explained you preferred when overwhelmed. “I promise I wasn’t trying to upset you, just want you to be comfortable, to have everything you deserve.”

You let him help you to dry off the rest of your body, lotion lovingly applied to your body by his hands before you slip into a nightgown and slip between the sheets beside him. You kiss an apology to his lips, needing him to know that it was just initial panic and not the real way you thought or felt. He accepts it and offers one of his own, lips pressed to your chest, right over your heart before sleep takes ahold of you both.

“I said don’t.” You warned, no humor in your voice. You had tried and failed to put on every one of your pairs of pants, jeans, leggings, and none of them were comfortable. None of them zipped, buttoned, or stretched enough underneath the slight bump that had seemingly blossomed overnight. Joel was sprawled on the bed, working his way to getting up at the late hour. He had been at the restaurant late, later than usual as they had a party stay well after service hours. He had let the staff go on time, ensuring they would get the tip out but not wanting them to have to stay once all the cleaning and side work was done. One of the many things you adored about the man, his willingness to heed situations like that in favor of his staff even if he was gruff and to the point most of the day.

“Didn’t say nothin’, darlin’.” He rumbled from beneath the sheets, tan skin looking deliciously golden paired with the pale pink set you had insisted changing from the white that had previously been curled around the mattress. You had woken up with bad cramps last month, terrified something had happened as you pulled back the covers to find blood spotting the pristine fabric. A quick trip the emergency room as he shared in your panic, albeit in a more controlled way, assured you that spotting was normal during the early months of pregnancy.

“Dress...” You muttered to yourself, hand cradling around the small bump. Joel only hummed, stretching out to alleviate his sore body, thick legs appeared from beneath the fabric. Your eyes traced the long lines of his body through the mirror atop the dresser, drinking in the sight of him and your body began to thrum with arousal. When your eyes roved up the expanse of his broad chest dusted with dark hair to his face, he was smirking at you with an eyebrow arched in a silent question of how long you would ignore his deliberate departure from the bed.

You had all but jumped him when he got home last night, papers you were grading scattered all around you on the couch and coffee table, a Josh Gates show on the television for moral encouragement. He had teased you once about your affinity for the man but you had clapped back with his borderline obsession with Anthony Bourdain, to which he simply said ‘can’t help it darlin’, the man knew his shit’.

The dinner he had brought home had been tossed to the entry way table, as you knelt down to help remove him from his shoes and pants. Mouthing at the line of him through his boxer briefs before he could even get his keys hooked on the mirror over the table. He had been prepared to find you fast asleep, a different kind of tired taking hold of you more and more, almost demanding naps during the day when you got home from campus and right before dinner if you hadn’t worked. But you had sprung up from your spot and welcomed him home, the food forgotten in favor of getting your fill of the man that had been consuming your thoughts. The thought makes his cock fill, twitching underneath the sheets as he recalls your enthusiasm.

He sees the way your eyes dilate at the movement, the hush of his hand skimming down to grip himself.

Suddenly, you’re no longer debating over the clothing flowing from the draws inside the closet or those of the dresser. You peeled the pants you had been fruitlessly trying to zip up and nearly threw yourself at him. He greedily accepts your frantic kisses, starting from his shins and all the way up neck to finally connect with his own. He groans at the taste of coffee you had allowed yourself this morning, his own cup still steaming on the bedside table. His glasses beside it, his cellphone lighting up only to be ignored.

“Does mama need some attention?” He breathes into your open mouth, large palms caressing the exposed skin of your hips. His hands graze your middle, and you shy away from him, self-conscious of the extra jiggle, the stretchmarks from rapid weight fluctuation of your years now accommodating the swell of the beginning signs of the life you two had created together. “Hey, no, c’mere.”

You’re sure he sees the flicker of emotions across your face before you school it into a cool arch of your brow, the playful smirk of your lips. Falling back on bravado that wanes far too quickly these days as your hormones ping pong all over the place. You were just as apt to burst into silent tears as you were to jump him, confusing for you and devasting for him as he tries to read your moods as well as he can. He was hoping to dislodge the habit of you seeking refuge in the townhouse you had gifted Ellie, her own budding relationship prompting her to ask for her own space just as the new stage of your life became known to them. Equal parts of respect for the more tender and tense moments sure to happen and yearning for her own space again.

“Mama needs some new clothes, wanna spoil me?” Your voice is a confident hush, hands reaching forward to urge him to shift closer, both of you on your sides and facing each other.

“Do anythin’ for you, darlin’, you know that.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, tugging you back to him. That seemed to get you to forget your insecurities as he felt you pull him closer, your smaller hands so soft on his chest as they caressed his skin.

“I think I wanna go to that fancy mall, maybe get some pretty underwear that won’t make me feel like a total loser.”

“I’ll take ya anywhere you want, maybe even that big shopping center in Dallas? It’ll be just like the trip we took to Arizona. Could get a hotel, see the sights and just relax. Hear they have a mac and cheese restaurant in the arts district.” He rolls to pin you down, and you move to allow him space between your legs instinctually. Body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck, your chest, he lets his words sink in. The bralette you had put on doing nothing to hide the perk of your nipples. He laps at them through the thin fabric, delighting in the way it makes you arch up into him. You were so sensitive to his touch lately, your body on high alert as your hormones fluctuate erratically.

“That’s a lot, Joel. Shouldn’t we-“ Your hesitant words are cut off by a searing kiss, the press of his skin against yours making it hard to keep your train of thought.

“We should do what we want, darlin’. Wanna get everything sorted to go this weekend?”

Tears are suddenly pitter pattering over the sheets, darkening the fabric where they land after rolling down the sides of your face. He pushes his weight from where it pressed you to the bed, back on your sides and you let him, unable to stem the tears.

“Oh hey, hey it’s okay,” Joel crowds close, the thin fabric separating your bodies as you bury your face in his neck and curl your legs up, knees pressing into his stomach. Hiccups startle you both as you find it suddenly hard to breath through the onslaught of emotions spiking. “Hey now, darlin’, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into his skin, embarrassment flaring up hot in your cheeks and chest. You feel so silly, pulled in too many directions in so quick a succession. “I just…you’re so hot and I’m all bloated and my skin feels all tight and I really want some ice cream.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re happily spooning a sundae into your mouth with a red plastic spoon in the passenger seat of his truck. All the tears and frustration gone from you as you held tight to the treat in your hands with far too many flimsy napkins. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the hand he rests on the inside of the door, trying to keep as much smoke from wafting back into the cab as possible. Errands, today was an errand day and you smiled over at him. Pairs of sunglasses meeting, eyes hidden beneath them. He just leans over to press a kiss to your temple, not wanting to disrupt your enjoyment of the ice cream you literally cried over.

next chapter

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@regalwhovianbrowncoat774

@pazizz

[ultimateshixiongfuckertournament]

THIRD PLACE ROUND - Jiang Cheng vs Wen Kexing

The battle for third place is between Jiang Cheng (shixiong: Wei Wuxian) from Mo Dao Zu Shi and Wen Kexing (shixiong: Zhou Zishu) from Word of Honor

Propaganda under the cut

Wen Kexing:

(okay so the canon part is confusing. cause wenzhou are officially canon in Faraway Wanderers and are censored bromance in Word of Honor. but they're only shixiong/shidi in Word of Honor and not in Faraway Wanderers. so idk what you want to do in regards to the canonicity of their relationship)

I mean Wen Kexing is all over Zhou Zishu from day 1, though he has very complicated emotions surrounding the whole shixiong/shidi element to their relationship, he does eventually declare himself as the second disciple of Shiji Manor and publicly acknowledges Zhou Zishu as his shixiong. anyways if you know anything about Wen Kexing you know how desperately he wants Zhou Zishu, even the censorship couldn't hide the fact that Wen Kexing wants to rail Zhou Zishu to kingdom come

the utter simp that is WKX for his ZZS? No contest. None. None at all.

#WKX now actually fucked his shixiong like pls the entire book/show is about him wanting to get with him

#WKX hands down wanna fck or get fcked by his “Ah-Xu~” from day 1

#y'all have the audacity. as if Wen Kexing did baby trap is shixiong with TWO kids

Jiang Cheng:

Clinged to WWX constantly for 7+ years, wanted to have WWX as his right hand man forever after becoming sect leader, cried after WWX left, cried when he discovered what WWX sacrificed for him, was TORN APART when it got explained to him that if they were more outwardly close knit, WWX might not have died

PROPAGANDA!! to start, i'm still very bitter about how fairy lost the sentient animal poll and i want to win this badly. very very badly. current stats are 50.6 in favour of jc but that's too less of a gap for me. jc should be winning this by a landslide, y'all hear me? anyways. starting with a class act, like the clown i am->

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a few links ( because i'm chengxian trash, as always and i'd love if poll-guy could copy paste them on the og post): one, two, three, four (gif), five, six, seven (gif), eight (thoughts on different wavelengths), the absolute circles of them saving each other, the fucking golden core reveal scene. golden scene reveal part 2, jiang cheng will always forgive wei wuxian

to start with. jiang cheng is literally the picture of "i knew from the moment i met you that i'd spend a lifetime forgiving you".

the earliest dynamic of jiang cheng and wei wuxian is jiang cheng giving away his dogs (the only gift his father has ever given him, btw) because wei wuxian is scared of the dogs. tis only the start of it.

his father very obviously prefers his shixiong over him, his mother berates him for not being as good as wei wuxian and tells him his inheritance is in danger, and his sister (in my opinion) has more care for him (visibly. maybe jiang yanli doesn't show it because jc is an emotionally complicated purple grape, maybe because jc doesn't need it, or wei wuxian is traumatised but that's my opinion). but still. still. Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian. so much. jealousy is like. the most tame response i can think of. and jiang cheng is proud of wei wuxian, okay? he'd believe his big brother if he'd said anything. want proof? well, here you go-> link

to paraphrase the link:

Jiang Cheng had just lost his family, his home, and his very golden core, and his older brother - his brilliant older brother who could fix anything, who could sneak wine into Cloud Recesses and defeat an ancient turtle nearly-god and make Jiang Cheng share a smile when Jiang Cheng’s mother was disappointed and furious at both of them - His big brother smiled and said, “I can fix this.”And Jiang Cheng believed him then, and believed him three months later when Wei Wuxian crawled out of the Burial Mounds (just the second miracle in three months), and believed him every day of the next seventeen(?) years until the pieces were shoved into place for him to see.

also. the circle these two go in protecting each other. (gif set by @sandushengshou), the 'if one of us is to die, then, i beg, let it be me' that they both do for one another in a seemingly neverending loop of sacrifice. via this post a la my lovely @backtoyunmeng

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jiang cheng is a cannonically ruined woman archetype, justified via the countless posts you'll get in the top posts of jiang cheng tag. he keeps chenqing, wwx's flute in perfect condition even when he hates wei wuxian, even when wwx, if only indirectly, has a part in jiang yanli's murder and oof okay someone pointed out to him that he's known to have killed wei wuxian and he almost cries. he absolutely believes, with his whole heart, that wei wuxian lives even when the world is sure he doesnt. and it always read to me like, i'd know if he was dead. he's a part of my soul, so i'd know if he was dead. he can't be dead.

this is getting too long, so, to sum up, some absolute poetry by @jiangchengsjawline

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#JC On The Other Hand Has His Entire Life Shaped By His Shixiong And Ended Up Cast As The Ruined Woman By The End

#jiang cheng though. wasn't able to fuck his shixiong but his shixiong definitely fucked with him

#hello?? the answer is Jiang cheng pls#he's the shixiongfucker or all shixiong fucker you wish you could be as pathetically in love with your shixiong as he is#chengxian

#i do not go here (chengxian) but the propaganda is incredibly correct they are insane abt each other#also sorry jiang cheng ik you're suffering but they are so funny to me#neway VOTE JIANG CHENG FOR CLEAR SKIN

#look I rarely go here#(here being chengxian)#but by GOD their lvoe compels me#they’re tragic and doomed and they love each other without knowing how to say it in words the other would understand#or in words at all because communication??? we don’t know her???

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he didn't even think about sacrificing himself, and consequently his entire bloodline, his sect, pretty much everything that depends on him for his shixiong??????????

is this not convincing->

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#had to vote jc though i have more feelings about chengxian#i think jc should have a huge gege kink

#like. jiang cheng should win the entire tournament hands down period

#jiang cheng#is the only correct answer in my gay little brain#i’m sure everyone else’s shixiong fuckers are great too#but jiang cheng is MY favorite#tumblr polls#mdzs#if chengxian fucked in canon it would make everything about their situation at least 65% less complicated you can’t change my mind

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 39 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 2 | lesson 38 | lesson 40

this was hilarious until i remember that satan is indeed the avatar of wrath and has destroyed the house of lamentations more tines than i can count on both hands. then it got slightly less hilarious, but it's still hilarious

ik we all joke about lucifer being satan's dad bc he technically is but this is PEAK father-son behavior 😭 satan throwing a temper tantrum, no pun intended, over not being able to adopt a cat is one of the funniest things ever actually

y'all know i love me some angst but dear GOD am i happy that we're getting something lighthearted after the emotional rollercoaster that was lesson 38

also we got our room back hehe 🫶🏽

aaaaand now they back to brothers

"nuh uh" "uh huh" DAMN just let him have the cat 😭

shithead lucifer my beloved 🫶🏽 and it's even more heartwarming bc we can see how much he's relaxed and recovered from the incident in cocytus. him smiling and laughing and joking with his brothers freely after the fear of losing them has finally been dissipated has to be a weight off of his shoulders, and a weight off of his brothers' shoulders, too. he's probably been less of himself since the fall, and this is probably more reminiscent of the lucifer from back in the celestial realm

i hc that mammon's familiars/crows just roam around the house freely, so this is even more frustrating for satan bc he's like "well if mammon can have pets, why can't i?"

oh baby :(((

just when i thought we'd gotten away from the angst, i was reminded that we are (i am) indeed on lesson 39 outta 40...ykw at least i was happy for a little bit

10/10 storytelling and writing. i love it when siblings ACTUALLY act like siblings, bc some media doesn't do sibling dynamics justice

granted, solomon isnt their sibling, but lucifer said it once AND doubled down bc he saw that it pissed satan off the first time. the older sibling in me smiled

ik i've said this before but...

lucifer says he hates when his brothers pester him like they don't get it from him 😭 oh no, if it isn't the consequences of your own actions!

now i feel like mammon might be onto something...what if he actually is stronger than lotan? but he doesn't want things to go past empty, playful threats bc hurting lotan would devastate levi, and he adores his little brother too much to do anything that irresponsible. more on this here

the brothers ever 🫶🏽 petty sibling dynamics always get me

satan reusing asmo's phrase after lucifer and solomon used it against him is peak comedy

ADHD TWINS

i can't do long, complicated shit for the life of me without getting sidetracked or overwhelmed

...unless it's these long ass posts

but that's different...kind of

so THAT'S why he was giggling and kicking his feet the whole time?? "hehehe" my ass you sly bitch

also, you can see the amount of pride lucifer feels towards satan just by the way he's acting throughout this entire lesson. he also knew wholeheartedly that satan would, one way or another, find a way to summon the white dragon. he egged satan on and teased him on purpose, which probably made his powers stronger. but i feel like the teasing also was a mask for encouragement

it was obviously still teasing at the heart, but there was a little more to it that reflected how proud lucifer is of his baby brother for coming into his own

also satan initiating the family picture at the end ??? I SOBBED

the lucifer from our timeline would NEVER allow a pet into the house. but the lucifer from our timeline also didn't get to heal the way this lucifer did, so now i'm kinda sad just thinking about that

maybe he thinks having a pet would mean that they're permanently staying in one place? and he still doesn't feel secure enough in his place in the devildom even after all the time he's spent there, even after making a home and a name for himself and his brothers. maybe he considered letting satan get a pet once mc came into the picture, and still toys with the idea, but keeps deciding against it for some internal reason that he won't address

MY WIFE MY BELOVED THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS BACK

they really do invite any and everyone into the family. i love them so much it makes me insane

completely unrelated but i never realized that the kiss sounds are different for each brother ??? is thus just a nightbringer thing or am i just too far removed from the og game

[magnoliabutters]

• TRUST YOURSELF •

pairing: neteyam x augustine (na'vi/avatar oc, she/her)

summary: augustine follows her father’s wishes and travels to the metkayina clan. there, she is reunited with the sully’s.

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; avatar twow spoilers; complicated family dynamics, near death experience, fluffy fluff young love, slow burn, etc.

word count: ~6.8k

• part 1 • eywa’s choice • series •

note: y'all i'm low-key obsessed with avatar rn and i can't get this out of my head. i did a lot of research for this one and included some links if you need it! please note there is canon divergence obvi within this story, as well as both characters being 18 and 19 years old (i.e., 4 years after twow). here is some young love, coming your way! also did not make this gif ♥️

"Augustine," Spider calls out as he rushes into the gardens behind the old military base. "You out here?" Augustine stands from her bed. "Spider!" she says as rushes to the edge of her treehouse beside the greenery. She peers down, hopeful to land her eyes upon him.

She watches as the man, whom she considered as her brother, ran up to the base of the tree. His dirty blonde dreaded hair being held back behind his oxygen mask. She has not seen him in what feels like forever. After he joined the Sully clan, things had changed. Although a spark races in her heart, she is wary. Unsure of who they are to each other now. Is he still her brother? Is she his sister?

"You coming down any time soon?" Spider asks as he places his hands upon his hips with a smirk. Augustine laughs, shaking off her nerves, as she jumps down from the tree. She lands gracefully upon the soft soil. A smile sprawls across her face. "This soon enough?" she asks with amusement in her voice.

Spider rolls his eyes and scoffs as he turns around. "It must be nice to be eight feet tall. That was barely a jump, huh?" he asks. "Aw, are you jealous, brother?" Augustine taunts. He shakes his head while releasing a chuckle. "Norm's calling for you. It's dinner time," he shares as he turns to make his way back to the research buildings. "Race you there," she suggests with a smile.

Augustine's feet dig deeply within the dirt as she pushes off the ground. Spider groans and rushes quickly behind his Na'vi sister. She slows her pace giving him the slightest chance. As she rushes through the airlock chamber, she laughs until he runs right behind her. "Maybe one of these days you'll beat me," she giggles. He rolls his eyes as she grabs hold of her mask. She hooks the gas mask around her neck. The machine hooked onto her shorts.

As she walks in, Augustine is met with the several scientists and doctors that took part in raising her. The love of her family is filled with appreciation. Spider runs off to mess around with Dr. Patel. She grins as she looks over her beautiful family.

"Gusty!" Norman says with open arms. It was always nice to see him in his true form. His shaggy hair and crooked smile always left her hopeful. His avatar did not do him justice when it came to her favorites of his quirks. "Hello papa," she says as she falls into his embrace. "How are you, sweetie?" he asks as he grips hard around her back. Despite him being at least six feet, it is still quite hilarious how much she towers over him.

“Doin' good! I’m surprised to see Spider here,” she mentions quickly as she turns to look his way within his embrace. Her father peers over towards him. His body language uncomfortable. It intrigues her. “Yeah, let’s have some dinner first,” he says as he guides her towards the table. “What’s wrong, dad?” she asks as he lowers his hands. “We can talk about it over dinner,” her father suggests with a shifty smile.

“Hm, I think I want to talk about it now,” Augustine says as she sits down across from him. She stares at him with a skeptical look and a “no bullshit” type of attitude. He meets her stubbornness with laughter. “Oh Ewya, you are just as fiery as your mother,” her father mutters.

Her mother, Ewtoä, was born of the Tayrangi clan - a true Na’vi. Augustine has been told stories of her mother all her life. How strong of a warrior she was. How intelligent she was in leading strategies and maneuvers. How she would stand beside Toruk Makto and often be his right hand in battle, especially after Tsu'tey's death. Toruk Makto would often share how great she would have been in the Jarhead clan he spoke of.

Ewtoä was beautiful, inspirational. Her father met her in the first war against the sky people. They rushed in together on the ground as Toruk Makto and Neyteri attacked from the skies. She helped get her father’s avatar to safety after he had been shot. Soon, Augustine came along. However, she never got to meet her mother. She died in childbirth despite all the doctors' efforts. Father was devastated.

After years had passed, father slipped up and recklessly shared that her mother never wanted children. All in good spirits. He told a story of how she always intended to be a warrior and that being a mother may complicate things. Augustine did not mind being an accident, but she did mind being the one who brought her mother to Ewya. Ewtoä, an incredible warrior, killed by her unwanted child. It ripped a whole in her heart that she has yet to repair.

"Father, please. Why is Spider here?" Augustine places her hand upon his. "Is everything alright?" she asks with worry. Her father sighs as he places his hand atop hers. "I want you to go back with him - to the Metkayina clan," he sheepishly answers. His eyes to the table's surface.

Her brows pushed together as pain rains through her face. "You mean to Toruk Makto," she says with her lips pulled in disgust. She quickly takes her hand from him and stands. Spider and Dr. Patel watch from afar. She could hear Spider mumble, "I knew she wasn't going to take it well."

Augustine growls as she paces back and forth in annoyance. Her ears flatten as she tries to process her father's request. "Hey, no. Not Toruk Makto. Your uncle - Uncle Jake," her father corrects as he stands and places a calm hand upon her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and shakes off his hand. "I'm an alien. They will not accept me," she yells as she throws her four fingers up towards her father. "Sweet girl, you know Na'vi. And they accepted the Sully's," her father attempts to soothe as he reaches out once more but pulls back.

"They lived along the Omatikaya. I haven't lived with the forest people in 5 years. Anything I learned is long gone," Augustine says under her breath. "I mean look at me now! I wear clothes!" Spider bursts into laughter on the other side of the room. She quickly turns and rushes him. He jumps up onto the desk as he defends himself. A hiss seething through his teeth. She stands before him, bent down and ready to pounce. She returns a hiss in his direction. How dare he laugh at her? "Look at you. You still have Na'vi in you," he says with a smile as his body relaxes. She groans as she turns her back towards him.

"Augustine," her father whispers. "You are a great warrior. Just because time has passed does not mean that you will not remember. You still have your ikran." He places a hesitant hand to her cheek. "I haven't seen Nei in so long. She will be angry, as she should," she mumbles under her breath as she attempts to pull away.

"The sky people are going to come back. The avatars will be back." She leans into his palm. "I want you to be able to protect yourself," he mutters. "Gusty, I need you to be safe." She whines, "I am safe here. You brought me here to be safe after the sky people came the second time!" He shakes his head, as he guides her into a hug. "You aren't, sweet girl," he whispers against her cheek. She pulls away as tears flood her eyes. "I can't keep you safe anymore."

Augustine looks down as the tears fall from her cheeks. "I will go," she whispers with a nod. "Thank you," her father says was he sighs in relief. "When?" she asks with a crack to her voice. "After dinner, Gus," Spider replies quietly as he steps down from the table. She turns towards him and winces. "After dinner," she repeats as she slowly sits on the chair.

The dinner was silent and solemn. After their meal, Augustine rushes towards her home. She packs her favorite clothes from when she was with the tree people, as well as her favorite memories. The makeshift arrow that her father made her when she was a child. The flying visor that her mother wore into all her battles. "You don't want to bring your human clothes?" Spider asks with a laugh. She turns towards him and playfully pushes against his chest with a chuckle. "I don't want to look more like an alien than I already am," she mutters with insecurity. "Kiri and Lo'ak have four fingers. You will never be alone. Never again," he says with a sunken smile. "Thank you, brother," she says.

The trip to the reefs was long. For some reason, the journey was unable to wait until morning. The SA-2 fearlessly flew through the night sky. The cool air blows Augustine's hair aside and continues to fly right into her face. Spider holds back laughs as he watches her struggle. She forgot about the chill in the air with her clothes. She catches glimpses of her father watching her. His eyes water as he sniffles against the rushing wind. Her heart aches for him, but she knows that this is what he wants.

Finally, as the sun rises over the horizon, the vehicle lands atop the sanded surface. She takes in sharp breaths of air, attempting to calm herself. The nerves sending painful shocks throughout her body. Her eyes are fixed upon her hands, as they rest between squeezed thighs. Would the Metkayina accept her? Would Kiri, Lo'ak, Neteyam, Tuk remember her? It has been so long.

Spider quickly jumps off the SA-2 and rushes towards a blue form. Augustine notices the sweet smile and quickly recognizes her childhood friend, Kiri. Excitement bursts through her chest. She has not seen her since she was fourteen years old. She continues to watch as her arms wrap around Spider. They hold in an embrace that leaves her mind reeling. Spider and Kiri? she thinks. She watches as the two smile and rush off towards the pods. A part of her heart hurts as Kiri did not greet her.

"Gusty," her father says as he comes into view. He holds his hand out. Augustine grabs hold of him as she steps outside the vehicle. She hooks her backpack over her shoulder. "We have to say goodbye," he says as he holds back a sob. Her thoughts disperse as she immediately looks at her father. "Father, I-," she starts as tears stream down her cheeks. "It's okay, sweet girl," he says as he wipes away her tears. "You will be safe here."

"Norm," a booming voice came from behind her. Father turns, wiping away his own tears. "Sully," he says with higher affect as he opens his arms for an embrace. Augustine recognizes the man as Toruk Makto. She immediately gestures a greeting as he looks her way. His hardened face gazes deep into her soul. "Augustine," he says with a nod and returns the gesture. "Toruk Makto," she responds with a quick gulp.

He laughs as he puts a firm hand on her father's shoulder. "No one's called me that in years," he smiles. "You can call me Jake." He places his hand out for what she recognizes as a handshake. She learned of a handshake from father, but never had the opportunity to do so. She hesitantly extends her hand and feels Jake’s fingers wrap around her’s. He shakes her hand and lets go immediately. She is not sure how she feels about the interaction. Jake smiles. “You've grown so much since I last saw you,” he happily states as he looks over her. She recognizes Neytiri gracefully joining at his side. An involuntary smile grows upon her face.

Augustine's father comes back into view. “I see you,” her father says as he gestures towards her. His hands tightly gripping onto hers. She nods and clears her throat. “I see you, papa,” she replies as she pulls him into a hug. “I love you,” he mumbles against her ear. “I love you. Please come back for me,” she whimpers in his arms. “I will. I cannot wait to see the wonderful, strong warrior you were always meant to be,” he smiles as he pulls away. “Just like your mother.” She nods, holding back tears. “Yes, father.” And with that, her father got back onto the SA-2. With tears in her eyes, she watches as the pilot pulls away. Her father waving goodbye until he was out of sight.

Augustine feels a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “Augustine,” she hears a sweet voice say. She turns to see Neytiri, someone whom she loves greatly. A soft smile grows upon her face. Her brows slightly push together in concern. “We welcome you to our home, Augustine," she says as she places a hand to her chest. She gestures a welcome as she bows. "I see you, Neytiri. Thank you for your welcome," she beams. "May I hug you?" she asks with a smile. They both happily embrace each other.

As they release, Neytiri walks around her with a smirk. She scans her body, brushing her hand through her long straight locks. “Lor,” she says. Augustine blushes as she recognizes the Na'vi word for beautiful. “How was your ride over?” Jake asks as he wraps his arm around his mate's. “Windy,” she answers with a chuckle. The two laugh alongside her. Their amusement seems genuine, but she remains nervous.

“How's your Na'vi?” he asks as he guides the trio towards the pods. "I never stopped speaking it," she answers as she gracefully switches to the Na'vi language. She never had the option to not practice the language. Her father loved it greatly.

With Jake’s direction, Augustine walks through the lands of the Metkayina. She was not able to notice its beauty before as she was so focused on her father’s departure. She remembers that she has never once been more than an hour or two away from her father. Yet, now her father travels farther and farther from where she stands. She tries to get the thought from her mind, but feels a tightness in her chest as she struggles to maintain her breath.

The water is a shade of greenish blue that she is not familiar with. Lighter, more calm. The ground beneath her feet soft and malleable. She can feel it’s warmth through her toes. The sun pleasant against her skin. She notes the other Na’vi, the sea reef people. Their skin matching the ocean’s color. Their hair curlier and thick. They are beautiful. Their faces are oval and sweet. Their tails thick, resembling the fish she has seen in the forest’s ponds.

They watch her. Their eyes baring holes deep within her skin. She could not discern if they were interested or if they were disapproving. As she peers through the crowds, she begins to worry about her Na'vi fluency. Does she remember? Does she remember the Na'vi people's traditions? Her people's? She continues follow along the Sully leaders until they approach a pod. “Everyone’s been so excited to see you,” Jake says with a genuine smile. He walks through the threshold and gestures for her to enter.

“Everyone?” Augustine mutters to herself as she bends down to walk into the space. The first thing she sees, or feels, is Kiri rushing towards her with a hug. She feels happiness, something she has yet to feel for some time. “Gus, it’s been so long!” she exclaims. She and Kiri have had a special bond since birth. After all, they are both heavily inspired by Dr. Grace Augustine. “Kiri, I’ve missed you so much,” she says with a grin as she pulls away. Her hands still gently holding her forearms. “I’ve missed you so much!” Kiri smiles as she pulls her in once more for a stronger embrace.

“Hey, move along, sis. Don’t hold her up,” a boy says as he pushes his arm between the two girls. “Lo’ak,” Augustine smirks as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Gusty,” he chuckles as he wraps his arms at her back. “Where have you been, girl?” he asks. “Where have you been? Last I checked, you were the one who left,” she taunts as her brows raise. He laughs as he playfully punches her shoulder and steps away.

"Augustine," she hears a familiar comforting voice call. She looks up to note Neteyam's large golden eyes. He looks the same as she remembers. However, he now proudly wears a tattoo upon his right shoulder of a fish found in the forest lands. "Neteyam," she answers with a nod. He smiles and stands beside Lo'ak. Things have always been rather odd between Neteyam and Augustine. They have never spent time alone together and only in a group with each other’s siblings. She did not expect anything more from the eldest of the Sully's.

A small figure rushes from the other side of the tent. “Auggie!” she yelps. She bounces and smirks as she crashes into Augustine's torso. "Tuk?" she asks in surprise. She places her hands upon her shoulders, placing some space between their two bodies. "You've gotten so tall!" The Sully clan bursts into laughter as Tuk blushes. "You are so beautiful, little one," she shares as she pinches her round cheeks. Neytiri and Kiri smile in the back as their hands collide.

She cannot explain the amount of happiness rushing through her body. The people she has loved so much remember her. Remember her despite the many years that have passed. Her greatest fear is just that - fear. No longer having the possibility of being fact. "I've missed you all," she shares as she looks over the family. They return smiles her way. She notes a stranger beside Lo'ak.

"And who is this?" Augustine asks curiously as she gestures a welcome towards the girl. Her skin matches that of the sea. Her hair curly and long. She was gorgeous. Lo'ak smiles as he steps forward. "This is Tsireya, my-" he introduces. "Reya," she says as she returns a welcoming gesture. "It is wonderful to meet you, Reya," she replies with a grin. She is elated to see Lo'ak so happy.

"Let's eat," Jake announces as he rubs his hands together. The family sits down as they laugh over a delicious meal. "What have you been doing for the last couple years?" Lo'ak asks between bites. Augustine laughs as she bumps against Kiri's happy shoulder. "I've been studying under my father. Learning the human, I mean - sky people's medicinal ways," she shares. "A healer," Neytiri beams proudly as she nods towards her. "Yes, a healer," she agrees. "I had a few more years to learn," she mumbles on. Her smile falls as she realizes that she may never return to her studies.

"My mother is the healer of the Metkayina," Reya shares with a genuine smile. "Yes, Ronal the Tsahik," Kiri added. "She saved me once, you know?" Augustine turns towards her in shock. "What have you been doing that you may need a Tsahik?" she asks with worry. Kiri laughs with her siblings as Neytiri and Jake eat with emotionless expressions.

"Remember when Norm came to visit us?" Lo'ak asks with amusement. "Yes," she inquires. "I remember getting into a huge fight with my dad because he wouldn't let me go with him." Neteyam smiles as he drags his words, "He was coming to heal Kiri." Augustine turns towards her once again with wide eyes. "Kiri! It was that bad? Are you okay?" she asks as she pulls at her arms, analyzing her body. "Yes, yes, I am fine, Gusty," she answers with a giggle. "Thank Eywa," Neytiri and Augustine say in unison.

After much time laughing and reminiscing over childhood stories, Jake gathers the clan's attention. "Augustine, you are here to recall your training as an Omatikaya warrior. You will also train as a Metkayina," Jake announces. Led by Neytiri, the Sully's click their tongues and make sharp encouraging and excited sounds. The sounds she missed dearly. "Neteyam will teach you the way," he adds. Neteyam's head raises. His brows push together in confusion. He must not have been aware she notes. "Yes, sir,” he says in a quiet tone. His chin pinned to his chest as he looks down. Almost like he was a nantang submissive to his alpha. Underneath his obedience, she could sense annoyance and anger.

Augustine's brows furrow as she looks down at her legs. She swallows as she feels her first pain within the ocean's islands. "Let's get some sleep. We're starting early tomorrow," Jake directs as he stands. He grabs hold of Neytiri's hand, supporting her as she raises. The Sully's stand promptly and move to their designated beds. Lo'ak holds both Reya's hands as he whispers his gentle goodbyes.

Augustine lays in her bed, snuggling up on the netting above the warm salty seas. As silence fills the home, she struggles to keep her mind from her family, from her home, from her father. She holds back sobs as she curls tighter into herself. Tears stream down her face. "I will make you proud, father," she whispers to herself before falling asleep.

"Wake up, Augustine," she feels a gentle hand upon her shoulder. She turns to see Neteyam kneeling beside where she rests. She feels the netting sink beneath his weight. "I'm getting up," she murmurs. "Now," he says sternly. He abruptly raises from the floor. Enough to shake her as she remains on her side. She turns to watch him walk away as she pulls her lip. Somehow she has annoyed the eldest of the Sully's. She could not even make it a single day.

As she stands, Augustine stumbles on her feet atop the netting. She quickly maintains her balance as she opens her arms to the side. She smiles, proud that she did not fall. As she looks up, she notices Neteyam peering back at her with a blank stare. He rolls his eyes before walking out the pod’s entrance. She shakes her head and grumpily follows behind him. She does not remember him being so pissy.

He leads her through the different families’ pods. She smiles as she watches mothers nuzzle against their little ones, siblings play fighting, families enjoying a meal. It reminds her of her own childhood and spending time with the growing Sully clan when she was barely ten.

“Hurry,” Neteyam says as he grabs hold of her wrist. The grasp is not tight or painful but Augustine did not enjoy being touched. She quickly pulls her hand from him, giving him a stare. How dare he think he has the right to touch her after being so rude to her? He peers back at her. His face showing a hurt expression that confused her. He gestures for her to follow along as he quickens his step.

Neteyam leads her to the marketplace. It is bustling with Na’vi. It puts a huge smile upon her face. She smells in the delicious food cooking. She listens to the beautiful music, filled with pronounced drums. She closes her eyes to take it all in, all her senses but sight. She has missed this. Every fiber of her being missed her people. She understood why father ripped her away from them then. Just as she understands why he ripped her away from him now.

As she slowly opens her eyes, Augustine notes several Na’vi watching her. Looking around, she recognizes a variety of faces - disgust, interest, annoyance. That is when she catches Neteyam’s eyes. For once, they seem welcoming. Like he had been staring at her the entire time. Not with disgust, interest, or annoyance. What was it?

Once their eyes met, that welcome disappeared and was replaced with annoyance again. “Let’s go, Augustine,” he says firmly as he runs off past the market. She awkwardly smiles as she looks around once more. She clears her throat and runs after him.

Neteyam leads her to a secluded beach away from the bustling crowds. She watches as he walks into the ocean. The water hitting his ankles as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He must enjoy the water, she thinks to herself. “The first thing you need to learn is how to breathe,” he begins as he gestures for her to join him. “Good thing I already know how to do that,” she laughs to herself. He clearly is not amused.

Augustine quickly joins him in the ocean. She feels the warm water hit her shins. She wiggles her toes into the sand. She smiles as she realizes she enjoys the water too. He walks in deeper without looking back at her. She instinctually follows him. He then yells out a call, similar to those when one calls upon their ikran.

Suddenly, a dark mass rushes through the water. Panic floods Augustine’s chest. She drops down into a crouch, the water now at her knees. Her ears fall back and she hisses as her fists raise. Neteyam begins to laugh hysterically, practically falling over into the water. She slowly raises in confusion as the mass floats beside him.

“Are you ready, warrior princess?” He asks with chuckles interrupting his words. She rolls her eyes as she walks closer. She notices it’s beauty, it’s soft eyes and quick movements. “This is ilu,” he says as he smooths his hand over the mass. His tone now calm and serious. She hesitantly follows his lead and touches it. It is slimy under her touch but so soft.

“It is like Pa’li,” Neteyam adds as he reaches for his tswin. He swiftly makes a tsaheylu. His pupils widen as he holds tighter against his ilu. He breathes out, alongside the beautiful creature. “Come,” he gestures for Augustine to get on top. “I’ll go behind you,” she mutters under her breath.

“Trust me, she is quite fast. You will want to be in front so you are not thrown off,” he says. “Unless the warrior princess has something to prove?” he taunts with a raise of his brow. “I have nothing to prove to you, Neteyam,” she says sternly as she kicks her leg over the ilu’s body. He scoffs as he gets on behind her. His arms wrap around her to hold the notch in front. She holds onto a lower notch. She feels the warmth of his chest on her back.

Neteyam pulls down his visor. He says, “If you need air, just tap my hand.” In surprise, she tries to turn around and knocks her head back into his chin. “Oh, sorry,” she winces. He shakes off the pain with a sigh. “We are going under the water with ilu?” she asks hesitantly. “Yes, take a deep breath,” he says as he slowly takes in air. She immediately imitates him to take in as much air as she can. He nods and leans forward, prompting her to lean forward as well.

The ilu dives underneath the ocean’s surface. Augustine feels the speed of the water through her face and hair. Neteyam is smacked with a face full of hair due to high speeds. Her eyes flutter as they struggle to remain open. But, oh Eywa, what she sees? She wishes she could see it for the first time over and over again.

The reefs are colors of purple, blue, pink, and yellow. It’s vibrancy reminds her of home and the forests surrounding it. Whether her body wants to or not, Augustine’s eyes widen as they swim over a large vast of oceanic space. She can no longer see the ground. She smiles at the sight of gorgeous creatures she has never seen before. Her grin grows as she watches some creatures flash like twinkling lights. She could not help but think of and thank Ewya.

But suddenly her body begins to panic. Her chest tightens and constricts. Nerves and electric shock run through her veins. She needs air. Augustine taps Neteyam’s hand. He immediately brushes her off and gestures for her to stay down. She gestures “no” and smacks his hand again. She could feel him shaking his head “no” as he continues forward.

The stress of her body going into survival mode is incredibly painful. She is desperate to make it stop. She digs her nails into one of his hands. He pulls back as he winces. She lets go of her notch and swims up. Due to the ilu’s speed, she tumbles behind in its current. She struggles to find which way is up as she begins to feel her heart beat in her ears.

Finally, she swims up and breaches the water. The air sucked in burns her lungs. She struggles to get another breath. Neteyam appears from the ocean atop his ilu. “What the hell was that?” he asks, annoyed. “What?!” she yells breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, Neteyam! Don’t roll your eyes at me again. You were trying to kill me,” she utters. Anger replaces the pain in her body.

“You were fine. You had a few more minutes,” he whispers under his breath. “You know what? I’m done,” she says as she begins to swim back to the shore. “Oh common, Augustine,” he whines. “Don’t be like that.” As she paddles forward, she lifts her hand to flip him off. She could hear a grunt and rushing water.

“Augustine, we can’t stop now,” Neteyam says as his ilu swims beside her. She receives comfort from feeling the ground. Her hair sticks against her back, chest, and neck. “And why is that, Neteyam? It’s not like you wanted to train me. You’ve been acting like a dick this entire time,” she says as she crosses her arms on her chest.

He growls in annoyance as he shakes his head. He takes a breath and looks back at her. “I can’t fail my dad,” he mumbles. His energy completely shifts as his eyes meet the ocean waves. “I’m still not sure how that explains why you’ve been acting like a dick?” she asks with a raise of his brow.

His face deadpans as he stares her way. “I had plans,” he whines. “I was going to hunt with the greatest warriors today.” He splashes the water away from the pairing. Now this is the Neteyam that she remembers. Always “woe is me” and focused on the responsibilities expected of him by his family. “This was the first time I have been invited since I received my rites,” he mutters. “He knew how important this is to me.” He takes a breath. “But it is not a priority to the family.”

Augustine watches over him as his body language loudly displays defeat. “I am sorry I have been a ‘dick’,” he says with hand quotations. “I am sorry that you weren’t able to go on the hunt,” she genuinely shares. He nods and mumbles, “Thanks.”

She watches, confused, as he sighs and smiles. “Should we continue?” he asks. “Um, no. It’s your turn again,” she demands. He creates his own mixture of scoffing and laughing. “My turn to what?” he asks amusingly. “You have another thing to apologize for,” she replies with her hand gesturing out in annoyance. “What?” he smirks. “You just tried to kill me!” she yells.

“I did not try to kill you,” Neteyam answers with a taunting singsong voice. “Then what the hell was that?” she asks in another yell. He snorts at her reaction. “I wanted to see how long you could hold your breath. To see where we are starting,” he chuckles. “Okay well, why would you tell me to tap on your hand when I need air and not let me get air?” she asks as she splashes water towards him.

“Hey!” he laughs. “I knew you could hold out a little longer.” Augustine huffs as she resumes her walk towards shore. “Okay, okay, Augustine,” he pleads. “Part of it was that I knew you could hold your breath a bit longer, but the other part was for you to feel your body underwater.”

Neteyam climbs off of his ilu as he walks towards her. He flicks his visor up gracefully. She watches him with suspicious eyes. “How your body tells - screams for air,” he says. “When to trust yourself.” He places his hand upon her chest. He places his other to his own. His palm warm and comforting. She surprisingly does not want him to leave. “The first signs of when you may need air.” He looks up, finally noticing his hand’s placement. He quickly pulls from her.

“It hurt,” Augustine shares as her eyes peer down at his hand by his side. Neteyam watches her with a hurt glance and furrowed brows. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispers to her. “Finally, an apology,” she murmurs back with a growing smile. He puffs out air as he pulls away from the intimate moment. “Can we continue now?” he asks with a nod towards the ocean.

Augustine shrugs and abruptly runs towards his ilu. She laughs as she hears Neteyam running behind her. He splashes all along the way as she hops on and grabs hold of a notch. As he sits behind her, he chuckles to himself. “Where did you even learn the word, ‘dick?’” he asks. “Kiri,” she smiles back towards him. “Of course you did,” he grumbles as he pulls down his visor.

After hours of training in the blue green oceans, Augustine was able to extend her underwater diving for another minute. She hates to admit it but Neteyam is quite the teacher. She has to continue practicing but she learned deep breathing comes from the belly and not the chest.

She flutters her legs as she floats face down on the surface of the water. Neteyam points to each new sea creature and whispers their name into her ear. She wants to know more. She wants to know everything. She catches herself jealous of the Sully’s. That they have had four years of this beauty, while she had five living in the old military compound.

Augustine hates to admit it, but she had forgotten how beautiful Ewya was. She was able to appreciate the All-Mother in the surrounding trees, bushes, flowers. However, she rarely saw Ewya’s creatures. To see the beauty in the moving and living forest. She is thankful for her time in the forest. She is thankful for her time now in the ocean.

Neteyam began to trust her a bit more with every passing hour. He provides her more space as they both dive deeper into the ocean. Their explorations remain individual, but parallel. Only small shared looks here and there past the sun rays within the clear blue water.

A fish caught Augustine’s eye. It is thin, like a wall. Eyes on either side, like a Pa’li. It is pale white, like the ocean floor. She has not seen it before. She looks to find Neteyam, hoping he may know it’s name. His back is turned towards her as he dives deeper. She peers back down at the creature as it begins to swim away. She wants to see more.

She quickly breaches the water. She takes a deep breath from her stomach and submerges. She gracefully swims towards the fish, leaving enough space to just observe and not disturb. The fish reminds her of something but she could not put her finger on it. It is swift as it moves through the water. It leaves little ripples behind its fins. They are so strong that she can feel them from off in the distance.

The fish sneaks into a large pink and red colored coral reef. The opening just as thin as it. Augustine makes a face in frustration. She is not ready to say goodbye to this gift from Ewya. She swims around the reef to find another opening. All she needs is a small space between the corals, but they are so dense. She just wants to see - to learn more.

She continues to swim around the creature’s home, hoping for a mere glimpse. She feels tingles atop her skull. Her body’s earliest sign, communicating for a breath of air. Yet, she is determined. Trust yourself, she thinks of Neteyam’s words. A little bit more. She flutters her feet, attempting to make as little waves as possible.

Finally, Augustine sees it. A smile grows upon her face. She watches as the thin creature curls around in its secluded space within the coral. Miniature versions of it circle around the space. A mother and her family. She swims closer to the coral. Her hands carefully placed against its sharp edges. Ewya is beautiful. She is lucky to see her again in these creatures.

She begins to feel lightheaded. Her body’s second sign. She will not ignore it this time. With a sweet smile, she pulls away from the gorgeous underwater structure. Her face looks up as she begins to kick the water below her. Happiness fills her. She wishes for nothing more than to experience this day once more.

As her hands almost reach the surface, Augustine feels a pain in her back side. She turns to realize that the bush of her tail had been caught between the grooves of the coral. She swims back quickly to separate herself. Only to realize that the thick bits of her hair were puzzlingly tangled deep within the corals.

She begins to panic. Her chest tightens greatly. She tries to clear her head as she focuses on the complex mystery before her. She tries to untangle. She tries to pull. She feels the pain with each tug. One last brutal tug opens her mouth as she attempts to scream. The last of her breath gone. Now, it is time to panic. She pulls harder and harder. She watches as blood floats above her tail. The pain is unbearable. Not anything she would have expected. Not an agony she has ever experienced before.

She feels pain bubble to her scalp. The third sign. She gives it one last tug, giving all of her effort. She knows this might be her last chance. Luckily, she is free. The red liquid floating through the water. Pushing through the pain of her tail, the pain of her body, she pushes once again. Pushing to get to the surface. She prepares herself for the pain of the large gasp of air once breaching.

Augustine kicks and kicks and … her body stops. It has used all of its energy. She watches as her body lays just a few meters away from the surface. Her body has given up, yet her mind still screams. She screams for a breath. Then the distance between the air and water grew larger. Her lightheadedness increased. Before she knew it, she fell asleep.

Augustine chokes on the sea water. As she struggles to cough up the liquid in her lungs, her hands involuntarily grip beneath her. She feels the warmth of the grains in her palms. Like a wave, she begins to feel her senses return. She hears her name called repeatedly. She sees Neteyam above her with worried eyes. She feels his braids tickle her chin as he floats directly over her.

“Augustine!” he yells as he places his hands onto her cheeks. She takes in the breath of air she had imagined. It hurts, like she imagined. With a few more coughs, she raises. He helps her up and pins the side of her face to his chest. “Neteyam,” she whispers through pained wind pipes. “Thank you, Ewya,” he murmurs under his breath as he rocks both their bodies.

He abruptly pulls her away to stare into her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks with worry rippled throughout his face. “Yes,” she whispers. “Are you sure?” he asks hastily. His fingers furiously pushing away the wet hair in her face. “Yes, I am sure,” she says louder, despite the pain in her throat.

Augustine raises her eyes to Neteyam’s once again. The worry is still clear in his face as his hands smush her cheeks. His eyes rapidly switch between her own. “I thought I lost you,” he mumbles underneath his breath. She watches him with confused eyes. Her mind remains foggy. She attempts to grasp onto reality by placing her hand upon his, as it cups her cheek.

His eyes move to different aspects of her face. She wonders if he is looking for other areas where she may be hurt. His gaze falls upon her lips. Slowly, he leans towards her. Before she is able to realize what is happening, he presses his lips upon her’s. The warmth of his soft lips against her mouth is another memory she wishes she could experience again. She leans into his embrace. Her hand gripping onto his.

Neteyam pulls away. His eyes fall to the sand, as his hands lower. Despite the near death experiences, Augustine wants nothing more than to repeat today’s first experiences.

note: whatcha think? I hope you liked it! let me know if you want to see a part two! comment if you'd like to join the taglist ♥️

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 23

Howdy y'all!

If you're new here this is every new (to me) fic I read this week and some of my silly lil thoughts about them.

I did some catching up on series this week and also did some writing so I've only got 12 fics for you this week! I read a lot of dark shit this week, but that's October for ya. There's still some sweetness in here somewhere if you aren't into dark stuff and I've made sure to mark everything appropriately (I think).

As always you can find all my previous fic recs here.

Recs below the Pedros!

Apple - a Frankie/Santi/Will one shot by @romana-after-dark

You are married to Santi and you have a CNC kink he very happily obliges. You set up a thing where Santi, Will, and Frankie pretend to be home invaders and they gangbang you. Stuff goes a lil sideways and it ends up being NC/DC. This was wonderfully unsettling. I love how there's this strand of believability that they don't intentionally overstep her boundaries. It's dark and scary and feels very real.

sam and diane, eat your heart out a Marcus Pike one shot by @chronically-ghosted

You've been working with Marcus for a while and finally wrapped up the case you were on. You've almost given up ever getting what you want with him when finally!! You both admit your feelings for each other. Cue steamy office make out sesh with thigh riding. I loved the will they won't they shit in the beginning. The frustration makes the pay off so good.

i am touchin', i am grabbin', everything I can't be havin' - a Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

You show up at the doorstep of your long time but estranged family friend Dieter Bravo, soaking wet and with nowhere else to go. You've known him so long you call him Uncle Dee, no I'm not kidding. I almost didn't click on this bc like UNCLE?? But he's not really your uncle and I cannot express enough how fucking hot this was. Like Dieter is just so fucking good this OH MY GOD. If you love Dieter, read this. You'll love it.

Recovery Road - a Dieter series by @chronically-ghosted

Dieter finally gets his shit together, he's clean and married and working on a new project. His costar (you) is a cunt fr. You're on drugs, you're a brat, and you're a mess. And Dieter can't stay away from you. When his wife gets fed up with him and humiliates him in public, you're there to catch him... and ruin his sobriety, his marriage, and maybe everything else. I have a couple chapters left of this but OH MY GOD. I was so MAD at Dieter, but also so sad for him. Don't take that as me saying I didn't love this because I did. I do. It's so beautifully written. The pain and angst and desperation and everything is so powerful, this hurts to read. And the smut? Mind altering actually.

a revolting development - a Joel series by @chloeangelic

Your new step dad is really hot... and that's gonna be a problem. I've been reading so many step dad fics lately (not just Joel!) and I'm so into it and what is wrong with me?

The Rogue Who Coaxed You - a Joel series by @atticrissfinch

You're Joel's secretary and you suck him off while he fields a phone call from his wife! We love an infidelity fic round these parts, we really do. Reader is filthy, Joel is mean, there's a lot of degradation, the works. I'm so obsessed with this dynamic I can't wait to read more.

When the Gallow-Grass Gives - a Silva one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Silva rescues you (m!reader) from the gallows, walks you home by the rope you were supposed to hang by, and then tells you that you remind him of someone he used to know. I love a good gay cowboy fic and this is a GREAT one. The historically accurate lube made me cackle. This was so well written and so HOT and managed to maintain that wistful sadness Silva seems to have hanging like a cloud around him.

Desires and Complications - a Marcus Pike/Dave York series by @ezrasbirdie

Sweet little Marcus Pike wants to please you better in bed so he calls up your ex, Dave York, to show him how to be a dom. It goes a little differently than any of you imagined when Marcus turns submissive for Dave. This fic is so hot. I read up through "plead" and it looks like maybe there's some throuple dynamics forming!!! I'm so excited to finish this AHHHGHGHG

Ripping Sunrise - a frankie one shot by @idolatrybarbie

You accidentally take an edible and Frankie takes care of your high ass. And then once the high wears off he really takes care of you... This is so sweet and hot, I love it so much.

I Might Kill My Ex - a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel leaves you for Tess and that... well that's just unacceptable. We got dark!reader, asshole!Joel, murder, dub con for Joel, the works. This fic is so good. It's dark and gives you a fascinating look into reader's crumbling psyche. I love the ending so much also

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I wrote Ouroboros and Eat You Whole. Dave York x f!reader fics set in the same universe, canon divergent but some canon stuff still happens in the background. Love as consumption/Love as violence type thing. Basically you and Dave are two touch starved, miserable people with nothing left in this world and you have crazy sex about it. There’s some softness in there too.

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Here's some series I've been reading (not a comprehensive list): Hot and Heavy (Joel), Muddy Waters (Joel/Ez), Stepdad!Joel, Exile (Javi P), New York or Nowhere (Joel), Feral Woman (Joel), Yearling (Joel), a lover's pinch (joel), the world tipped on it's side (Frankie), and Pretend Alleyways (Marcus/Dieter)

(In order: @tieronecrush @bonezone44 @toxicanonymity @jksprincess10 @beskarandblasters @gasolinerainbowpuddles @justagalwhowrites @hier--soir @idolatrybarbie @radiowallet)

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Happy Reading!

[navarice]

my dearest fellow mdzs stans, i really don't want to spoil anyone's fun but sometimes some things must be said. please do NOT mistake fanon characteristics for canon characteristics because by GOD is it frustrating to dissect a character when all anyone wants to do is blindly turn away from the very vivid and metastasizing flaws.

jiang cheng is an extremely complicated character, and that's why we love him. but by god, he is a jealous, self-victimizing asshole with a massive inferiority complex who likes to torture (probably) innocent look-a-likes of his (as far as he knew) dead adjacent family member. jesus christ this isn't some simple case of miscommunication (well it is but, you know no amount of communication will ever mend the giant chasm that developed between them. especially not with asians raised within the most classical case of asian parenting, i mean come on now) but a matter of deep and intense self-loathing developed since early childhood projecting violently outwards. let me be clear. he hates wei wuxian. he loathes him. he wants to kill him with his own hands again and again so some part of his convoluted sense of justice and superiority will be fulfilled. he's a classist, a bully, and abusive to everyone around him. ong at the end of mdzs, i was nearly crying tears of joy when jin guangyao flayed him flat on his ass bc that man needed to hear it. he needed to feel it. he needed to stop blaming others and blame himself.

and!! he's homophobic!! the entire cultivation world is, yes, but he's the only one we see give wei ying and lan zhan active shit for it!!

point is...his complexity makes him interesting. as a child, he was pretty alright tbh. he was understandably upset when three of his dogs got taken away and he saw his dad give a completely random kid such a gentle hug when jiang cheng never received one so far. he was a kid, and it was sad and helped the readers get a glimpse at the already dysfunctional family dynamics before wei ying came into the picture. as an adolescent/teen, yes he had a lot of unresolved rage and inferiority issues building up when he was constantly being compared to wei wuxian by his mother and not given enough reassurance from his father (once again, all present before wei ying...everyone just likes to dump the shit on him bc it's easier to point fingers at others than at yourself). perhaps he could have turned out differently if literally either of his parents stepped up and took accountability. however, after the burning of lotus pier? after the golden core transfer? after wei ying stuck around as his subordinate just as he promised, and protected jiang cheng like he promised, and defected just to save the yunmeng clan's reputation so jiang cheng doesn't have to put up with the other clan's shit, still continuing to keep his promise? after wei ying's death? idk abt y'all, but all bets are off bro.

mxtx makes it a point to make him so irredeemable. he's an exploration of what can go wrong if you let your traumas, self-hatred, and revenge fantasies blind you. he has the worst traits of his parents for a reason, directly contrasting with the other sibling, who is a perfect picture of eldest daughters born into a dysfunctional family. jiang yanli has the best traits of her parents (in terms of compassion and standing up for her family), but the family dynamics also made her the way she was. the responsible, the mediator, the occasional mother, stepping in where madam yu cannot.

there's just so much potential to hold him accountable buried under the pretense of misunderstandings and kinnie moments. he just had so many chances, more than any other character, to make a different choice. to actually look past his misgivings and unlearn the bad habits he used to protect himself as a child. i'm not saying he has to magically heal from all his traumas, but at the very least know not to be like his parents. but he wasn't written that way. because that is what happens when you give into your insecurities and generational trauma.

bottom line: jiang cheng is a fantastic archetype that needs to be explored in all his authenticity, including his moments of loyalty and cruelty.

[mermaidsirennikita]

WEEKLY BOOK RECS: 4/5-4/12

If I Stopped Haunting You by Colby Wilkens

This one isn't out until October, so I don't want to say too much--but think two Native authors who actually hate each other due to Publishing-Related Backstory ended up in at the same writers retreat in a haunted Scottish castle. Things go bump in the night... and it's not all ghosts.

The Duke Identity by Grace Callaway

The mad scientist member of the Kent family, Harry, is going undercover (because he, you know, accidentally invented a deadly explosive and wants to redeem himself)! This was pure romp--an uptight, somewhat stodgy but still very much Big and Strong glasses-wearing man becomes the bodyguard to this defiant gangster princess... only for her to become completely obsessed with him and determined to win his love. Also, she doesn't know that he's actually working against her family. Great! Personally, I'm always charmed by a "local man has no idea what to do with girl who's Kind of a Handful" dynamic. So much fun.

Enter the Duke by Grace Callaway

I always love a "the tool from a previous book is back and it's his turn to SUFFER" book, and boy... is this it. Rhys is a Rake, and I don't mean one of those "I'm a rake but I actually don't do anything slutty" dudes. For one thing, this is a Secret Baby book, with the secret baby in question being conceived against a wall. For another thing, the other plot is that he is Completely Broke and on a treasure hunt to pay off the people he owes money, which is how he ends up working with the mother of his Secret Baby (his relief when she lies her ass off about the kid's paternity... priceless). This is a book about a guy genuinely becoming a better person and growing the fuck up, and a prickly woman slowly crumbling as she realizes that he genuinely wants to take care of her. Also, a rare Good Romance Child, though Grace is generally very good at writing cute kids. And the HEAT? Please.

Through the Storm by Beverly Jenkins

It's a Beverly Jenkins novel--so of course it's a high emotion, character-forward book with impeccable research and amazing attention to detail. And it's COMPLICATED. The romance between escaped slave Sable and Union officer Raimond begins as this very sweet slow burn... only to be complicated by betrayal and hurt feelings. And then there's a marriage of convenience situation? Dude. These two have to WORK for their happy ending, but it's so worth it in the end. This one reads as an epic, y'all.

[ahundredtimesover]

I love this chapter so much despite how things ended. I know most of y'all want OC and Jungkook to be done with the drama and just date but all that only happens in the movies. Real life is sooo complicated and I get the part where both of them don't date even when they KNOW both of them have feelings for each other despite all the insecurities thrown in there. AND MIMI'S WRITINGS ARE NOT DELUSIONAL. Love that mimi 🩷

And I'm SO HAPPY OC finally quit🎉 Because no matter how cheesy and romantic it sounds, dating your boss is. not. cool. I feel they really need the time apart to grow and understand their feelings and themselves. Maybe they both will get into different relationships, maybe they won't, maybe Jungkook will go back to hook-ups or maybe just maybe he'll go into therapy? 🤷‍♀️ We don't know but whatever happens, they'll grow and they'll understand each other eventually. They will(hopefully) and can date even if they're not working at the same place and that's definitely NOT problematic at all compared to when they're in boss/assistant dynamic. And OC definitely needs this if she has to find herself and define herself outside the company. She deserves to be happy too and that happiness should not depend on anyone but herself. And it's so important to know where your happiness lies and OC being aware of that and working towards that also shows she knows herself to atleast some extent.

We finally got the answers to the Mr Ri's regrets and why OC is indebted to the Jeon family yayy.

And ukw mimi, I kinda freaked out for a mili second when Mr Ri said that OC's mother and Jungkook's father were like OC and Jungkook. I was like WHATT they're half-siblings or what??!!!?? Oof- good it's not like that😅😂

And I have a feeling we'll have Jungkook's ex back in S2? Maybe OC will date Jimin? (But their friendship is too precious to risk it?? I don't know)

And and and, 'I WANT YOU TO STAY' may have nothing to do with Jungkook wanting her to stay in the company as his assistant but him wanting her to stay in his life, in his bed and after they uk do stuff. The girl Jungkook hooks up with in one chapter says that she hopes that someone will stay for him so I think that's what IWYTS says?

And damn, the kiss, their first kiss, not to mention in HIS OFFICE was like that. Imagine the tension and the things that'll happen when they finally get together when they clarify all the misunderstandings and when their NOT in a place where they're not supposed to do the deed 🤭🤭🤭🤭 Will probably take a long time but I'm here and ready to wait and of course we need the angst ukkk🫠

"You let the tears fall, a reminder that you’d done this, and that for the first time in your life, you’re crying over losing someone, even if he was someone you didn’t have in the first place." I almost cried at this because this is so similar to what happened to me.. and I felt it's so beautifully written mimi 🩷🩷

I have no regrets whatsoever with how the chapter ended Mimi. And I'm waiting to read more but please take your time and don't feel pressured. Take care of yourself and yess sublock is really important no matter what the weather is and please stay hydrated too🩷🩷🩷 I'm going to re-read IWYTS too once I'm done with exams

PS: This reminded me of the plant OC got for Jungkook🪴

Hiii I LOVE THIS thank you for letting me know your thoughts and your theories moving forward 🥹🥹 And true, the slow burn continues beyond the feelings being revealed haha but also, who says there won't be drama even when they date? Hehe (there's a planned season 2 for a reason) 🤭 Which again, points to them still being flawed individuals even if they finally grow up and stop being scared and talk things out.

And yes to all the things you said about OC and finding her happiness, which can be different things at once. Could be a job, a person, a way of life, a refreshed mindset.. And the thing is, she's also about to learn what those are and that's also going to take some time. I'm loving all the different ideas u guys are thinking up about what happens after! Makes me wonder how you'll take what actually happens hehe 🫣🫣

But lol an earlier version of t huhu flashback conversation made it seem like their parents had an affair hahaah but no, I don't want things to be that complicated. We'll go for the other painful one, and idk it made sense for me to go that route bc of the parallels between those love stories. 💔💔

The title would actually mean different things at different points in time! Even in earlier chapters, JK would have thoughts of OC wanting to stay close to him but he could never say it. And then he says that in this chapter, asking her to stay in the company but eventually we see it's more than that.

Glad you enjoyed the kiss! JK out here teasing and it won't be the last for sure 😏😏 but yes, imagine when nothing's holding them back anymore! It's gonna be funnnn! 🫠🫠

Thank you so much for dropping by! It's always so encouraging to know you guys appreciate the characters and the story in all their complexities. I hope you enjoy the remaining of the story and that it doesn't disappoint! Sending you love, anon! 💕

[hikennosabo]

trimax vol 11 random thoughts

we're back to 6 chapters in this volume, huh!

i dont know if i'm ready for this, i still feel emotionally caught up in volume 10. but as always, i must press onward.

chapter 1:

CHAPEL JUMPSCARE?!?! WHY DOES THIS VOLUME OPEN WITH A SCENE OF CHAPEL. I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH YOU!!!! GO AWAY!!!!

and we're back to legato!! yay!!! i feel like i haven't seen him in forever!! he's looking a little worse for wear...

HELPPPP HSDKLJFDKLSFJS SHE'S SO MEAN TO HIMMMM

"there's no reason why i shouldn't just kill you" SHE'S SO MEAN!!!!!

it's really such a funny dynamic and i agree that legato is very bullyable but where does this hostility come from, actually? does she view legato as a rival for knives's attention? does she just think he has rancid vibes? it seems kinda one-sided too, legato hasn't expressed the same degree of annoyance regarding elendira... or we haven't really seen what he thinks of her at all, iirc? he just kind of ignores her goading... which honestly makes this dynamic funnier LMAO

and now we cut to--wait, LIVIO CAN DRIVE?! ...actually, now that i think about it, he probably drove chapel around, right? chapel probably couldn't drive in the condition he was in...

WHAT'S WITH THE SWANKY-ASS CAR, THOUGH???

i am happy to see brad again. i am always happy to see brad

^ me when i see brad

vash is clearly so so so tired. he decided to trust livio because he trusts wolfwood who trusted livio, but he's also mad about it. he's still very raw and very angry with livio i think. and also just fed up with this conversation in general lol. he's low on patience.

"at least let me punch him," says brad, after he already did it! livio would take the punch either way, he thinks he deserves to get punched... (ourgh...) but if you're going to ask for permission, do it beforehand!

i've been physically holding myself back from making more ff7 comparisons than i have already, but this is not making it easy. also y'all are literally in a narrative i know this shit is NOT going to work.

knives using his sisters as a shield... again... well, maybe "using" isn't the right word in this case. i actually expected him to destroy the cannon, but his expression... he knew it wouldn't fire.

i'm wondering about the plants' will now... how much self-awareness do they have? is it like, collective? are they more of a hivemind compared to the independents? ummm... hmmm... uuuummmm... i still feel like i don't know enough about plants!!

also does this mean they could have refused to fuse with knives if they didn't want to? not like knives is a stranger to using force, but in the scene where he fused with that first plant, he did ask... ummm... gaahhhh... my soupy brain...

i don't remember who in stampede said non-independent plants don't have free will... but it's an assumption everyone in this world seems to have been operating on...

"it's possible that the plants could rebel against humans. if that's the case, then there's no way humanity could survive." <- yeah no kidding! so you gotta be niceys to them!

chapter 2:

i'm apprehensive about the earth humans arriving, they're gonna make this situation even more complicated...

YOU'D BEST START BELIEVING IN SCIENCE FICTION, NAMELESS RANDO, YOU'RE IN ONE

UUAAAGH MERYL AND MILLY :( one of them (i can't tell who's talking) mentions her family... ARE their families okay?? hmmm... if they were, they'd probably be in this city, right? so i guess not... or maybe the situation is just too chaotic to find them even if they are in the city.

we never learned that much about meryl and milly's families, but i liked what we did get. that bit all those chapters ago, which touched on meryl's feelings about her own family (jeez that was FOREVER ago?!)... i thought it gave an interesting dimension to her.

THE REUNION.. CAN I GET A HUG?? CAN I PLEEEAAAASE GET A HUG??

oh holy shit he is giving MAAAAJOR sephiroth vibes here and i love it. he is beautiful and terrifying. and he's losing his shape... a physical representation of him losing himself...

and the ark itself is giving... something... i don't really know what to make of this grotesque display. it's... a lot.

chapter 3:

actually, what are the earth humans planning on doing exactly. are they gonna gather everyone up and ferry them back to earth? provide resources and technology so they can continue living on noman's land? i mean obviously we have to deal with knives first but what about after that?

OH?! BRAD TO THE RESCUE?! UNEXPECTED BRAD & LIVIO FRIENDSHIP?!

girl me too.

of course she immediately picked up on what really happened, not like brad's lie was any good to begin with...

OH, CUTE!!! what's in vash's coat! a lil figurine... what else does he have. the communicator pen, a swiss army knife, a key, the coin case... and some miscellaneous things...

"to tell you the truth, it wasn't a priority of mine" about the coins... it wasn't a priority of the author either dw

BRAD LIVIO FRIENDSHIP CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE!!!! i love this, brad is trying so hard...!! he's so sweet... this is not a friendship i expected but i'm loving it so much!!!

:( vash crying over marlon's words to him is making me feel a type of way. it's something he needs to hear, but...!! "i don't know what else to do..." asking for help is easier said than done... he doesn't know how. i can relate...

and now we get... a big explosion and...!!!!

YES.... YES!!!!! LEGATO!!!!! MY SWEET (not an adjective that describes him in the slightest) LITTLE (also not an adjective that describes him) BAGWORM HAS FINALLY EMERGED FROM HIS COCOON!!!! i missed you so much honey i can't wait to see what fucked up shit you do next <3

oh also zazie's been cut in half. ehhh they'll be fine.

chapter 4:

oh fuck. this concept has been knocking around in my head for a while, and now it's been confirmed canon... it's never quiet for him anymore...

baby knives!!!!!! :(

someone: "you're nonbinary? but what's in your pants though?" zazie:

okay but jokes aside 1. GROSS!!!, 2. would this have even worked? legato and elendira recognize the danger so maybe it would have, 3. zazie says "we will use your powers for our purposes" which is... what? eliminating the humans, i suppose, and then... what?

huh... wait... is this how his powers worked all along or is this a new thing?? it's a new thing, right??

carve strings?? out of iron?? with what, his bare hands??? and he's moving by... puppeteering... himself?? that's... insane. i'm impressed.

i actually love seeing him up and moving around again, but i guess this means i can't call him a bagworm anymore... initially i called him a jolly rancher (because of his hair color in stampede and also because my friend called him "chewable"), then he changed to bagworm... which i guess was an upgrade since at least bagworms are alive?! i need another weird pet name for him. maybe i should just call him a moth now...

he's sitting like a frog :)

and he's imbuing the bullets with his power...! i see, that's how he defeated that big guy 2 chapters ago! ...and then livio startles him so much he leaves a hole. i'm sobbing.

handsome!!!! also "new hair, new outlook" hits different when it comes from vash, huh?

i am not gonna lie, the coin case has been such a nonentity in this story that i was temporarily VERY confused because i forgot it had come with the other halves already in the case.

also... elendira doesn't get one? why? is it because it's legato's game? so she refused to play... because she hates him...? LOL

and then. a random guy shows up. and gives them the last coin. why. listen nightow i know your initial plan for the coins went out the window and you need to wrap up this plot point now but like. is this REALLY the best you could do? LMAO

chapter 5:

oh boy... so much information here... the sudden reveal of another independent... and what to glean from all this about the relationship between plants and humans on earth... aaahghgh i wanted more information about this but now i have to wrap my head around it!! aaaaghh... my soupy brain...

"our generation was wired with neural blocking programs"... to prevent them from fusing? or is there more to it? hmmm. this is giving like. sci-fi advanced AI vibes. with a program that blocks them from going terminator. except the plants are made of flesh. or something. i'm... not sure how to feel about it, honestly.

i love seeing vash and livio being silly together. lord knows we need what silliness we can get.

vash going to press the switch and livio freaking out about it is SOOO funny BUT meryl DID tell vash that there were no explosives in the coin case. so he could've pressed it!!!

why is he flirting.....

i'm joking but also i'm not. but i think the only way these two would actually kiss is if they were playing a game of gay chicken.

...but come on, "let's kill each other, just the two of us"?? buddy...

also his uh... companion... helper...? is here...? is this the same one that was assisting him when he was a bagworm? ????? i still have no idea what they are or what to make of them.

?!?!?!?! RUDE?????

i mean she IS a bitch but i'm saying that as a COMPLIMENT. a compliment!!! as in "my wife is a bitch and i love her so much"!!! BUT VASH IS BEING RUDE!!!!

uagh, i had to post the full page, this is so lovely. i like seeing vash and livio bond; it looks like vash is warming up and happy that his choice to trust livio is paying off. and livio is trying really hard to live up to that. they both feel the impact wolfwood had on the two of them... it's very sweet.

this exchange is SO funny. just doing some diy with explosive items :)

uhhh, something something humanity's relationship with god!

right, this happened in the final fight in 98. "he cancelled me out..."

oh my god, FINALLY a fucking HUG around here!!!!!

they're sweet. :( also we need more hugs in this manga. EVERYONE needs a hug. what we really need is a big cuddle pile.

so much buildup... i'm scared. chronica turning off her "limiter program"... is this the same thing that prevents plants from fusing or is it something else? what is she gonna try doing?? ughhh, the apprehension is killing me...

chapter 6:

she's so cute... and she's soooo... COOOOL!!!!!

i love elendira, she is really cool and strong and funny, but... we don't really know anything deeper about her. what makes her tick? why is she following knives? are we gonna get a backstory? i wanna know everything about her!! i've wanted to know since her introduction!!!

and of course livio can live through getting impaled so many times. that's NOTHING to him. and his interaction with the kids is cute. and his reunion with jasmine is sweet. not going to say aaaanything about nightow's inconsistent timeline again...

actually no, i lied just now. it would be one thing if he had just... changed his mind midway though the manga and then stuck with it. but he's ACTIVELY going BACK AND FORTH on this. "six years" was LESS THAN 10 CHAPTERS AGO but if it still holds true then jasmine should NOT be this old. these chapters were published WITHIN THE SAME YEAR. RRAAAAAGHHGHGH

*cough* anyway. livio is such a big sweetie... i never disliked him, but my impression of him has changed. in stampede i didn't really know what to think of him. he didn't have a personality, he was just brainwashed. and his manga self was stoic and cool before. which... didn't seem like it was brainwashing, necessarily? i don't know?? maybe it was just an act he was putting on. he went goober mode as soon as the fight was over. perhaps no longer being beholden to EoM allowed him to embrace his inherent silliness. i liked his cool and stoic self but i LOVE his big silly teddy bear self. he's so... uwah. he makes me smile.

now that we're getting closer to the end i'm getting impatient... i feel the urge to just read the rest of it all in one go... but i mustn't... i must show restraint...!!!

[bibliophilea]

Through Traps and Overgrown Paths Our Fates Await

Inspired by "Through Traps and Overgrown Paths (Our Fates Await)" by @bubblegumbeech

Album artwork by @kawaiijohn

For @invisobang 2022

It starts with a bed of Poppy Flowers and a stranger holding out a helping hand. How was Danny to know this stranger was anything but and that Family dynamics in the Infinite Realms were even more complicated than back home?

Read the phic here: ao3 | tumblr See Dante's art for the phic here: tumblr Listen to album on bandcamp here: bandcamp

Mastered by @lexosaurus First track mixed by lexosaurus Lyrics and lead vocals in first track by bubblegumbeech

Thank you, @kinglazrus, for being the head organizing force behind Invisobang! It's been a pleasure working with you as a mod and an artist, and your spreadsheets are phantastic!

Firstly, I am so sorry for how late this is! Invisobang 2022 is over, and Invisobang 2023 is well underway! Nevertheless, I loved working on these songs, and working together with the folks above to create this music! Invisobang has been such a great experience for me, and I am so thankful to have worked on it with y'all!

Bee, your phic is amazing - I love how you've developed Flynn and his ghostly family, including Misery Vex, and their relationships to one another! And I adore how you throw Danny into this mess of a family! Very well done, and delightfully written!

And Dante, your art slaps! I love how serious and rugged you draw Flynn, and I love how you do Danny's expressions! And the cover art you made for the phic and for my work is so good - it does a great job catching the vibes of Bee's phic!

Thank you, Lexx, for mastering my work, and for mixing the first song to really capture the vibes! You did and do incredible work!

I hope this music does the phic and the art and all your work justice!

[dark-roleplay-finder]

🕊️[20+, m/m or nb/m] hey y'all! i've been itching to do this concept for a bit--or at least something with very similar dynamic. i rp mostly on email but i can do discord; i write 3rd person in present tense, semi-lit/novella; and i love me some angst and complicated relationships hehe. (while nsfw or smut is encouraged, i don't have much rp experience specifically if that's something important to you!) i'd like a character-focused plot and love worldbuilding + i'm experienced in writing a recurring side cast.

SOLE SURVIVOR OF A FAILED REVOLUTION (A) X HEIR TO THE TYRANT THEY TRIED TO OVERTHROW (B)

aka Tired x Chaotic; Uses Head x Follows Heart

slow-burn, possibly sci-fi, psychological, drama, power imbalance. very fucked world overall. potential for co-dependency, obsessive/possessive behavior, power play, and manipulation. slight age difference with B being a little younger than A for timeline purposes. dubious consent for the power imbalance, especially if both are privy to each other's exact identities from the start, and each having something to gain from the other.

set in a dystopian society in a nation suffering from ecological disaster that caused most of the population to bear the brunt of it

i'd love an assertive but goofy muse who's also a bit naive while being capable of casual murder/violence, to go against someone incredibly world-weary and reluctantly living on autopilot, resigned to his circumstances yet still harboring a lot of rage. in spite of bedroom roles, hit me with some trope subversion and characterization beyond those please.

the vibesTM: asking about your favorite candy and your relationship with your family over takeout after an unceremonious bathroom hookup; a bloody kiss after one protects the other; hysterical, broken laughter right before a breakdown during sex (or anything that's supposed to be an intimate and tender moment); tracing scars in fascination with a sense of pride that you're the first/only one to see them; looking at the lights and motions of a city from above and feeling a sense of longing/alienation; whatever emotions you experienced while watching Netflix's Beef.

A + B somehow meet and get attached to each other, forming a genuine connection and feeling something for the first time in years in spite of how it draws scorn from their respective communities. give me flawed people who aren't necessarily out to fix each other that get their own sort of happy ending (happy being subjective here LOL).

B is intrigued by someone as "real" as A, being delighted that A treats them something close to human and is blunt about how they abhor B's standing and what they represent (looks at A with a hint of romanticization of poverty too) while A can't help but find it fascinating that someone who's so removed from regular people and is capable of destruction manages to have such childlike wonder at life. plus, B pays for food.

to some extent, they're both spectators gawking at each other as if the other is some animal in a zoo. they're both also very lonely people aching to feel seen and wanted.

important: my activity levels vary significantly since I kinda work 2 jobs and my main one takes a lot of my energy. if long gaps between replies make you anxious/irritate you or if you prefer fast-paced plots and rapid-fire responses, this probably ain't gonna work tbh--ofc i will try my best to communicate with you when things come up. busy people with loaded schedules that still like writing in their downtime to the front pls🥲

hope to build something neat that we can both yell about during weird hours! interact with the post and i'll reach out :]

Like this post and the asker will reach out!

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 9}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Life is weird. Human connection is weird. But you finally are in a spot to listen to what Joel has to say, even if your mind is already made up.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: canon typical language, restaurant lingo, talk of food, consumption of food, smoking, references of nicotine addiction, nicotine, cigarettes, drinking, references to alcoholism, insinuations of infidelity, complicated relationship dynamics, reader feels a lot of anxiety, sexual content, p in v smut, unprotected p in v, cream pie

A/N: this was a hard one to sit down and get done, i feel so removed from this story for some reason. it's turned into something i didn't expect and i love it, do not get me wrong. but it's just a hard dynamic for me write about at the moment. hope y'all like this one, only one more to go!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Your boxes were in the living room, bathed in easy early morning light when you turned the handle of the front door. Joel was a still figure on the couch, head hanging between his legs and cradled in his hands. Hair mused and frizzy from the endless brushing of his fingers through the thick locks.

He must’ve dosed off, you thought, as you quietly closed the door behind you. But when you turned back around, he was standing next to the boxes with a haggard look about him. Clothes disheveled and showing the wrinkles of his endless pacing and fidgeting throughout the night. You jumped, not having heard him move up from his spot and closer to you.

“Figured we could unpack today…if that’s somethin’ you would want.” His words were clear, but you could sense the hesitancy behind them, the uncertainty of where you were at and what you wanted obvious in his every muscle.

“I want to know why.” You regretted the crack rough quality of your voice, of the faint lingering haze of nicotine from the cigarette you had smoked on the porch before building up the courage to cross the threshold. Distant worry that you would find the woman from the night before asleep on the couch or the guest room downstairs. That they would be enjoying a nuclear family breakfast, Sarah having been called to come down and help Joel deal with what was an obvious issue with the girl’s mother. It was foolish to spend energy on the what if’s but that’s what your brain did, every second of every day since you were a small girl yourself. Endlessly tiring and anxiety inducing.

But this was a situation where you believe it was warranted. Any relationship has a person whose name could be brought up and instantly cause problems. And not for lack of understanding and an abundance of care for each other. But society has but such a strict label on what is appropriate behavior for friends and what isn’t. The same for people in a romantic relationship. It was all bullshit, but anything other was looked at with discontent and judgement born of nothing but devotion to those strict labels that had no impact on genuine human connection.

This was a situation you had never anticipating being smack dab in the middle of, between two distant co-parents to a biological daughter only a few years younger than you and an adopted one even younger than that. The what ifs were endless.

They rendered you silent for a moment, moving through the space toward the kitchen. He followed you, his own thoughts scrambled as he tried to find an honest answer to give you. You could feel his eyes follow you as you moved about the kitchen, knowing the space as well as your own. Coffee. You were making coffee. A bit of cinnamon on the grounds before turning the pot on and turning to face the man once again, arms coming up as a makeshift shield around your ribcage.

Joel heaved a sigh, hands clenching at his sides in that nervous tick of his. Exhausted eyes with dark color encircling them watched you as you crossed your arms around yourself to try and make yourself small. A thing he’s seen you do a lot when overwhelmed.

“I didn’t do anythin’ after that morning in your kitchen. I swear to you.”

“But the day before?”

“…yes.” His head hung slightly, like the weight of his answer was too heavy for him to bear. Too much of a give away of how he thought of himself, how he felt about the decisions he’s made in his life.

“Joel, that’s….that’s really confusing.” You admitted quietly, knees weakening as the image of him with someone else flashed in your mind. The thought of him with someone he had a connection with, a history with. A child with, grew up with, the same age as him. Close. Important. A part of his life for most of his life.

“I know, this whole damn thing is confusing. I didn’t- I never thought about it past the instances of what would happen. Didn’t dwell on it.” He sighed, shuffling closer and reaching out a hand to you in a silent request. You gently shook your head, not wanting to be touched right now. Unable to resist the warmth and strength of his hands coming around you and holding you tight. One breath against his chest would be your downfall. You needed to stay strong, for now. For as long as you could.

“I shouldn’t have let it go on for as long as it did. Every time she had a bad date or something ended or she was overwhelmed with trying to reconnect with Sarah…it would just happen. And I know that’s not a good enough reason to keep it from everyone. Hell, I don’t even think Tommy knows. But, sweet girl, please, it’s done. I-I-I had her admitted to an in-patient facility to help her with everything she’s struggling with, she wanted to go. The alcohol, the smoking, those habits I picked up from her, but they have such a stronger hold on her than they ever did on me. She’s going to get better with the understanding that I have love for her, for all that she’s been to me. But also that we are no longer going to engage in that way, that she is someone who is family and boundaries were made. I told her about you, really told her about you.”

His heart was bleeding and bare, offered to you in a way you weren’t sure you could handle.

Turning from him, you poured two cups of coffee and took them over to the table, taking a seat before your knees did betray you and no longer support your weight. He followed, leaving space between you lest he spook you. Lest you feel the need to run from him. You didn’t know if you would and could see the same worry in him.

“Okay,” Was all you could say, unsure of how to handle such transparency so early in the morning. It had been a long night, up late with Nia as she told you of all the good things going on in her life. Trying to be supportive despite showing up on her doorstep with dried tear tracks and a hollow feeling in your chest.

You hadn’t told her, had just spent time with her and watched lame movies that wouldn’t be able to pass today’s critics. Stupid, cliché comedies about sororities, about ice skaters who hated each other, about a damn dodge ball competition. Easy to consume media that helped to get you out of your head long enough to laugh at the ridiculous antics until you dozed off with each other on the couch surrounded by candy wrappers and bowls of snacks.

“I’m processing, it’s…it’s not okay, Joel, but I’m accepting what you’re telling me.”

“I was honest when I said I didn’t know how to-“

“Ding dong bitches,” Ellie’s voice sounded as she burst into the room with a duffle bag hanging from her hand and a crooked smile. She paused for the briefest of seconds at the scene of you and Joel on opposite sides of the dining table. A vulnerability shining in both your eyes. A heavy feel to the air of the kitchen surrounding you both. “…everything okay?”

“We’ve had a rough couple of days.” You felt your mood lighten the face of direct interaction with someone other than Joel. Ellie being such a comfort in all her genuine comfortability in herself, in the way Joel’s eyes were bright when he cracked jokes with her or groaned out at one of her less than clever puns. “But we’re okay, promise.”

“Okay, cool. I didn’t wanna be the jackass who waltzed in on like a really tense moment when I’m so excited to be home.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, knowing that that was exactly what she did and you were both faking it.

“You didn’t, baby girl, promise.” Joel reached out to squeeze your hands laid out on the table with his own but thought better of it at the last second before he stood up and moved around the kitchen.

“Dad, hey, so like the food on the plane sucked and-“

“Already got the stuff to make omelets, give me about fifteen minutes.”

“You rock! Gonna go shower and then we can head to the campus, yeah?”

“Austin?”

“Yeah!” Ellie turned to you, eyes taking in the way you were moving slowly and your eyes hadn’t quite yet cleared. “I’m applying for a graduate program for spring! I graduated earlier this year but being a teacher assistant isn’t exactly racking in the dough, ya know?”

“I warned you,” You joked with her as she came over to give you a side hug from her standing position, a delayed greeting you returned that had Joel turning quickly away from you both.

“Shuuuuut up, I know.” She grumbled. “We can’t all be really good at being fake nice to people and mix drinks, okay? Buuuuuut maybe I could-“

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say, ya old dinosaur.”

“You-“ He pointed a mixing spoon in her direction, bowl of cracked eggs in front of him. “Are not coming to work in the restaurant. You know the rules, you live here and go to school full time and everything else is taken care of.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the best, okay? We get it.” She stuck her tongue out at him as she walked backwards out of the room, her steps heavy on the stairs as she made her way to her room.

“You really are, Joel.” You said more to the contents of your mug than the man himself. Eyes downcast and thoughts overwhelming.

All you could think about was Joel. All you could feel around you was Joel. He was enthralling, his body moving against you in deep, hard thrusts. His voice was in your ear, grunting your name every so often, his voice traveling down the length of your body and right to your core. He had moved to lay your back against the floor, one of his hands supporting himself by your head while the other was fastened right on your hip. You were trying not to make a keening noise as the head of his cock hit that glorious spot deep inside you over and over again, but you weren’t too confident when his eyes snapped up to try and capture yours where you had been staring at the way sweat was trickling down the column of his neck, pooling at the collar of his white undershirt.

“You’re takin’ me so well.” Your legs clenched tighter around him, your core squeezing his length sinfully tights, at his words. He stilled as he bottomed out on his next thrust, circling his hips to grind down on that spot inside you that had a coiling feeling building up and about to snap in your stomach. Your fingers dug into the curve of his shoulders, trying to urge him to move but when he didn’t, you moved your hips around him, his next words coming out in a low growl. “But you gotta reign in those sounds, darlin’.”

“I’m tryin’.” You panted, throwing your head back as you felt your stomach tighten, you felt so hot, so tense, you were so close. Your voice was wrecked, dripping honey sweet to his ears, the sounds you were making made him think how much more he could get out of you if there was no background worry of waking anyone or drawing attention. Taking his time and dragging out your orgasm as long as he felt fit, making you beg for it. He closed his eyes at the thought, beginning to thrust again. “But it just feels so good, you fill me so well.”

He could feel the tightening deep in his stomach, he wanted to make sure you came before he did. He wanted to take care of you, make sure you got what you needed, just as he felt so desperate himself to chase that high. He straightened up a bit, body no longer caging yours. He put both of his hands on your hips and patted them, the give of your skin so plush and soft under his fingers. “On your knees.”

The command had you positioned on your knees, resting most of your weight on your elbows in ten seconds flat. You looked back at him over your shoulder, seeing the way his eyes were roaming over the curves of your body, his hand lazily pumping himself as he watched you wiggle into place. He choked out a strangled noise when you bumped back into him, slick heat catching the head of his cock. With a growl, he lined up and slammed into you without preamble, hands coming to grip your hips for leverage. You jolted forward, his length hot and hard overwhelming in the best way possible.

He angled his hips, searching for that spot inside you again and he knew he found it when your breath began to hitch with every thrust. He pulled your hips back with every forward thrust, you were clenching so tight around him and he was so close. He just needed to feel you unravel around him. You felt him throb inside you, the feeling overwhelming. You began to push your hips back, chasing that tightening feeling. The long line of him inside you was hot, sending shockwaves through your entire body, you were sweating, pleasure making you clench your eyes shut.

His tip was merciless, hitting that spot just right inside you, you felt small waves of pleasure wash over you. Your legs began to shake, and you bit into your arm when the waves crested and overtook you. You could feel yourself clench around Joel, the man moaning low at the feeling of your orgasm overtaking you. He ground his hips flush against yours, helping to draw it out a little. You went slack below him, shaking legs barely able to hold your hips up for him, once, twice, three times more and he was quickly removing himself and waves of pleasure overtook him as well. You could feel the hot ribbons of his release on your backside, some of it dripping down your folds and earning Joel a filthy moan.

The sound of your panting filled the bedroom as you pushed yourself into a kneeling position, knees spread below you. Behind you, Joel watched the way the moonlight from the window illuminated your body in front of him, the sight of his cum trailing down your ass making him throb where he held himself in his hand. You turned to look at him over your shoulder, your face flushed and eyes blown.

You glanced down to where his cock was barely visible in his large hand, fist tight over his tip as a drop of cum dribbled out. It jerked in his hand, his eyes watching the way you watched him.

The sticky release between your legs catching the moonlight had his heart hammering harder in his chest, heaving as he tried to catch his breath. It had been ages since he had been able to get worked up so immediately afterwards but you were something else, something inspiring, something desirable. From the position you kept in front of him, the glazed over, cock drunk appearance of your eyes. The way your plush bottom lip was taken between your teeth, the ropes of his release painted across your body. For him, just for him, you whispered as you finally locked eyes with him.

And he was pressing back into you, semi hard at just the sight of you. The stuttered gasp that punched from your throat was all the appraisal he needed as he began to move against you again, wanting to paint you completely, your insides this time.

It was late, Joel snoring beside you as he laid out on his stomach with one arm crooked up and beneath his pillow, the other reached out to splay across your stomach. You had taken what he offered, breathing it in like a lifeline, revealing in the feelings that had flowed from him. His apologies, his transgressions, his regrets. All laid out bare for you to see, to pick up in your hands and smooth them over. To take for your own and to accept them. And you did.

He had been so tender as he washed you up in a hot bath, cradled you to his body in the tub of his en suite. Cried into your shoulder let you see him in all his remorse. And your heart ached for him, your soul, everything in you ached for him.

He would give you whatever you needed, he would try his best to help you. Without even a breath of an ask ghosting your lips. He was selfless in that way. Giving his all to those he deemed important and cared for. And that was too much to take from him. Even if he was willing.

But that didn’t change the way you felt.

The dark was a comfort, the sounds of an easy life you could have haunting you as you lay awake for what seemed like hours.

‘You drove all the way to your old apartment before you realized it wasn’t yours anymore. The keys having been handed over to the landlord earlier that month. Reliant on anything people in your close circle were willing to throw your way. Dependent on people once again and that was terrifying. You had sworn you would never be dependent on anyone again, give people the power over you in such a way.

Even if they didn’t have ill intentions.

Even if it was Joel.

The situation with your former professor, with his brother, with the asshole at work; all of them culminating and breaking you down.

Refusing to let anyone have that much of a sway over you, especially if it was a double edged sword.’

Your boxes were still in the living room the next morning, a mirror image of the day before. But in this moment, they didn’t bring you comfort. Seeing them there, waiting for large hands to help you unpack, they looked like a weight you didn’t have the strength to bare. You set the coffee mug in your hands atop the table,

“Was thinkin’ about unpacking this morning, head out and get some stuff you’ll need for around the house.” Joel sipped from his own mug. A bit of sugar added to it this morning, stolen from you before you poured the cream into the first cup. With a snort, you had just reached up to grab another. Breakfast hadn’t been started and with the way your stomach was twisting now, you knew that food wouldn’t even be a thought today. Joel had picked up on it and hadn’t offered to get something going.

“I, um, I don’t think that’s the best idea.” You spoke to the contents of your mug.

“No. No, you don’t get to do this, goin’ and makin’ decisions without hearing me out. Without giving me the chance to explain.” He was suddenly more awake than he had been just seconds ago.

“Joel, please, I’m….I’m so tired and I just…I don’t belong here, in this house where you raised your daughters, where you looked after your brother. Just another chapter of things you’ve given up for people who need lookin’ after. And I don’t wanna be the next one. Not with Ellie potentially moving back for school.”

“It’s not a burden, not if it’s you. It wasn’t with them, that’s…that’s what you do for family, for people you love.”

“You don’t love me.” Your breath carried the words, hands coming up to cover your face as you felt tears sting in the corners of your eyes. The sharp spear of an invisible blade sprouted in the middle of your chest. Once, twice, three times as you watched the emotions play out on his enamoring features.

“Darlin’, I do.” He was suddenly so close, his chair kicked out from the table, now kneeling in front of you with an open expression. His large, brown eyes catching the light and making your chest feel light when he took your hands from your face gently and held them over your knees. “But that’s why I’m gonna let you do what you think is best. I’ll help you find a place, help you with hours at work. Hell, I’d build you a whole damn house if that’s what you wanted, because I love you. I just want you to be happy, sweet girl. You deserve it so much and if I can help you get there: then I will do whatever it takes.”

You were silent, words stuck in your throat. The instinctive response on the tip of your tongue, the return of his sentiment. But it was blocked, drowned out by everything you had ever heard otherwise. Berated towards you and pressed into your very skin, something not so easily overcome if at all. The feeling of being a burden, of being too much, not enough thrummed inside your entire body, mind a cacophony of all the negative things you’ve ever been told.

“Loving someone doesn’t save them.”

He was quiet for a few breaths, watching you from his crouched position, face soft and concerned. His eyes lit up by more than just the morning light now. They were shining with unshed tears.

“Joel, please. Let me do this. Let me take back what I can from everything that’s happened. I-I don’t know if I’ll return to you but believe me when I say thank you.” Your nails dug into the backs of his hands as you gripped them tight, holding onto him with everything you had before you let him go.

The snick and hiss of a bottle being opened was loud in the empty townhome. The walls shining with the drying hues you had spent all day painting to cover the white applied by the rental company between tenants. Your stuff in the bed of three different trucks down on the curb in front of the building. You had found a place a few blocks from the campus, cheaper rent for those who qualified and had affiliation with the university. Joel had been insistent on getting Tommy to help load and move your things from his house.

They had just pulled up, after a quick text to let them know you were ready for them. Ready to fill this new space. Sweet Pea in the walk in closet upstairs with a temporary set up so she didn’t feel abandoned in the new space. It hurt to see that Joel had lined her kennel with a flannel shirt of his that smelled of you both, to help sooth the small cat during the transition from you old home, to his own, and now here.

You had cried over it for a long while before finally getting started on decorating your space with the colors you had picked out to make it feel more like a home.

Both men efficiently moved everything in and set it up where you had asked them too. Working well together and not letting you lift so much as a finger unless it was to point to where something should go.

The hammering of them putting up shelves and the bedframe for both the main bedroom and the guest room was a hum in the background as you busied yourself with making them a meal as a thank you.

The conversation was easy between all three of you. It had ended with Tommy leaving ahead of Joel, giving you both a little privacy. You weren’t sure what Joel had told him, but you kept your own answers with him vague. Not wanting to contradict anything his brother had already shared with him.

It had been slightly awkward, both of you shuffling your feet. You had asked for a hug, his arms coming around you completely for the last time. A kiss placed into your hair for the last time.

Over the next few months as the year began to transition through fall and into winter, you couldn’t bring yourself to keep in contact outside of work. Teaching and grading and working on your final program layout while still working at the restaurant in the evening was wearing you thin. Falling asleep at the desk in your downstairs office, the bed sitting up trying to cuddle with the cats, on the couch surrounded by piles of books and papers that needed to be attended to.

It had already been a month since you quietly requested to meet with Mary and turn in your resignation letter. She had listened to you, heard you out and agreed that should they need to hire anyone or replace anyone they could contact you first to see if you wanted the chance at hours. She had tried to get you to take a cut to them initially, but when you explained that you were going through some stuff that was taking a lot of emotional energy, she acquiesced.

Joel had called once and then left a voicemail marked only thirty seconds, but you hadn’t built up the courage to press play.

Crying yourself to sleep every night for a week afterwards, looking at his contact number made you feel pathetic, but you stood your ground. Stubborn and set on your decision, knowing his honeyed words would change your mind even if he didn’t ask you to come back.

One of the shining moments from the months that passed was that you did get the internship, had been working diligently through the end of the year to prove yourself. That’s what had been the tipping point for dropping the restaurant job that had been more than just a way to make fast, easy money. It was everything you had worked so hard for, and it was demanding. The other was that the board of your department wanted to soft launch a program you had created a mock up for in one of your summer semester courses. Needing to fill some time blocks left behind from your shitty professor. A blessing in disguise, your best friend had cheered out in a toast.

You were doing it, you were making a name for yourself in the academic world. But the cost was passing out in the late hours of the night only to be up and back at it in the early morning. No time for anything else, a distraction of the highest caliber. Joel a lingering thought every time you made dinner or smoked one too many cigarettes in a day. It was as comforting as it was devastating.

But the guilt of not having kept up contact weighed heavily on you, made it harder to send out a simple text or open his voicemail. So you didn’t and time continued to pass.

“Dad.” Ellie’s voice greeted him, still seated on the couch with a now warm beer in his hand, condensation trailing over his numb knuckles, the tv playing something he hadn’t been paying attention to. Her voice called to him again before he came back to himself. He leaned over to place the bottle atop the coffee table and rubbed his hands roughly over his face, trying to get some feeling back into it.

“Yeah, baby girl?”

“I, um, I was coming to check on you and to…ask if I could move back in?”

“What? Is everythin’ okay? I thought you liked your school set up out in Boston.” He was up on his tingling legs in a breath, worry seeping into his very soul at the hesitant expression on his little girl’s face as she stood at the end of the couch.

It was past the end of summer and well into the fall season, December just cresting over the horizon and settling in nicely. It was break for her, and she had shown up to help and keep him company since he had been working so much and things in the home fell by the wayside. He was sure there had been a conversation between his two girls about who would help him get back on track.

“Hey, woah, everything’s okay. It’s just that I was looking at programs to apply for since I’m done with my bachelor’s degree, and they didn’t have any that really jumped out at me. Figured I’d apply to the university here. There are a few classes I want to take and they have a really good applied arts program that they just announced.”

“There’s a new program, focused on how art influenced the cultural building blocks of different societies and how language developed from it. How art is the center of everything that we’ve become, made ourselves into and the juxtaposition of how it’s now viewed in a society that frowns upon the pursuit of it.”

“Why are you askin’ me, Ellie, you know you could’ve just started moving boxes in and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.” He thinks back to the two carry on suitcases she had brought along with her last week, and how she was talking of needing to find a new place since she needed to reapply for a new dorm or possibly find an apartment now that she was awaiting on news of her graduate application back there.

“Well, um, the program is headed by a…new professor.”

“What’re you talkin- oh.” Suddenly, the girls hands fidgeting and eyes shifting clicked everything into place. His heart soared with pride at the idea of you finally getting the position you had tirelessly worked for. All of the books and notes and papers, all of the hectic shifts, the shitty customers, the endless tickets springing forth from a printer with a chirp, every lost pen and empty bottle tossed into a recycling bin. You had been so distant at work leading up to your departure from the restaurant, eyes glazed over every time you weren’t interacting with anyone. Exhausted from everything you had been doing in the background, creating a foundation for yourself to prop up on.

You did it. You made it happen.

A wide, unfiltered smile broke out on his face, pulling his plush lips up in a moment of pure admiration and affection for you. Even if you weren’t here to see it, to know that he was in awe of you, your resilience, despite the way his messages remained unread and his calls unanswered.

“Yeah, dad, it’s her program. It starts in the spring and since I’m just a TA next semester, I figured I would give that up to someone intending to stay at that school.”

“She did it, she made it happen.” He gazed at the label on his abandoned beer bottle, something you picked out one of the first nights you both spent camped out on his couch with a movie, still getting to know each other outside of work. It was one of your favorites and he had been buying ever since, wanting whatever small part of you he could have now that you were gone and not responding to his attempts at conversation. Not that he had tried much after you left the restaurant, not wanting to make you feel like he was pushing himself on you.

“I have an interview with her today, she’s only taking like thirty students or something and there’s a lot of buzz around it. I just…wanted to check in and make sure it was like okay, that I do this.”

“Baby girl, of course it’s okay. If this is what you want to do, then you should go for it. I don’t think she would breech professionality because of who you are after everythin’ she faced the last year.”

“Yeah, she’s good like that.”

“Yeah, kid, she really is.” Joel smiled to himself, willing his heart to stop aching.  

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taglist: @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

[ultimateshixiongfuckertournament]

Semifinal 1: Fei Du vs Jiang Cheng

Semifinal 1 is between Fei Du (shixiong: Luo Wenzhou) from Mo Du vs Jiang Cheng (shixiong: Wei Wuxian) from Mo Dao Zu Shi

Propaganda under the cut

Fei Du:

Fei Du: evidence? The entirety of Mo Du. His shixiong is is Luo Wenzhou, a dude with an eight-pack and parents who love him and love fei du as well, and a dude whom fei du is willing to not die/consider the future with, and consider himself not a monster to be with. Fei Du says shixiong to Luo Wenzhou so flirtatiously that they both stop and stare. Luo Wenzhou gets him birthday cake, a video game when he was small and a promise. (Also, they are cat parents)

Jiang Cheng:

Clinged to WWX constantly for 7+ years, wanted to have WWX as his right hand man forever after becoming sect leader, cried after WWX left, cried when he discovered what WWX sacrificed for him, was TORN APART when it got explained to him that if they were more outwardly close knit, WWX might not have died

PROPAGANDA!! to start, i'm still very bitter about how fairy lost the sentient animal poll and i want to win this badly. very very badly. current stats are 50.6 in favour of jc but that's too less of a gap for me. jc should be winning this by a landslide, y'all hear me? anyways. starting with a class act, like the clown i am->

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a few links ( because i'm chengxian trash, as always and i'd love if poll-guy could copy paste them on the og post): one, two, three, four (gif), five, six, seven (gif), eight (thoughts on different wavelengths), the absolute circles of them saving each other, the fucking golden core reveal scene. golden scene reveal part 2, jiang cheng will always forgive wei wuxian

to start with. jiang cheng is literally the picture of "i knew from the moment i met you that i'd spend a lifetime forgiving you".

the earliest dynamic of jiang cheng and wei wuxian is jiang cheng giving away his dogs (the only gift his father has ever given him, btw) because wei wuxian is scared of the dogs. tis only the start of it.

his father very obviously prefers his shixiong over him, his mother berates him for not being as good as wei wuxian and tells him his inheritance is in danger, and his sister (in my opinion) has more care for him (visibly. maybe jiang yanli doesn't show it because jc is an emotionally complicated purple grape, maybe because jc doesn't need it, or wei wuxian is traumatised but that's my opinion). but still. still. Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian. so much. jealousy is like. the most tame response i can think of. and jiang cheng is proud of wei wuxian, okay? he'd believe his big brother if he'd said anything. want proof? well, here you go-> link

to paraphrase the link:

Jiang Cheng had just lost his family, his home, and his very golden core, and his older brother - his brilliant older brother who could fix anything, who could sneak wine into Cloud Recesses and defeat an ancient turtle nearly-god and make Jiang Cheng share a smile when Jiang Cheng’s mother was disappointed and furious at both of them - His big brother smiled and said, “I can fix this.”And Jiang Cheng believed him then, and believed him three months later when Wei Wuxian crawled out of the Burial Mounds (just the second miracle in three months), and believed him every day of the next seventeen(?) years until the pieces were shoved into place for him to see.

also. the circle these two go in protecting each other. (gif set by @sandushengshou), the 'if one of us is to die, then, i beg, let it be me' that they both do for one another in a seemingly neverending loop of sacrifice. via this post a la my lovely @backtoyunmeng

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jiang cheng is a cannonically ruined woman archetype, justified via the countless posts you'll get in the top posts of jiang cheng tag. he keeps chenqing, wwx's flute in perfect condition even when he hates wei wuxian, even when wwx, if only indirectly, has a part in jiang yanli's murder and oof okay someone pointed out to him that he's known to have killed wei wuxian and he almost cries. he absolutely believes, with his whole heart, that wei wuxian lives even when the world is sure he doesnt. and it always read to me like, i'd know if he was dead. he's a part of my soul, so i'd know if he was dead. he can't be dead.

this is getting too long, so, to sum up, some absolute poetry by @jiangchengsjawline

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#JC On The Other Hand Has His Entire Life Shaped By His Shixiong And Ended Up Cast As The Ruined Woman By The End

#jiang cheng though. wasn't able to fuck his shixiong but his shixiong definitely fucked with him

#hello?? the answer is Jiang cheng pls#he's the shixiongfucker or all shixiong fucker you wish you could be as pathetically in love with your shixiong as he is#chengxian

#i do not go here (chengxian) but the propaganda is incredibly correct they are insane abt each other#also sorry jiang cheng ik you're suffering but they are so funny to me#neway VOTE JIANG CHENG FOR CLEAR SKIN

#look I rarely go here#(here being chengxian)#but by GOD their lvoe compels me#they’re tragic and doomed and they love each other without knowing how to say it in words the other would understand#or in words at all because communication??? we don’t know her???

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he didn't even think about sacrificing himself, and consequently his entire bloodline, his sect, pretty much everything that depends on him for his shixiong??????????

is this not convincing->

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#had to vote jc though i have more feelings about chengxian#i think jc should have a huge gege kink

#like. jiang cheng should win the entire tournament hands down period