#i think i am actually rambling now i will rest now

[whatudottu]

Hello Ben 10 fans, it's been a hot second hasn't it, it's time for another round of Whatudottu Rambles and it's been a long time coming! Not just because of the gaps between posts but because this original idea comes straight from 2023 notes yay!

Today, we'll be talking about vulpimancers, but specifically their history and the politics of Vulpin! Because! For some reason! Whenever I think about vulpimancers, Vulpin, and vulpinic tortugans I think about their relation to the rest of the universe at large and frankly I want to elaborate what has been years of note taking!

God it's gonna be LONG!

So! One of the caveats when dealing with societal structure and the politics therein with significantly more animalistic appearing species, especially vulpimancers who do not have the actual physical structure to speak Earth languages, is that trying to base them off of a real human culture is a SIGNIFICANT FAUX PAS let alone taking inspiration from more traditional and indigenous cultures from around the world. It's part of the reason my obviously-armadillo ant bio talpaedans have their cultural influence taken from historial Europe more specifically during the time of their royal blood swapping since that's the basis of the tradie marriages.

What this means for vulpimancers is that I won't be taking from any modern world culture and hopefully harkening their lives and otherwise timeline to be kind of the present day equivalent of early human communities. Vulpimancers don't exactly have hard borders on territory beyond their stable hunting grounds and are nomadic, sticking together in communities, working within packs, then bundling for rest with families. This will persist until the 'modern era' which consists of a lot more than just the last 25 so years 'today' means, and that territory ends up becoming a whole country, a few communities per country with their relevant amount of working packs and individual families within.

Communities are 'run' by family elders and pack leaders, being a combination of 'the eldest takes care of the youth' parent style but also of those in charge of resource gathering being the... I suppose statistical analysts of the community who take stock of the resources they have, the mouths they need to feed, the seasons of their country, and how well one resource is actually growing (in the case of plants) or breeding (in the case of animals). It's not completely flawless sure, but it's certainly a system that works in a deadly pitch black environment filled with predators galore. Each country has a basic sense of politics even without a so called 'government head' or unified governing body, and historically their international politics extend to the access foreign vulpimancers have to the lands and resources of their country. Often smelling like a region none of the communities have traveled through (and countrymancers would have had interactions with the other communities and familiarised themselves with their scents), the allowance of foreign travel are limited in small numbers to only a few members of a family and only one or two members of a worker pack just outside (never within) the border; a whole community is expected to remain well away from the border unless the border happens to be at the centre of a river or by a dense cave system.

This system would have gone uninterrupted were it not for the fact that early tortugan settlers, an old species already at space fairing technology well beyond many of the civilisations we know were what they are today, landed on Vulpin during their mission to colonise their star system. One argues that the tortugan got to their level of technology from having a lack of predators and thus more proposed 'free time' to dedicate to advanced sciences, another says that they were simply haughty and underprepared for an environment that they had no ability to even understand beyond the atmosphere let alone the conditions on the ground. What inarguably happened though was in some way the settlers were stranded, their ships corroding and decaying from the harsh chemicals of the air, fighting for their damn lives in the pitch black of Vulpin. Forced to adapt or die, the settlers faced the wild threats of Vulpin fighting tooth and nail to live, running into what would and will continue to be the apex predator vulpimancers reacting in fear to their initial 'foreigners in our territory' related hostilities. It was a reluctant few vulpimancers who saw the fear of the settlers and tried to, realising they both shared the same sapience (or at least an intelligence that was not well adapted to the daily stress of Vulpin), allowing their kindness to inform the tortugans of their own intelligence in turn.

However over time, evolving not only themselves but the environment around them in small yet incredibly noticeable ways, the nations of vulpimancers (particularly near the original region/s of the settler landing zones) were quick to notice and many quick to anger in reaction to the distortion of THEIR land - their COUNTRY - some even quick to forgo what kindness they had extended to the quivering death fodder. Hodgepodging together shelter from their ship scraps, warped metal and corroded rust making for an ironic newly created collection of beaten up shanty towns, the torugans (on their way to becoming the vulpinic tortugans of the modern era) were either left to fend for themselves as communities of vulpimancers dropped their support or had to rebuild again and again as some ran them out, furious at the junk obstructing their riverways, digging up their plants, and diverting the natural and long studied hunting grounds of their prey. The very rare few communities - or rather, specific individuals - leave the attempts at expansion to run it's course and to meet it's maker at the hands of the weather and wilds seeking to erase the settlers' old technology, truly predating on anything the tortugans have build up whether it be the walls of their home or the flesh beneath their skin.

Unlike the nomadic vulpimancers, the tortugans are sedentary in their housing and are densely packed into small Minitowns so to say, their population never particularly comparable to the large number of vulpimancers. Minitowns are only ever really found in countries that have notable 'places of evil' that the communities of the region avoid like the literal plague, especially areas that not a lot of wildlife disturb, which technically makes for shit city planning since it means prey species and plants aren't nearby in the area, but the tortugans would take anything to get predators off their backs even if it means they need to have their own versions of worker packs. Some Minitowns have actually consulted with a few communities about where best to place a sedentary 'camp' so to speak, which varies given the relationship a specific group or nation of vulpimancers have towards the settlers whether they'd rather hide them away near a cave system that could provide good shelter and cave-dwelling prey, or in specific colder locations where the tortugan-vulpimancer relationship is actually neutral to positive, they might suggest a Minitown to be built adjacent to a winter site to help during what might usually be a deadly chill.

Tortugans however can still be 'on the run' however if they've wondered into regions where vulpimancers hate them, but unfortunately the early settlers who have not yet adapted to the conditions of the planet are run off to die instead. This and the former paragraph would be referred to in modern times as the New Settler policy, more of a general reaction the general vulpimancer had to the tortugans rather than an official decree, but a generalised trend that can all be connected under a retroactive title.

With a somewhat stable environment, the remaining survivors and the descendants of the settlers would have adapted and become the vulpinic tortugans, now able to sustain themselves and not be as entirely reliant on their historical Minitowns; they still aren't an apex predator by any means, nor too far removed from being a prey species, but their poison spines and defense curl allows them not to be completely food. Due to the inherent limitations of even the recommended locations of Minitowns, a fair many tortugans become nomadic out of necessity, the growing number of mouth unable to be filled with the lack of resources. Tortugan and vulpimancer relations are still heavily varied between regions, but with the new nomadic tortugan groups - tending towards groups of friends or small families - there may yet be more opportunity for the two species to bond in the best case scenario. In a neutral but positive case, some countries that had been very hostile to the tortugans may view the up-and-coming nomads to not be as much of a threat to their land and allow them transit, though nothing more and in the most untrusting of cases they'll be escorted to the next border with haste or even only allowing passage if the path to an adjacent nation is otherwise hard to cross over.

Throughout their entire time trying to survive Vulpin, the tortugans previously didn't have enough time to consider anything as formal as politics. With their physical adaptations, now they can enter the world of more unspoken politics that the vulpimancers were already scent deep into, splitting into the primary two demographics of settler and nomad tortugans. Settler tortugans typically stay within the country, even if some may have nomadic tendencies to travel between known Minitowns of the region, often having a specialised class of the worker pack to rely on food and materials; they still cling onto every scrap that their ancestor came with, though they have long forgotten a lot of what they specifically meant to them. Nomadic tortugans can but often don't travel exclusively within their country - a contrast to their neighbouring communities - needing to avoid countries that actively hate them and only occasionally daring to step within countries that tolerate them at BEST but would rather not have to interact with them; they often sympathise with the original vulpimancer communities affected by their coloniser ancestors, those who ultimately failed in their goal regardless, travelling around the world that they know would have had attempts made to terraform it into something unrecognisable should the colonists have had 'better' circumstances to do so.

It was sometime in the modern era that Vulpin began to become an intergalactic dumping ground fueled by the tortugan colonies, or rather the United Tortugan Market - a trade colony built up of several planets within the same system, except for Vulpin - who are filling up with excess waste, recalled that one of their ancestral colony ships failed to produce any results on Vuplin and thus considered it the trash they they dumped onto it. Ignorant not only because the settlers failed to report back about a sapient species, they also wholeheartedly believe that the passengers sent to the planet on that initial voyage died before they could populate, they emptied out their waste bins and tossed them down onto the planet at ranges that would not allow corrosion to interfere with their ships flight. And now, where both the vulpimancer communities - disgruntled about repeated history - and the newly adapted vulpinic tortugans - newly afraid to taste their own ancestors' medicine - have to deal with their lands and homes being ruined and overrun by scraps and busted machines, the UTM begins selling a service to local customers for their new planet sized dump, dubbing it Vulpin: the Market Junkyard.

With the intergalactic trash piling up, destroying the ecosystem, damaging ancient lands and displacing many communities and even whole fucking countries of vulpimancers, new political ideologies start to form. There are the 'fuck aliens' crowds who - despite reluctance - allow for vulpimancer refugees of neighbouring countries, beginning to revert to (or worsing their already bad relationship to the tortugans) xenophobia towards both settler tortugans and nomadic tortugans, some countries turning to the ones cohabiting with them to 'go back to where [they] came from' and leave their planet alone. Others have put their foot down and - essentially - form the political ideology of 'learn to fucking cope' where communities specifically refuse to share their unmarred land to even their fellow countrymancers, splitting off into the 'okay LET'S fucking cope' ideology where the otherwise displaced community in reaction would essentially sever that community's nomadic path from the rest of the country by actively posturing against any movement into what is now deemed their own new country.

The last two ideologies, loosely titled 'maybe we need help' and 'there's too much shit to ignore', mirror the initial settler/nomad tortugan political split that spawned initially from vulpimancer influence. The first ideology works in stark contrast to the 'fuck aliens' ideology where displaced communities find refugee within tortugan settlements, between small families making homes in Minitowns or whole communities and even countries depending helping tortugans with Junkyard Cities - cities that are still only technically about the equivalent for maybe suburbs at most, Vulpin countries aren't particularly large but they are numerous - making use of the intergalactic trash to build homes and (unfortunately) having a steady supply able to repair and maintain them; it is however more common to have Minitowns with a partial nomadic life, even if it's only for the purpose of resources which still stem from their initial hurdles in town construction. The 'too much shit to ignore' ideology mirrors the international tortugan nomads where an entire country's worth of land is filled with rubbish that not even the native wildlife can make use of it's resources buried beneath the scrap, making the region an undeniable dead zone that may bring many species into extinction, if not simply endanger them; international travel would probably only be for family sized groups, probably only families given that, and only if they have experienced enough worker pack members.

Vulpinic tortugans, in contrast to the disgusted and resentful opinions that the vulpimancers hold for the trash piles, generally speaking simultaneously view the growing junkyards as horrendous yet rife with opportunity as the lands they were forced to call home fill with materials they can use to build their homes and potentially enter the stars their ancestors had dreams of one day returning to. Nomadic tortugans are revolted as though this may not have been the terraforming they feared their ancestors could have fallen into doing, they are still affecting the planet as if they were dominating the land with technology and greed, and settler tortugans specifically in areas not yet prone to junkfall do not much benefit from the opportunity they'd provide in order for their opinion to differ from the nomads, unless their worker packs reach further into the the junkyards for 'treasures'. As mentioned in the afforementioned 'we need help' vulpimancer ideology, settler tortugans in junkfall regions would gather around junkyards and build cities from the scraps, using the fact that the wildlife would steer clear of the cluttered regions as a deterrent to the risks of expansion to make larger settlements than they could have otherwise on an untainted Vulpin, especially with the wealth of materials able to maintain the structures of the city. But even the Junkyard Cities require an ample source of food and other resources not found in the trash, so overrun countries and the deep centre of the junkyards forming around the planet cannot support a city of needy people, displaced or otherwise, and thus even the settler tortugans of Junkyard Nations must leave to find greener-but-not-literally pastures; depending on the population of the displaced settler town, they may resettle at the edge of the junkyard to create a city, move even further away to recreate a Minitown just for them, or even become nomads and set a course away from their ruined homes.

With all these broadstroke political ideologies, there is the fundamental truth that within these junkyards houses 'useless garbage' from societies with much higher tech levels sitting in scraps of themselves, the levels ranging from interplanetary to even intergalactic levels of technology that may be broken to the point of being garbage, but their structure still exists and the stray opportunist to take the time to reverse engineer the scraps can do so with lots of trial and error. The tortugans have to learn by this exact trial and error having long forgotten the sciences their ancestors used to strand themselves on Vulpin, and ever watchful the vulpimancers (especially those displaced, especially those cohabiting with the tortugans) keep an open ear (gill?) to the goings on in the junkyards, enough so that a handful of individuals take the same route as their junkyard neighbours to trial and error their own tech.

Leaving a planet and it's inhabitants to rot under the piles of trash and metal you litter it with leaves for bitter peoples who scrap themselves their own frankensteinian machines of your and all your customers' technologies, influencing a rising tide of Vulpin spacefarers that offer no fealty or kindness to the United Tortugan Market your own peoples find respect in. Junker Pirates, you call them, rising from the pitch black of the corrosive atmosphere you first lost a colony fleet to, and how interesting. The settlers DID survive. And they've made pets- or so the tortugans and the rest of the intergalactic community believe.

Pirates are treated like pirates, of course; arrested like the criminals they are. Unfortunately this is one of the first instances of not recognising vulpimancers for the sapient beings that they are, where the vulpinic tortugans - revealed to be the closest cousin species hereditarily to the arburian pelarota, and thus obviously capable of sapience even if 'more feral' 'more savage' 'more undeveloped' - are sentenced to whatever punishment suits the declaration that they are indeed guilty of piracy, the vulpimancer crew on the other hand are treated like trained dogs and sent into the null void where a large population begins to form and a new brand of hostility begins to brew. Given that the vulpimancers with tortugan crew have to actually tolerate the tortugan enough to be isolated on a ship with them, the null void pirates do not generally resent the vulpinic tortugans of the crew, rather they may despise specifically the tortugan cousins or even the UTM, if they do not generalise and grow to hate everyone not from Vulpin. If the tortugan pirate are sent back to their planet - deported so to speak to Vulpin - and carry back the news that the vulpimancer members of their crew were sent to the null void without due processing, new hostilities spark on homeground. Communities that grow to despise the pirates for giving Vulpin and it's newly discovered people an even worse reputation that it already has, those that once again circle back into hating the tortugans - now their reasoning being that they 'keep getting away' from karma and still hurting their vulpimancer kin - and then there are those that grow to hate the intergalactive governments for stealing their family away and locking them between the folds of the dimensions. The pirates are still going to pirate, regardless of if they are breaking their terms by leaving the planet again, and those who have lost crew to the null void seek to find (and steal if necessary) null void technology and in a worst-case scenario memorise the construction of the projectors so they may smuggle back those illegitimately 'processed' back on Vulpin.

Other pirates that are either set free or are bound to fulfill the conditions of community service (which if word ever got back to Vulpin, the returning pirates being the key here, those that resent the intergalactic governments would resent the community service in turn) more often than not find themselves in the long term not returning to Vulpin. The pirate whom were set free may return full force into piracy once again, though this time without their vulpimancer crew - at least those that do not follow through with finding null void tech - and may begin to accrue members of other species into their Junker Ship, if they were open to such ideas. Those that were given community service may learn more about the intergalactic governments and try to find a way to fix their perceptions of vulpinic tortugans, vulpimancers, and Vulpin in it's entirety by eventually settling somewhere where they can begin getting into the far more structured and far more... loophole ridden poiltics of written law and relations. Those in the political field will begin to realise that Vulpin is legally speaking a part of the United Tortugan Market, that it's official name in the colony is Vulpin: the Market Junkyard, and that very distinctly is NOT UNDER THE 'OWNERSHIP' VULPIN'S OWN PEOPLES. The ex-pirates that happen to return home, learning a little of the politics if they are not politicians themselves, spread the news back home inciting others (including the very fucking understandably furious vulpimancers) to potentially engage in interplanetary and intergalactic politics of their own, especially vulpimancers who are tired of others - which includes the vulpinic tortugans who have been the most vocal not necessarily by choice, mind - speaking over them.

The introduction of interplanetary and intergalactic communications, even if it is limited to visitations as the environment in Vulpin (especially with Junkfalls now present as an element worry about) makes setting up a communications array for the height required to transmit and receive signals rather difficult on a good day, let alone a day shared with very... opinionated communities, has allowed for the ability to access foreign language and common symbols that can help with interspecies relations. Or hinder them, if you teach a very well used universal 'fuck you' sign to a very understandably pissed vulpimancer forced to be treated like an animal deaf to all the words being spoken around them. The access to language also helps form the first technologies allowing for Vulpin languages to be added to translators. However, with a lot of the languages in the intergalactic community having their own writing system (with Vulpin languages not needing a writing system for the longest time), the previously unwritten Vulpin languages are given one by the vulpinic tortugans who use a carved variety of and Old Tortugan writing system and transliterate many of the sounds, especially vulpimancer languages as unlike Vulpin tortugan languages, the sounds did not already have close equivalents. Writing it planetside is often done with sheets of metal rather than wasting plant material, but intergalactically with sighted individuals it is written on the average data screen.

With it's basis in Old Tortugan, modern tortugan languages with the same root language such as Arburian languages, not only can tortugans begin to read Vulpin languages, but anyone who has knowledge on tortugan languages can engage with Vulpin languages more thoroughly than they were able to previously. Which considering they considered the vulpinic tortugans as the 'most' sapient of the Vulpin species despite them both speaking in what essentially amounts to growls and yamper, is quite significant of a development, even as it is functionally once again removing the voice of vulpimancers in favour of the tortugan voice. Sometimes vulpimancer politicians are willing to let that slide in favour of being understood, walking around with tortugan liasons who have the mouth structure in other to reciprocate more common intergalactic languages. Other vulpimancer politicians refuse to rely on their fellow Vulpin national to speak for them and instead insist on using some newly created translators fitted with their relevant Vulpinic language pack, speaking for themselves with a voice technically not theirs but one that they can assuredly say voices their own personal experiences.

On Vulpin, there is a growing community of junkers, a variety of members not exactly connected like the communities of vulpimancers and their own ideologies made up of tortugans and vulpimancers (often called weirdos mostly because of their more nontraditional tortugan-like behaviour and interests), who spend most of their time in the junkyards scrapping together all the tech tossed homeward bound into their lands to develop distinctly Vulpinic technology. Unlike the pirates - which if questioned, they'll say they 'heeded the warnings' from the pirates and elect not to fall into the same trap - Junkers often remain on ground zero and don't actively seek out revenge, not like they are suddenly so much kinder than the Junker Pirates, but rather they use their pretty fucking justified anger to fuel their projects and scavenger hunts; it's also not like they're push overs with hearts of gold either, especially since some a working on building pretty powerful machines that could be considered weapons, they WILL defend themselves and they have quite a bit of faith in their abilities. And remaining on the planet is quite the majority of the vulpimancer communities, and not just the xenophobic ones, as they have unlike the politically motivated interplanetary travelers they choose to remain in their home territories (or as close as they can if they are one of the displaced communities). They are the communities and countries that try to maintain the general political interactions between each other that had been present for a long time within their evolutionary history, which does mean they do not explicitly care about the interplanetary affairs beyond hoping that the Vulpin politicians can get them to stop using the planet as a dumping ground. They - unless otherwise stated in their individual political ideologies - do not care to pay much attention to the weirdo vulpimancers and the alien tortugan who are a very clear example of how no other alien is likely to decide to live on Vulpin willingly ever.

One of the first interplanetary organisations that Vulpin and it's peoples were introduced to were the Plumbers, and given that their first interaction was with the Junker Pirates and their very severe sentences, Vulpin and Vulpin officials stationed even in government bodies are rather typically ACAB (or I suppose APAB, All Plumbers are Bastards), and many of the politicians are moving to get legally defined rights not just for the recently reintroduced vulpinic tortugans but also the very hard to fight for, very tooth and nail political clambering, establishment of rights for vulpimancers as well. Regardless of how well the pirates are breaking out the members of their crew from the null void, getting the official rights to trial and thus the ability to call the illegitimate processing of vulpimancer pirates as a violation of a vulpimancer's sapient rights and thus hopeful (doubtfully) garner some consequences for the hasty arrest of the early pirates. Politicians were also attempting to get the rights for Vulpin into the legal 'ownership' of the people of Vulpin, specifically recognising the vulpimancers as the original custodians of the land and respecting the national land of the vulpinic totugans that have evolved to live on Vulpin, but in order to do so they would need to actively find the current root owner of Vulpin within the United Tortugan Market. As much as the pirates and all those resentful of the intergalactic governments and the UTM would have liked to tear at the throats of the trade colony, the Vulpin representatives are in a tentative situation trying to prove not only the species' sapience, securing the rights in which that is allotted with, but also that the peoples are of... sound sociability in order to gain any semblance of recognition of being even a national people.

It is with the arrival of the tick on Arburia that presented an... ample opportunity to try and... convince the United Tortugan Market of that 'sound sociability' and potentially... a bargaining chip to their own planet's ownership. As much as the potential of damning an entire planet to suffer in ways similar to how they have suffered was very appealing, it would have been significantly detrimental to the work the politicians and the future of Vulpin against the tide of Junkfalls if they left the innocents of Arburia to die or to in fact use them as hostages to outweigh the biases to give them their legal ownership. Instead, at the begging of Vulpin representatives - with the help of the onboard communications of Junker Ships and the pirates that drove them - the members and species of Vulpin gambled on kindness and sought to rescue and save the arburian pelarota and their families like the early vulpimancers once did with the early tortugan settlers, ships lined full of fleeing families even as the government heads of the UTM began to panic upon seeing the pirate ships, especially when infamous crews and ships began to be sighted. Arburian pelarota's, being exposed in their time of need to the act of kindness from both vulpinic tortugans (which they believed to be more violent cousins) AND vulpimancers (where they had been wrongly informed where simple trained animals) had allowed them to understand their mutual sapience, regardless of the roughened and angry exterior of the peoples of Vulpin in addition to their nature as pirates. Fully willing to deliver the inhabitants of Arburia (which, they were not the only ship fleet, but they were the ones willing to keep searching even as the planet was in it's death marches) onto solid ground within the UTM colonies, they seek to enter the atmosphere of any of the requested planets. Hesitantly, not willing to let pirates into their planets, it was at the behest of their Aburian inhabitants that they allow the Junker Ships entry. It is with the evacuation of Arburia that Vulpin gained it's first ally.

It does not mean they suddenly have all the goals they have set out to do, but it means there is someone who is not themselves who have a ball in their court.

[murdleandmarot]

The gang’s all here!! They’re on the case!! And there’s no ghost that they wouldn’t chase!!!!!

@mysticalcats’s Foxglove, @toki-toro’s Chaumet, @emimii’s Clownaire, and my own Bluebelle :)

[localgardenweed]

Also forgot to share this beauty i drew a few days ago

[aromanticannibal]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[ofsluts]

Anyways pls rec me some dumbass (kids) cartoon that's just... silly af and doesn't deal with too dark topics, preferably something that has MANY seasons, but also isn't completely abhorrent and obnoxious ??

[seilon]

no like when I say any answer on the queerest city poll that’s not San Fran is wrong I mean it is factually and historically WRONG

[welcometogrouchland]

It's either coming up to my period again OR I've just developed a disease where I get misty eyed at even the most banal sequences and scenes in ghibli movies. I was crying during the early parts of ponyo

[fragmentedblade]

I've been reading about xiangqi a bit and now I'm even more obsessed with that one video of Jing Yuan

[todayisafridaynight]

YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEE PRICELESS IS SO GOOD RIGHT... LOVE THE ENDING FOR THAT... and very much anticipating First Penguin's... which I am DETERMINED to continued today... I feel bad for falling behind because I ended up binging a whole anime yesterday since the secondary protagonist was based on Tsutsumi and lost track of Fucking Everything 😭😭😭he is so cute though😚

OH BUT YEAH I played DQXI's demo [the first ten hours of the game or so]... yeaaahhhh... definitely that kind of game for me too... but I hope whenever you get back to it you have a good time! I may not know a thing about Metroid but I am also happy to hear it was an enjoyable experience overall :] I enjoy the tag rambles very much :]

REGARDLESS... EPIC... I HOPE YOU ENJOY SP... OR AT THE VERY LEAST I HOPE YOU CAN STICK WITH IT UNTIL IT BECOMES ENJOYABLE...

AND YOU'RE JUST NOT GOING TO DROP THE TITLE so mean telling me about all these interesting things to watch and not sharin the title (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

TEN HOURS FOR THE DEMO ??? long as hell demo... OH BUT NO i love the games a lot !! ive followed the series for a while since. i do have that dragon ball/toriyama fanatic in me unfortunately even if i dont like toriyama himself ☠️☠️ i only really got to actually start one of the games last year when my bro got DQXI for me and ive been loving it so far (*￣▽￣*)ミ|Ю

i've BEEN enjoying it so far !! i'm just about to start episode four tho i AM gonna lose my mind if this hospital arc goes on one more episode bro this half the series already ☠️

[neverendingford]

.

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt my nuggets again. Explodes them.

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[introvertedeviant]

Yall life is so CRAZYY, I’m going back to school this summer lmaooo

[boyapologist]

called in sick for work for the first time today and I feel so fucking guilty

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[augustinewrites]

cw: pregnancy

“when you said we were sneaking out to go for a ride, i didn't think you meant that,” you sigh, breathless but content as you slump against your husband’s chest.

“deep breaths, darling,” diluc encourages, fingertips brushing down your spine. it makes him think of before, of juvenile fumbling and embarrassment. he’s much less chaste now. confident in his touches and his ability to please you. “why let the horses have all the fun?”

“you’ve been spending too much time with kaeya,” you grumble.

“i agree. it’s why i had to sneak away from his party with you.”

“your party,” you correct, letting him twine your fingers with yours. just like he had earlier, when he’d convinced you to sneak out of the surprise birthday party thrown in his honour. “the guests are likely looking for you.”

diluc’s used to being the center of attention. he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but his day-to-day is filled with employees searching for his signature or potential clients seeking his participation on new ventures. as the king of the wine industry, he’s possibly the most in-demand person in mondstadt.

but their attention is nothing compared to yours. you’re his favourite person.

“you didn't even make it to the cake,” you add, shifting in his lap. “which means they'll be looking for us soon.”

he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles and making your heart flutter. “i've already had dessert.”

your face warms considerably against his skin as he chuckles, releasing your hand in favour of slowly smoothing his palm down your side, resting on your hip. he’s more than content to abandon his birthday party entirely in favour of being here in bed, watching the sunset over the fields of your home and bathing you both in golden light.

“well, it’s your birthday party,” you say softly. “even if your actual birthday is two days away, i still want you to have everything you could possibly want. and if what you want is to sneak away from your party to bed me so thoroughly, who am i to argue?”

his heart starts to thump so loudly in his chest that he fears you can hear it. he does want something else, an answer to a question that’s been stifled by shyness, fear, and uncertainty.

“and if i wanted…something else?”

your fingers trace idle patterns across his arm as you hum. “i’d do my best to give it to you.”

he knows you would. which is why he’s been waiting, making sure you want this just as much as he does.

“kaeya said something to me earlier,” he starts.

“please tell me this doesn't end with you hitting him.”

“of course not.” well, not this time. “he asked when i would make him an uncle.”

your movements pause, and diluc wonders if he'd messed up, if it was too soon–

you sit up immediately, grasping his shoulders. “he told you i was pregnant, didn't he? i knew adelaide wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. she’s been knitting baby socks since last week.”

wait.

wait.

“you’re–”

“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you deflate, a frown tugging on your pretty lips. “on your real birthday. adelinde was the only one i told, only because she’d caught me throwing up in the rose bush she’d just pruned and insisted i get checked…”

diluc’s hardly hearing you, your rambling slowing to a stop as he holds your face in his hands.

he needs to hear you say it.

“we’re having a baby?”

you place your hands atop his, nodding. “we’re having a baby, diluc.”

he presses his lips against yours, one firm kiss before he rests his forehead against yours. you are and will always be his favourite person, the only one who could give him a gift as special as this.

_____

BONUS:

“lavender bisque. whispering peach. sweet potato surprise…” adelinde murmurs, hunched over a few sheets of paper.

“what is that? is that the menu for tomorrow’s party?” kaeya asks, peeking over her shoulder.

adelinde sighs, shaking her head. “they're sample colours i had sent over for the nursery.”

“nursery?”

“yes–” the colour drains from the poor woman’s face as she realizes her slip. “oh dear!”

the realization takes a few moments to sink into the cavalry captain’s “my brother had sex?!”

for @mydiluc aka mrs diluc ragnvindr for listening to my endless rambles...and also diluc bday fic!!!