#if I do come up w a title while I’m writing it goes in a comment on the doc

[yersina]

Title Tag Game

Thanks to @lunaryugamine for tagging me!!

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippit or tell them something about it.

This isn’t everything in my WIPs bc there’s some stuff I’ve been publishing on anon but it’s almost everything in my recents folder that I’ve either been working on or hope to come back to someday!

hq x kn8 crossover au

hoshi/mina/kafka

precanon hoshinaru

kn8 supernatural au

inuokko snapshots

mafia jangchu continuation?

flower shop tattoo shop

catboy

ace!jaeyoung

ace!sangwoo pt2

ace!sangwoo pt3

part switch sangwoo jaeyoung

joowon ocpd fic??

I’m gonna cap it here bc otherwise this’ll go on forever lol

I’ll pass the tag along to @butterfirefly @tploz @chanisangels @sctir and anyone else who might want to participate! :)

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

then send me a son

pairing: joel miller x reader

cws/tags: so much angst (w/ happy ending! i swear), discussion of suicide attempt (the canon one), suicidal ideations, losing a child, losing a parent, survivors guilt, discussions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy, p in v, oral sex, virginity loss (but it's not that big of deal/not a kink), both dealing w grief, ellie is dead, this is set in jackson post tlou pt I

summary: joel is put on suicide watch after he returns to jackson w/o ellie and reader becomes his 'caregiver' of sorts. lowkey enemies to lovers but also not bc it's kinda one-sided 'hatred'

a/n: author is pro-choice! and also understands the complexities of mental health that reader and joel do not at times (just wanted to make it clear that i understand... from personal experience... what depression is like as well as suicidal ideation).

title is from the song 'the suburbs' by arcade fire, but listen to the entirety of the suburbs (album) and funeral (album) if you want to understand my mindframe while writing this

the last sentence is a quote and i've reblogged it before but i'll find the image and post it/reblog it again

wc: 9.4k

masterlist | ko-fi | taglist

Joel is just surprised Tommy has the gall to ask, “Where’s Ellie?” when he arrives in Jackson alone. 

In this world, when two people leave and only one comes back, you don’t ask because you already know what happened. You wait for that person to tell you about a miracle, and when they don’t, you know for sure. 

“Heaven, if you believe in that sort of thing,” is Joel’s response. 

But Joel doesn’t believe in Heaven or Hell, or anything other than ashes and dirt. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Tommy says because he’d already said ‘I’m sorry’ when Sarah died, and that didn’t bring her back. 

It takes a hefty amount of booze to get Joel to tell the story.

“I just hope she died for something. Then, at least, I’ll know I’m being selfish.”

I didn’t get that with Sarah, he thinks. She didn’t die for a ‘noble cause’. He doubts Ellie did either. 

“You’re being put on watch,” Maria tells him the next morning – when he’s sober and asking what his duties are now that he’s back. 

Life goes on, which means work goes on, so what’s my job? As long as it’s not burning bodies, I’ll be okay. 

“Watch? Like I’m watching, or I’m being watched.”

“Being watched.”

He asks why, though he doesn’t need to. Tommy knows why he’s got that scar on his forehead. 

“Fucking authoritarian bullshit,” he mutters, half into his pillow. “Thought you were a communist.”

“I am. And this has nothing to do with that.”

“I bet Tommy put you up to it anyway.”

“He didn’t ‘put me up to anything’.”

“But he told you, didn’t he?”

“He told me a long time ago.”

“Figures. You always knew I was a coward.”

“You say stuff like that, and then act like you don’t need help.”

“I didn’t say I don’t need help. I said I don’t want it.”

She’s silent, letting him continue. “Now let me grieve in peace, will you?”

She hums something akin to agreement, but asks for something that sounds like protest to him. “Where’s your gun?”

“Which one?”

“All of ‘em.”

He tells her because he doesn’t want Tommy or anyone else searching through all his bullshit because that’s what happens if he doesn’t give ‘em up.

“Want my kitchen knives too?” he says, almost wryly. 

She takes most of them, but leaves the more blunt ones out of sympathy. He can have butter on his toast. Unless she takes the toaster so he can’t take it with him in the bathtub. 

She leaves the toaster, and then, leaves him alone. 

Quite frankly, he’s too old to kill himself. Sure, people do it at his age, but he’s so goddamn tired. Moreover, he knows he could get someone else to do it pretty easily. Maybe he could be a martyr. He could save someone from a clicker or a soldier. He could save someone’s life for once. But would that be enough to save his soul? To make it to Heaven and see Ellie and Sarah again?

Maybe, he would, if God really does love people the way some say he does. But if Joel was God, he’d deny himself entry.

He stays in bed for the rest of the day. Aside from the two times he eats. And once in the middle of the night to take a piss because he may be depressed, but the last of his dignity is motivation enough not to wet the bed. 

He doesn’t shower or change his clothes. Not like he’s wearing a shirt anyway, just boxers ‘cause it’s too hot outside and he doesn’t want to get up and turn on the fan. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but it comes. It comes because it has to, reluctant as it is.

He wakes up to the voice of an unfamiliar woman. Quieter than Ellie or Sarah, less stern than Maria or Tess. Not like he was expecting to hear from three out of four of those women, not outside of his dreams. 

You’ve always cared about people, saving lives and all that. But you’re no good with a gun, so Tommy finds a better job than patrol for you.  

“You’re going to be watching my brother, Joel.”

“Like, spying on him?”

“No, like making sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

A suicidal man is nothing new, especially in this world, but Tommy’s bluntness about it is. He acts as if it’s a normal job. Like the ones in office buildings that sound wonderful even though the people who tell you about them assure you it was barely better than life is now. This new watchmen position is the same as patrol, in a way. Terrifying in the gravity it holds. You have to keep someone alive.

You can shoot deer, you can run quickly, you can hide well. You can survive on your own. But, at age 10, your mom bled out as you sat by her side. You were too weak to carry her, to dig a grave and bury her. Your survival feels unearned, but you’re no good with guns. You’d miss if you tried to do it. That’s a rare thought anyway, and surely not one you plan to ever speak aloud. They’d put you on watch too, which sounds suffocating, in all honesty.

You don’t know Joel. You’ve heard his name in passing, but you arrived in Jackson during the period of time he was gone. He was going to take some girl to some hospital for something or other. 

“What about that girl?” you ask. “Is she not taking care of him?”

“She’s not around anymore.”

“Oh,” you say. 

He just nods. The ‘why’ of the whole arrangement makes sense, but you’re still unclear on the ‘how’. Am I just supposed to stay in his house 24/7? Is he allowed to shower on his own? Do I have to cook or do laundry?

“Just check in on him. He’s not the most… personable, but don’t take anything he says to heart.”

Just check in on him. It sounds simpler than it will be, you know that much. Even keeping a plant alive takes more than ‘checking in on it’. 

You arrive at his house around 10 AM. You assume he’ll be awake, but when you look around his living room and kitchen, you can’t find him. Oh God, you think. What if he’s… 

He’s asleep in bed. You’re pretty sure. He’s lying there and there’s no evidence that anything’s wrong, but when you say his name from the doorway, he doesn’t move. So, you walk closer to him, just to make sure he’s breathing. 

“Joel,” you say softly – because your other option is reaching out to touch him, and you feel that’s a little too personal, especially when he’s not wearing a shirt. 

“Who the Hell are you and how did you get into my house?” he says. 

“Tommy sent me.”

“Oh, so they’re making you watch me?”

“Yeah.”

You’re glad he knows about the arrangement. Maybe he’ll give you some direction on what to do with him. 

“Must hate you if they stuck you with me.” 

You can’t tell if he’s being ironic, but you hope so. Still, you don’t know how to respond. You decide on a simple, “I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

Though you’re alone in the room, you sit with perfect posture on Joel’s couch, looking around at the decor – or lack thereof – looking for clues about who this man is. 

You think about making him breakfast, but you’d have to raid his cabinets to do so, and you’re terrified to make any missteps when it comes to Joel. You don’t think he’ll kill himself over burnt toast, but there is a persistent need lodged inside your brain to make him like you. It’s a little selfish when you should be focused on just keeping him alive, but maybe if he likes you, he’ll feel better, maybe you’ll feel better too. That’s still nothing but the ever-lingering hope in your heart. But it’s something.

He comes downstairs eventually, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms. 

“Good morning,” you say. 

“No, it ain’t,” he says, heading in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Do you want me to help you with anything? Breakfast or coffee?”

“I can make my own damn coffee, kid.”

And he does. The first shred of kindness you get from him is an offer to pour you a cup. 

“I’m alright, but thank you.”

He sits down in a chair across from you and sips his coffee as you watch him awkwardly. 

“Are you really gonna do that all day?”

“Do what?”

“Sit there and stare at me.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“You could leave, for starters.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“What? You afraid Tommy’ll get upset with you?”

“A little.”

“He’s a softie. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You are worried. Sure, you want Tommy to be happy with you, but moreover, you don’t want to leave Joel alone lest something happen to him. You might not know the guy very well, but you’d hate to see someone take their own life. 

“Can I just stay here? I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

He shrugs, and you take it as a yes.

He does not need a caregiver or a watchman. He does not need you, but you look like a kicked puppy and there’s no way he’ll force you to leave. Another young girl he’ll reluctantly let stick by his side. It’s almost cruel of Tommy to send someone like you. Someone young and full of life. Someone he has a hard time pushing away. 

He should’ve sent Joel a crotchety old bitch or a drill sergeant. Maybe Tommy thinks he’s doing Joel a favor by giving him a nice girl, polite and eager to please. It’s a good thing your chipper attitude irritates him. It’s the first item on the very small list of qualities that Joel dislikes.

At first, he insists on making his own food. You’re still a guest, even if he’s reluctant to have you as one. It doesn’t matter where he lives, he’ll always have been raised in Texas. He’ll always hear his mother calling him out on his lack of manners. His hospitality is force of habit.

Plus, if he lets you do anything for him, he’ll owe you something – at least in his mind. And he doesn’t want to owe anyone anything. He doesn’t want to give or get or build any kind of rapport with you whatsoever, especially since you seem to take all attention as progress, despite the fact that Joel is harsh with you most of the time. 

The whole ordeal makes him feel like more of a failure than he did before. He couldn’t save Ellie, or Sarah for that matter, and now he’s being forced into his own retirement or held hostage depending on how you look at it, so he can’t even get the satisfaction that productivity brings.

He also finds himself pretty fucking bored without work. He became so used to being in constant battle, even in his sleep. One wrong move and he was dead. The worst injury he’s gotten in the past few weeks was a paper cut.

Reading was never his biggest hobby, but it’s not bad when you find the right book. Often, you’ll sit across the room from him and read a book of your own, and the silence as he relaxes into the couch is quite peaceful for a change. 

No amount of peace and quiet can cure his boredom, though. It makes him antsy, and you notice. You notice a lot when your job is just staring at him, it seems.

“I found a book of crossword puzzles,” you announce. 

“Congratulations,” Joel says. 

“I thought since you were bored, I’d give them to you, and maybe you could do them…”

By the look on your face, he can guess that you’re regretting your words. Lest he make you cry, he accepts the book. 

“Plus, it looks kind of old so I don’t know if I’d know how to do it myself,” you add.

He knows you don’t mean it as an insult, but it sounds like one, and it makes him laugh. The list of qualities Joel likes about you is already long — and buried deep in his subconscious — but he’ll have to add the fact that you can make him laugh.

“Are you calling me old?”

“Not in a bad way. You’re just older than I am.”

He flips through the book and finds that about 80% of them are done. 

“Somebody did most of these already.”

“I’m sorry… maybe I could erase that person’s answers and then you could do them?”

“I think I’d still be able to tell.”

You hang your head in defeat. 

“Gimme a pencil and I’ll try the ones that aren’t done yet.”

You look through his junk drawer, find a pencil, and hand it to him. He doesn’t expect you to sit on the couch next to him. 

“I know you’re supposed to watch me, but you don’t have to watch that closely.”

You move away slightly, no longer looking over his shoulder. 

“I was just curious about the answers.”

“I was kidding around,” he says (though, it’s only a half-truth). “Come back here.”

It takes him about a week to finish the book. 

“Had to go back and fix some of the others,” he says. “The person who originally filled ‘em out was an idiot.”

“That’s not very nice. Maybe it was a kid.”

“Kid had great handwriting, then.”

You pause, hesitating for a reason he can’t pinpoint. 

“What? You want me to say sorry for calling that guy an idiot. ‘Cause I will if it matters that much to you.”

“No, no, fuck that guy, he was an idiot,” you say, clearly taking after him. 

“Language, Missy,” he says, jokingly scolding you. 

“Sorry. I should stop swearing.”

“It’s okay. You probably picked it up from me anyway.”

“Maybe,” you agree. You’re fidgeting, holding something behind your back, he notices. 

“Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” you say, holding it out to him. “I just figured since you finished the crossword book, I should get you more.”

He only did the crosswords for you. He never really cared for them anyway. He just wanted to make you happy — he’d rather have you content than pissy or whiny. The only thing worse than your constant insistence on getting his approval would be if you just sat there and cried all day.

He’d tried to give the book back to you, but you couldn’t do ‘em on your own since you were lacking in 90s pop culture knowledge. So, he did them, with you watching over his shoulder the whole time. 

He’s about to admit this to you and hand the new one back over to you when he looks at the pages – white paper, stapled together, all drawn up in pen. 

“Did you make these?” he asks, in awe of both your ability to draw perfectly straight lines, and moreover, how much you must care if you’re willing to go to these lengths. Kiss-ass behavior, he tells himself.

You nod, and he gets the sudden urge to hug you, but opts for a thank you with a smile he can’t repress.

“You didn’t have to do all this, but it’s very sweet of you.”

He considers taking back the ‘very sweet’ comment when he finds that 3 down is four letters with the prompt “grumpy old man”. JOEL fits perfectly in the blank spaces. 

You go on walks, read endless books, and Joel finally lets you start taking on some of the housework. It should be nice, but you get the feeling he’s not all that happy about this situation. Not that he tells you it outright. He doesn’t tell you much at all. And you’ve tried. It’s not like you’re asking hard-hitting questions. 

“How old are you?” 

“56.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

He doesn’t even bother to ask the same question back to you. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look up at you when you speak to him. You know it’s the depression of losing someone close to you, you know what that feels like – the problem is, you don’t know how to fix it. You only know how to hide it.

It’s quite simple, in theory. All you have to do is give him the desire to get out of bed every day. But you don’t even know what he likes. All you know is that your presence is not high on his list of favorite things. You try and try until you swear his shitty attitude is rubbing off on you. 

Tommy checks in with you periodically, asking you how things are going with Joel, and this would be the perfect opportunity for you to get out of this position, which Joel would probably love, but to spite him, you tell Tommy it’s going well.

And it is, in a way – Joel is not actively mean to you. He doesn’t insult you or argue with you, he just mostly ignores you. So, you figure if you ignore him, maybe he’ll miss your attention. Stupid teenage bullshit mindset, acting like you have a crush on him, playing some sort of push and pull game that he’s not even privy to. 

But that’s not like you. That brooding behavior is all Joel, so it lasts no more than a day or so until you go back to trying, and accept the fact that he’s just an asshole. Doesn’t mean you have to be one. 

You never expected to win him over with the crossword puzzles but you see the look in his eyes when you give him the homemade ones, and you know there’s something in there besides all that pain. You know that look, can’t put a name to it, all you know is that it’s a good sign, one you had yet to see from Joel.

Joel wouldn’t have thought he’d get tired of hearing someone ask, “can I do anything for you?”, constantly begging to dote on him, to care for him. The last time someone did this for him was on Father’s Day, which is an ancient holiday now, almost mythical.

But it’s been weeks of the same old shit. It has nothing to do with you. In fact, you’re probably the best ‘caregiver’ he could’ve gotten stuck with. Thing is, though, he doesn’t want a caregiver, and he’s tired of said caregiver bombarding him. It’s enough to just have her watching him like a hawk, but yapping in his ear is another thing. Because he enjoys the quiet (and because the way you ask him questions reminds him of Ellie.)

It’s a joke, a stupid joke. It’s his patience wearing thin.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask. 

“Sure. A beer, maybe. And a fuckin’ blowjob,” he mutters. Yeah, that’d be the dream but it’s a joke, bordering on a jab at you. 

“I don’t think we have any beer,” you say. You both know damn well there’s no alcohol in the house. 

“I know.”

“And, as for the other thing- is that something that you’d want… me to do?”

“Hey,” his tone softens. “Sweetheart, it was a joke. I was messing with you.”

“Okay, so you don’t want that, correct?”

“It was a joke. I’m sorry I even said it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, sheepishly. “It’s your house, your rules, right?”

The concept of free speech in his house was one he’d brought up regarding ‘swear words’— It’s his house so he’s allowed to say ‘fuck’, ‘shit’, ‘bitch’, and every other word he could come up with, and he came up with some deep cuts just to make you laugh. Admittedly, it’s a nice sound.

“Yeah.” He thinks for a moment. “I just think that these sorts of topics aren’t appropriate for someone…”

“You know I’m an adult, right, Joel?”

“Yes, I know, but you’re still young and you seem a little innocent. I don’t want to put those types of thoughts in your head.”

“I know what a blowjob is, and I know what sex is. I just haven’t found the right person yet. That doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about it or whatever.”

You rarely snap at him, so he knows that word — innocent — must’ve been more offensive than he’d meant it. Maybe you’re not innocent. Maybe you’re just kind and a hell of a lot younger than him. Maybe it just seems like you should be.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just saying that I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“But do you want it?” You punctuate every word with a newfound annoyance.

“It’s not about that.”

“Yes it is.” You’re quite incredulous for someone who has been presented with the idea only a moment ago.

“Fine. Yes, in theory, if we were just two people who know each other, then, sure, if you offered, I’d say yes.”

“I offered.”

The way he calls you ‘sweetheart’ feels more like an insult than a term of endearment. You’d rather be ‘kid’ or nothing at all, anything less patronizing. It’s worse when he calls you innocent. You’re not innocent, you’re just nice — something that Joel is not. You’re painfully nice. You’ve heard it makes people like you. You’re still waiting on the results, though.

But, if he’d ordered you to suck him off, you’d have kneed him in the balls, and he would’ve thought twice about calling you ‘sweetheart’. The thing is, he doesn’t. Instead, he backs away from the opportunity, tells you it was a joke. 

But you see two things behind his eyes: one, he wants this. He might not want to want this, but he does. More importantly, you see his genuine concern for your well-being override this desire and you realize you feel safer around him than you do around most men. That’s one of the reasons that you do give him ‘a fuckin’ blowjob’. The other being that, sometimes, before you go to bed, you can’t sleep, and a certain man comes to mind as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. 

When you reiterate that you offered, you exchange a long stare wherein you try to reach into each other’s souls and sort this shit out but when you both realize you can’t, Joel says, “Okay.”

And you say, “Okay.”

A new kind of tension bubbles to the surface as Joel sits down on the couch and you kneel before him. 

You fiddle with his belt, eventually managing to get it undone, but Joel does the rest of the work it takes to get his pants down to his ankles, boxers too. 

You’d imagined he’d be big, but that’s how fantasies work. Every man’s dick is big in your lewd daydreams, but it’s like you manifested it with Joel. You begin to feel like you’re in over your head, and though you aren’t innocent, you aren’t experienced enough to take him. But who are you to back down from a challenge?

Joel can see hesitation wash over your face for the first time. You pause, study the scene like you’re trying to decide your approach, and then you take his cock in your hand, looking up at him like you’re asking for the green light.

He gives you the go-ahead with the only piece of advice he thinks you’ll need. “Just don’t bite, and you’ll do fine.”

He probably should’ve mentioned another thing: don’t take too much at once or you’ll choke. His head lolls back and his eyes fall closed the moment your lips meet the tip of it. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t want you to feel intimidated by his presence while you’re exploring, so to speak. He lets out a low groan of approval to let you know he’s still with you.

But he’s fading into a beautiful oblivion until he hears you gag, feels you sputter and it shocks him out of that blissful feeling. His eyes snap open and he cradles the back of your head. 

“Easy, easy,” he says. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

You pull away briefly and catch your breath. 

“That’s good,” he says. “Breathe, baby.”

He can see you looking for instructions, so he takes your hand and helps you get a firm grip on his cock, sliding your hand up and down, and finally letting you do it on your own. 

“Doin’ good, baby,” he says. “You gotta give your mouth a break sometimes.”

You’ve never gotten anything close to praise from Joel before. It’d warm your heart like nothing else if it weren’t so goddamn sexy in this context. 

You nod, wipe the spit from your chin, and give your mouth a brief break, but you can’t hold yourself back forever. Soon, your lips are back on his cock, kissing from the base to the tip, flicking your tongue over the head, seeing what reactions you can get from him. 

When you get into the rhythm of hand and mouth in tandem, you barely register him telling you that he’s gonna come. 

You imagine it’s an acquired taste but it’s not awful. You can swallow it. So, you do, and you look up at him with a smile. 

He looks like he’s woken up from a dream and he’s still getting his bearings straight, but he’s quick to stand up and take your hand. 

“Where are we going?”

“To my bed.”

You’d follow him anywhere but bed does sound good to you right now. It sounds like an adventure. You don’t go into his bedroom unless absolutely necessary. You’d think he was hiding something horrible in there if you didn’t have a mutual feeling regarding your own bedroom.

“Are we going to have sex?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Then, what are we going to do?”

“You,” he begins. “Are going to lie back and relax.”

He coaxes you to lie down, and he doesn’t have to try hard. 

“I,” he continues. “Am going to make you feel good.”

You’re fairly certain about what he means, so there’s nothing left for you to do but let him do the work. It’s just another part of the job you’ll have to learn from experience.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says. 

You nod. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he says, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. 

“Wait-” you say, sitting up, and he withdraws. “Can we kiss… first?”

He looks surprised for a moment, and you worry you’ve fucked up. 

“I just feel like we should do that,” you say, much quieter.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess that makes sense.”

His hand cups your cheek and he looks you in the eyes like he’s trying to find answers somewhere in there. 

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?”

“Not really, not the way I want you to kiss me.”

“Feels a bit rude of me to have put my dick in your mouth before you’d even been kissed.”

Still, he leans in and kisses you, but it’s soft, gentle. It’s not a peck on the lips, though, it’s more. It gradually gains momentum and passion. Eventually, he slips his tongue in your mouth and you take it in stride. 

“You’re very good at this,” he says. “If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t think this was your first time.”

“Is that a compliment?” you ask, doubting Joel is capable of such things.

He ignores your question, and sighs. You know it’s not directed at you because you’re fairly sure he’s not listening.

“I know I said I was gonna do some things with you, but I don’t wanna take things too fast, okay?”

“Are you saying you’re just going to kiss me?”

“I think that’d be the right thing to do.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

You wish you could sound sexy, or whatever, but you probably come off like a bratty child.  

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not fair. You said you’d make me feel good. I thought you were gonna return the favor.”

“I was.”

“Then, why are you backing out?”

You’re shocked that he’s the pussy — pun-intended — in this scenario.

“I thought it might be too much for you.”

You grab his hand and slip it under the flimsy fabric of your shorts. 

His eyes go wide. 

Fucking hell, you’re wet, is the only thought on Joel’s mind. It makes sense. He’d be offended, maybe even worried if you were dry as a desert down there, but he’s barely touched you. Either you really enjoyed kissing him or you actually liked sucking him off too.

He gently presses the pads of his fingers against the wet spot on your panties.

“You’re right, baby. It’s only fair if I help you out.”

He’s able to get your shorts and your panties down in one swift pull. You look impressed by the action. Just you wait, he thinks. He’s not an expert by any means, but it’s not too hard to learn if you pay attention — and sex is one of the only times Joel does listen — it’s also not a skill you lose over time. It’s muscle memory, or maybe it’s innate.

His thumb rubs your clit lazily as he watches your face scrunch up in pleasure, your eyes fill with need. When the first finger slips inside you, he hears a breathy sigh come from above — it sounds like relief though he knows you haven’t come yet.

He’s never had a woman have such a strong reaction to his lips on her clit. It almost startles him at first. You’re frantic from the moment his lips meet your skin, crying out for him like you’re scared he’ll stop.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m right here. Don’t have to get so worked up. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He can’t say another word because his lips are occupied, so he relies on his hands, his soothing touch, to tell you that everything is alright. He gets the urge to tell you how good you are for him, how good you taste, how pretty you are like this, but he knows it’d be cruel to let up now. He’s callous often, sometimes harsh, but rarely cruel.

His instinct tells him to drag this out, to make your thighs shake, to have tears running down your cheeks, to tease you. To be the asshole that he tends to be when you’re around (and when you’re not). This is a version of Joel you might come to like.

He’s lived long enough to be well-practiced in this field of life. Doesn’t matter if he’s particularly romantic or even sociable, it’s just happened enough times over the course of fifty plus years for him to know the ins and outs. He can get you there quickly and lead you through it slowly.

He’s so used to you saying his name in a tone he considers pestering that he’s begun to hate the word itself. But when it’s drawn out and desperate like this, it sounds wonderful.

You’re at his mercy, he thinks. Which means he’s in control. And, as much as he’d hate to admit it, control does not mean he can kill you, control means he can care for you.

When you come down from your high, Joel is looking up at you from between your thighs with messy hair and kiss-dark lips. His smile looks like one of pride. Your cheeks heat up, only half-remembering what just happened. You could describe the event simply in a cause and effect relationship — he went down on you, so you came. You know what an orgasm feels like, but that was something beyond anything you’d ever experienced before. You fear an addiction may be coming on.

Your voice comes out shaky, which only makes your first words after a long silence sound stupider. “Thank you.”

He looks confused, and it takes him a moment to respond. “My pleasure,” he says, and you swear it might be when you see a semi through his sweatpants.

You’d offer more ‘help’ but you truly don’t think you can manage it. You can feel your body pulling you towards sleep. Your eyes have barely opened and they want to close again.

Joel notices because how could he not, you’re completely naked in every sense of the word.

“Get some rest,” he says before standing up.

He’s leaving.

“Where are you going?” you ask, instinctively.

“Downstairs.”

You do not want to say it. The fear of rejection is too strong, but so is the sudden urge to cry. Holding back tears is a strength of yours, though, so Joel never sees them. Somehow, after doing one of the most adult things, you feel like a baby in the wake of it. You are supposed to be taking care of him, and you are failing.

“What?” is his response to your refusal to meet his eyes.

“I just assumed you were going to stay. That’s all.”

“I can. If that’s what you need me to do.”

You don’t say anything. He climbs into bed anyway after picking up your underwear and handing it to you.

He doesn’t hold you but he doesn’t leave either. What he does do is kiss you on the forehead when he thinks you’re already asleep. It’s a compromise between your fear and your desire.

It isn’t as weird as one might think it would be — acting as if you’ve never done anything remotely sexual with one another. It’s easier because you don’t have to go back to being friends. You never really were. It was always awkward. What’s new? Only your knowledge that at least some of your feelings are mutual. Only the fact that you think about having sex with him every time he’s in front of you. It’s really just out of curiosity sometimes. What would he be like in bed? Does he want it too? How would you even broach the subject?

Sometimes, it’s not just curiosity. Those days are harder to navigate. You have to pretend like every little touch — most of them accidental — fuels the fire. It’s not the sensation itself. It’s just the acute awareness of his body, how close it is to yours, how easily you could reach out and touch him, that enters your mind.

“You’re staring.” Joel says from the other side of the couch.

“Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Got something’ on your mind?”

“Not really.”

“C’mon, what is it?”

“Why do you suddenly care about my thoughts?” About me.

“You think I didn’t care about you before? You’ve been in my house everyday for months now.”

“So?”

“And, I haven’t tried to kick you out yet.”

“You’re not allowed to kick me out. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Okay. How ‘bout this: I’m down here sitting with you because I know you don’t like to be alone.”

“So you pity me?”

“No, if I pitied you, I’d have told Tommy to give you a new job.”

“Okay, so, you expect me to believe you care but you refuse to talk to me half the time.”

“I’m not much of a talker. But, now that I’m trying to talk to you, you’re shutting me out.”

“I’m not— It’s just not a big deal. I don’t even remember what I was thinking about anyway.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I said, that’s bullshit.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll talk.”

You take a deep breath before speaking, one long enough that he gestures for you to go on.

“I was just thinking about what it would be like if we had sex.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, since we, you know, we did that stuff… it’s not like it’s a totally crazy thought.”

“‘That stuff’? Be more specific, honey.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I do, but you can’t be thinking about having sex with me when you can’t even use big girl words when you’re talking about it.”

“It doesn’t even matter.” Your face is burning. It so, totally, does matter. “I was just curious.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mm-hmm. Go on thinking, I’ll get back to reading.”

“Wait, what? You just made me tell you that to make me embarrassed? You’re not even gonna—”

“What? Gonna fuck you?”

The word slips out of his mouth so easily.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Truth is: he’s been thinking about you every day since. He only caught you staring because he was doing the same. He tries to restrain himself because it feels like the right thing to do.

But he still, he acquiesces and takes you upstairs to his bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and undresses you slowly like you’re a gift and he doesn’t want to tear the paper. He places your clothes atop the dresser, but leaves his strewn across the floor.

Wonder fills your eyes as he reveals his naked body. Hesitation and awe wrapped up in one.

“Wow,” you say, breaking the silence, “it’s, um, you know— do you think it’ll fit?”

It’s not the first time he’s heard that. It no longer brings him that bashful pride that it did when he was younger. It’s just a fact. A nuisance sometimes.

“Not if we don’t get you ready first.”

“Do you need to get ready first too?”

He looks down at his cock, rock-hard and eager.

“No, baby, just looking at you is enough to get me ready.”

A thought crosses his mind — one he thought he’d left in his teenage years — what if he comes too quickly?

He lies back on the bed next to you and reaches for you, waits for you to let him maneuver you.

“Come here,” he says.

You sit up and face him, slowly inch towards his arms that beckon you.

You’re fairly sure you know what he wants you to do. Sit on his face. But god, something about it seems awkward in the amount of control you simultaneously give up and are given in turn.

“You trust me, right?” he asks.

“Of course.”

An answer you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d give back when you first met.

“Then, come sit on my face.”

You swing your leg over him and steady yourself above his face.

He grips your thighs to guide you. You grip the headboard to save yourself from passing out the moment Joel’s mouth meets your skin.

Joel wouldn’t be the man you’d have thought would have such a talented tongue based on how little he uses it. You can’t blame him for not talking right now. Your moans echo off his bedroom walls and permeate the balmy summer air. The windows are closed and the curtains shield your naked bodies from the neighbors but even if you’d left them open, you wouldn’t have the sense to care.

You’re an incoherent mess of moans and half-words, trembling thighs and sweat. Your orgasm comes on strong, and if your eyes weren’t screwed shut, maybe you’d see the gates of heaven.

It’s been a while since he’s done this. Tess never liked it like this and the last woman before her was one from another lifetime, pre-outbreak, an inconceivable world despite having once called it home.

He’s not really thinking about that, though, in this moment, all Joel can think of is you. Your skin, your sweat, your heat, and the pretty noises you make. At one point, he swears he hears his name though your thighs are covering his ears. And he doesn’t mind it one bit.

“I’m gonna pass out,” he hears from above him.

“No, you’re not. I’ve got you,” he tries to say, though surely his words are muffled.

“Don’t let me go.”

He doesn’t. He carefully helps you lie back on the bed. When he meets your gaze, he swears he’s never seen adoration like that in anyone’s eyes before. At least, not in a long time.

It terrifies him, but in spite of his hesitation, he holds you close.

A blanket of peaceful silence settles over your bare bodies.

You speak quietly, trying not to awaken Joel’s senses. The ones that pull him away from you. The moment feels like glass in your hands.

“Are we going to have sex?”

“Hm?”

“We were going to, right? You were getting me ready for it.”

“I thought I wore you out.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’d tell you if you were.”

He hesitates.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

Those are the words that awaken his arousal. In an instant, you find his body looming above yours. He kisses you until your lips are red and puffy. He doesn’t break your gaze as he positions his cock at your entrance. Your green light is your needy hips begging him to fuck you.

He starts slow, even the head is a stretch. You scrunch up your face and hold back the urge to squirm.

“It’s gonna be a little uncomfortable at first, baby, and that’s why we’re gonna take it slow.”

Slow is an understatement. It takes ages for him to give you another inch — or maybe you’re just antsy. This one makes you whimper, makes you clamp down around him.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be fine.”

Joel’s voice is tender and sweet, and it gives you enough hope to ask for something you think he’d usually deny you.

“Can you hold my hand?”

He interlocks his fingers with yours. It feels oddly natural. He doubts he’s heard someone ask to hold his hand since— not now, he’ll go soft if he thinks about her. He’ll close in on himself and you need him — in more ways than one.

He continues slowly as he promised he would until he hears your moans of pleasure and your pleas for more, more, more. More is a little bit faster, a little bit harder, as deep as you can take it, and most importantly, his thumb tracing circles on your clit.

You squeeze his hand with yours as your inner walls clamp down around him.

“Just let it happen. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

When you come, he does too — the most blissful mistake he’s ever made.

Curses fly out of his mouth through his orgasm, stopping briefly as he catches his breath, and resuming when he pulls out and watches as his come drips out of you.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you insist. “I liked it.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Because I fucking loved it. “But, it’s dangerous. We’ve gotta be more careful.”

In the future — it’s implied. Another time is nothing when the lines have all been crossed and when the other side brings him a warmth the hot summer never could.

You have more power over him than the sun.

It becomes a routine — briefly — and you are more careful. You discreetly buy condoms, but when your next period doesn’t come, you fear it might be too late.

You don’t tell Joel, not at first. Sometimes, they’re irregular, and you don’t want to give the man a heart attack. But then a week passes, another week passes, and eventually you have to — especially when you’re beginning to feel a bit nauseous and have no other explanation for it. It’s better to say something before he asks.

“Joel,” you say, “I haven’t gotten my period yet.”

A look of horror crosses his face before he asks, “How late is it?”

You take a breath before admitting, “A few weeks.”

“How many?”

“Almost three.”

“Fuck.” He sighs in preemptive defeat. “Have you taken a test?”

“No, I thought it would come so I didn’t want to overreact.”

“We’re going to go get one.”

He stands up immediately and turns towards the door.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him in his tracks.

“I should probably get it. It’ll look less suspicious.”

No, it won’t. Those who suspect something is up with you, will have their suspicions, and those who don’t, won’t think to pay attention.

They recommend taking multiple because false negatives are common.

The first one is a clear positive, so clear you think it might be a false positive, so you wait to freak out until you see two lines come up on the second test.

Joel is silent, even when you hand him the test.

But, so are you, because what more is there to say? The tests say it all.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to,” he says, and you’re surprised until he clarifies.

“I doubt they’ll make you pay for the pill or the procedure — however they do it, but I’ll take care of you while you’re recovering. I’ll be there through it all. Promise.”

The pill or the procedure. The abortion that he expects you to have. Truth be told, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d do until now. It’s probably the right decision. Do you really want to bring a baby into this world? Can you even take care of one?

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll make an appointment.”

You save your tears for Maria. She approaches you in the clinic. You’d be delighted to see her at any other moment.

“Making an appointment?” she asks.

“Yeah, just a checkup,” you lie.

The woman at the counter clarifies with you. “Just a checkup? Is that what you’d prefer?”

You turn back and forth between her and Maria.

“Um, no,” you say, “keep it as is.”

Maria raises an eyebrow and there is nowhere left to hide. You might be able to outrun her, but she knows where you live and isn’t afraid to confront you at your doorstep.

She saves you some of your dignity when she whispers, “How about a chat at my place? I have some tea that helps with nausea.”

The tea is persuasive but you’d have to go anyway. You don’t speak on the walk to Maria’s. She brews the tea and you sit across from each other in the kitchen before she finally speaks.

“What’s the appointment for?” she asks. “And I’m not here to judge you, I just want the truth.”

You’re not my mom, you could say, but she’s the closest thing you’ve had to one since your own passed.

“An abortion,” you say quietly, looking down at the table, at your hands around the mug.

“Okay,” she says, gently. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You try to reply but all the comes out is a sob.

Eventually, she pries the truth out of you. You explain what happened when you told Joel the news.

“So, he made the decision, and then told you he’d be there for you if he did what you wanted?”

“I guess. But, I think it might be the right choice. I mean, it'd be hard to raise a child in this world…” You cut yourself off when you look at her bump. She’s gonna be a mom, a good mom. And, stupidly, you’re jealous.

Even though it’s not there yet, you swear you can see a high chair in your periphery. You could be holding a warm bottle instead of a hot mug of tea. Maria could be feeding her child his first bite of baby food next to you.

“Let me ask you something, and I want you to really think about it, and be honest with me.”

You nod and wait for her question.

“If Joel had said he’d support you no matter what, even if you wanted to keep the child, if he said he’d step up as a father, would you have made the appointment?”

“I don’t know.” Oh, but you do. Maria waits for you to come to a conclusion, for you to spit it out.

“I like the idea of having a kid. I love kids, and I sometimes think about what it would be like being a mom, but I know that I can’t be one. Not right now.”

If there is one thing Joel can’t be, it’s a father. Not again. He’s too old, too grouchy, too cynical. He’s not the man he used to be. He was never good at it anyway. He couldn’t save his own kid. He’s already a failed father — once, if not, twice.

You’d be a great mother, and that’s the greatest tragedy. He’s failed you already. He’s not good at the kinder things of life. He shouldn’t have indulged in you, in the love you gave him when he cannot give it back. There are a lot of things Joel can’t quite get right — being a lover, a father, a good man.

Every night since the outbreak began, he’s watched Sarah bleed out in his arms. Sometimes he sees Tess, Sam and Henry, Bill, even Tommy which feels like an augury. Ellie is there almost every night, losing consciousness. Only sometimes is she in that hospital bed, often, she’s lying in the show, with blue lips and almost no pulse. Now, you’ve begun to enter his subconscious. You’re always too far out of reach, screaming his name until he’s shot dead, and the last thing he hears is you shriek as you watch him die in front of you.

Another person is another tragedy once they have the misfortune of coming into his life. There cannot be another person, especially not a child.

You should be back by now, he thinks as he splashes water on his face for the umpteenth time, hoping it’ll wash away all the mistakes he’s made.

He can tell it’s Maria by the way her knuckles rap on his front door. He can tell she’s pissed too.

When he opens the door, he sees you in standing behind her, like you’re afraid of him.

“Unless you want to have this discussion on your doorstep, I suggest you let me — us — inside.”

He does, reluctantly.

“Joel Miller, when do you plan on becoming a man?”

“What?”

“You just told her to make an appointment, didn’t even give her a chance to think about it? You managed to run away from your problems while you’re on house arrest. Impressive.”

“I thought that was what we both wanted,” he says, looking past her, to you.

“I guess, maybe,” you shrug.

The one thing he’s grateful for is Maria’s suggestion that you talk privately.

You sit further from him than usual, you refuse to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask what you wanted. I thought I was making the right choice.”

“It’s okay. I don’t even know what I want.”

But the tears suggest otherwise.

“Do you want to keep the baby?”

“Maybe, but I can’t. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s what I think, but Maria’s right, it’s your choice.”

“But I don’t know how to make that choice.”

“You’ve got a good heart. Follow it.”

You spend a lot of time thinking, remembering, and trying to convince yourself that there is no part of you that wants to be a mother. But, in your bedside drawer, there is a handful of photos — all from before the outbreak. You see your mom as a child on a swing set, and as a teen blowing out candles on her birthday. Her mom is in that one too, sitting next to her, smiling. You wish more than anything to have pictures of you and your mom.

You think about the little girl who pretended a ratty old stuffed bear was her baby. You can hear your mom telling you that you’re doing a good job, how you’ll be good at this one day. Your bedtime stories were never about fairy princesses, but about your family, the ones you didn’t get to meet.

“I wish I could have that,” you’d say.

“One day, you might be able to — the world is scary right now, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be like this forever,” she’d insist.

In retrospect, you wonder if she really believed that, if she really believed that teddy bear would one day be a baby that you’d be the one carrying, and she’d be the proud grandmother.

“I told her I wanted to be a mom like her,” you explain to Joel, and he understands.

You know about Ellie, but not about Sarah. Joel never brings either of them up to you. Until now. It’s a fair trade, he tells himself. Photos for photos, info for info. But it’s more than that.

“Hold on for one minute, I’m gonna go get something, and I’ll be right back.”

It’ll only take him a second to grab the pictures, but he’ll need a moment to compose himself.

“This is Sarah,” he says, pointing to the little girl in the photo. “My daughter.”

You’re silent for a moment, gazing at the photo, at a younger Joel you’ve never met.

You’re the first person not to tell him that you’re sorry for his loss, and he is relieved not to hear the empty sympathies once more.

“What was she like?” you ask.

It’s hard to explain, and for that reason, he talks for at least a half hour about Sarah. All her likes and dislikes, all his favorite moments from the day she was born until the day she died. He tells the story of that too.

When you try to tell him that he sounds like he was a good dad, he has to explain why he wasn’t.

“I couldn’t save her,” he says.

“I couldn’t save her either,” you say, pointing to your mother in one of the photos.

“You were just a child,” he says. “It’s not your fault.”

“And, you were just a man,” you say. “It’s not your fault.”

“A grown man.”

“Doing the best that you could.”

And you’re right. He did try his best. He stops arguing not because he’ll ever concede but because the weight of the present falls upon him all at once as he meets your eyes and remembers why you’re here.

He can’t have Sarah back, he can’t have Ellie back, but you’re right in front of him — and he loves you. It’s too late to turn back and kick you out on your first day, it’s too late to never speak to you, it’s too late to not love you.

It’s not too late to fail you like he’s failed everyone else. It’s not too late to do the opposite either.

You tell him your decision, and wait for his disagreement, for him to dissuade you. But, he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try my best.”

You cancel the appointment and make the final decision, but it doesn’t feel real until Joel finishes building the crib in the spare bedroom. The most unexpected part is how excited you feel even when you’re nauseous, even when your feet are bloated, even when your back is killing you.

You’re also terrified, particularly when you hear Maria’s account of her labor and delivery. For someone describing how painful it was, she seems oddly unfazed, happy even. She’s too focused on her baby boy, and you get it — he is pretty cute.

When the day comes, you find that you’ve underestimated the pain entirely. The wounds you’ve gotten in combat are nothing compared to this. Every hour that goes by feels like a full day for you. Every time the doctor checks your dilation it’s still not yet time.

Until it is. And everything becomes a million times more chaotic. You swear the only thing keeping you sane is Joel’s hand in yours. (You have to apologize later for squeezing it so tightly.)

Finally, the telltale cry comes, and it feels like you’ve run a marathon by how exhausted you are and by how proud you are of yourself for doing it. This will go down as the greatest feat of your life and you are more than satisfied with that fact.

The doctor announces that it’s a boy and though he said he’d be fine with either gender, Joel’s smile is wider than you’ve ever seen it. You’re smiling almost as big. It hurts your cheek muscles but you can’t stop, especially when they hand you your baby boy. Though he doesn’t know how to speak, his hand wrapped around your finger tells you that it’s going to be okay.

There is so much pain in this world, but not in this room.

[stump-not-found]

A03 wrapped 2024

tagged by @tempusedax-rerum >:DDDDD

1.) Biggest surprise while writing this year?

how much people responded to bill cipher saying daddy . how people have interpreted ford's relationship to mabel in theseus' guide; i've really tried to write him as really caring for her so seeing that interpreted as him disliking her is so interesting haha

most of all tho i'm just surprised and very grateful that theseus has received any attention, it's been so so wonderful reading everyone's thoughts and seeing them engage with the fic . it really makes the entire process so gratifying, and i hope folks continue to enjoy where the story goes next :D

2.) How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?

i've got my erotic billford rom com Can of Snakes that's over 20k right now . it has banger titles such as "sad handjob" and "penicular sounding", so someday i'll be posting that . i think they can make it work

i also just started Weirdmageddon 2: Electric Boogaloo: Lost In New York, an AU where ford gets stan to help him finish the portal after kicking fidd's to the curb . stan and bill become besties, ford hates it, and bill isn't allowed to destroy new york until he tries a slice of 'za .

this is not accounting for the mountain of comic WIP's i have but that shit aint goin on ao3

3.) Favourite character to write this year?

ford for sure . you give me a character who's autistic in a way that isn't cute and it just means the world to me . i get to give him evil autism . the autism where we acknowledge growing up autistic is traumatizing and makes you not a nice person all the time . fuck i love him . i get to dump so much of my own shit on him its so funnnnnnn yay lalalala

there was a whole paragraph i wrote that was just describing the perfect eye angle to maintain when walking through a farmers market to avoid social scenario's, which i had to remove because it was just me rambling about my own social survival strategies . farmers markets are dangerous places

i also love writing him in the context of bill . what a fucking mess they are i hope they never get better . but together <3

4.) The character that gave you the most trouble this year?

honestly stanley pines . i feel like i soften him too much, and lean in to his more positive traits than his more negative ones . it's hard because i feel like folks don't talk about the fact he was homeless for like 10 years & also had a breaking bad style adventure in columbia

the other problem is that he IS a big softy so idk . but he should be bitchier god damn it . he should be talking about his cataracts

6.) Did you receive any gifts this year?

I DID YOU INSANE PEOPLE thank you all it make a me smile:

@stemmmm @ancharan @kronehaze @sillyhyperfixator @ezrathean0n

7.) Did you do any collaborative works this year?

i feel like all my writing is collaborative!! i spend hours talking fic stuff with my wife & brother and my stuff is all the better for it . would love to do more of that w/ other folks i love it talking and thinking and playing is so fun

8.) What do you listen to while writing?

i don't like listening to music when i write lol ...... i sit in the cold silence and type in a frantic spiral .

i listen to a lotta different things while i think of things to write tho . atm all i want in the world is to make a theseus animation to this song it's very hammercore :

9.) Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

oogh that's hard to choose . i'm just gonna share a bunch that make me laugh

from theseus' guide step six:

Dipper, clearly, doesn’t get it, and Ford acknowledges he is too young to understand a professional working relationship.

also from step six:

“Oh, sure, I can move on,” Stan grins, “To the other items on my list. A, the shack’s toilets all suck, and the seats keep raisin’ automatically. B, your handwriting sucks. C���”

from theseus' guide step three:

“You think you’re coming back anytime soon?” “No, 8-Ball, I don’t think I’m ‘ coming back ’ anytime soon.” Ford snides, though 8-Ball either doesn’t register that, or doesn’t care; hard to tell with the guy, “I’m sure you’re aware, but your boss wants to kill my family. And destroy my universe. ” 8-Ball sniffs. “Cool. Mind if I eat your leftovers then? Teeth keeps eyeing them.” Ford frowns, “You couldn’t have just brought them with you?” “Nah, man, I want to eat them.”

lots of lines from step eight but we ain't there yet

uuuuhhghhg who to send this chain mail along to uuuhgghgh

@beccadrawsstuff if u wannaaaa . anyone else feel free to pick this up as well i'm bad at this lol

[aroacebrucewayne]

when I grow up, I want to be nothing at all

CHAPTER 1.

summary: ‘Bruce hasn’t looked at himself properly in the mirror for months.’ {batman? more like notman.}

a/n: 1. character referred to w he/him pronouns for a while because she doesn’t realise she’s transfem. She’s also Misgendered because the batfam doesn’t know yet. 2. I haven’t read any comics except for the first one w/ penguin in it!! All my knowledge is from other fanfics!! Do not come at me for not knowing lore please!!! 3. Story title is from “the end” by mcr because I’m cliche trash. 4. yes, I know Dick lives a city over. Why he’s randomly returning to Gotham on this day is unknown to me. But I have gone on overnight trips to visit my grandparents in the past and they live in another city too, so I guess it’s fine. Maybe he missed his family :) [also if you’re wondering where everyone else is/what their roles may be: patience. I’ll add to this au soon hopefully!]

5. Enjoy! Idk when I’ll be writing more for this but uh. Yeah. Have fun :)

Bruce hasn’t looked at himself properly in the mirror for months. He figures that it’s the scars crossing his body, riddling his torso and limbs with a map of his past victories and losses. Sure, he looks at his face to shave and occasionally cut his hair, but that’s about it. He’s still pondering this when he his phone chimes sharply.

Tim: hi bruce. dickhead coming for dinner 2day

The text, short and to the point, only reminds him to hurry up with his dressing. The batcave, while cool, isn’t an “acceptable substitute for fresh air and human interaction, Master Bruce.” So he swiftly pulls on a sweatshirt and pants, and goes back upstairs to wash the dirt, grime and facepaint off his face.

The bathroom tile he rests his forehead against is cool against his flushed skin, offering slight reprieve from the steady pounding in his skull. Bruce forces himself to look up at the mirror. Heavy dark circles, downturned mouth, and tired eyes stare back at him, and he trudges out into his bedroom.

The room isn’t really messy, he’s never allowed it to be. But there is a jacket flung over his full-length mirror, and a chair shoved in front of it, and both of them obstruct the full view of himself. He pushes the chair aside and grabs the jacket, convincing himself with some difficulty to look at himself fully and truly.

He looks normal. Maybe a little beaten down and weary, but otherwise he looks like a normal, regular, alright guy. The moment the thought manifests in his mind, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ward off the feeling of WRONGWRONGWRONG thrumming under his skin.

Fuck. Fuck. Maybe there is something wrong with him, something twisted. Self hatred is nothing new to him, but this feels different. More painful. He takes one more look at the mirror - Face your fears - and leaves the room, jacket tossed to the floor. He can’t waste time thinking about himself: Dick’s coming for dinner, Tim and Damian are coming home from school soon, and the sky is clear and cloudless. It’s a beautiful day, and Bruce has spent most of it in the cave, burning case details into his mind.

The thought makes his headache spike up again, and he casts his mind to other things. Chiefly, the sound of voices coming from the dining room. Tim and Damian are sitting at the table, eating sandwiches, while Tim chatters excitedly about his day to Alfred.

Bruce steels himself for a moment before he enters with a smile, jumping into the conversation with ease. All his worries and anxiety melts into the background, his chief attention being on this sliver of his family, here and now. His mind hones into the present, and he drops his earlier train of thought with ease.

He can always figure that thing out later.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 22 "elegy" thoughts

i watched this episode last night and wasn't sure how i felt beyond Sad, so i figured sleeping on it would help. but it didn't. the main flavors of this episode were Sad and Ableism. join me for this ride.

now. after the utter ROLLERCOASTER that was last episode, i haven’t a clue what to expect today. but i hope it’s good. because i want it to be good. i want to be at the edge of my seat again. but this time, with more scully.

but also if they were going to go camping and sit around a fire and tell spooky stories, i would also be entirely content with that. actually that episode would cross into my top 15 for sure. so really it can go either way.

hmm… allow us to read the episode description. it kind of sounds like another monster of the week situation and not at all a continuation of the last episode. so i will go into that expecting it. but i swear i’ve heard this episode title mentioned before, which usually indicates it’s either beloved or beloathed. let’s find out which!

(is it a fan fave or hated by the masses? i couldn't tell! you tell me!)

(and oh god... the episode title... after knowing what happens in it... pain. everywhere)

we open with bowling!!! a fine activity when you’re in good company. but given that this is taking place in the opening part of the show, i figure some sort of grisly murder will go down.

this guy (later revealed to be named mr. pintero) is collecting beers and sodas while creepy music plays. another fellow (harold) is organizing the rack of bowling shoes. harold is not done yet, but boss tells him to go home. it is clear that having the shoes unorganized is making harold unhappy. 

but one of the pin machines (i had to look it up- it's called a pinsetter! i really do learn so much here) is going off!! despite no prompting!!! and a ball comes back… covered in BLOOD????

BOWLING MACHINE MURDER???

one of the pins is dripping blood too… so pintero goes down to investigate inside the pinsetter

WHAT THE FUCK THERE’S A GIRL IN THERE??????????????

pintero is trying to get help as ghostly girl hangs about inside the pinsetter. he runs outside to find a cop and he sees a girl on the side of the road bleeding from her neck!!!

same girl…? different girls??? hard to tell 

mr. pintero quickly confirms that it IS the girl he saw in the pinsetter now laying out here on the pavement. it was hard to tell because she had gone goth since her death. and also why was she in a bowling alley??? upon death that’s not where i’m going to go. i hope. do you get to choose? i mean maybe i’d go bowl some rounds, but i wouldn’t climb INTO the machine

now how does this involve harold…..?

SCULLY BOWLING??????????? GOD, DID YOU HEAR ME WHEN I ASKED FOR HER HAPPINESS??? 

(author's note: -_- )

okay, so maybe she’s at the murder bowling alley, but still!!!! she’s tying on her shoes and mulder is with mr. pintero investigating the lane. 

oh man, is she just putting the shoes on to go investigate and not even play a few rounds…? i knew i shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. it was too good to be true.

mulder beckons her to slide into the pinsetter machine in between him and mr. pintero, who says the ghost girl was caught up in the machinery. and i do love a little bit of them being smushed together. but mr. pintero says that the ghost girl was gone when he came back after seeing her hit by the car. is this confusing to read? it’s confusing to write.

mr. pintero is self conscious of his story because of the look on scully’s face LMAOOOO noooo mr. pintero please do not be sad... she is just like that!

mulder asks for a soda… king

(i thought he was getting scully caffeine because we know she needs it to survive, but he actually had it for a larger plan) 

“what is that look, scully?” “i would have thought that after four years, you’d know exactly what that look was” <- lmaooooo

“what, you don’t believe in ghosts?” (he proceeds to elaborate on the difference between ghosts, disembodied spirits, and death omens while bowling) (scully looks impressed as he gets a strike) LMAOOOOOOOOOOO i swear she thought he was attractive there. you could see it in her eyes.

so: three death omens have appeared in three weeks before three murders. that’s a pretty consistent pattern. the omens have been trying to say something… but what?

mulder takes his soda and says that if she waits a second he might have an answer. does the cola reveal things to him???

no, he pours the soda onto the wax of the lane and finds writing on there!!! it says “she is me”. now what does that mean!!!

now they must be debriefed by a detective in a room full of other investigators. the three victims have all had the same age, weight, hair, and eye color, which is horrifying. and all were attacked in the same 6 blocks!!!

mulder is whispering something to scully in the back of the room (adorable), but the guy who is running the debrief finds it less so, and asks what tf he has to say and who tf is he. which leads him to explaining his apparition theory while scully looks on, very much recalling the incident with plane guy mike from tempus fugit. at least this time it wasn't her birthday.

mulder asks if there were any other written messages at the crime scenes and if “she is me” means anything to anyone, and the jerk detective says someone claimed those were her last words, but she couldn’t have actually said them as her larynx was severed (she could have said that before the severing???)

but the detective dismisses the claim as coming from “a nut” and sends the agents off to follow that lead, which leads them to a psychiatric center. where someone is painting a bird!! it’s pretty nice. 

the nurses gather the patients to ask if anyone used the payphone to report a murder on friday. our old friend harold looks deeply uncomfortable. 

mulder holds up a photo of the dead girl, which the patients identify as the murder victim. and then scully pulls out a magazine with jay leno on the cover and a few patients say jay leno did it??? can you imagine. god. that’d be a crazy episode. she leaves the room, seeming to think this is a waste of time. but mulder notices that harold was very quiet during this whole exchange. 

scully is going over the crime scene photos in the hallway…. ohhhh, she found that the murderer changed the hand the ring each victim wore was on!! she’s very clever to notice such a small detail

he asks about what would make a person switch the rings around, and she points out a form of OCD that usually does not escalate to murder, but it involves doing things over and over again until they’re just right……. is that supposed to be a hint to harold….?

mulder says he’s about to get harold to confess to making the call. but harold is denying it. when mulder asks if he’s seen a ghost, he starts yelling. this did not go as planned.

scully says that harold has something called “atypical autism” which i am going to google (it seems to go by a new name now in the DSM 5?), and that he has spent his life in and out of treatment centers like this one. and he also has severe OCD… which she says would explain the switching of the rings. 

hey! OCD does not equal murder.

but i suppose that anyone is capable of murder, and perhaps she is just accounting for taking the rings off of one hand and onto another.

mulder asks a very relevant question: if harold did it, why did he now start killing people? he was clearly prone to outbursts when under distress… but that doesn’t explain the “she is me” or the apparitions. or, you know. going from yelling over being asked uncomfortable questions to slitting people's throats. bit of a jump there.

harold can come and go as he pleases, and he has a job…. hmm. this does not mean he did the murdering.

but then scully’s nose starts bleeding onto his files!!!

there was so much concern in mulder's “oh, scully…” and she insists that she’s fine, just needs to wash up. mulder looks like he was just punched as she leaves.

(i need the gif set please. please gif it. the pain... i want to microdose it in a controlled environment)

she goes to the bathroom to clean up and WHAT THE FUCK?????? she sees the “she is me” written in BLOOD on the mirror.

AND THEN A VERY SILLY LOOKING GHOST GREENSCREENED IN APPEARS LMAOOOOO (i love you 90's tech you are my best friend) but the ghost is bleeding from her neck. which is less funny.

hold on. DOES THAT MEAN SCULLY IS GOING TO DIE??? because she saw the death omen?????

mulder’s knocking on the door of the bathroom, asking if she’s in there, and when she finally replies with a quiet and strained “yeah” he reports that they've found another victim, a college student with her throat cut. and the girl she had seen had a college sweatshirt on!!!

she is utterly gagged. this must be a very challenging thing for a non-believer to see. and to confront the implications.

at the crime scene, she’s looking at the victim's body. and this victim also had a ring on her finger that was switched from one hand to the other. scully is still staring in shock.

and harold escaped somehow!!!

she seems almost like she’s about to tell mulder what she saw back in the bathroom, but then she says that she’s going to go get “this” (gesturing to her nose) checked out. he asks to drive her and she says no, she’s fine, and he double checks and says it’s just precaution, the doctors have been keeping a close eye on it, etc etc. LET HIM DRIVE YOU!! IT’S OKAY!!!!!!! he watches her, puzzled. 

(god, how i want to get onscreen, shake her by the shoulders, and tell her that letting herself be loved and cared for is not weakness... idgaf what sort of mentality her navy father installed in her. let's work it out together)

harold has a paper in his hand and is applying glue as he mutters some numbers. they’re bowling score sheets he’s gluing to the wall!! kinda cool. recycling.

BUT they read “she is me” in BLOOD…. he turns around and sees the ghosts of the victims!!!!!!!!! he just wants to be left alone!!!! leave harold alone!!!!! why are they haunting him????

scully is getting blood drawn. oh god i can’t look and she looks horrified…. she’s looking in the mirror

and now a jump to a therapy scene. she’s talking to her therapist about her fears, how she's scared to talk to mulder about them, and how she’s kept working despite the diagnosis. she says she doesn’t feel she owes it to mulder to keep working. good. know your value.

“i guess i never realized how much i rely on him, before this” <- STOP. STOP STOP. actually no. please continue. please express your feelings. i’m just gonna cry while you do it.

“his passion. he’s been a great source of strength that i’ve drawn on” <- oh... oh...

the therapist asks what happened last night, and she says she saw something, and she doesn’t know what it was or why, but she’s crying. then she explains the apparition. the therapist asks if she’s sure she doesn’t know what the ghost was trying to tell her. 

oh my god……. she knows what it means....

mulder is back at the bowling alley, looking for harold, and mr. pintero says he would never do such a crime.

but lane 6 is dropping pins…. harold is hiding back there?!!!

mulder follows him in as he climbs up the walls… and when he finds him, he’s muttering “she is me” over and over and over again. WHAT DOES IT MEAN???? 

the jerk detective from the police is here while harold is being questioned, and he blatantly ignores the lawyer telling him not to ask any questions about his guilt or innocence. wow! great guy. said with heavy sarcasm.

mulder asks harold if he knew those women, and if he’s scared they’ll visit him, to which he keeps reciting numbers. is he reciting their bowling scores??? and then he gives one of the victim’s shoe sizes when asked!!!!!

detective jerk takes this as a confession, while mulder says he needs harold’s help to prove him innocent. it just seems to me like he has an amazing memory. luckily, mr. pintero is very kind to him. 

detective jerk continues to be a dick as harold shows them to a room where he tons and tons of score cards pasted to the walls, and can recall them by name, including those belonging to the victims. very impressive.

but then harold sees a ghost?????

he’s running away and finds mr. pintero dead on the floor!!!!! harold is sobbing. omg... no... mr. pintero... i grew to be fond of you in our brief time together.

cutscene to scully at home in her fuzzy robe, praying. it feels we are interrupting a very intimate moment. the doorbell rings. it’s mulder!

he needs her medical expertise at this late hour. then once he enters the apartment, he asks what her doctor said, to which she reassures him she’s fine, which i do not believe in the slightest.

the contrast between him in his suit and her in her fluffy robe is very sweet, but he’s trying to explain that harold saw an apparition of mr. pintero’s death

(he lowkey did just imply that harold’s autism is what lets him see ghosts though??? so that’s kinda wild. that or i misunderstood something drastically)

NOOOOO. MULDER POINTS OUT THAT EVERYONE WHO SAW THE VISIONS WERE DYING. he wants to know if harold’s dying?? no no no. 

OH MY GOSH SHE’S TRYING TO GRASP WHAT THAT MEANS……………..

no. no no. and to think, i thought we were getting fun bowling time when this episode began. 

they go to the home he’s at to examine him, but someone is listening. it's harold's roomie chuck.

harold’s supposed to take his meds, but he’s not doing that. the nurse, named nurse innes, says to TAKE HIS POISON??? is that euphemistic or...

“did you tell them about your little girlfriends? did you show them your pictures??” <- HUH?? WHAT IS GOING ON!!!!

“you think they loved you back? no one could love you, harold” <- HEY WHAT. WHO IS THIS LADY????

oh that’s a slur. that’s a full on slur she says to him. 

there’s a distant scream and the doctor has been attacked, it seems. well. deserved. 

innes is claiming “he went berserk” and attacked him. i do not believe this at all.

the other nurse seems very nice :(

they’re going to split up, scully will talk to chuck the roommate and mulder will look for harold

OH! innes pulls out a scalpel. so she fully cut her own head. wow. what a great lady. again said with great sarcasm. we have some real charmers in this episode.

scully’s talking to chuck. and he asks her if harold is dying, because nurse innes is trying to poison him. harold TOLD chuck that innes was poisoning him!! nooo, harold :(

chuck says he really loved them, and when she asks who it was that harold really loved, he pulls out the pictures of the girls who were murdered that harold kept in his drawer. the only other person who knew about those pictures was nurse innes!!!

did she kill them???????????

scully goes to find innes and notices that she is clenching her fist….. she drops the pills… and then tries to attack scully with the scalpel!!!

bad idea to try and attack an FBI agent, you absolute buffoon. she manages to slam scully around a bit, and then to promptly get shot.

mulder hears the gunshot and is sprinting to get there. he notices scully is cut on her hand right away 😭😭😭 i love when he worries about her

she used her stellar aim skills to once again land a non-lethal shot to the shoulder, to which i am very proud to see her sharpshooting skills once again highlighted!!

and she says that he should bag the scalpel, she’s pretty sure it’s the murder weapon. dang! she solved this one without him. queen.

the theory she cooks up is that innes has been taking harold’s meds, which can cause unstable behavior, and maybe she was trying to kill harold’s happiness. and then mulder breaks the news that was harold found dead in an alley. no, harold :(

she’s trying to say he wasn’t dying, he was being denied medical care. he clocks that this has a deeper meaning right away… “is that your medical opinion?”

(not even joking, someone poked their head in my room while i was watching this and said "you have a miserable look on your face". yeah. i know <3 it hurted)

“i saw something, mulder” <- oh my god. oh my god. she's going to tell him.

“i saw her in the bathroom before you came to tell me”

(holy fuck i need to rewatch this three times)

“why didn’t you tell me?” (he's keeping his voice so calm)

“because i didn’t want to believe it. because i don’t want to believe it”

“is that why you came down here, to prove that it wasn’t true?”

“no, i came down here because you asked me to” (there's annoyance in her voice)

“why can’t you be honest with me?” <- ohhh. oh my goodness. he sounds so sad.

“what do you want me to say? that you’re right? that-that I believe it even if i don’t? i mean, is that what you want?” <- ohh, that is a low blow. she’s hurting and she’s throwing words in any direction to try and deflect the pain she feels… because she cannot control it and she desperately wants to 

now he’s growing annoyed, but trying to reign it in: “is that what you think i want to hear?”

silence. a beat. and then: “no.” she seems to realize that trying to hurt him helps nobody.

“you can believe what you want to believe, scully, but you can’t hide the truth from me. because if you do, you’re working against me. and yourself” (and oh my god, she would never want to work against him... the weaponization of their mutual cause to get her to be honest and take care of herself)

“i know what you’re afraid of. i’m afraid of the same thing” <- chills. i have them. rare moment of mulder vulnerability. pain. pain.

“the doctor said i was fine”, she says. “i hope that’s the truth”, he replies.

(whispered) “i’m going home”

that line is fascinating because it sounds like he’s directly accusing her of lying….. and what if she is? what if she’s too scared to tell him that she’s not okay?

nooooo :( she gets in her car to drive home and starts to cry :(((((

AND THEN SHE SEES HAROLD……… 

WHAT THE FUCK MAN??????? HEY. WHAT THE FUCK. 

pain. pain. pain.

okay. so: this hurts. scully being scared of talking about how she feels, of letting down mulder, lying to him because she’s too afraid to speak the truth, lashing out at him to try and deflect from her pain. and then realizing that trying to hurt him helps no one.

and how he’s trying so hard to keep his cool when he wants to tell her to be honest, to stop lying and to just tell him the truth, to take care of herself and let him take care of her. he wants to convince her that it’s okay to be scared and that he is too.

this little fight is really recalling that other fight they had in tunguska and what struck me both about those is how he works so hard to keep his voice level, even when you know he wants to yell. the restraint there is astounding. he loves her so terribly.

and scully can see those ghosts, which means she’s dying, which she knows means she’s dying, and she tried to find any other explanation for it, to blame it on the power of suggestion or stress, but she knows what it means and she’s so scared. we saw her praying, likely begging for help and for her loved ones to be comforted as she leaves… 

bro. the tears. in my eyes. they are forming. 

seeing her cry is just horrible. 

but honestly, the fact that she even opened up to mulder about seeing that apparition is huge. she works so hard to be as closed off as she is, and even though she went for the low blow with trying to hurt him with the whole “you want me to say that you’re right?” thing, it was still a very big deal that she felt she could say that. but it also attests to the fact that she is in so much pain that she feels she has no choice.

goddamnit. pain. 

little did i know that day i decided to watch this show that THIS was the find of stuff i was getting myself into.

okay. so: the rest of the episode. 

well, i didn’t see the killer coming, so i was surprised there. but it was not an easy episode to watch, with the depiction of medical abuse and ableism inherent to the story. we got a full on slur moment. that did make me jump a little. the 90’s, man. they’d put anything on the TV.

so it was weird to reckon the A plot with the B plot even if they were tied together with the common thread of “these dying people can see the dead”. it was an abrupt shift between the two. 

how do i feel? sad. sad sad sad. damn you, season 4. how you fill me with unrelenting sorrow. have i been happy once in the last 22 episodes? i find it hard to recall. 

i like seeing mulder protective of and caring for scully, but seeing her suffer is so sad. i know it’s not real!!! i know she’s a character on the screen. but holy hell if it’s not emotionally taxing to watch her confront her own mortality, watch the people she loves mourn her while she’s still here but know they likely won’t have her for long.

and i know that there will likely be some sort of magical resolution because there are like what, 5 more seasons and 2 movies? but it still hurts. especially because so many people really do die of cancer and face those realities. i once again wonder how people who have cancer felt about this storyline, if they felt represented or not.

there’s an element of sorrow that gets added in knowing that these things really do happen. i can take comfort in knowing that my sibling will not statistically likely be abducted by a UFO and i will probably not be injected with goo in a gulag. these sorts of storylines have in-universe weight and are devastating in terms of the story, but we recognize that such things do not happen to us ordinary folk. and the inverse is true, at least for me, in terms of the tragedies that happen in this show that COULD happen to a person like you or me. the grief you feel from seeing a character dying of a horrific disease is all the more accentuated when you know people who have endured tragedy like that.

man, you s4 fans are real suckers for pain. i actually admire it. god bless you, actually. i need a certain good times to sorrow ratio. and i considered myself an angst aficionado before this!!!

now what in the hell is going on? while i was writing this, the beginning of the next episode started playing, and out of the corner of my eye i saw horrific flashings of color that i thought i was imagining. but no. they were real.

egads! for a moment i thought my laptop was like, on fire or something. perhaps this is a sign that i must go. i am both excited and scared to see what the last two episodes bring!!!!!

[slytherinshua]

HI ZAN!! Popping in to say helloooo aaand your new theme is so adorable 😼 (I'm aware you're thinking of changing it though, but I'm sure the next will be awesome too you kind of never miss 🙂‍↕️)

ALSO YOUR GIFS ARE SO GOOOOD like your gif game is improving so well 💪 they're all so pretty I have no idea how long it takes to make a gif set, but like wow you're so cool

Update stuff from my side is that I am still studying!! Exams in 12 days 🙂‍↕️ what I've been listening to nowadays in Mark's album (plsplsplsplskdj you need to listen to it if you haven't already it's so 😞 good. I'm genuinely in awe of his artistry he's so cool, and sincere at the same time it's crazy. I've seldom felt the outcome of hard work and passion while listening to something, and I am just truly blown away by The Firstfruit. It's so cohesive and personal and the creative direction UHHHHGHH I CANNOT 😞 anyway I needed to yap about this to someone thank you) My favourite songs right now are probably Journey Mercies (how could you write a chorus like that man 😞), Righteous (grew on me a lot it goes so hard), +82 pressin' (iconic) and fraktsiya

SORRY FOR THAT LOL I'm just. I'm just a girl who loves artistry done right 😞😞 ( I use this emoji too much omg)

Also stunner by ten is tew good he's so cool his voice is amazing how does he do it how what

ANYWAY ANYWAY. I hope you're doing well 🤍 Easter is coming up, if I'm correct. I hope that goes very well for you 🙂‍↕️ I'm going out tomorrow (after not going out for quite a while lol) to get a gift for my friend! Low-key excited, I have not stepped foot outside for a while 😓 forgetting how the birds sing and how the leaves sway

🫂🫂have a great day!! (⁠^⁠^⁠)

HELLO GOOSE !!!! tysm 🥹 tbh I still rly love this theme but one of the reasons I’m thinking abt changing it is cause tumblr made transparent stuff not look transparent anymore and it’s pissing me off every time I see it on my nav 😭😭

ACK TY!!! gif making is so fun I rly rly love it it’s becoming a little happy place of mine. it sort of depends on the gifs cause some are quite easy and don’t give me a headache at all while others have me fighting for my life. and also the program I use isn’t as ideal as it could be so sometimes it crashes on me or is slow loading stuff but idm !!

okay now you BET I did listen to the album. I mean if you don’t know mark is my dream and 127 bias and I am anything but normal about him. And especially this album I knew was gonna hit me so hard. Mark and I have a lot of similarities and I relate to him a lot. He moved around a bunch as a kid making him a third culture kid, which I also am as well. And ofc we’re both Christian too!! So I immediately was catching all the biblical references he was sprinkling into these songs even from the title of the album back when it was first released. And I just love it so much he’s so insane for putting out an album this incredibly raw and gorgeous. He doesn’t hold back with his lyricism and I just can’t like mark is truly the loml 💔💔💔💔 I cannot tell you how many times I cried esp when listening for the first time. I watched all the little videos to go along w each song and even the intros hit me way too hard cause they all had to do with moving and new beginnings, saying goodbye, feeling lost in life and in faith, all with plenty of religious references mixed into it that I could pick up easily. I fear I’ll never get over this album it’s just too good

ALSO YES been obsessed w stunner for so long too holy shit ten always hits. This album doesn’t overtake his debut for me at least but I still love everything about it omg

I am doing well!!! And I hope you are too good luck on those exams <33 also update on my prom dress situation !! I had great success in finding one although I DID hate the shopping part of it and it was exhausting :( but I’m in love w the dress 🥹

Yes Easter is coming up this Sunday and I’m looking forward to it I’ve been practicing all my Easter and holy week hymns on the piano and it’s got to be one of my favourite times of the year (well it is the most important time in the church calendar for a reason) !!! OOO exciting it’s always good to get outside and do smth out of the ordinary ur so real cause I stay cooped up inside for far too long asw <//3

[cheemken]

Hey Knight I noticed you barley talk about the Champions parents besides Diantha’s mom and sometimes her dad

So, what’s your interpretation for the rest of them? Are they good parents, abusive, or the “I’m going to the gas station to buy cigarettes” type?

Besides what canon gives us of course (e.g. Leon’s mom, Steven’s dad, etc.)

Pfft sure I did say I should write more abt the other champs so have more angst abt them owo

Cynthia's parents are dead. Idk, I've read like, a few fics abt her and usually they'd write in how her parents are dead and ofc I added that to my hcs bc I live for the angst hahaha I wanna say like,, in my own hcs, her mom died while giving birth to Cyn's younger sister, and her father died during an expedition, leaving their grandparents to raise them. Ofc, Cynthia couldn't really fault her sister for what happened to their mother, it wasn't her fault; the expedition her father went to went downhill and they couldn't even find his body. But idk, as much as she wants to care she just really,,, couldn't. She wasn't even that old when her mother died, maybe she was like,, two at most, and when her father died she was three. So she never got to bond w them much, and if she tries to think abt them, well.. her grandparents would always come to mind instead. She never thinks abt them really, never even visits their grave, she just,,, she really just kinda forgot abt them if she's being honest, but ofc people expect her to like react in some way whenever she's asked abt her parents, so she'd just fake being hurt and missing them when she really doesn't. How could she even miss people that she didn't even know that well.

Wallace's parents are the most homophobic pieces of shit to ever walk Hoenn, so you can only imagine how rough it was for him. Not only that but they also kinda held him up in a high standard compared to his own sister as he's the older one between them, thus he's going to be the next Guardian of Sootopolist. They honestly didn't support him on his career on contests, instead they insisted he'd be Sootopolist's Gym Leader, and while being Gym Leader was an item in his bucket list, he also wanted to join contests and be a coordinator. That didn't sit right w his parents ofc, berated him for his interest, his father even beat him up, they ended up disowning him and he went to live w his sister for a bit, promising her that when he gets back to his feet he'll make it up to her. And ah, yknow his sister has always been such a sickly kid when they were younger, and that didn't change when they got older, after Lisia was born, a few months later his sister died, leaving him w his niece. His parents blamed Wallace for the death of his sister, but he ignored them, opting to take care of Lisia instead, as a way to make it up for his sister. He has to fight long and hard so he'd have custody of Lisia, and he ended up taking the title of Guardian from his parents too, saying that it was his right and he was next in line, and his father was in no way shape or form to do his duties anymore. Ofc, their relationship is as strained as ever really, he doesn't let Lisia visit her grandparents in fear of what they'd do to her, so he's like,, he's really trying so hard to be a Guardian, Champion, and even a father figure now to his own niece.

Lance's parents were pretty absent most of his life ngl, same goes for Clair's folks really, which left them at the care of their grandfather, the Clan Elder. He knows they're still around, he just doesn't mind them really, rather he's just trying his best to be the next leader of their clan. If they talk to him, he just talks to them too, and it's not like there's really any conversation other than them asking how he was and if he's doing well. He's like.. he's indifferent towards them. Like, it's cool they're still around, but if smth happens to them he really.. he really wouldn't turn his head to help them. Why would he? They were never there for him too. He does hate his grandfather tho, mfer had too much expectations on them and he hated it, so he really broke the chain after being the new leader of their clan, and did a lot of things he knew would piss off the elder. He almost never calls the elder as his grandfather, it's always been elder, he doesn't feel like family to him.

Ik we got Steven's dad and such, but I wanna think that his mother died when he was like,, five. And if he's being honest, he was closer to his mother than his father. She was nice yknow, she was so supportive of him, and was the one to give him his Beldum, telling him that hey even tho he's not ten yet, she's sure having the company of pkmn wouldn't make him that lonely while she and Joseph are out on meetings. But ofc, his mother got killed, it changed his father, got every reminder of her in their house hidden from sight, as he didn't want more reminders that the love of his life is gone now. That kinda messed Steven's relationship w his father, but like, yknow years later, they finally had a talk abt it, so it's kinda,, it's kinda good now at least hahaha

Leon's dad,, idk, I imagine him as the type to tell his kids he's just gonna get some milk from the store and hasn't returned since. Mfer doesn't even know Hop is his kid💀 so ofc Leon doesn't like him, he just left him and his mom while she was pregnant w Hop, and before Hop was born he already left. I do wanna say when Leon became more and more famous, his father tried to reconcile w his family, but Leon didn't accept him ofc he didn't, he knows his father is just back bc Leon has the fame and fortune now.

Hau's mom is dead, but his father is still around he's just pretty neglectful. After the death of his mother, his father started avoiding him like the plague, leaving him w Hala. Hala didn't like how his own son just left Hau, but if he won't take care of Hau then he will, he'd rather not want his own grandson to follow in his son's footstep. Hau never really thinks abt them much, not like it matters anyways, he knows nothing will change, so he's just living w it. He has to admit tho, whenever he sees others being w their family he gets kinda jealous, but he just has to swallow his sadness, he'd rather not want to feel it.

Iris' parents left her in Blackthorn do I have to explain this hahahah like, mfers really saw their kid and dipped the fuck outta there. Idk,, idk if this is too angsty, but I also imagine that her parents were young. Like, late teens maybe, or just early twenties, when they had her, and ofc they didn't want to be parents just yet so they left her in Blackthorn, leaving behind their kid who they believed they couldn't take care of. Iris never knew them, she didn't care much, she's happy rn w Drayden and the Unova League, they're her family now, even the other Champions are her family. But if her actual parents did recognize her, and told her they're her actual parents idk,, I want her to be mad at them, and like,, avoid them as much as she can too. Like maybe they changed, yknow, but for Iris it's already too later, maybe they just wanna be close to her now bc she's the Champion.

Geeta's parents are smth bc they're both really supportive but also extremely judgemental of her. Like, they support her on becoming a trainer and even supported her dream in becoming Paldea's first Champion, but they also don't fucking like how she's friends w what they call commoners. Dia is probs the only friend she had that they ever thought would be perfect for her, bc ofc, Dia was also rich. But yknow, the more Geeta defied them, the more expectations they placed on to her, and the more she was bending over backwards to reach those expectations, the more pissed her parents became. Like, telling her that if she won't cut ties w her friends, then they'd just give her her inheritance and make her leave their own home, letting her provide for herself, and they'd just watch as she'd waste the money they gave her. Ofc, Geeta never wasted it, she knows how to handle money, and became a bit more successful than her folks. They really don't talk much anymore, they'd pass each other a few times, but Geeta would never talk to them. I also wanna add that they're kinda the reason Geeta has troubles w empathy and sympathy and all that, bc they taught her to look down on people who aren't in their level, and she kinda internalised that to the point she really couldn't feel much for a lot of people. She is breaking that chain tho, she knows it's not a good mindset, but sometimes she just slips and falls back, but still, she's trying.

[leedee013]

WIP Wednesday

I'll be once again participating in @kedreeva 's game this week! Let's see how this goes.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Here is what I have to offer:

1. Silly Little Jean Moreau Fic 2. Etienne 3. Baby Jean 4. Needle AU

Feel free to send multiple asks btw!

Snippet from Chapter 6 of Silly Little Jean Moreau Fic below the cut:

“I’m scared.”

“Jean, there’s nothing to be scared of! It’s just mac’n’cheese, I make it all the time for the team and they've said nothing but good things.”

Jeremy had insisted on cooking for Jean that night, and although it had gone better than he’d expected based on the fact that the kitchen hadn't started on fire. “Why is it that color?”

“Jean, just try it!”

“How do I even eat it?”

“It doesn’t matter, just scoop up a few noodles and try it!”

Jean frowned at the gooey, brightly colored pasta abomination on the plate in front of him. He was pretty sure that saying that there was cheese in the dish that was in front of him was one of the most egregious lies he’d heard in his life. Was there a cheese shortage he hadn’t heard about that made access to real cheese unattainable? How could anyone look at something so aggressively orangey-yellow and think that it was real cheese? Still, Jeremy’s bright blue eyes were trained on him, making escape impossible by pinning him in place. 

With a sigh, Jean picked up his fork, stabbed a few of the poor noodles, and popped the helping into his mouth before he could overthink it. The flavor was less intense than the coloring implied, mostly coming across as a mixture of salty and creamy. He hated that he didn't mind it at all, or that he actually enjoyed it. 

Jeremy smirked across the table at Jean as he scooped his own forkful of the mac’n’cheese into his mouth. “Told you it's good,” he said after swallowing. 

Jean shrugged. “It’s alright.” 

Jeremy grinned, a lopsided, toothy grin that dimpled just one of Jeremy’s cheeks. “I knew you’d like it.” 

“So this is what you ate when you were a kid?” Jean said before scooping up another mouthful of mac’n’cheese. 

Jeremy nodded. “At least, this is what we ate when Daniel used to make dinner for us, when we were all little.”

“Daniel’s your older brother, right?”

“Yeah. Our parents worked weird shifts back then, so my grandparents took care of us when neither of my parents could make it home in time for dinner. Daniel kept asking them if he could help though. So once he was old enough, grandma let him help cook dinner every now and then. Mac’n’cheese was his go-to those days. He taught me to always make it with a few tablespoons of sour cream, actually.”

“What do your parents do for work?”

Jeremy ate a few forkfuls of the noodles before answering. “Well, back then my dad worked as a lab technician at a hospital while my mom was doing meteorology work for a local news channel. Nowadays they pretty much do the same thing, but now they have seniority and positions higher up. What about you? Any siblings?”

Jean was grateful that he’d eaten the last of his plate of mac'n'cheese before Jeremy spoke, or else his last bites would have felt and tasted like cardboard. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, trying to force himself to take a deep breath.

[stobinesque]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @eriquin and @steves-strapcollection, thank you!!

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

THE WIPS

Jeff is Steve's Bi Awakening AU (fwiw I already have two of these sitting in my inbox from a couple weeks ago)

wigwag [Steve's Big Gay Sex Adventure]

Wayfinder [S4 Fix-it, Lucas POV]

phryctoria bonus chapter 7 (marginalia and annotations of How To Have Sex in an Epidemic)

THE (no pressure) TAGS

@devondespresso @starryeyedjanai @xenon-demon @inairbinad @hellsfireclub @delta-piscium @steddielations @thefreakandthehair @skjachukson @steventhusiast -- and anyone else who wants to participate!

THE SNIPPET

uhhhh, I'm pretty sure most of the writing I've done in the past 7 days has already been shared in various asks (or my steddie microfic), so have a sneak peek at chapter 5 of phryctoria, which I spent a good chunk of today revising.

Robin yawns again, stretching her arms high above her head. “Absolutely worth it,” she says, sounding a bit smug.

Steve shakes his head, but can’t bite back the smile she brings to his face. He clicks back into a conscious awareness of their surroundings, and realizes they’re passing by Weathertop. (Try as he might to deny it, the kids’ names for locations around Hawkins have fixed themselves in his mind.) He pulls off and parks the beamer on the side of the road, circling around the front to pull Robin out of the passenger seat. “C’mon, Bobbin, we’ve got a hill to climb.”

Halfway up, Robin turns to him and starts flapping a hand against his chest. “Hey, hey! How’s that song go? The hills are alive, dah-da-dah daaah dah, you know?”

Steve smirks. “Aren’t your ears supposed to be little geniuses? Robs, the next lines are literally the title of the movie.”

“Pretty sure it was a musical first.”

“This does not actually help your case, you know that, right?”

“Whatever, dingus. Just tell me how the song goes.”

“You sure you wanna hear me sing?”

“Okay, you’ll notice how I didn’t say ‘sing how it goes for me,’ you could just tell me the words.”

“No, no, now you’re going to be subjected to the musical stylings of the Harrington family singers, because,” Steve leans into her space and starts singing, sickly sweet, “My heart wants to sing every soooong it hears.” His head is almost fully resting against Robin’s shoulder as he looks up at her with a shit eating grin.

“Oh, my god, get off me,” she says, shoving at him while she laughs.

He lets himself be pushed away, taking a couple of dramatic, stumbling steps away from her before righting himself and drifting back into her space. “You know the next lines have always been my favorite though?”

“Do you have the whole song memorized?!”

“...yeah?” Steve frowns at her. “Robs, it’s one of my favorite movies! I thought that’s why you asked!”

Robin shakes her head, looking at him a little dumbstruck. “Nope, I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that little Harrington factoid.”

“Well…yeah. My mom really loved it, so I guess I just watched it a lot growing up? Especially when my dad was out of town—before she started going on the trips with him—because then we could sing along.”

Robin opens her mouth to say something, before seeming to make the conscious decision not to approach the whole ‘you couldn’t sing along to the movie about not being allowed to sing?’ thing with a ten foot pole, and snapping her mouth shut again. “Huh.” She takes a couple more striding steps forward with a pensive look on her face. “So...how does the next part go?”

He smiles at her, and even without being able to see his own face he can tell that it’s radiant. “My heart…wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees.” He looks at her, and he can feel the way his gaze has become just a little too intense.

“Birds, huh?” She knocks his shoulder with her own, a gentle smile on her face. “Yep. Always loved ‘em,” he says, his heart feeling a little gooey in his chest.

[bifuriouswaterbender]

WIP Wednesday Game

I missed last week while on vacation, and I have returned wanting to do nothing but write and frankly, that's not an unfair assessment of how my Tuesday went. Honestly not even an exaggeration. Please feel free to send as many requests as you'd like!

As always, credit to @kedreeva

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request! Also, if you send me an ask, I'll look on your page to see if you'd like one back. This works best when we help each other!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Filenames

Stripping

He's All That

When (Will) Falls in Love

Stevie Harrington Ch 3 [1-2]

Drag King Gareth

For those who always pick Chrissy Woke Up, I promise she'll be back soon! I need to rewatch the last episode before I can keep writing.

Snippet: When (Will) Falls in Love

“It could go horribly,” Will says to Dustin at their lockers after school. “Maybe we won’t have the same taste in movies. Maybe we’ll awkwardly sit in silence the whole time. Maybe he’ll realize I’m not interesting enough to worth dating.”

“And maybe he already knows you and is ready to have a good time,” Dustin says back without even looking his direction. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself, Will. Not everything needs a plan in case it goes wrong.”

He stares at his history textbook. Dustin’s right. Not everything does. But this feels like it deserves one. “I’ll try to be optimistic.”

“And don’t forget to have fun!” Dustin socks him on the shoulder, grinning. “You’re going on a date, not to a funeral. Try to look excited.”

[m1ckeyb3rry]

The Karasu brainrot is too real….no I agree they added a little extra spice in the way they drew Karasu (I esp love the panel where nagi asks him if he and Otoya knew each other before bllk and he goes “no dumbass” like THAT EXPRESSION ugh >>>>)

Omg that title sounds like a banger..!!! Tbh I love the like nature vibe a lot of your titles give but oh god I think I got too comfortable with the crack/happy moments that I forgot about angst..gotta mentally prepare myself for that….

TRUE Brock is sooo malewife coded LMAOOO the first few seasons were really peak the comedy and humor was also so out of pocket sometimes like the characters straight up roasting the crap out of each other

Something about just reading “team z but not THE team z” made me laugh for some reason LMAOO honestly I forget so often about how there were technically four other team zs like….someone needs to reveal the other first selection stratums im dying to know…at least we have team v tabieita confirmed!! As they should

I love stupid emojis they enhance the twitter feel by like 200%

Anri and ego as parents I can’t even imagine that like whoever is the child would definitely need some help LMAOOO hiori having tabiy/n as his OTP because he desperately needs new parents is so funny

SO TRUE ugh I know there’s only so much an author can do in the scope of one work but seeing unlikely interactions is sooo entertaining to me…that’s esp why I love the game snippets too because some of the combos are so random or there’s just not enough time in the main plot for you to see them interacting!!!

Ok so far I haven’t seen much….i think the only thing was a new visual I saw briefly in passing but it’s so funny you’re right on the mark it’s Isagi Rin sae and aiku ofc….but the title for the new season is officially called bllk vs. u-20!! I fr am dying to see tabieita animated along w the other third selections characters like yuki hiori and Nanase!! So hyped the art seems to look a lot more intense too

- Karasu anon

karasu brainrot too real…and PLS that was the exact panel i was thinking of!! like otoya looks cute ofc but at least to me it feels like the majority of the detail was put into karasu LMAOAOA but like no complaints from me 🙂‍↔️🙅🏻‍♀️

HAHA i feel like i do tend to use plants/animals a lot in my titles!! idek why…but YES angst will always make a debut 🤫 although i’m worried that once i start honing in on an au it’s going to make more sense for another character 🤔 kinda like how hollyhock is such a perfect au for otoya 😩 like imagine i come up with smth and then karasu doesn’t even make sense as the male lead 😭💔 trust i will still write it but it would be crazy

BROCK THE MALEWIFE he needs to go to barou’s respecting women boot camp and then he’s set!!! and YES bro they are all such shitheads it’s so funny

LMAOO yes like she would be on team z but not the one we actually care abt just a random team z 😭 it’s so interesting to think abt which players knew each other from the first selection!! this is kinda unrelated but it just made me remember in the third selection when karasu scores and isagi is like “he’s…a villain 😰” but then shidou says smth like “nice job karasu-chan 😄” LMAOAOA shidou x karasu besties era?? maybe the real reason karasu is in the shidou system in pxg is because they’re both chill like that

hiori doesn’t care abt “healthy relationship dynamics” in the sense that he does NOT gaf if y/n and karasu are actually into one another he literally just thinks they would make excellent parents so they’re automatically his otp 😓

no i get it completely like there’s only so many relationships you can write while still advancing the plot which is why extra content + epinagi are so fun to read!! plus i love when fics expand on unexpected friendships too…not that i rlly read them that frequently nowadays but as a rare pair enjoyer both romantically and platonically it’s always fun to see new interactions like that

JFJCSJXJSN tbf rin sae isagi and aiku have a colored spread in that part of the manga too i think?? so it makes sense but even still 😔 AT LEAST PUT NAGI IN THE PROMOS HE’S THE FIRST BLLKER TO SCORE AGAINST THE U20s 😭💔 barou also does score but they definitely are going to make the barou entrance a cliffhanger for anime onlies so i can see why he’s not included as much…icl i’m actually more hype to see barou’s goal than rin’s breakdown/berserker flow because barou’s goal had me sm more hyped

[themculibrary]

Fics With Titles That Start With K Masterlist 2

part one

kandake (ao3) - HerenorThereNearnorFar nakia/t’challa G, 11k

Summary: Ramonda helps Nakia prepare for queendom, in a very Wakandan way. There are traditions for Black Panthers, and there are traditions for those who marry them, and they both get pretty wild.

Alternate Title: Bachlorette Party In A Graveyard, Talking About Your Dead Ancestors, Getting Wild, and Fighting Your Goddess.

kate’s return to college (ao3) - KurosakiIchigoat yelena/kate E, 29k

Summary: Kate returns to College and enters a spring archery tournament. With more than just a medal waiting for her at the end.

keeper (ao3) - HepG2 steve/tony E, 81k

Summary: “Uh, I’m… very new to the whole thing,” Tony swallows visibly. He uncrosses his legs and grabs his cup again. “I looked at pictures. Research. They look graphic.”

Tony Stark is a journalist hanging onto the last of his life lines. He needs new writing materials. Something that sells. Then the whole town is talking about a BDSM play gone wrong, and there it is. His story. Steve chuckles again. Tony notices he hasn’t touched his drink. “No worries. It’s very unlikely for us to take it up to that level.

It takes two to tango.

keeping me keeping you keeping me warm (ao3) - ghoultown wanda/vision T, 6k

Summary: The Vision wakes up in a field, someplace. His skin is white. He knows what he’s meant to do.

It is hard to warm up your wife when you seem to be made of ice.

keep on breathing (ao3) - Andrea1717 steve/bucky T, 847

Summary: Steve is sick and Bucky cares for him.

keep your enemies closer (ao3) - drifloon steve/tony T, 18k

Summary: Tony, fed up with the corruption in the superhero business, becomes a supervillain. SHIELD calls in Steve Rogers to fight him, which would be fine - if they didn’t also ask Tony Stark to help as an engineering specialist.

keep you warm (ao3) - ineachplace steve/bucky E, 7k

Summary: “You ever gonna stop fussin’ over me and get yourself a girl?”

Bucky’s face goes soft for a minute. It’s why Steve says it. To see the lines in his forehead smooth out. Sometimes he feels a strange urge to kiss him. Like he’s just so full of affection for him that it’s the only way to show it.

Steve knows it’s ridiculous. Knows it doesn’t mean what it sounds like it means. But sometimes, he wants it anyway. Regardless.

kidnapped! (ao3) - Sartapaw92 kate/yelena T, 11k

Summary: Kate Bishop takes a break from her superhero duties for a while as she relaxes in her Apartment. Yelena Belova remains active in working for the ill-repute as she likes to be paid. At times, Yelena likes to mess with Kate, mainly over the phone. And at times Yelena likes to bring Kate to assist her with whatever task that Yelena has been given by her Mob Boss. The next job will be no exception.

kill the lights and kiss my eyes (ao3) - puchuupoet bucky/clint M, 5k

Summary: Clint’s broken and stuck inside for awhile, which means he’s perfectly trapped for babysitting duties. The silver lining: no diapers involved. The downside, he’s still ridiculously out of his element.

kinda magical (ao3) - Em_Jaye darcy/steve G, 29k

Summary: Darcy loves her bakery. She loves way the right treat and a cup of coffee can turn someone’s day around, she loves her employees, and she really loves when Charlotte Rogers comes to try the macarons, dragging her handsome, single father behind her.

kindred souls (ao3) - ElisaPhoenix scott/peter M, 7k

Summary: Scott is tired of not having a soulmate. Quill doesn’t even know what that is. Of course, the universe has decided this is a perfect match.

Kisses Through the Decades (ao3) - aparticularbandit agatha/wanda, wanda/vision M, 38k

Summary: The world is full of various shades of grey – charcoal, smoke, silver, ash, pewter, steel, iron, and so on. For all the black and white, there is relatively little of that. Agnes’s hair trends as dark a grey as the world allows, but even it isn’t a pure black. The closest to that is the ribbon tied tight around her waist, accenting the narrowness of it, the hourglass shape of her. Wanda’s hands have found that waist far many times to count at this point, if only to usher her out of the kitchen when she’s stayed – not past her welcome, because that sounds rude, but…well, past her welcome.

Problem being, of course, that the more Wanda guides her by the waist out of the kitchen and through the back door, the more her hands find a proper place there.

kissin’ dynamite (ao3) - crime_fighting_spiderling G, 27k

Summary: “Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Peter spoke. MJ shoved a permission slip into his hand at his comment.

“You’re going.” She simply stated.

Where Peter and his class go on a field trip to Stark Tower.

kiss me once again (ao3) - KaminaDuck peggy/steve G, 5k

Summary: Steve stood in front of the house, flowers in hand, and he took a deep breath as he stared at the steps leading up to the porch. This was the proverbial “it”. There was no going back now.

All he had to do was walk up the stairs, knock on the door, and when it opened, he would find her. Peggy. The one that he had loved through all time and space.

So why was it so hard to put one foot in front of the other?

kiss me once and i’ll keep you forever (ao3) - Kajmere E, 3k

Summary: “It’s not a gala event, Steve,” Sam warns, “it’s a little more— interactive than mingling with celebrities and collecting money.”

“Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it.”

kiss me thru the phone (ao3) - 27dragons, tisfan bucky/tony E, 7k

Summary: Trolling Steve seems like a good idea, right up until Bucky’s really, really into the pretend phone sex…

But… seems like maybe Tony’s into it, too…

kiss the cook (ao3) - mambo steve/bucky, peggy/angie, maria/sam T, 28k

Summary: Former Top Chef contestant Steve Rogers opens a restaurant with his best friend, Sam Wilson.

And everything is great, except for Steve’s giant crush on their new bartender.

knit and purl (ao3) - Six2VII sam/bucky G, 5k

Summary: Bucky has recently retired and joined a knitting circle.

knowing him (ao3) - Anonymous sam/bucky G, 909

Summary: Sam and Bucky miss Steve on his birthday and so they talk about him.

know my way around your heart (ao3) - silentinfluence steve/bucky N/R, 6k

Summary: Steve shuffles over to one side of the bed to make some space, and yawns briefly before saying, “We should cuddle. Like, right now,” and even fluffs up the pillow on his side to make the offer more inviting.

His eyes are wide and hopeful, and he’s still got that dazed look on his face and a lopsided grin and flushed cheeks. He’s everything Bucky wants, and he has to physically force out the soft, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie,” that doesn’t want to leave his mouth.

[A Harry Potter AU in which Steve and Bucky finally get it right in their last year of Hogwarts.] Featuring Steve as Gryffindor Captain, Bucky as a Slytherin/Honorary Gryffindor, and a kiss in the Hospital Wing.

[polyklok]

l m o q (fluff) & d g i x w (nsfw) for nathan if it isnt too much to ask for <3

L- Little Ones

Not as awkward as you would expect. I mean, Nathan is always kinda awkward around most people, but he’s fairly nice with kids! He’ll be friendly and joke around. If it’s kids that he knows, like back in Florida or something, it’s really cute to watch him wrestle them and pretend to lose. Oh god Nathan is so adorable

As for having kids of his own…He doesn’t know. He’ll look into it if you show interest, but the thought is super scary to him. He won’t bring it up.

M- Morning

Once the two of you are settled in, you have a daily routine, and start to regularly sleep in his room, he develops a rule; You two have to start the morning together.

If he wakes up first, he’s gonna wait until you wake up to even get out of bed. He expects you to do the same for him. He is not mentally well enough to begin his day until he has gotten a “Good Morning” and an accompanying kiss from you. It’s sweet but also a bit creepy cause he’s gonna stare blankly at your sleeping body until you get up.

Once that is done and over with, he likes to do everything in-sync with you. While you’re getting dressed, brushing teeth, yadda yadda, he usually recalls his vivid dreams to you. It helps him blow off some stress to have someone else know about the horrific and graphic imagery, even if it’s just through words.

Also I’m not sure where else to put this but Nathan likes morning sex.

O- Open

Yikes. For the first few months of your relationship, Nathan’s gonna be faking everything. Artificial enthusiasm, overkill on gestures, words that aren’t genuine. He’s had a lot of relationships where he liked the idea of someone more so than their actual personality, so he’s gotten use to lying his way through a relationship.

But, he does learn to trust you. He’ll ease up on acting how he thinks a boyfriend should act and actually begins to, well, be a boyfriend. He’ll let you know how he’s feeling, some ideas for Dethklok he’s working on, things like that. With more time, he’ll even come to you for advice and trust you with emotional baggage.

It’s a slow climb, but it’s a sure one, and having someone there for him just makes him feel so loved.

Q- Quizzes

He wants to be able to remember all the little things about how and then bring it up again later in a sweet way, like a gift or something. He really, really wants to. But he just can’t. He can’t memorize any of it for shit. Sometimes is brain will tell him that you said something he could turn into a romantic opportunity, but it won’t tell him what you said. He gets so mad at himself.

So, he starts using his notebook! Usually, he writes down potential song titles and lyrics. But now, right next to “old man dying in a river of blood and pus” he writes down things like “favorite flavor is strawberry”

D- Dirty Secret

Anytime he sees you get mad…oh man.

You yell, you start making violent gestures, you’re face gets twisted up in anger, even start spewing threats. Whether it’s directed at someone else or even him, he just goes fucking crazy for it. He feels really guilty too, he shouldn’t be having dirty thoughts while you’re in emotional distress. But he can’t help it, he loves when you snap and go apeshit. That’s why he can’t handle serious arguments with you, he’s spilt up between mad about the disagreement, upset that the two of you are fighting, incredibly fucking horny, and guilty that he’s horny.

If you happen to catch onto this, you should totally act aggravated and insult him a little bit while making out. He’s gonna love it.

G- Goofy

Nope! Not at all!

He just doesn’t think the bedroom is the place for jokes, it kills his mood. If you happen to make any, he’ll straight up ignore you….I don’t have much else to say. Just. Nope.

I- Intimacy

Most of the time, he’s gonna be rough and powerful and controlling of you. But he definitely sparks some very passionate moments when he wants to.

He does a google search first, so it’s all gonna be a smidge stereotypical; Romantic date beforehand, lots of flirting and affection, flowers, candles, and some sexy music. He takes his sweet time with the foreplay, making sure he focuses on all your most sensitive spots and getting you to make some gorgeous noises for him. The whole time, his ginormous body is gonna be pressing into yours, grunting and growling while he mutters about just how much much loves you and how perfect you are. He might start crying. Nathan never thought himself as the type to get emotional during sex, but he feels so safe with you, he can’t help it. He loves when you kiss away his tears, fighting through moans to tell him your own words of affection. It’s so picturesque and sensual.

X- X-ray

RIP your insides, mate, because they are getting mangled.

8.5 inches fully hard, girthy as hell, circumcised, head-to-base ratio doesn’t matter cause it’s still gonna destroy you, bends slightly upwards when erect, very veiny and slightly hairy. Goddamn. It’s a sight to see but also a pain to deal with. It…might take a while to get used to. He understands, this is not his first radio, and it’s the only reason Rebecca stayed with him.

W- Wild Card

Hmmm…

Nathan is a huge fan of massages. It’s the #1 way to turn him on before, and the #1 way to calm him down after. This guy is huge and he spends hours upon hours just headbanging, his shoulders and neck are constantly aching. He’ll lay on his stomach, you crawl onto his back and just work with his muscle while he groans. He’s willing to pay you back in anyway you want just to get your hands on him.

[merlieve]

Hello my dear!

Could i put in a request for a Jerry Baynard x non binary reader (biological female body) who’s plus sized? and like, really insecure and Jerrys just like, making them feel amazing, soon leading him to ask them out. maybe him kissing their stomach (bc their insecure there) then hands then their lips finishing with ’i love you, my love’ BUT IN FRENCH OML IM DYING

If not its ok :)

froot :: jerry baynard x reader

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬-𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲/𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 & 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬: 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, & 𝐀 𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞)

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ Note: UHM, OF COURSE, I’M DOING THIS ASK, I literally swooned this was so creative, bff, AND please tell me ASAP if I had used she/her pronouns referring to the reader, I got used to writing that, and I hope it changes soon to avoid any mishaps, but I proofread it, and so far I don’t see any, but it is also 1 in the morning, so I can’t be so sure 😭 The title is inspired by MARINA’s song called Froot as I was listening to it while reading this. Anyway, I hope you liked this! ]

[Name] was criticized because of their form not reaching the beauty standards, and ever since [Name] found out that they were non-binary, it made them feel more insecure. What happens when someone from the town finds out and tells everyone? Would their parents kick them out? It was a roller coaster, and they had to be careful.

There is someone [Name] could trust, and it was Jerry. Jerry had been supportive of [Name] and expressed his love and care for them wholeheartedly, it was one of the things they loved about Jerry. He made them feel comfortable around him.

And, that's why they were able to tell Jerry what they felt when they went to his workplace. Jerry found [Name] crying when he climbed on top of the barn, seeing them curled up. “Hello?” Asked Jerry, slowly walking towards [Name]. “Oh, Jerry! Thank God, you're here...” Muttered [Name] whipping off their tears.

“What's the matter?” Questioned Jerry, sitting down next to [Name], looking at them with worried eyes. “I'm sorry, life's been difficult these past few days, I got a lot of stares from people while walking here, and I want to be with you, right now,” Whispered [Name], as they look at Jerry.

Jerry couldn’t imagine what [Name] was feeling, but he felt bad for them, giving them his full support. “Come here,” Nudged Jerry, pulling [Name] in for a hug. They stayed there for a few seconds, arms around each other.

“In times like those, I'd feel like there's no one out there for me,” Mumbled [Name], causing Jerry to look at them with a puzzled look. “What do you mean?” Asked Jerry, giving them his full attention.

“You know, how Anne goes on about love and romance, and I feel like that's not for me. If I'm going to be getting unfamiliar looks from strangers, I might as well not try and find a suitor!” Explained [Name], sighing after. “I feel like no one really loves me,”

“W-Well, I do,” Whispered Jerry, his body tensing up to what [Name] might say, looking away from them. “What?” Inquired [Name], moving away from him to get a better look. “I like you,” Repeated Jerry, feeling confident this time, “I really like you,”

This sudden confession overwhelmed [Name] with happiness and bliss. “I really like you, too, Jerry!” Replied [Name], giving Jerry a charming smile. After a moment of silence, Jerry looked at [Name], only to find them looking at him back.

“What are we now?” Asked [Name], moving their body towards Jerry to get a better look at him. “It depends, if you would like me to court you,” [Name] swore they almost swooned, they never thought about courting, since they thought no one would ever think about courting them, this was a first for them. “Jerry, I would be the happiest person in the world to court you,” Smiled [Name], holding Jerry’s hand.

Jerry couldn’t believe his ears. He hesitated his feelings for [Name], until recently, and he was glad. When he was with Diana he never felt at his place with her, but now he was with [Name], and they made them feel comfortable with a glance.

After their moment, Jerry looked around the barn to see if anyone was near them, “Would you like me to kiss you?” Whispered Jerry, making [Name] blush. Flabbergasted by the sudden question, [Name] still nodded, giving Jerry a smile.

To their surprise, Jerry unexpectedly kissed their belly, making [Name] jump at the sudden contact. The gesture made [Name] feel warmth across their heart, causing them to grim from ear to ear. He didn’t stop there, Jerry kissed [Name]’s hand, a normal peck but made [Name] feel overwhelmed. “Jerry-“ Began [Name], only to be cut off by Jerry’s chapped lip onto theirs.

Jerry pulled away, looking at [Name] with love evident in his eyes, “J’aime, mon amour,” Muttered Jerry, causing [Name] to giggle with delight, Jerry then decided that their laugh was the sweetest thing he had heard. “I love you, too, Jerry,” Smiled [Name].

Embarrassed that his once dirty cheeks were highlighted by pink, as blush ran up to his face, Jerry looked away. It was clear that his confidence faded after a while. [Name] could only laugh at his antics.

They wished this moment could last forever, but unfortunately, Jerry still had to work. After he had said his bye’s to [Name], his lover, [Name] spent the day thinking about their future with Jerry, and we could say the same with Jerry, too.

[themotherofhorses]

heey vic! :D

i just started following u & i just wanna say how much i adore your series 'just like animals' & 'last of her house no more' .. they're phenomenally written and so addictive to read ! ♡

i was just wondering if you'd like to check out some of my writing concepts? …(totally ok if u don’t)—i saw u reblogged the first one that i posted on this new blog (my old blog got shadow banned) ..</3

..but anyways, i'm also thinking about starting to write longer oneshots & not just concepts... i was just wondering if u had any advice? i wrote a few oneshot imagines on my old blog, but idk.…..it's just really hard for me to commit to writing something longer atm, y'know? anyways, i love ur whole blog & your writing & i’m gonna go reread 'just like animals' & wait patiently for the next part ! ♡

best wishes, xoxo.

heeelllloooo my little love

your words made me so soft and blushy, ily. and the concepts i reblogged earlier i ADORED ! like those modern!aemond w an innocent!reader ones? art. absolutely beautiful. loved it. i look forward to seeing and reading what else you give us <3

as for any advice? okay so this is what helps me a lot in staying productive and motivated (aka my writing routine when i tackle my prompts):

whenever i receive requests or think up new fic ideas of my own, i instantly write them down in my goodnotes notebook. from there, i tweak and outline, trying to figure out what i like and don't like. i think of titles, scenes, dialogue, all that jazz. and perhaps this is so silly, but i use my college essay strategy (introduction, body, and conclusion) CAUSE THAT HELPS SO MUCH! trust me on this, it makes it a shit ton easier. sometimes i start on the body and other times the introduction- whatever feels easiest for me. also, whenever you're working on a larger fic, at times, i find it best to write the part(s) where you have the most ideas and energy, and then gradually branch out.

throw out a rough draft, like a really ugly and shitty base. leave it alone for a day and then work on polishing it. it is much better to approach your writing with a fresh and clearer mind. and if you're feeling less committed to it, move on to something new and come back to it later on!

there is absolutely no use in forcing yourself to do something you don't want to do. nope. not at all. it just ruins everything.

for when i start to lose motivation (or begin to feel that stupid writer's block), i usually pull up a book to read. for my aemond fics, i'll typically reread fire and blood or one of the books in the asoiaf series. i don't know why but reading grrm's writing style fills me with a sudden rush of motivation and encouragement to write for this sexy one-eyed pathetic meow-meow bastard.

(okay well that and i'll go back to all my previous fics and reread y'all's comments, cause receiving comments from y'all is the best fucking fuel EVER.)

my love, my best advice is to find your own writing style. your own groove. as cliche as this sounds, writing is a form of art, and every artist has their own way of creating such. it is what makes us unique. play around, read some books, listen to music, talk to your mutuals (@chainsawsangel is my muse. love you bestie. everyone say thank you cause she constantly motivates my ass to write), and practice until it feels natural to you. think of your followers kicking up their feet in the air while reading your work. how excited they will be when they see you posted something new. "YAY, SHE POSTED!!!"

and if you ever need to bounce around ideas or plan how you wanna write a certain fic, don't feel shy- message me! i'd be happy to talk and help you out. this goes out to everyone.

i love y'all.

[4dtk]

can you write something about haechan wants him s/o to sit on his face but she is shy or don't have too much confidence to do it

idt i'll give this one a title lol. but hope u like this anon!

warnings: face-sitting, fingering, oral (f receiving), cunnilingus/eating out

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

“huuh... what d’ya mean you don’t wanna try it?” haechan whispers with a cute voice, the situation in contrast to how he’s lazily sucking on your nipple. it could make you laugh if his warm mouth didn’t feel so good, but you have to hold back a moan in order to answer him.

“just- i don’t know. w-won’t you ah.. kinda suffocate or some- something?” your shirt is pushed up now, his hand reaching up to massage at your breast. it’s slow, as if he’s easing you into something. haechan only hums when his body fully takes his place over you, finally trailing down your trembling body. his touches are light, even when pulling down his sweatpants and underwear he poorly put on you this morning.

the cool air of the room grazes against your cunt and it makes you whimper, haechan’s mouth widening in surprise as he shushes you. “hyung’s in the room, baby. don’t wanna wake him.”

gently, he licks a stripe up your pussy lips, collecting your juices for his own gain before he hums at the taste. you have to contain your moans when haechan takes his time to eat you out, torturing your clit like always that has your hand flying up to grab at his locks. the sensation makes him groan into your soaking cunt, vibrations passing through your body satisfyingly. “ya sure i can’t convince you, hm?”

“w-wait!” haechan plunges two fingers into without trouble, your slick providing enough ease for him to enter. the unexpected stretch has you gasping, legs squeezing around his head like how you clench around his digits. “my god, you’re dripping.”

it was embarrassing that you had gotten so wet just from a few words and touches from haechan, but that’s just exactly what he does to you. light, feathery touches with teasing undertones, lingering kisses against your neck with his shameless tongue darting out to lick at the spot. even so, haechan did nothing but wait for you whenever he suggested something new, even if his dick was painfully hard and even if he wanted to bend you over the counter in front of all the members to feed into his voyeur kink.

so when haechan was lapping at your cunt like a starved animal and praising his slim, long fingers into you, you’ve finally decided through the cloud of pleasure and the occasional burn that you’d indulge him, even if he came out panting for air. you bite down another sound, head thrown back onto the soft pillow while your legs close around his head tighter and tighter. if your moans didn’t give it away, though, the squelching noises of your pussy did as he moved his fingers at a moderate pace.

“h-hyuck, uhm,” you manage to get through, chest moving from how excited he’s got you from a little fingering.

haechan’s smile sends your body twitching, lips glistening in the night from your sticky arousal before he licks them up from his fingers. he switches positions a little too eagerly, assuming a position you’re all too familiar with viewing. there’s a smirk on his face as you make your way to him, whistling lowly when your juices connect from thigh to thigh before you sling it over his face.

“are you sure about this?”

you nod in a daze. “then sit.”

your thighs tremble even before his mouth meets your sopping cunt, hot breath already riling you up. and when you finally descend onto his lips is when you finally find divinity, deities among gods where everything is singing. the sensation feels so different from lying down that you accidentally jerk your body, letting out a long moan at the contact.

“mmhm,” haechan is slobbering over your folds, moaning into it even when your juices leak from the sides of his mouth. just like earlier, he worships it since he’s had the first taste, driving his tongue deeper and deeper into your hole, forearms firmly clapped around your thighs to keep you from moving. they burn so bad and then so good that cry out whenever his nose nudges against your clit, hips moving on its own to get more of his wet muscle on your needy sex.

“hah- hyuck, p-please,” your knuckles are possibly white from how tight you’re gripping the headboard, leaving yourself for a bit of support in order not to crush haechan. “fuck, donghyuck-“

his hand skillfully bends itself to play with your clit, squeezing it in between his fingers that has tears pricking at your eyes. you’re certain they’re rolled back as you grind more and more like an animal in need, in heat against his unrelenting tongue. you feel teeth on your skin, the ghost of a laugh on your cunt before his eyes meet yours.

“wanna cum soon?” with a shaky breath, you mumble out a yes before he goes back to devouring your pussy, ten times louder and ten times filthier. you go back to muffling your moans through poorly timed grunts and whimpers. your skin heats up, your head goes light and the coil in you tightens. “‘m gonna cuuum- ah…!”

“ya close?” haechan knows. haechan knows everything about you, from when you arch your back to feel every part of his tongue on you to when your head is thrown back that exposes your neck. haechan knows how much he affects you. “go on. cum, baby. cum around my tongue.”

with that, you gush, releasing your juices all over him as you ride out your orgasm on his mouth. every inch of your body is shaking from the invigorating orgasm, twitching from sensitivity that makes haechan laugh again. what a bastard.

“now, look at me,” haechan pants with a cheeky smile, “i’m still alive, aren’t i? although, i’d prefer if you would fully sit on me, baby. it’s called face-sitting for a reason.” you roll your eyes, but before you’re removing your legs, he stops with you with a hand.

“you up for one more round?” he grins, and like the sex-craved animal he is, he has you wrapped around his finger (literally), preparing you for what’s to come.