#it's been a while since I've posted anything

[rcmclachlan]

8x01 coda

Inspired by @dadbodbuck's devastating post.

+

When Eddie draws in a breath, there's an audible crackle. It sounds almost like rales, or maybe heartbreak just manifests as broken glass and burnt particles from a discharged weapon in the lungs. He drops his head onto his chest as though it's too heavy to hold up and says, voice dead, "I don't know what else to do."

Tommy takes a sip of his beer—his fourth of the night—and stares at the ceiling while he tries to come up with the magical answer they've been searching for ever since the Skype call cut out. He frowns. Who still has a popcorn ceiling in the 2020s? He could scrape, skim, and sand it in a weekend.

Evan helpfully mutters something about non-native species into Tommy's thigh, a wet patch of drool expanding where his mouth is smushed into the denim, and Tommy presses his fingers slightly into the back of his neck. He settles almost immediately, then shows his appreciation by opening the floodgates again, soaking right through to Tommy's skin. He's still wearing the cone hat.

"Maybe there's nothing else to do," Tommy muses quietly. He takes another sip of the Nose Job he has no choice but to drink, because for some reason it's all Eddie has in the house. It tastes like grass.

"Used to be that when he was mad about something, he'd tell me to my face." Eddie lifts his head, only to drop it back against the edge of the couch. He's been sitting on the floor for almost an hour. "Even when he was little. He'd plant his feet and say it point blank: I'm mad at you."

Tommy huffs a reluctant laugh at the image.

"Guess he clocked that the reason he's said it so many times is because I never fucking learn." The crackle in Eddie's lungs is loud and awful. Tommy peers down to make sure there isn't blood in Eddie's teeth. "I just... I just hurt him, over and over. I've been doing it for years."

"Hey, no—" Tommy starts.

But Eddie either doesn't hear him or doesn't want even a crumb of kindness tossed his way, because he pushes on, voice growing weaker with every word. "I can blow up a million balloons and I can love him more than anything or anyone, but it's never going to be enough to make up for any of it. He cut his losses. I-I can't even be mad about him hating me, because I can't blame him."

With a wet gasp, Eddie turns his head against his shoulder and shudders.

Inhaling through his nose, Tommy closes his eyes and tries to see things from Christopher's point of view. It takes a few tries, mostly because of a gangly, desperate boy from thirty years ago who would've gladly sacrificed a limb to see his father show him a fraction of the love Eddie Diaz has for his kid.

But once Tommy shoves his inner child out of the way, he can see what Chris sees with startling clarity. Evan's said before that Chris hates their job, is terrified of losing Eddie or Buck the way he lost his mom. Tommy knows a little about Eddie's messy dating history and how it basically amounts to him just chasing one ghost after another out of some misplaced sense of duty to Chris—without ever asking Chris what he actually wants, or what he wants for Eddie.

The thing with his dead wife's doppelganger is too much for even Tommy, and he heard about it second hand. He can't imagine what it was like for Christopher to walk into that.

Tommy opens his eyes and looks down at Eddie, who's hunched over like an animal trying to hide a wound. He looks like something that belongs in the Louvre. The Despair of the Father Whose Best Isn't Good Enough (2024), oil on canvas.

"Eddie," he says gently. Any louder and Eddie will crumble to ruins. "There's nothing more for you to do other than what you're doing. Keep loving him and keep showing up for him, even though it hurts. He will talk to you again."

"How do you know?" Eddie mumbles into his own shoulder.

"Because if he hated you, he never would've taken the call in the first place."

Evan sighs in his sleep, and Tommy runs his thumb over the just-buzzed edge of his nape so softly it wouldn't wake a baby, never mind a full-grown man. He thinks idly about the way people bleed themselves dry for love, and for hope.

He wouldn't spare his father a single drop of blood. He thinks he'd probably tap a vein if Evan asked.

Pressing his lips together, he nudges Eddie with his foot until Eddie lifts his head. His eyes are glassy and rimmed red, but there's a little less devastation in his gaze than there'd been when he'd shut the laptop and gone straight into the kitchen for the beer.

"Just give it time," Tommy says.

Sniffling, Eddie looks at the hand Tommy has on Evan's neck, and tries to muster up a smile. "And how much more time are you going to give before—"

"Nope," Tommy cuts in, because that's a conversation for another time, another place, and another person. "You think I won't literally kick a man when he's down?"

It's not his best work but it makes Eddie laugh, so he calls it a win.

[hedgehog-moss]

hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.

Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.

Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.

It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.

Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?

[javiercigsrete]

bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

main masterlist

summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!

a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3

The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.

You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.

Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.

But that could never happen.

You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.

You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.

Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.

“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.

You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.

“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.

“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.

“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.

You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.

This is going to be a long trip.

Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.

“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.

“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.

You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.

“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.

The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.

You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.

Because that's exactly what you do.

It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.

You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.

You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.

The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.

You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.

His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.

You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.

Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.

You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.

“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.

You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.

You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.

“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.

You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”

You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.

You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”

You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.

Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.

You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.

“The hell you doin’?”

You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”

Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.

You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”

His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.

This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.

“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”

You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.

“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.

“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.

“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.

Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.

You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.

The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.

When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.

Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.

You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.

You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.

He stands leaning against the frame in silence as  his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.

“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.

“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”

“It’s just us then?”

“Mhm,” 

You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.

You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.

Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.

He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.

“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.

He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.

“Please,” 

“Please what, darlin’?”

You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”

Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”

You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.

You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.

His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.

You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.

He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.

Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.

“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.

He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.

You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.

You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.

A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.

“y– ha – yes,”

“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.

You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.

“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,” 

He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.

You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.

He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.

He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.

“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.

You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.

Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.

The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.

“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.

His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.

You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.

Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.

When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.

He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.

After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.

“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.

You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.

Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.

[danafeelingsick]

i've been promising K.aeya tummy for you guys for too long, so here is. enjoying himself a little too much there. tbh i've been fixating on him, even though i haven't played g.enshin lately.

just a messy sketch for now since i haven't posted anything in a while ✌️ (hi, haha) i do plan on finishing this, and doing an emeto version, so maybe stay tuned for that? i'll probably give him pants though

btw, my comms are open :)

[screamingcrows]

I am sadly not immune to all the talk of Veritas Ratio in a modern university setting... (Manu - I hope I can call you that - your posts are so sweet) pair that with the autumn mood and you get this;

tags: pure fluff, they're about to be dating your honor, modern university au

minors do not interact!

Veritas had been puzzled at first, while it wasn't exactly odd for you to be fidgeting with something during lectures, it was usually limited to a specific set of items: your water bottle, some form of pen (he had a spare of your preferred tucked away in his bag for the inevitable bad days where you'd had to leave your dorm in a hurry), or the keychain on your bag.

Whatever this new item to catch your attention was, your hand had practically been glued to the inside of your pocket for two weeks.

Conveniently hidden out of sight, forcing his hand.

He catches you at your usual autumn spot, at least it was last year, a fairly secluded bench sheltered from the elements by four old chestnut trees.

You jerk in surprise when he sits down next to you, and warmth blooms in his chest when you close the book in your hand and lightly smack the top of his head. Still, there's no real power behind it. Only one hand is holding the book after all.

"Your pocket," his gaze is momentarily drawn to a lone magpie rummaging through the first yellow leaves to bed the ground.

"My pocket?"

A sigh leaves his lips as you parrot his words, turning to look upon your face. Veritas thinks his heart might burst at the soft confusion etched into your features, so reminiscent of a delicately carved masterpiece and still containing so much that could never be conveyed through cold stone.

"Yes. You've been fiddling with something in your pocket for a few weeks. At first I assumed it was a loose thread, but it persisted through days regardless of your outfit," cool air caressed his cheeks as he breathed, carefully tuning his voice to your widening eyes, "naturally, I've grown curious as to the nature of that item."

Silence sweeps through the air, enough that Veritas can faintly hear the buzz of people closer to campus. What would normally be comfortable, has him shifting a bit. Too keenly aware of your downcast eyes, his hands find solace in adjusting his scarf.

It feels invasive when you pull your hand out, and he finds that perhaps this knowledge wasn't worth the price. But the words never make it from the tip of his tongue, not before you've opened your hand to reveal a single chestnut.

He blinks, the smooth brown reflecting what warm sunlight pierces the overhanging canopy.

You're already talking again, "-and I've just always grabbed one since that, it's just a silly tradition but I enjoy it and it's harmless and-"

"Would you tell me how, in detail?"

The way your shoulders slumped a little confirmed his theory, you'd been about to rile yourself up with nervous ramblings. Veritas turned towards you, leaning against the bench while you sought out words.

"The first thing you do is to gather the very first chestnut you lay eyes on," what else was there to do but oblige in the face of your expectant pause, "and then you whisper a wish to it."

Again, he obliges, wringing his nose at the faint scent of detritus that already clings to anything picked from the ground.

"Now you just, well you carry it with you, just like you carry a wish. And if the wish comes true, then you take it to a stream and throw it in after thanking it."

"And if it doesn't?"

Veritas notes with satisfaction how smooth the chestnut feels under his skin, and how pleased you look upon catching him shift it between fingers.

"Then you return it to the ground, bury it somewhere, and let it bloom when spring comes."

A charming sentiment, even if you kept waving your hands dismissively. There'd been no deeper meaning behind it, just a parent taking measures to keep little hands occupied.

It was sweet, the memories painting your eyes with colors he couldn't imagine never getting to see again. Time worked differently with you, it always did, and too soon did the evening air chill.

Several hours had passed, time that Veritas should have spent studying, had allocated in his schedule for completing at least two assignments. Yet he couldn't quite find it in himself to mourn.

"Here," he removed his scarf to bundle it around your neck, deft hands adjusting it to let you breathe, "you were shaking, maybe it's time to head inside?"

Something foreign drifted through your eyes and held him captive, leaning forward like this would make it so easy to-

Your lips were just as forgiving as your words, molding perfectly against his even in the brief moment before his mind caught up and he pulled back.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, cheeks already heating up and mind thrown into a frenzy unrivaled by the most advanced calculations.

All thoughts of your friendship souring turned to dust when he saw you stand, throwing your chestnut as far towards the little lake nearby as you could.

Oh.

With a thundering heart, Veritas pocketed his own chestnut, unable to resist the urge to give it a little pat.

"Wait- you still have yours? Veritas what did you wish for?"

A laugh bubbled from his chest at your expression morphing from bliss to pure petulance, the sound sending flutters through his body, how rarely he could let go.

And always in your presence.

"Veritas! It's not funny, it would've been so romantic!"

He merely hummed, enjoying the fleeting heat of your skin as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, "perhaps I wished for something less fleeting."

[knife-eared-jan]

I wanna get over it but I'm actually getting more and more upset the more time passes? I honestly don't want to be, but I feel like I'm grieving for the characters and the world I put my time and love into on most days of a decade now. Like, I really mean daily even if it's not been on Tumblr for the entire time.

For many of us, these characters found us during a really dark time and we don't call them our emotional support characters for nothing. And to have all that history so dismissively handwaved by the devs in their social media posts is actually hurtful as hell on a personal level...

(I get that 117 choices is insane and would take up an unreasonable amount of resources and limit storytelling. But I did expect 8 or 10, even if half of them just lead to codex entries. That would have been fine! I mostly expected that there wouldn't be choices from DAO and DA2 as well, but Inquisition?

How will they even give a throwaway mention to the Inquisitor's romance like they did for Hawke in dialogue in DAI, if you can't even select that Cass is Divine or Bull, Blackwall or Cullen are dead? You can't even say oh they're at home doing this and that. At best romances like Dorian or Josephine will get some content while others get none. At worst the romance choice input is actually just there to ask if you romanced Solas. Yes, I'm hella upset at that even as I am currently obsessed with Solavellan.)

Because most importantly this just makes the whole world of Thedas feel.. idk cold? Knowing that there is nothing to make it feel like we affected anything in the world so far and that so many of the characters we love will never appear again because they once gave us a choice involving them. Like, do I now need to hope I don't get any major choices for the new characters I fall in love with because that means they'll never bring them back again?? Better not get attached?? Is that really what you want to teach your players?

I don't have any hope that they are self-reflecting enough or care enough to do this, but maybe if the backlash is bad enough they'll start working on a patch that at least contains some codex entries and ambient voice lines? That's like my one piece of copium I can try to actually suspend disbelief for rn. Apparently I've entered the bargaining stage..

I've been hardcore hyping about Veilguard since 11 June (which happens to have been my birthday and like that was the best part of it for me) and I really don't want to feel this way, but I do and I don't know how to describe it other than I'm grieving.

This line currently feels immeasurably ironic...

[goquokka00]

Stray Kids on Weed

The Lee Know Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

So I have this gut feeling that Minho's first experience with weed would be with an edible. Seeing as he loves cooking and all, and is also just scared that he could potentially fuck up his lungs if he did actually smoke, I feel like this would probably be the way that he would combat that.

It's not often that you bring home edibles, but when you do, Minho asks to try it. And surprise surprise, nothing happens at first. Why? Because it's an edible. Minho thought you were scamming him when he didn't feel anything happen in his system, but it all changed about 45 minutes later.

Stupid idiot.

That's what he got for not listening to you when you tried to explain that edibles take longer to kick in since you have to let the food and weed actually digest in your stomach. Maybe next time, he'll learn to listen to you and not claim that he had beaten god.

Now, once this high kicks in, I see Minho doing a complete and total 180 in his mood. He goes from having this cocky, cold, mischievous and honestly just closed off personality to being the most cuddly, happy, giggly, softest best boi you've ever met in your life.

He smiles more than you've ever seen in your entire life, he GIVES hugs instead of tolerating them and plotting your murder once you have him in your arms (Bangchan is lowkey jealous when he hears about that), he talks about how much he loves and appreciates his members, and even states that he cares for Hyunjin a lot more than he usually lets off.

Course, when you told him what he said once he was sober again, he threatened you that if you told anyone he'd air fry you until you were burnt. Ah, he's so in love with you...

I also have this sneaky suspicion that Minho would want to do things that he really shouldn't do when high. Things such as going to the gym, going out in public because he's an idol and if anyone saw him high he could be in a shit ton of trouble, cook, go and practice dance routines...y'know. The typical Minho stuff.

He'd go on and on and try to reassure you that he was fine, and that he wasn't that far gone. In reality, this poor baby can't even figure out how to zip up his coat.

Now do I think Minho would give weed more chances in the future? Maybe on very special occasions like after parties, but I really don't see him using it often. I think him finding out about how he gets really makes him worry about actually admitting to the fact that him and Jisung do, in fact, have a secret relationship and that he's his one true love. That, or the fact that he secretly wants to have a polyamorous relationship with both you and Jisung.

God only knows at this point.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[soaps-mohawk]

Phill needs to be strapped to a chair. They need to duct tape a glass jar to him with a couple of rats inside. Then blow torch the jar so the rats don’t have any other option than to chew there way out threw him.

The way you write him makes me hate him so much. That’s just because you’re a good writer and you can manipulate (is that even right?) my emotions to feel that way. Your Phil is so disgusting and vile. I hate him so much. I am so glad that it’s not this reality for ‘mega. I could never imagine reading a story like that.

‘Mega never having the freedoms that she has with the 141. You know what I mean by freedoms right? ‘Mega would never get to choose under Phil’s rule. He would shut that crap down as soon as possible and I can’t bear to think what he would do. He would be the type of person to have that fakeness to him. Pretending to smile while deep down he’s threatening you.

It’s more scary when someone does that. Having that undertone to something that they said in a what you assume is a friendly matter. Ugh no thanks. My autism radar would be off the charts.

I don’t know if I read this correctly in the main fic but I’m assuming they think graves is dead?? Like in the reboot series when soap blew up the tank. I’m going to just go with that because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t explicitly said he was dead. I know Shepard is still alive in your fic. Are you going to have John kill him like in MW3?? That would be badass. Finally getting his revenge for hurting ‘mega (instead of getting revenge for everything and soaps death. Rip soap).

This is getting really long.

Anyways how are you? I hope everything is going alright. Just posted my second short story on tumblr ☺️

He deserves that kind of torture in this fic honestly. He is not a good person anyway but he's extra just...icky in this one. I can't not see him that way so...very sorry to the Graves lovers out there. I just can't see him as anything but a yeehaw Texas republican man.

I don't think Graves would be a bad alpha per se, but it would feel a lot like a kind of trad wife situation (which it is). 'Mega is there to keep the image of a perfect house and life and family and have kids and take care of them and the house and the chores. Zero agency, zero choice in anything. Not necessarily abusive, but constantly reminding others of where they stand beneath him in that silent, threatening way.

As far as Graves in the fic....

It's been a lifetime since I've used this gif I've missed it 😂

I'm doing alright, all things considered. Busy busy busy, but busy is good. Makes time go by faster.

[vodkacheesefries]

big spoilers for dragon age the veilguard from early access players beneath the cut.

Also lengthy rambling/opinions.

proceed at thine own peril

In theory I'm okay with things being boiled down into a handful of simple questions to help new incoming players establish a background for their game.

HOWEVER, we're only getting three, and those are:

Did your Inquisitor disband/keep the Inquisition?

Did they vow to save/stop Solas?

Who did they romance?

That's it. This is. A choice.

I get it. it's been 10 years since Inquisition came out and longer since DA2 and DAO. A lot of people probably haven't played the early games, and there are hundreds if not thousands of choices across all three games that including them in Veilguard would be difficult.

But there are a handful of choices/decisions that it is absolutely wild to me that they aren't including in Veilguard's questionnaire. At the bare minimum I was hoping for the following:

What was the fate of your Grey Warden?

What was the fate of your Hawke?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did your Inquisitor disband/keep the Inquisition?

Did your Inquisitor vow to save/stop Solas?

That's it! Only two more questions than we already have, and two of them are the same as the ones we're getting. All of the important story choices, and small choices that you could make in the prior games boil down to the fate of your character in that game so there's no need to get more detailed than that.

For example, obviously if your Warden survived the final battle, the dark ritual took place, so there's no need to ask more about it. Obviously if Hawke was left in the fade, they didn't go to Weisshaupt, and Alistair/Loghain/Stroud stayed in the Fade. Obviously if Morrigan drank from the well of Sorrows, your Inquisitor isn't going to be linked to Mythal, but Morrigan is.

Those feel like arguably the most important story beats from the previous games and I feel like that still keeps it simple enough and doesn't rely on importing potentially thousands of choices you made across the three prior games, while still explaining just enough without having to explain too much to new players.

(side note: I suppose if we want to get extra fancy we can add a question for "Who did your Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor romance" because callbacks to those relationships have always been fun, especially if we're getting any sort of cameo of past companions. Which at this point, I don't think we are.)

As far as past player characters returning, I get why that's hard to do because there's so many different endings for the Warden, and even Hawke post Inquisition. Would I like for them to show back up? Sure. But I'm okay if they don't.

TBH the most I've been hoping for is that maybe somewhere in a level/mission you're on, maybe with Davrin, you could find an easy to miss crumpled up letter/codex entry on it talking about how if your Warden was still alive they found a cure and disappeared into a well deserved retirement and to not bother them with anymore end of the world bullshit ever again.

Hell, I'd even accept it if it mentioned they'd started hearing the Calling and went to the Deep Roads and they're sorry they couldn't do more. I just want to know what happens to them. It doesn't have to be a pivotal plot point or anything.

Crumbs.

I am begging for crumbs, Bioware.

PS: I know it sounds like I'm being incredibly critical of the game, but I am actually very excited for it and I do think I'll enjoy it, despite any ties, or lack thereof, to prior games. I'm a big fan of being critical of the things you enjoy.

Now if you want me to get really critical because I don't like something, ask me how I feel about Inquisition because WHOOO boy I could give a Ted Talk about how much I dislike Inquisition.

[heya-dollface]

What do you have questions about in doll customizing?

Greetings everyone, hope you're doing well! Today, I've got a question for you. What do you have questions about in doll customizing?

I've been at this art form since November of 2018 (it's currently September of 2024 as of the time of this post), and I've learned a LOT in that time. I remember there was a lot I struggled with starting out, and even as I got further along. I've been wanting to create resources for a while to de-mystify doll customizing and help out beginners and well seasoned artists alike. I truly believe that anyone can be an artist if they set their minds to it, and put in the time, effort, and energy to make it happen. But sometimes, we all need help, and the biggest hurdle is often getting started.

So I'm sending out the call to all of you! In my askbox, comments, or reblogs, send your questions in! (Askbox is most preferred, but I'm open to all of these) It doesn't matter if it seems "too obvious" or "farfetched," I want to know what's giving you trouble so that we can try to answer it. It can be anything! Finding the right dolls for your projects, questions about how materials work, techniques with said materials, finding inspiration, photography, overcoming frustration and art block, etc. Help me to help you!

[etherealbelphie]

Obey Me! Brothers at the nail salon (Ft. GN!MC)

Warnings: None!

A/N: Hey y'all! I know it's been a super, super long time since I've posted anything substantial. But a couple nights ago, I randomly got motivation to write and managed to complete the whole thing in one go. So, here we go!

As always, if I've missed a warning please let me know!

-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)

Scenario: You convince one of the demon brothers to accompany you to the nail salon.

Lucifer:

Lucifer wears gloves most of the time, so he doesn't really see the point at first.

(Honestly, he probably wouldn't get them painted regularly at all if it wasn't Asmo doing it. He'd never tell, but Asmo painting his nails is Lucifer's favorite bonding time with his little brother.)

But, you really wanted to go get your nails done at the salon, and he figured since he was there anyway he might as well.

Lucifer is absolutely capable of functioning with long nails, and has done so in the past when attending dinners with Queen Rose.

However, just because he can doesn't means he wants to. And it's more comfortable to keep shorter nails while wearing gloves, anyway. He'd go with a short, round nail.

He wouldn't go with anything overtly flashy or glittery. I think he'd go with something simple but elegant, like this.

(Credit: @/Poshmark on Pinterest)

Mammon:

Mammon has gotten his nails done a couple times at the salon before, but usually it's because the company he's modeling for wants him to, and he has to get them done the way the company asks him to.

He never goes otherwise, since they can be pricey and Asmo offers to do it for free.

But since you really wanted to go, he wasn't going to pass up on the chance to get his done too.

Now that he has free reign on what kind of design he gets, he goes all out.

He gets incredibly long stilleto nails (and greatly underestimated how hard they are to get used to).

And of course, he'd get something super flashy with a lot of gold, silver, jewels, chains, pretty much whatever the salon was offering.

His would end up looking something like this.

(Credit: @/poupie.nails on Instagram (found on pinterest))

Leviathan:

Levi has yet to get his nails done professionally done, mostly because he is not a fan of strangers touching him.

You insisted he didn't need to do this if he wasn't comfortable with it, but he really did want to do this with you.

Levi has had long nails before, but they've always been press-ons that he would wear for conventions and then take off at the end of the day.

Having long nails for weeks? Yeah, he'll pass. Gaming on a keyboard will be near impossible. He ends up with short, round nails.

He also just gets regular polish that he can take off later at home, instead of going back to get it buffed off.

That being said, I still think he'd want something cool. He ends up with some really cool crackle polish.

(Credit: @/ND Nails Supply on Pinterest)

Satan:

Satan hasn't yet been to a nail salon. Like the others, he relies on Asmo to keep his nails out of a state of disaster.

Honestly, I don't think he cares too too much about his nails, as long as they arent filthy and the polish isn't horribly chipped.

As a result, he hasn't really done much experimenting with different colours or designs (despite Asmo's begging).

You suggest this time he gets something different.

He doesn't.

He ends up with some sage green matte nails, slightly longer than his fingertips.

(Credit: @/Prada & Pearls on Pinterest)

But! While he's there, he catches sight of someone with really cute nail art.

He decides to add a little cat, one on each hand. Likely on his thumb, so he can see them while he's holding a book.

I imagine he'd pick a cat design similar to one of these.

(Credit: @/eBay on Pinterest)

Asmodeus:

Unsuprisingly, he's the one who goes to the nail salon the most often.

He could do his own nails if he wanted to (and often does), but he really loves being pampered so he goes quite often.

He is the most likely to expiriment with different styles and colours, but since pink and green are his favorite colours, those are his go-to.

He usually gets very long, stilletto nails and can function perfectly fine with them.

He would definitely want something super intricate and detailed.

He also has the the most patience to sit still for a long manicure, so...y'all are gonna be there a long time.

He'd end up with something like this.

(Credit: @/Etsy on Pinterest)

Beelzebub:

Beel always keeps his nails short.

He does a lot of sports and weight lifting, and he doesn't find long nails easy to work with at all.

He also probably wouldn't want to get anything super fancy either.

See, there's a reason he always gets Asmo to do them, and it's because of how often Beel needs them touched up or redone.

Between getting chipped during his workouts, and the amount of food stains he gets on them, they just don't stay nice for too long.

He also lowkey thinks it's a waste of money he could be spending on food instead (but he'd never tell you that).

Plus, he just doesn't wanna ruin the nail tech's art so soon after they finished. He'd feel bad.

He just gets regular orange polish and a clear top coat.

(Credit: @/Prada & Pearls on Pinterest)

Belphegor:

Belphie also likes having relatively short nails. Tip of the finger, max.

They're easier for day to day , and he doesn't risk accidentally scratching himself (or any cuddle partners) during his sleep.

He avoids rhinestones for the same reason. Slightly too scratchy for his tastes.

That being said, he isn't opposed to a little sparkle. Or even a lot of sparkle.

He would get something dark blue and glittery, because it reminds him of the starts.

(Credit: @/clownprincess on Pinterest)

[aceghosts]

Worriedly inspecting your temperature after noticing your lack of mood and giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead. For Riley and Ingo

Thank you for this one, Biggie! It is a lot of fun to write these two!

[Prompt List]

Summary: When Riley gets sick in the Coronet Highlands, Ingo appears at the right time to help.

Words: 1,351 words.

Content Warnings: I don't think there are any content warnings that need to come with this, but let me know if I need to tag for anything.

Author's Note: Okay, I hope this makes sense as it takes place in Legends Arceus, and before these two are in a relationship. If anything sounds awkward or unclear, just let me know.

AO3

Riley finally needed to admit it: they were sick. Guess running around in the Coronet Highlands during a rainstorm yesterday was a really dumb idea. Wasn’t the first time they made a stupid decision. And it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. They cough, their Garchomp, Chompers, eying them warily. “Oh please, like you’ll catch this.” Riley winces, their already sore throat hurting from speaking.

Chompers snorts, shuffling away from them with a wary look in her eyes. Riley rolls their eyes. “Come on. We’ll head back to the Mountain Camp; we’re not far.” Getting up from the tree they were sitting under, Riley lets out a low groan of protest, their muscles sore and achy. Stepping forward, Riley stumbles, nearly crashing to the ground. Oh no, not good. Out of the corner of their eye, Riley catches Chompers, shaking her head at her human’s stubborn foolishness. They could call one Wyrdeer for a ride, but it would take Wyrdeer a while to arrive, and Riley just wanted to get back to camp to sleep. Biting back a sarcastic remark, Riley starts their slow journey back to camp, one shaky footstep at a time. The wind blows, a shiver running over them.

“RILEY!” Of all the people in this Arceus-forsaken land, it had to be him. It had to be Ingo. Riley nearly wanted to laugh in frustration. It’s not that Riley didn’t want to be around Ingo; They always wanted to be around him. Becoming friends with Ingo and Emmet had been one of the few good decisions in Riley’s life. But it was difficult when he couldn’t remember Riley the way they remember him. It hurt in the worst way possible, something Riley didn’t think could happen. They just wanted their best friend back; They just wanted the man they lov-. No, those thoughts wouldn’t help. Riley would find Arceus and make things right or die trying. They owed Ingo that much.

“Warden Ingo,” Riley turns slowly, trying to not look like they were two seconds from collapsing on the ground, “uh, how are you?”

Ingo’s smile falters, the familiar frown on his face returning. His chrome silver eyes roam over them, taking in their pathetic appearance. “You are unwell,” He notes, his frown deepening, “You should return and rest; safety should be a top priority for all of us. What station do you plan to return to?”

“I’m fine,” Riley snaps, Ingo’s eyes widening. He looks a little hurt, and guilt crashes over Riley. No! They hadn’t meant to make him feel bad; they know he is just trying to help them. “Sorry, just tired, but I’m fine.”

He shakes his head. “You are not as you suggest, fine.” Ingo moves closer to them, invading Riley’s space. Most people would have gotten a sarcastic comment from Riley, but they never minded when Ingo was in their personal space. He presses the back of his hand against their head, a soft gasp escaping from him. “You are burning up! You need to return to the nearest station, immediately.”

“I think I’ll be okay-.”

“Stop,” Ingo cuts them off in the middle of their sentence, “Please do not lie to me, especially when it concerns important matters such as your health.” Riley wants to laugh a little. Back in Unova, it was normally Riley dragging Ingo and Emmet away from their jobs to take a break. And now Ingo was trying to get them to rest. As they search his kind eyes, all Riley finds is concern and something else they can’t quite name. It’s not fair that he looks at them that way, not fair at all. All Ingo had to do was give them those eyes, and Riley could be a complete and utter push-over.

Stepping back as they try to put distance between themself and Ingo, Riley coughs into their elbow, this cough sounding worse than the last. A new wave of anxiety flickers over Ingo’s face, and Riley tries to comfort him. “Don’t worry about it,” They attempt to give him a reassuring thumbs up, “We’re heading back to camp. Chompers is keeping an eye on me.”

“Chomp?” Chompers questions, as if this is news to her.

“It would be irresponsible of me not to conduct your journey safely back to camp. Onward, we go!” Some things never change. Even if he didn’t remember who he was, Ingo was still the same, especially with his one-track mind.

Too tired to continue arguing with him, Riley, Ingo, and Chompers start their journey back to camp. Riley shivers, struggling to keep up with the slow pace set by Ingo and Chompers. They yawn, already wishing they were back in camp, asleep in their bed roll. As they walk, Riley catches Ingo, watching them closely, practically hovering over them. Every time they even stumble slightly, they see Ingo move, ready to catch them if they should fall. “Something on your mind?” Riley asks.

Ingo is silent for a second, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “Do you feel capable of walking?”

Riley raises an eyebrow. “I thought that’s what I was doing.” Poorly, but they were upright, at least. Gotta look on the bright side.

“You seem to be struggling. Please allow me to assist you; I do not want to watch you hurt yourself.” Riley stops, Ingo stopping beside them. “Please.” He adds softly, giving Riley those eyes again.

Arceus, be damned. “How do you want to help? It might be a little hard for me to lean on you, since-.” Riley motions between the two, Ingo being significantly taller than them. It sucked being short sometimes.

Tipping the brim of his tattered cap down, Riley notices the faint blush on his cheeks that he is trying to hide. “I could carry you back.”

Riley’s cheeks heat up. “I wouldn’t want-.”

“You would not be,” He blurts out loudly, Riley slightly wincing, “In fact, I insist! We could call Sneasler if you would prefer, but our journey would proceed much quicker if you allowed me to carry you.”

Ingo is right. Even though she comes as fast as she can, it does take Sneasler some time to get to Riley. “Okay, you can carry me.”

Clearing his throat awkwardly, the red on Ingo’s cheeks grows a little brighter. “I am going to pick you up now. Please be careful,” He warns them as if Riley might startle. They simply nod, allowing Ingo to pick them up in his arms. Riley wraps their arms around his neck, a sense of security washing over them. For the first time, Riley felt safe in Hisui, here in Ingo’s arms. Leaning their head against his chest, Riley lets out a soft, content sigh. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah,” They yawn, “I am.”

“Excellent! Onward, we go!” Ingo starts walking, Chompers still beside the pair. As Ingo walks, Riley feels their eyelids growing heavy. Between their closeness to Ingo and the rhythm of his walking, Riley succumbs to sleep, finally feeling safe to do so.

--

Ingo glances down, unsurprised to find Riley asleep in his arms. Their body is warm against his, leaving Ingo with an almost familiar feeling of happiness. He does worry that they seem so reckless with their health. A tight flare of panic rises in his chest at the thought of losing them. Even before Riley explained that they knew each other in his previous life, Ingo found himself drawn to the other stranger who fell from the sky. Something about Riley immediately felt familiar, as if Ingo had known them his whole life. Yet, he has no memories of them, something which bothers him deeply. Perhaps, Ingo could ask them a few questions when they felt better.

“Please take care of yourself. No one, especially I, would like to see harm come to you.” Ingo presses a soft kiss against their forehead, unable to help himself. Riley snuggles closer to him, a soft satisfied sigh leaving them. Ingo is unable to help himself, the smile breaking out on his face. Now, to return safely to their destination.            

[willowlight-shadows]

[crazypenguinwriter]

Character Creation

I wanna give my two cents on something.

So like, I've started to come across a lot of posts on Pinterest about creating entire lists on your characters from their name to their favorite plants and the way they count on their hands. And while there's nothing wrong with making lists for your characters, you don't need to know the favorite snack of every character you create. If you ask me, the most important things you need to know about your character are quite simple:

Their full name (including second, third, however many names they have)

Their age (you can do this approximately, if you don't know an exact number)

Their basic appearance (color of hair, eyes, are they tall/short/broad/slim). Do note the word 'basic', no details are necessary (though if a character has a trinket of some kind they always wear for whatever reason, this is included in the list)

Their personality, or what defines them. This helps you give them a correct voice (hotheads react and act differently than those with a level head) and can help you figure out how they'd interact with other characters. Now do note that this shouldn't be an entire essay or even a long list, as you should be able to see what's up with a quick glance.

Background. This includes family, friends, how they grew up... This one will be the longest, but shouldn't be too detailed either. Just enough to help you see where the character came from and what defines them, what goals they might have and what morals they gained overtime. These can tie back into their personality (and usually do, if I'm honest. We're a complex being filled with mannerisms that come from our history and culture we grew up in, so of course your character's personality is linked with their background)

Other things. Now this one is very, very vague, but here is where I usually put things that define my character but don't fit any of the previously mentioned things. Their favorite plant, if it's relevant to the story in some way (or you just got inspiration and wanted to put it in).

Do keep in mind that this is how I do character creation, and what works for me. If you're more inclined to fill in the essays and long lists of questions for each and every character go ahead, don't let me stop you. I just think that it's quite time-consuming, and I'd rather spend that time either writing the story or being busy with the world-building. Besides, characters change all the time, as we all do. Hotheads can learn to be calmer, level headed characters can learn to let lose and explode, naïve characters grow up and learn to be skeptical... The possibilities are endless, which is why I do my character creation this way. I also usually start with the most important characters (the protagonists, the antagonists) and add others when the plot demands me to. And I spend a long time plotting, so some characters get scrapped or rewritten so many times I've lost count, and I'm not going to spend every time that happens on the '50 questions I need to know about your characters' when I can be writing and rewriting the plot for the umpteenth time.

Anyways, that's my two cents on the topic. Have fun creating!

[lazylittledragon]

i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD

[eveningrainstorm]

cycle knots