#no i will not be watching any more of the show because its insufferable to me for reasons

[the-stars-are-warring]

So I watched the solitary clone for reasons and I'm sure it's been said but it is infinitely funny that all it took was one (1) mission with Empire!Crosshair for Commander "By the book loyalty" Cody to ditch the Republic empire.

My man really just left Crosshair by the memorial, said "fuck this shit for real" and dipped.

[celiababy]

Ain't Right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide

Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.

Ain't Right part 2

Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.

Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.

When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.

Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.

And you certainly were not one of those select people.

Joel didn't know what to think about you.

To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.

He felt this way because he knew.

Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.

He didn't like the thought of you liking him.

You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.

He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.

He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.

"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.

So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.

You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.

You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.

"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.

"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.

"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.

He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.

"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.

Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.

"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"

Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.

Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.

He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.

He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.

"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.

You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***

The trip is a complete bust.

Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.

You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.

But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.

You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.

But you do anyways.

You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.

You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.

You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.

"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.

"Why not?"

A beat.

"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.

"Why won't you fuck me?"

Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.

"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.

Completely disregarding his words, you start.

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"

Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.

"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.

You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.

"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"

You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."

"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."

You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.

He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

That urges you to say more.

"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."

Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.

Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.

But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.

"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.

He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.

Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.

You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.

Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.

He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.

Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.

"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."

***

Nobody had seen you in days.

The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.

No one has ever denied you—ever.

The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.

Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.

But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.

He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.

Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.

He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.

He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.

He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"

He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.

His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.

It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.

"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.

He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.

"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.

You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.

You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.

Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.

"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"

His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.

An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.

"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.

He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.

"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.

"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."

Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.

There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.

“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.

“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.

You probably have.

After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.

The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.

Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?

You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.

“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.

But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.

You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.

You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.

Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.

Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.

Fuck.

He was fucked this time.

He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.

He’s really gone soft.

***

When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.

You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.

You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.

Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.

He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.

"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.

You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.

He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.

Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.

“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.

“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”

His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.

You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.

“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.

You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.

You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.

You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.

You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.

Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.

In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.

The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.

Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.

“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”

You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.

His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.

Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.

A beat of silence falls over the both of you.

You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.

“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.

You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”

“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.

He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.

He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.

You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.

Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.

He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”

You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.

Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.

Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”

“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.

You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”

“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"

Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.

Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.

"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.

However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.

Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.

"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.

Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.

But then he paused.

Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.

If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.

He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.

(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)

There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.

Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.

His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.

Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.

Time is moving in slow motion.

You can't believe it's finally happening.

He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.

"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.

You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.

With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.

"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.

Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.

"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.

Of course, you're not wearing a bra.

Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.

He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.

You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.

Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".

Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.

He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.

A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.

"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.

"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.

"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.

You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.

"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.

You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.

Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.

Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.

Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.

You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.

Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.

He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.

In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.

"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.

Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.

Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.

"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.

You feel victorious.

He's finally given in to you.

Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.

"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.

He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.

“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.

He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.

He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.

He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.

He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.

You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.

It’s better than you imagined, perfect.

“I don’t have a—”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.

Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.

“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.

Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”

Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.

He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.

He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.

You freeze.

Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.

He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.

Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.

He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.

“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.

Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”

Ah fuck.

Joel finds you so charming it hurts.

After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.

“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”

You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.

He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”

Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.

He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.

But you’re taking it like a champ.

Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.

The sensation is absolutely delicious.

A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.

“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.

Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.

“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.

You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.

But then it hits you.

“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.

Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.

In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.

Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.

“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.

“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.

Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.

He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.

Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.

Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.

You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.

Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow

Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.

"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.

You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.

Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.

"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.

He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.

You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.

The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.

Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.

Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.

It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.

"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.

You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.

When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.

"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.

You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.

"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.

It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

In a staggering turn of events, you come first.

Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.

You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!

Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.

God he was so beautiful.

His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.

When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.

Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?

"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.

He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.

He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.

You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.

And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.

There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.

"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"

You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.

"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.

Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.

"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.

He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"

You're kidding. But you're also not at all.

Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.

You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.

"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.

He couldn't believe the youth these days.

[cherrylimecider]

>> college hockey player! ellie williams x reader

Ellie is the all star hockey player winning multiple championships for the University of Washington. She’s cocky a player and incredibly insufferable to you.

You’re the All-Star perfect student, easing every test and assignment in the architecture department at the University of Washington. You’re cocky, perfect and incredibly insufferable to Ellie.

When you encounter your ex-girlfriend at a party, you strike a deal with Ellie Williams to pretend to be your girlfriend for the hockey season. It gets too complicated to keep up with…

Read more on ao3 or wattpad @teawice 🤍

snippet from chapter 1:

The music is still blasting and yet it feels so quiet in here. If anyone knows the extent of what happened between me and Abby, it's Dina. Dina who was there for me when the falling out happened. Dina who came to check up on me everyday and made sure I brushed my teeth, Dina who would send texts to make sure I ate. So, as we stood there in our glaring battle, she quickly grabs my hand and in her motherly tone says, "Whatever is happening here." She gestures. "It's done, let's go, y/n."

"What's the rush, Dina?" I resist. "Everything is perfectly fine." I squeezed her hand in comfort and then let go. I glance back and forth from Dina to Abby. "You and I are still here to have fun and celebrate, and no blonde is going to ruin our night, besides I've moved on to better..."

"You what?" Dina asks, not picking up on any of my bluff and whatever drunken stupidity is going to slip from my mouth. She whispers, "Girl, what are you doing."

"So, who's the unfortunate gal?" Abby says as she is still there leaning against Owen, watching all this about to fall out.

If there's anything about me, I may be the most painfully prideful person in this room (aside from Abby, of course). If lying will get me to the top, then so be it. It doesn't help that I also chose a career that required me to have thick skin and learn to desensitize criticism given to me. Instead of succumbing to Abby like I have for the past year, I just really want to stick it to her for once. Show her that I will always be better, always win, that she was just a chapter that I could close and never think about again. So, everything that I was about to say may have been one of the dumbest decisions I have ever made, but the look on her face made it all worth it for a solid five seconds.

"Oh, you know, just the captain of the lady husky hockey team." I shrug as say with a casual attitude, trying to one-up Abby. 

"Oh my god." Dina mumbles as if finally catching on to whatever drunken nonsense I was doing. In the corner of my eyes, I could see her pinch the bridge of her nose. She must be so proud of me for sticking it to Abby.

"You're dating Ellie Williams?" Abby asks.

She is not proud of me. Dina had not informed me that Ellie was appointed as the new captain, and it was fair because Dina knew Ellie and I could not stand each other as Dina is, separately, both of our best friends. Doesn't help that Dina and I have been to busy to catch up as well.

The only reason I said the captain of the women's hockey team was because I knew Cat was the captain, or so I thought. Cat and I hung out once or twice and I knew she had a small crush on me after Ellie broke up with her. Cat was a pretty Asian girl, covered in pretty tattoos, dark hair that was exactly my type. So, bringing her up would have been easy to cover up, I could have said we are just hooking up and that its nothing serious. Only, I didn't know that Ellie freaking Williams was now the captain of the hockey team.

Ellie Williams, who is very much not into me and if she does date around, it's serious. If there's one thing, I learned from Dina is that Ellie isn't the type to mess around or be a sleeze. She's the type that's dedicated to her craft, her sport. Ellie who I know doesn't like me because I'm "too uptight." It's not like she's the most relaxed person ever either. Sure, she is cool and has a ton of friends, the press loves her look and her happy attitude, but I'm the one who knows that she herself is just as cocky as I am. Inconsistent of her if you ask me.

Last spring, I ran into her while in line to get coffee. I tried to hold a small conversation since it would be awkward if I just ignored her as if we weren't right next to each other in line. It was casual, nothing serious, just the usual "how's life, how's class, how's hockey?" basic questions as a friendly gesture. Ellie had the driest responses as if to get me to stop. That was my final effort to be friendly and right after, I sent a text to Dina about what had happened.

Ellie Williams in a million years would never give me the time of day, not a word, not even a look. And I had just proposed that Ellie Williams is my girl.

Like a deer in the headlights, I just scratch the back of my neck. But I can't just back out now, Abby is standing in front of me, in full understanding of my dislike for Ellie and her own dislike for her. With all the drinks I have had within the last thirty minutes, the only logical response to the situation is to keep going.

Dina is most certainly not proud.

"Of course," I say with confidence.

"Really?" Abby says trying to catch my bluff.

"Yeah, its been a month now."

"Wasn't she just with Cat?"

"That's old news, Abby. Jeez you're just late with everything huh?"

"We are leaving now y/n." Dina grabs my hand and tries to drag me away.

"You know I am on team now, right?" Abby says.

The pit in my stomach has grown into a full Olympic sized swimming pool. I feel my hands and feet go cold. My eyes shift to Dina's and we both think the same thing. She hasn't had the time to tell me anything in a while, so this was news that never got to me. I just dug my grave.

Before getting too lost in my thoughts, I feel a warm and strong hand around my waist accompanied with warm coffee sent. "Hey babe, I was looking for you."

I looked to my right and check to see who it is, only I knew who it was as soon as the voice spoke and the sent reached my nose.

Ellie fucking Williams.

Read more on ao3 or wattpad @teawice 🤍

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Memento Amoris Aeterni

Source for Pic

Word Count: 7155

Tags: Fem!Reader, NSFW - Oral - you receiving, reader is VERY inexperienced (it's medieval times and you're a princess. You know nothing), Angst without happy ending (!), some fluff, Protective Ace, Caring Ace, some gore, blood, cutting of limbs, medieval times AU. MDNI!!! 🔞

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You are a princess, the sole heir to the kingdom and a prized possession for your father, until he can sell you to the highest bidder. Because of your value, you have a personal guard, Sir Portgas, who seems bored to death with the task of watching over you. However, you realise that he's just hiding his feelings behind a mask. Yet perhaps now it is too late?

Notes: So I saw this post, and I just had to... I was going to do something very short, I swear, but it escalated! Hope you enjoy!

The meadow looks beautiful this time of year. The vibrant reds from the poppies, the purples from the lavenders, the whites from the daisies, and scattered here and there, some yellows from the sweet buttercups and blues from cornflowers. 

It feels like pure freedom. 

Your dainty fingers caress the grass as you run, hoisting your long dress over one arm, ignoring the way your white stockings are showing and laughing nervously at the way you almost lose a slipper. 

Freedom. 

Except not quite. The very ground shakes beneath the thunderous hooves of the galloping horse and you curse beneath your breath, running a little faster, with much more carelessness. Almost there, you almost made it across the meadow this time! 

Your hastened breaths leave your parted lips in short puffs while you overexert your tired lungs. You already know freedom is not ahead of you, but you'll be damned if you're going to give him the satisfaction of your surrender. 

Two more strides are all you get before an armoured arm circles your waist and effortlessly pulls you on top of the brown steed. You are now trapped between two arms while your legs dangle on the side of the horse. Still fighting to catch your breath, you grunt, curse and frown while clenching your hands into tight fists. 

“Curses upon you Sir Portgas!” Akin to a child in the midst of a fiery tantrum, you cross your arms over your chest and point your nose to the clear sky. “I was almost out!”

The horse steadies its pace into a trot while a deep chuckle graces your ears. “You were nowhere near ‘out’, Princess.” He tsks and you can almost feel his dark gaze upon your face. “Of all the jobs in the guard, I had to draw the short stick and land this one…”

Another grunt emerges from your gritted teeth. “Some knights would die for the honour of guarding the princess!”

“Those knights are idiots.”

“At least they're not insufferable!”

Another rumble of laughter is all you get and just as well because you are not willing to give anything more. 

You are the sole heir of the Kingdom and the most prized possession your father holds. As an heiress and a princess, he will get to pick and choose of any noble to be your husband. And he will pick either the wealthiest or the one who can bring him more advantages, be they military, political or financial. You are sure that whoever he picks, will either be hideous, decrepit or disgusting. 

With your luck, all three combined. 

As you are of utter importance, the King has assigned a permanent guard to you, Sir Portgas D. Ace. The best knight of the Guard, known to possess some mystical fire abilities, though you are sure that is just mere hearsay, and a known heartbreaker. Of that, you don't doubt. 

He is as handsome as he is unbearable. And that is saying a lot. 

“Your father the king will be utterly displeased at, yet another attempt to escape.” He says dryly. 

You grunt in response, busy plucking tiny burdocks from the hem of your dress and throwing them at Sir Portgas’s cape, unbeknownst to him. “Then don't tell him.”

“When I took this job, I thought I would be fighting brigands, thieves or assassins.” He scoffs. “Instead, I'm stuck as a milk nanny of a brat.”

“The job suits you. Takes a brat to recognize another one.” You mumble and hiss, a particularly nasty spike from the burdock protruding from your bleeding thumb. 

“Oh, heavens. The Princess is bleeding. Call the priest.” He guffaws and you scowl, your eyes turning into slits. 

“Amusing jest. Perhaps you should try your fortune as a court jester? Mayhaps you wouldn't be so bored?” Using your nails, you try to pick the spike, but it just breaks with the force and you curse, stifling a low whine. 

Sir Portgas removes his steel glove, settling it on his lap, and grabs your delicate hand with his. Your hiss this time has nothing to do with the pain, but with the electric feeling that courses through your body, leaving a tingling sensation on your extremities. 

His dark gaze bores into yours as he presses your thumb into his mouth and sucks. The day is not even hot, yet you feel as if your skin has set ablaze. He uses his tongue on your digit, procuring the spike and, once he finds it, he nibbles and sucks again. 

If you thought his hand on yours had caused a tingling feeling, his tongue has somehow made that tingling seem insignificant. You are aching and burning in places you shouldn't be. 

Your teeth clamp hard against your lower lip to stifle some weird sound that means to get out, yet your breath comes out in heaves through your nose and your peculiar mind says you must look like a tired horse: nostrils flaring, sweat dampening your mane and hot, flushed skin. 

Sir Portgas removes your thumb from his mouth after what resembles an eternity, and he spits towards the ground, gracing you with a smug smile. “There. No more vile thorn can harm you, my lady. I took care of your foe, as I was hired to do.”

Yet, for once, you are speechless. 

There is no counter jest, there is no witty remark. You cradle your hand against your lap and remain silent the rest of the way to the castle, your eyes never leaving the safety of the horse’s head. 

If Sir Portgas finds it peculiar, he does not say so. 

-*-

“I do not understand this need to escape, child! Do you not have all you wish for here in the castle? I give you all the gowns you desire, the pretty jewels, the fancy shoes! If you get bored I send for jesters, for animals, for dancers or plays! If you wish to meet new people, I host tournaments and gatherings! What is it you wish for that I cannot grant you? Pray, tell!”

You face the floor, your hands clasped in the front of your ruined and tattered gown. Your shoes look as if they had been through war and your hair has never been in a more dishevelled state.

Sir Portgas stands at attention behind you, to your right. His gaze facing forward, his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. He doesn’t even flinch. You know he didn’t tell your father anything, he was with you the whole time. It was the guards by the gate that relayed that information. 

Now you are being scolded for yet another botched escape attempt. You had already lost count of how many there were. You had nineteen springs to your name, now. And your time must be near.

“I do not hear your words! Speak up! What do you want that I have not given you?”

A single tear escapes your eye and runs freely down your cheek. 

“Freedom.”

You catch a slight movement from Sir Portgas from the corner of your eye. His gaze meets yours, even if only for a second, as his jawline tightens and clenches. An almost soundless clank from the armour as his hand grips the handle harder.

“Preposterous. You will never be free. You belong to me now, child, and soon you will belong to your husband. That is the way of things. Begone!”

You hold your head high and your shoulders square as you exit the throne room and pass through an entire contingent of guards. Yet, as soon as the door closes behind you, your hands lift your skirts once more and you flee to your room as fast as your tired feet can take you. It does not matter that you are half-blinded by tears as you know the way around the castle as if it were the back of your hand.

You do not hear Sir Portgas following you, yet, he will find you. He always does.

Curse him.

-*-

The rain hits the carriage roof with extreme intensity. There’s mud on the road and the horses are dragging the vehicle to the best of their abilities, but the rain is cold and harsh and you can see smoke emerging from their flared nostrils from where you’re standing. 

You’re returning from a visit to a cousin, in the next kingdom. You have been away for three weeks and nothing has changed. Your life is dull and you are still trapped in it like a hare in a string trap, just waiting for the hit on the head so you’re fed to the hunter. 

Sighing you let out a loud huff. Your handmaiden keeps staring out the window with dreamy eyes and she ahhs and ohhs as if she has an affliction. You have half a mind to ask her if she’s constipated or in pain when you realise she’s staring at Sir Portgas, who rides next to the carriage.

He has removed his helmet because of the rain and his dark locks cling to his face and forehead with the heavy rain. His eyes are steely and dart from one side to the other, ever alert to any danger. Handsome as ever.

You roll your eyes at yet another insufferable sigh from the woman across from you. “Enough!” You bite. “I cannot stand another moan from your mouth. What is so interesting?”

“He is, my lady.” She giggles like a little girl and you feel your chest clench and contract as  anger boils within you. What is this feeling?

“Are you jesting?”

“I would never! He is so gallant and valiant. And his freckles? His smile? The way he fights?” Another sigh. You have had enough.

You’re about to order the carriage to stop because you wish to feel the rain on your face at the back of a horse. Instead, you hear dry thuds followed by screams and then, the tip of a spear protruding the carriage door and opening your maid’s skull with a sickening sound.

Your scream gets trapped in your throat, but your lips tremble incessantly. There are tears running from your eyes and you start to pant fast as your eyes never leave the gory image in front of you.

She still has her eyes open, her mouth shaped like an ‘o’ as blood and grey matter are splattered around her. Did the blood get on you as well? You dare not look. She was just laughing and now she’s so still.

You’re trembling. The screams and shouts outside increase in volume and proximity and the carriage halts to a full stop as you hear a pained neigh of a horse. The thuds of your heart grow louder and louder, as if it's beating right in your ears and your pants come in shortened gasps as your head gets lighter. 

The plush of the seat you are on gives in as your fingernails dig and scratch to ground yourself. There is so much blood. 

So much screaming.

Suddenly the door to the carriage jolts open and you turn in terror, barely having time to scream, and even if you meant to scream, you wouldn’t be able to. A wet, clammy hand finds its way to your mouth to keep you quiet and you’re inundated with the nauseating smell of metal.

Blood.

Another hand grabs you by the arm and yanks hard to pull you out of the carriage. You’re sure it will bruise. Yet, you couldn’t care less. As soon as you’re out of the carriage and you clumsily find your footing, before the man - whose appearance you are yet to perceive - manages to take you away, you bite his fingers with all the strength you possess.

Blood. Again. 

This time it fills your mouth and you spit it on the floor as soon as the man drops you, with surprise. Your knees scrape against the rocks and mud below you and you claw your way forward until you find the strength to be on your feet, preparing to run.

All around you men clash swords. There’s agonised screams and blood everywhere. You need to go!

Yet you barely get one step in before a bloody hand clasps around your neck and squeezes. “Going somewhere, you little princess whore.” The man lifts you easily off the ground and your throat aches and your lungs burn. You try to gasp for air but nothing but wheezes leave your parted lips.

Your fingernails scratch relentlessly against his hand but he does not relent. Around you the sounds of battle seem to fade into the distance. Legs dangling, your feet try to kick the man holding you, but strength fails you and you are sure this is the way you die. “Just pass out, little whore.” He whispers in your ear as his wet tongue swipes your neck and ear.

You can’t squirm away. You can’t fight back. You’re useless. 

You feel your eyelids drooping as your chest trembles and your arms fall limply beside you. But just as you’re about to dive into sweet oblivion, a sword swings and cuts right through the man’s arm, making you fall and stumble forward, right into the arms of your knight. Your guard, your protector.

Sir Portgas.

He holds you against him effortlessly as you gasp for air and cough. A pressure on your throat that burns and hurts. But you’re safe.

“Breathe, Princess. I won’t let anything happen to you.” The man that was holding you mutters incoherently. Begging for his life, pleading for mercy, asking for aid from the gods. Yet you know that all is in vain. Your knight was made to protect you. He will kill anyone or anything that attempts to take your life.

Still holding you he moves his blade effortlessly and you hear a blood-curdling scream. Trying to normalise your breath, you turn your face to look back, but Ace holds your head against him with a gloved hand. “It’s best if you don’t look.” You nod against him, feeling your legs faint from fear.

“We are going to run. Close your eyes and hold my hand. I will guide you. Do you trust me?” You lift your head to look into his eyes and there is tenderness, determination, courage and something else you can’t quite place, as he looks down at you.

“With my life.” Your whisper comes in shaky gasps and he nods, holding your hand in his.

“Run.” He orders and you do. Your eyes clenched shut as you still hear screams and the sound of colliding blades. 

Something whooshes past you and you hear a roar of sorts, at the same time as Sir Portgas mutters something under his breath. There is another scream - close, too close! - and the stench of burning flesh. 

“I’m going to pick you up. Keep your eyes closed, Princess.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice. And as he hoists you over his shoulder by the waist, you clamp your hands against your ears to keep the sounds away.

But the screaming doesn’t stop.

It never stops.

-*-

You feel yourself being set down on the ground but it’s as if the shock has left you in a rigid state. Your hands remain on your ears and your eyes shut tightly. There’s someone calling your name and shaking you but you have retreated so far into your mind that you can’t come back easily.

“..ss… Princess!”

Your eyes snap open as you gasp and a loud sob leaves your parted lips. Tears flood down and you try to release yourself from the firm hands that are holding you down. 

“It’s me, it’s me! Ace! Everything is fine! Princess, calm down!” He whispers your name. “Please calm down. Look at me.”

Still panting and gasping for air, your nails digging into his bloodied armour, you lock eyes with his dark gaze. He looks worried and pained, and you focus on his freckles instead, counting them to ground yourself.

One, two…

“It’s over, we escaped, we are fine.”

Three, four…

“I’m not sure anyone else survived. We have no horses, no food, no clothes or shelter.”

Five, six…

“The rain has given us some truce for the time being, but it won’t let up the whole night. We will rest for a bit, and then we have to go.”

Seven, eight…

“Princess, are you with me?” You don’t know when he took the gloves off, but his warm hand makes contact with your cheek and you gasp, your eyes focusing back on his. “There is nothing to fear. I won’t let anyone or anything harm you. You have my promise.”

You nod and gulp. Another tear escapes your eyes and he wipes it with his thumb.

“It could have been me.” You whisper and your voice is rasp. Your throat is sore and raw and you realise you are quite thirsty. “The spear… it just… her head… she was… she…”

He nods and mumbles some soothing words. “You’re alive. You’re fine. Try not to think of what you saw. I’ll take you home.”

You nod as your hand scratches your throat. Sir Portgas reaches and hands you a leather pouch. “Drink. It’s water.”

He sits on the floor for a moment as he sheds his steel armour. 

“Should you be taking that off? What if there are more enemies?” You ask, concerned. 

“I am faster without it, anyway. And all the noise will just give our location away to those listening.”

Makes sense. 

He gives you another moment to rest and then extends his hand to help you up. Your eyes fall on your dress and you frown. It is splattered with blood, mud and all kinds of stains. Not to mention that it is soaked through. 

“Come, we need to find shelter. It’s almost nightfall.”

You are surrounded by forest, you have no idea what kind of shelter he means to find, but you trust him completely. He was assigned to you two years ago, when you were presented to society and your father started entertaining nobles who wanted a claim on your hand. 

Luckily, none suited his fancy enough to tempt him. 

Sir Portgas has never left your side once. He sleeps when you sleep, eats when you eat, gets up when you get up. His duty to you is never-ending. He knows all there is to know about you. And you only know what he wanted to share with you. Next to nothing, because he always found the job boring.

As both of you walk through the woods, feeling the gentle pitter-patter of the slow rain, you feel as if you have calmed down enough. There is still adrenaline rushing through your veins, and you release it by holding a long, thick stick and swiping leaves with it, as if it were a sword.

“Who attacked us?”

He keeps his eyes ahead, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword so tight, his knuckles are white. 

“I’m not sure. There were no banners.”

“Brigands, you think? They saw the coach and decided we might have treasures to steal?”

“Most likely.” He grunts.

“But you don’t think that was the case?”

He stops and you bump into his hard back, as you were staring at your stick. You mumble an apology and feel your cheeks warm up. Never had you noticed how taut and defined he was, beneath the steel armour.

Looking at you, his eyes now permanently creased with concern, he sighs. “They were too organised to be simple brigands or thieves. They had military precision so they had to belong to an army. An enemy army, perhaps. I need to take you back home.”

He tugs at your arms and starts walking again. 

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back home.” You whisper, but you keep walking alongside him. He divides his attention with your surroundings and your face.

“I can understand that, but it is far too dangerous. We need to know if the King received some sort of ransom note or-...”

“I don’t care! You can leave me wherever and go back to my father saying they killed me! I cannot return home to be sold like cattle to the highest bidder!”

You refuse to let tears leave your eyes this time. He stops again and stares at you. You can’t read him. 

At all.

“There.” He points behind you and you turn. It’s a small cave. “It will have to do. Come.” And just like that he decides the argument is over and drags you to the entrance, collecting some random sticks along the way. It is actually a rather large cave and Sir Portgas takes the wood from your hand, rips a piece of his tunic and ties it to the end of the wood. 

Muttering a few words, a flame shoots out of his fingers and he lights the cloth easily. You look at him, flabbergasted and awestruck. So it is true. He has fire powers.

“Fascinating.” You can’t help but exclaim under your breath.

“Thank you, Princess.” He replies with a smirk and tells you to follow him as he delves into the bowels of the cave. 

Deeming you far enough not to be spotted, he drops the sticks he collected in a neat pile, adds some more wood that’s scattered inside the cave, and lights it with the flame he’s already holding.

“Undress, Princess, you don’t want to catch a cold.”

“Pardon?” You should really stop blushing. It is embarrassing.

He is already removing his tunic and breeches, leaving only his undergarments on for some modesty and you look away. 

“If you worry about modesty today, you will be dead of pneumonia tomorrow. Undress your gown and set it to dry.” He says as he drapes his clothes on a large rock near the place he built the fire. “I promise I won’t bite.”

You take a moment to consider, but you know he’s right. You’re already feeling tremors for staying out in the rain for so long. So you do know you will get sick if you don’t get out of the wet clothes.

With a heavy sigh you try to remove the ribbons that hold your dress together, but you can’t reach them. 

“Sir Portgas…” You start, your voice a mere whisper.

“It’s Ace.”

“Ace.” The name rolls off your tongue like something sinful and you lower your gaze. “I require your assistance, please.” 

As he raises his head towards you, he immediately understands your predicament. He gets up and approaches your back with slow steps. Catching your breath, you lower your neck a bit.

His fingers are soft against the bare skin of your neck as he moves your hair from your nape to the side, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. The shiver that crawls up your spine has nothing to do with the cold.

His face draws near as he untangles the ribbons and you can feel his breath against your neck and upper back. The tingling sensations return to your body, leaving you breathless and panting. There is a need deep within you that you don’t quite understand or know how to fulfil. 

Yet, you have an inkling that Ace could very well fulfil it. And he would certainly know how.

He removes the last ribbon and steps back a pace. “There.” Ace's voice sounds deeper than before and, when you turn, his eyes are all pupil as he stares at you. Your heartbeat accelerates as you lock eyes with him, silently begging him not to look away as your fingers gently tug at the gown, undressing. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes fall to your chemise-covered bosom as the muscle in his jaw twitches.

The need for something intensifies and you reach forward, touching him through the fabric of his linen shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest. 

“Princess…” He whispers. 

“Ace…”

You take a step forward and hold his hand. It's big and calloused from the swords but it's so warm. 

“Touch me.” You plead. You could order him, though you're not sure he would follow that order. 

“I…” He seems torn. You know he's a loyal knight. He serves valiantly and believes in the kingdom he protects. Touching you would be treasonous and could lead to execution.

You decide to be honest. “I feel… I don't quite know how to explain it, but when you touch me, like when you did with the thorn I had on my finger, or when you lift me up to place me in your horse there's…” You exhale deeply. “A warmth, a fire within me that I don't know how to handle.” Lowering your gaze and swallowing a lump in your throat, you make a final plea. “Teach me how to handle it, Ace.”

He groans but doesn't take his hand away from yours. So you brazenly place it above your chest. Watching him closely, you see his eyes darken as his hand twitches and he grits his teeth. 

“Princess, I…” 

“I have been told that men lie with women to procreate. I wasn’t informed of all the details, but I've heard the maids whisper about things that can be done that do not get a woman with child.” Could you be burning up more? Are you seriously asking this of Ace? 

He remains frozen in place, his hand still on your chest and you feel like a fool. 

Sighing you swat his hand away and turn. “Forget I said anything.” Yet his strong arm envelops your waist and he pulls your body against his, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling. 

“Gods above and below…” He mutters against your skin and you tremble. “Is this really happening?” You feel something hard against your lower back and flush. You know what it is. But you've never seen one. You don't know what to expect. “Princess… You are correct, there are things we can do that do not get you with child and assure you remain intact until your wedding night.” His voice seems pained. “Are you certain that-...”

“Yes!” You moan, No longer able to contain the need inside you. Not when his hot breath is fanning against your neck, not when his hand is squeezing your waist nor when his hardness presses against your back. Your need is him! You're sure of it. 

“I have dreamed of this for so long…” He whispers. You want to ask what he means by that, but then his tongue draws circles on your neck and around your earlobe and you gasp, all thoughts dissolving into nothingness. His hands fall on your shoulders and he hooks his fingers on the sleeves of your chemise. “Princess…”

“Take it off.” You command. 

He tugs at the fabric and the garment crumples on the floor, leaving you with nothing but your white stockings. You blink as you focus your eyes on your body. You're not cold, yet your nipples are erect and there are goosebumps all over your skin. It's a reaction to his touch. 

You turn slowly, cheeks ablaze as you seek his eyes. Ace gulps as he takes you in. “Can I kiss you?” He starts but then shakes his head and groans. “No, forget it, that should be reserved for your husband.”

Yet you don't care about a possible husband in a future you can’t yet forsee. You want Ace's lips. And you want them now. 

So you grab his face and pull him down, clumsily pressing your lips to his and bumping your teeth together. After a moment he chuckles into your mouth and you flush and pull back, embarrassed. 

“Don't get mad at me, Princess.” He says, a glimmer in his eyes and a softness you’ve never seen before. His hand grips your hip as he pulls you towards him. A thumb gently stroking the bone of your hip, sending a warm wave of heat towards your centre. Lowering his head, he gently pulls your face to him by putting a hand on your nape. This time, when your lips collide, it's with softness. He moves them and you moan involuntarily. His sinful tongue licks and teases and you open your mouth, gasping as he takes your tongue in his and swirls. 

The sensation is divine. 

You had no idea a kiss could be like this. None of the books mentioned it! It’s making your heart flutter against your chest and causing an ache and a burn between your legs. You still don’t know how to handle it.

But Ace does. 

His hand finds its way to your breast and he slowly teases the nipple, flicking it softly with his thumb. You pull away from the kiss and gasp again. “Oh, my!”

“Did that feel good?” You nod vigorously. “That's good, Princess. I'm going to make you feel even better.”

He lowers you down so you sit on top of your dress. “If you don't like something, tell me.” You nod. 

“Can you take this off?” You grab his shirt and he smirks, pulling the linen garment over his head. His muscles are very defined and you take your time pressing your fingers against his chest and abs. There is a dark trail of hair that leads to the inside of his underwear but as your fingers trace it, he grasps your hand in his and kisses your fingers. 

“Let us take care of that warmth you feel first, shall we?” You nod and lie back, nervous. 

He starts slowly, his gentle fingers tracing patterns on your skin, lingering on the nipples, watching the rise and fall of your breasts as he finds what feels particularly good. And then he devours you. 

His eager mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and teasing with his tongue. 

“What?” You arch your back against his touch and the fire keeps spreading. Fiery tendrils climbing all over you. He's just building the fire higher and higher. When does it stop? 

And do you want it to stop? Because this feeling burns marvellously. 

His tongue licks towards your belly button and then your mound. “Wait!” You gasp and he raises his head. 

“I can stop if you want, but I promise you it will feel good.” 

You don't know if he's telling the truth, but you trust him completely. So you nod. “Don't stop.”

He uses his hands to raise your legs and place them over his shoulders and when he stares, you feel yourself shrinking with embarrassment. 

“So beautiful…” You hear him murmur before he leans in and you feel his tongue swiping a hot streak across your folds.

“Oh!” Throwing your head back, you immediately arch your back against his touch. “Oh, my!”

He stops for a moment and meets your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You almost plead. 

“Make all the sounds you want, Princess. Please.”

You're not quite sure what he means by that but you still agree. And then his tongue repeats the same movement and you smile. Dear Gods, this can't be true. His hand disappears beneath you and you feel his finger inside you touching a spot that makes you want to scream with pleasure. So you do. 

He mumbles against you and the vibration of his lips on your sensitive nub makes you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, Gods! Ace!”

Your hips buckle against his face involuntarily and you want to feel ashamed but you can't because it feels too good! His tongue is hot and slippery and he laps at you with such vigour that it makes you writhe beneath him. His fingers - yes, more than one - move inside and out with ease continually touching a spot that feels so, so good. 

“Oh, my! Oh, my!” You can't stop a string of curses from escaping your lips. The warmth builds up, spreading to your legs and toes, and to your belly, until suddenly it snaps! 

You see bright lights as your head falls back, moaning loudly and incessantly while you pant and scream his name. It feels good, it feels so good! 

Ace continues lapping at your core and it feels like it's very sensitive now, so you whine and he stops. “You did so well, Princess. You taste so good.” His lips are glistening and he looks dazed. You are smiling as you pant but you pull him to you, eager to taste what you’ve left on his lips. He gives you exactly what you want - lips, tongue, taste - and you mewl against him, lost in pleasure and dizziness from your previous orgasm. 

As you break apart you lock eyes with Ace, an exhilarating feeling coursing through you. “That was…” You laugh. 

“I know.” He says cheekily as he caresses your cheek. “You're so beautiful.”

You feel yourself flush again, he’s never spoken to you like this. He was always arrogant and insufferable. Acting as if watching over you was the most boring task he’d ever had to do. Yet, now it seems he’s ready to write you love poems. 

“What else can we do?” You touch him again, where his hair starts to disappear below his underwear. He clenches his jaw as your hand traces the shape of his cock. “Does that go… inside me?” You ask, biting your lip. It seems big. Will it fit? 

“It does. But that's for the wedding night, Princess.” He says, his tone sad. 

“What if I don't want to get married?” You frown. “I told you I don't want to go back. I shouldn’t have to marry some old lord I don't care about.” You hold his hand, entwining your fingers with his. “Maybe we can be together.”

He looks downcast as his forehead meets yours and lets out a deep sigh. “Don't tempt me, Princess.” He says, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I've been in love with you since we met. The constant fear of losing you to another man keeps me awake most nights. I cannot bear the thought of never being able to have you. So don't tempt me, please.” His fervour leaves you breathless. 

Love? 

You thought he abhorred you! You believed he only put up with you because it was his job. Nothing more. Love? 

Cupping his face in your hands, you stare deeply into his eyes. “Let's run away. You and me. Away from my father's kingdom, from duties, from everything. He will think we're dead, anyway!”

“No, Princess. I have a duty to my king and my kingdom. I cannot do it.” He says as your eyes fill with tears. “And you have a duty to your father as well. Don’t forget that.”

“Ace… Please…”

“No. I can't.” His eyes squeeze shut as he presses his forehead against yours once more. “Don't ask me this. Please.”

Torn between love and duty. And you wish he would simply choose love. You pull away from him, covering  your face as you shed more tears. 

Ace sighs and picks up your chemise, gently helping you dress even though you don’t look at him. Then he pulls you against his chest as he settles against a rock. “Sleep, Princess. I will keep watch.”

And you do. 

By morning, even the air feels bleaker. There is no more rain, but dark clouds hover above the sky. You can’t change his mind. He’s set to bring you back to the castle.

Back to your prison.

“My father will marry me off…” You whisper, feeling your face crackle with dried tears. Your clothes are stiff from caked mud and blood and you’re pretty sure your heart stayed behind in that dark cave. 

Ace’s eyes remain fixed on the road ahead, but you notice him swallowing a lump before he speaks. 

“It is your duty, Princess. You have yours, I have mine.” He sighs. “I never meant to burden you with my feelings. A knight is not worthy of a princess’s love.”

“Clearly you have not read the same novels as I have.” You scoff and your response elicits a small chuckle from him, your easy banter slowly returning to normal. 

Ace continues his slow walk and you follow, feeling as if you’re walking towards the gallows and every step brings your demise a bit closer. “Ace, please…” You beg once more. “Please…!”

Yet he does not stop.

You see him struggle as his face hardens and his eyes grow blurry, but he does not stop. And the noose tightens around your neck. 

-*-

You’re received with cheers and ovations. A joyous celebration for you and for your valiant knight. Ace is offered a promotion. Finally a way for him to leave your side, to stop nannying you as he always complained.

He does not accept it.

Your heart warms for a moment, though you find it very hard to fall back into a routine of entrapment when you were free, albeit for a few hours. 

Yet doom envelops you and the noose tightens and elevates you once your father makes the announcement. He has found you a husband. You’re to be married in a fortnight. 

Breath catches in your throat and it’s hard to seek air. But your eyes search and find his. A reflection of your own, you’re sure, for they seem pained and drained of life. Yet the moment passes and your father keeps telling you all about how delightfully rich and important your future husband is. 

And how you have a duty to him and to your kingdom, as their princess. It all comes down to duty. 

That awful word.

-*-

The guests are arriving and the groom has been presented to you just in the morning. He is not old or decrepit. In fact, he seems quite polite and is rather handsome. 

But he is not Ace.

And you realised that the warmth he made you feel, and the anger you felt when your late maid spoke of him with desire, were all because of one thing alone: love. You love him back. And he needs to know it before you leave.

Because you will not bring him with you. You cannot forget him, nor allow him to forget you if he is to remain forever by your side.

-*-

The day of the wedding dawns cold and grey, a reflection of your own thoughts. An array of maids dresses you in the best finery you possess and you are a beacon of elegance and beauty. Though the veil you wear over your face might as well be a shroud.

Ace stands in the shadows, his face masked and sombre. You have not spoken more than two words to each other since you returned. But you have to let him know how you feel before it’s too late.

“Everyone out, now.” Your voice is cold and commanding and the servants scurry and hurry out of your chambers. Ace is last, but you stop him. “Not you.”

He closes the door with a soft thud and turns towards you. Hands folded behind his back and eyes fixed somewhere behind you. As you approach, however, you notice him blinking and clenching his jaw and it takes nothing more than one touch of your soft fingers on his cheek for him to let his knightly countenance crumble into pieces. 

Holding your fingers to his lips, he kisses them with fervour. “Princess…”

“Ace…” Your whisper brings sorrow and despair, and he feels it. “I need to tell you something before the wedding, though it changes nothing. You were right. This is my duty, and you have yours, escaping it was nothing but a fleeting dream.”

A sigh parts your lips and he uses his knuckles to caress your cheek. 

“I love you.” Your eyes bore into his and your lips curl into a tight smile when a flicker of surprise crosses his eyes. “I didn’t know it was love and it took me a while to realise. But it’s true.” You take both his hands in yours and tears start to stream down your face because you can’t contain them any longer. 

“This is breaking me apart, but it is for the best. You will stay in the castle and accept the promotion you were offered upon our return.” Ignoring his protests you continue. “I will leave to fulfil my duty and live my new life.”

His head falls forward, shoulders slumping and a string of curses leaves his pursed lips. Though it pains you more than he can ever imagine, you force a smile, using your hand to lift his face so he can look at you. “You’ll always be in my heart. That will never change.”

Ace’s voice is barely a whisper, strained with emotion and effort to keep his tears at bay. “You’re asking me to stand and watch as you walk away? To stay here and live a life without your presence?”

“Yes.” You sob back.

“How can I do that?!” A heave rocks his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. “It’s like asking me to live without a beating heart.”

“I pray you forget me soon, Ace, because if you were to come with me, we would never be able to move on. And we would be miserable.”

“I am already miserable.”

Tears stream down both your faces, and you stand on your toes to kiss his tears away. Cupping your face with tenderness, Ace’s thumb crosses your lower lip and you nod, giving him all the permission he needs to lower his head to yours and take your warm lips with his.

This time, the kiss you share is desperate. He claims your mouth with his tongue, his arms embracing you and pulling you against him. You return the gesture with equal devotion, your tongue begging for more as you embrace and melt into each other, knowing you’ll have no other chance to do so. 

A rapid knock on the door breaks you apart. “Princess! It is time!”

Panting and wiping away tears, you answer with a shaky voice. “I’m almost ready.” Ace helps you fix your dress and veil, his eyes cast downward, sorrow filling them with shadows. 

With trembling hands you remove a ring from your finger. A ring your mother gave you on her deathbed. Setting it in his palm, you close his fingers around it and kiss them tenderly. “A memento to remember me by, my love.”

He doesn’t want to let you go and you don’t want to leave him. It would have been so much simpler if you had run away in that forest. No one would know. And you would have been happy.

Perhaps…

You drop his hands, take a deep breath and square your shoulders, opening the door and leaving your childhood home and your one true love. 

Ready to face a new life, an old duty, and an eternity of sorrow.

[suzannahnatters]

A hot take for you this morning:

The conviction has been growing upon me for several years that whole segments of Western media are steadily losing the ability to write for & about women. Female characters, female-led stories, and romantic literacy are all getting worse.

I grew up largely free of TV/movies, and for a long time prided myself on reading no book younger than 50 years old (yeah, I was insufferable). I've since sought to change that. That's why I believe I have the authority to say this: I see a really stark contrast between how it is now and how it used to be.

Compared to today, male authors like Shakespeare, Trollope, and even Tolkien had active empathy & respect for their female characters. They centred whole narratives around believable women. And they wrote unabashed romances.

That's largely gone now.

Compare western media to kdrama. Kdrama usually centres male protagonists in a way it doesn't centre female characters. But it also centres romance - HIGHLY sophisticated & detailed romance.

Watching kdrama cemented my suspicions, because it feels like the first storytelling I've found since the 1800s to treat romance with dignity and respect, & above all as something worthy of male attention. That is SO RARE these days.

I don't think something needs to get male attention in order to be worthy, but as any woman will tell you, if something DOESN'T get male attention, it's viewed as trivial and contemptible if its existence is noted at all.

It's true that more women than ever are writing stories about women, including romances. The problem is, this seems to have resulted in women's stories getting shoved into a ghetto; either YA or romance or the dreaded "chick flick"

As this genre divide developed between stories for men and stories for women, it seems like too many male storytellers took it as a license to care even less about writing for & about women.

Ahem, Popular Urban Fantasy Author Who Lists His Female Characters' Bust Size Without Fail.

Please note, I know many good and sincere men who want to do better. I see you and I'm so grateful for your efforts. But if you've mostly been reading "blokey" stories - and I know the appeal of stories about & for oneself - you haven't been given the tools you need.

The final straw seems to be the rise of vocal, self-consciously chauvinist online fandoms which rubbish media they see as being too feminine and loudly demand increasingly chauvinist storytelling. These people DO have an impact. Shows they bless get renewed season after season. Media they curse is lucky to survive. I mention no names. But we've all seen them shape public discourse.

What it all adds up to is this: if I want believable writing about women, in a lot of ways I'm better off reading a man from 1850 than a man from 2020. And that's pretty messed up.

How is this going to change? On a cultural level, I don't know. But I want to shout out to the fellow author who read my mixed review of his book, reached out to me for a detailed critique, and listened for an hour as I talked. You, sir, are one of the real ones.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Dog Days

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Request for @ross-ayase Thank you for your patience! It’s longer than I wanted it to be, but I also feel like it goes too fast over some parts. I hope you still enjoy it. There also may be more errors than usual because I’m too tired to edit right now, but I promise I’ll give it a closer look at a later date. Word Count: 6,523

Shinobu took one look at who had arrived before her to the Master’s mansion and suppressed the urge to groan as she gracefully knelt upon the vacant cushion beside her.

“Kochou!” The Hashira beside her grinned, “I was hoping you would be literally anyone else!”

“Likewise.” Shinobu replied, facing forward, same smile as always adorning her face.

The rivalry between Shinobu and (Y/n) had started all the way back when they were first training to become demon slayers. Something that still hasn’t changed at all even after all of these years later, finding themselves both at the highest rank a slayer could be bestowed with. At least the days when they used to brawl at the drop of a hat were over. Shinobu claimed she was much too mature to stoop to that level, (Y/n)’s level, anymore. Although she was usually the one to start any physical altercations in the past… but make no mistake, though their quarrels were less explosive, the way they spoke to each other could be like a fist fight all on its own.

Although they seemed to speak to each other in pleasant tones, if someone took the time to actually listen to what they were saying, they would turn tail and run as fast as they could to not get caught in the crossfire.

There was no time for them to really dig into each other this morning, as Kagaya arrived on Amane’s arm not long after Shinobu’s arrival and as much as the pair loved to bicker and attempt to one-up each other, they would never dare do so in front of the Master.

“(Y/n), Shinobu, thank you both for joining me this morning.” The Master spoke warmly, once his wife eased him down.

“Good morning, Oyakata-sama. We’re happy to be of service.” (Y/n) and Shinobu spoke in near perfect unison, both subtly glaring at the other as they bowed reverently.

The Master chuckled quietly. “You two are almost always in sync after being friends for so long. That is why I know you two will be perfect for this mission.”

Shinobu’s smile tightened and (Y/n)’s eye twitched slightly.

“This mission will be a very… odd one to say the least, but as long as you watch out for each other, I don’t think it will be a particularly difficult assignment, but I believe the fine tuned skills of a couple Hashira will sort out the trouble our lower ranks have been having in this area. I am asking you, (Y/n), Shinobu, to investigate the sudden disappearances of our slayers and destroy whatever demon or demons are responsible.”

***

“Are we there yet?” (Y/n) asked with a smirk, walking beside Shinobu down the rugged road.

“You know that we are not.” Shinobu sighed, doing her best to let the words drip off of her like water off a duck’s back. “Now if you could refrain from asking for the twelfth time in half an hour, it would be much appreciated. As far as I’m concerned the mission had already begun, so can you take this seriously please?”

An amused scoff left (Y/n)’s lips. “My name is Shinobu~ I’m a proper young lady now~ blah blah blah.” She poked Shinobu’s back with each consecutive ‘blah’.

“And my name is (Y/n), an insufferable girl who has failed at showing decorum since the day she was born~” Shinobu mimicked back, smacking (Y/n)’s hand away from her with a karate-chop-esque strike.

“I’m just poking fun at you, lighten up.” (Y/n) rubbed her hand. “You poke at Tomioka all the time.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it? What, you have a crush on him or something?”

Shinobu side-eyed (Y/n) before facing the road in front of them again, still walking ever closer to their destination. (Y/n) frowned at Shinobu’s silence and looked away, fists clenched. They were quiet the rest of the journey until they made it to the village.

“They have a lot of stray dogs around here…” (Y/n) commented as they entered the village.

“I was trying to ignore that fact, but yes, it is an unusual amount for a village this size.” Shinobu said, pulling her hand away from a dog who ventured close enough to sniff at her.

“Still don’t like cute, furry animals?” (Y/n) snickered, offering her own hand for the friendly stray to sniff before lightly scratching behind his ears.

“Don’t touch strange dogs, (Y/n), honestly…” Shinobu scoffed lightly, “you don’t know where its been. It could have fleas, mange, rabies… I said, stop that.” Shinobu pulled (Y/n) away from the dog by the back of the collar of her uniform and continued to walk through the village. “We have a mission to complete and I’m not wasting what little supplies I brought to patch up a dog bite.”

“Come on, he’s friendly! You’re as much of a killjoy as ever, you know that?”

“Excuse me, have you noticed anything odd about your village in the past few weeks?” Shinobu was already moving along with the mission, asking villagers about the goings on.

The influx of stray dogs was indeed a phenomenon that had only occurred within the last two weeks. Along with this, a dozen villagers had gone missing alongside the slayers who had been sent to the village before them, usually gone without a trace. There had been a few instances where they had found clothes identifiable as belonging to missing persons, but that was the only lead they had.

“So there’s definitely a demon around here who’s turning people into dogs, right?” (Y/n) said once they stopped at a little roadside vendor for an early dinner.

“We don’t know that.” Shinobu replied, after sipping her tea. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Hey, didn’t you get saddled with helping a bunch of spider people get back to normal? It’s totally feasible! You just don’t want to agree with me because you’re stubborn.”

“It’s too early in the investigation to be certain. Even if there is a demon blood art that can turn people into dogs, we shouldn’t approach thinking we know the whole situation. We don’t even know how many demons were dealing with yet, if we find one, whose to say it’ll have the power you are expecting it to have?”

(Y/n) stuck her tongue out and Shinobu and then groaned, she leaned back, bracing herself with her hands curling around the back edge of the bench she and Shinobu shared. “Okay, smarty pants.”

Shinobu subtly rolled her eyes and took another sip of her tea and it was quite for a few minutes as they watched the sun slowly sink beneath the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant orange and pink. Shinobu felt eyes on her and caught (Y/n)’s eye before she could completely turn her attention elsewhere.

“Yes?” Shinobu rose an eyebrow, finding the odd expression on (Y/n)’s face curious. She had never quite seen anything like that look before. Granted, she hadn’t seen (Y/n) in a couple months, which could feel like a lifetime in the quick-paced lives of demon slayers, Hashira being the busiest of all. Shinobu would not admit it, but there were often times she wondered how (Y/n) was doing, wondered if she should send a letter, but she never knew what to write, so she didn’t.

(Y/n) almost looked like she was gearing up to say something, but then seemed to change her mind at the last second, shaking her head.

“It’s nothing.” She finally shrugged.

“It doesn’t seem that way.” Shinobu scrutinized (Y/n)’s posture and expression in an attempt to decide what may have been going through her mind. “Usually you have no problem speaking your mind. A rather annoying habit of yours, actually.”

“Hypocrite.” (Y/n)’s lips turned upward in a small, almost nervous smile as she watched the sun sink below the distant mountains. “But maybe I’ll tell you after the mission.”

Shinobu kept her eyes to the side of (Y/n)’s head a few beats longer before facing forward again.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

***

They disposed of quite a few demons that night and the added challenge of it being a new moon left the forest extremely dark. Fortunately, that did little to hamper the progress the two Hashira were making, but as dawn approached and the longer reprieves between battles, they began to let their guard down.

“I believe we may be done here.” Shinobu said after taking another lap around the woods that surrounded the village and finding nothing.

“There’s no way.” (Y/n) shook her head. “None of those demons were particularly challenging. I don’t see why so many demon slayers and villagers would have disappeared. We still haven’t found one with a dog-related demon art yet either…”

Shinobu shook her head, “Will you let that theory go already?”

“Nope! I know I’m on to something. I can feel it in my bones.”

“You’ve come to me with broken bones on enough occasions that I doubt that ‘feeling in your bones’ is reliable.”

“Come on, just one more lap, please? Humor me just this once.”

Shinobu bit the inside of her cheek, then sighed quietly. “Fine, one more lap, but only because you said please and I’ve never heard you ask so politely.”

(Y/n) stuck her tongue out at Shinobu again and then started jogging around the path once more. Shinobu shook her head, but followed (Y/n) anyway. They maybe made it about three-fourths through the wide ring they were traveling when (Y/n) stopped so suddenly, Shinobu almost bumped into her.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered, looking at Shinobu over her shoulder.

Before Shinobu could answer, a whining sound sounded from somewhere off of the path and (Y/n) leapt over some brambles to go investigate.

“(Y/n), don’t rush in without a plan.” Shinobu warned, leaping after her with her sword drawn.

“Oh, poor guy…”

“What? What is… it.” Shinobu trailed off when she caught up to see what (Y/n) was crouching over.

Yet another stray, caught up in some brambles. It’s whining and struggling only seeming to make itself more tangled.

“Awww, hang on buddy. I’ll get you out of there.” (Y/n) soothed, getting right in the brambles with the trapped dog.

“(Y/n), be careful.” Shinobu warned, feeling more on edge when she saw the dog growl and snap at (Y/n)’s hands.

“It’s fine. She’s just a little scared.”

It took a little work, but (Y/n) managed to free the dog from the brambles, getting a little scratched up herself in the process.

“Shinobu, will you check her out? Make sure she’s okay?”

“I’m not a veterinarian.”

“Oh come on, how different is it really?”

“Quite. Different.”

“Shinobu.” (Y/n) glared at her.

“Fine, fine.”

But before Shinobu could join (Y/n) beside the dog, it suddenly bolted, tail between its legs.

“Well, it must be perfectly fine to be able to run off like that.” Shinobu said, brushing off her hands on her pants even though she had not gotten the chance to touch the dog.

“Maybe physically fine, but that dog seemed terrified.” (Y/n) stood up and brushed herself off, looking deeper into the forest. “I’m gonna go further, see if I find something.”

She hopped over the bramble bushes and jogged deeper into the forest. Shinobu suppressed the urge to groan and followed her.

“Shinobu, look at this.” (Y/n) was crouched to the ground, a hakamashita and complementary hakama draped over her arms. “It’s like what they said in the village, random clothes in the woods. I wonder if these were left here recently.”

“They don’t appear to have been worn down by the elements. I would wager they haven’t been left for very long at all.” Shinobu deduced.

“You’re correct. I can assure you that bundle is quite fresh.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu whipped their heads around, finding a bright beam of red light being directed at the both of them.

“You’ll both make such cute little doggies~”

“Shinobu, move!”

Before Shinobu could react, (Y/n) was already pushing her out of the way, taking the full blast of the beam and collapsing onto the forest floor in front of her. Shinobu got up quickly, narrowly avoiding another beam.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu cursed under her breath, her fellow Hashira was still laid out on the ground, writing in pain. She couldn’t afford to check on (Y/n)‘s condition at the moment, she needed to take down this demon first and she would be sure to make them suffer just as much as (Y/n) appeared to be.

“Ah! You’re a fast one, aren’t you? And such a scary look in your eyes!” The demon dodged each of Shinobu’s strikes, his tail wagging excitedly, annoyingly, Shinobu would add. “I’m doing you a favor, you’ll be so much happier, so carefree! You should feel honored that I want to give you a more simple life. I devour the humans I find unworthy. You look like you’d make a good dog person.”

“I’m more of a fish person, actually.” Shinobu tried to stab the demon again, but he dodged, back flipping away. “I can’t stand fur.”

“That so? A pity. But don’t you worry, you’ll forget all about your depressing human existence by the full moon and you’ll forget all about your silly little peculiarities.”

Shinobu dodged several more beams, trying to counter when she could, but it was fairly even on both sides. However, Shinobu did have one weapon that never failed her, the sun. If she could stall long enough, keep the demon within this clearing, he would burn to ash and scatter on the wind. Then she could focus on the dozens of people who had been transformed, she could make sure (Y/n) was going to be okay. She better be okay, because Shinobu had quite a few things to say to her after making such a self-sacrificing decision.

Dawn was quickly approaching after they already spent most of the night making rounds. Instead of taking a purely offensive approach, Shinobu began to defend the treeline to make sure the demon couldn’t slip away. The demon seemed to understand her plan and smiled wickedly.

“I’d keep my eye on your partner over there if I were you. The transformation process tends to leave people rather defenseless.”

Shinobu’s head snapped back towards (Y/n) on pure reflex and her grip on her nichirin blade tightened. Another demon was creeping towards the hunched bundle (Y/n) had become, hoping for an easy meal in the last moments before sunrise. Shinobu didn’t have to think twice before rushing in.

“I knew you’d make the right choice!” The dog-tailed demon laughed, springing into the dark woods and quickly out of sight as Shinobu’s blade found home in the much weaker demon’s chest.

The weaker demon spluttered, then stilled, the first beams of sunlight burning the body into nothing while Shinobu fell to her knees beside the lump of cloth that was once her rival, the person who pushed her away and spared her from having to share the same fate. The person who she still had so much left to compete over with, to argue with, to pop in on unexpectedly to torment when they were apart for too long, to tease, to talk, to eventually confess—

Shinobu shook her head and placed her hand on the center of the lump beneath the layers of haori and uniform.

“(Y/n)?” She cautiously called.

The lump beneath her palm stirred, and she pulled back, watching the bundle of fabric rise wiggle, a low growl came from the bundle as what was left beneath it struggled to free itself. Shinobu reached out again to help and another growl sounded as her hands came in contact.

“Calm down, I’m helping.” Shinobu assured, pulling the layers away, until the mid-sized Kishu dog could shake the rest off herself.

‘Oh gods…’ (Y/n) spun around on wobbly, unfamiliar paws, trying to get her bearings, trying not to panic at the new state of her body.

“Are you sincerely chasing your tail right now?” Shinobu asked, making (Y/n) turn to face her with a sharp bark of warning that if translated correctly would probably be the equivalent of ‘shut up’. “Can you still understand me?“

‘Do you really have to ask?’ An almost disbelieving snort left (Y/n)’s muzzle, the intelligent look in her eye being enough to answer Shinobu’s query.

“Okay, at least you have that much going for you. It’s unfortunate, I finally don’t have to listen to the nonsense you’re always spouting, but now I’m stuck with a fluffy-tailed mongrel.”

‘Hey!’ Another indignant bark and a little stomp of (Y/n)’s front paws was the best rebuttal she could give at the moment and Shinobu smirked despite the state of affairs they hand landed themselves in.

“Didn’t quite catch that, apologies.” A growl was the reply this time, and Shinobu chuckled. “Actually, this could be pretty fun. It’s too bad I have a responsibility to at least try to restore you to your former self. It wouldn’t do to have a Hashira who hasn’t the thumbs necessary to wield their sword.”

‘Oh, yeah? I’ll make you eat those words, just you wait!‘ (Y/n) huffed again and dug her snoot beneath her clothes and rustled around a bit, emerging once more with the hilt of her blade clasped firmly between her teeth. ‘Checkmate!’

“Put that down before you hurt yourself.” Shinobu reached out to take the sword, but (Y/n) was not making it easy for her, dragging the blade around Shinobu in several tight circles. “Drop it, mutt.” She ordered, smiling tightly.

‘As if I’d start taking orders from you.’ If dogs could roll their eyes, (Y/n) would have found a way, but a huff of air left her muzzle before she started to trot off towards the village, hilt still in her jaws. ‘This is kinda heavy though, actually…’

“Where do you think you’re going, the mansion is that way.” Shinobu tilted her head in the opposite direction as she gathered the rest of (Y/n)’s belongings.

‘I’m not the only dog-person here that needs a safe place to sleep.’

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder briefly before continuing to trot over to the village, sword dragging against the ground. If her swordsmith could see what she was doing, they’d probably have a heart attack. Shinobu released a long exhale from her nose then followed after her.

It soon became clear to Shinobu what (Y/n) was thinking about when she went back into the village. Slowly, she amassed a small fleet of stray dogs. Shinobu surmised through observation that these dogs must have been human once as well, as (Y/n) seemed to converse with them. Those that were pure stray dogs would, well, act like dogs. Those that seemed to have been human followed (Y/n) throughout the village and helped her locate more unfortunate souls.

Finally, (Y/n) trotted back up to Shinobu with the pack and looked up at her expectantly. Shinobu would have liked to wait on rounding up the civilian and slayer victims until after she had the cure prepared, but it would seem (Y/n) was expecting her to house all of these humans turned canine. She knew it was the right thing to do, some of them had been condemned to the outdoors since the moon had been waning. That didn’t stop Shinobu from dreading this sudden influx of furry patients, however.

“All right,” Shinobu sighed, “Let’s go…” she turned to start walking back home, but she heard (Y/n) grunt beside her, now struggling to continue dragging her sword around. Shinobu smirked. “Done being unreasonable?”

‘Oh, shut it.’ (Y/n) dropped the sword at Shinobu’s feet with a huff and Shinobu knelt down to pick it up, realizing too late how slimy the hilt was. Her whole body shivered with disgust and (Y/n) barked a laugh before scampering forward to take the lead.

“Someone is going to be sleeping in the garden shed tonight.” Shinobu smiled threateningly, wiping her hand off on (Y/n)’s haori still bundled within her arms.

***

Shinobu didn’t really make (Y/n) sleep in the shed, in fact, they ended up spending countless hours together in the lab. Shinobu had not expected finding a cure to be so difficult. She expected to have to adjust the formula she came up with for the slayers on Natagumo Mountain, but no matter how many time she recalculated, the drug just would not take effect.

As they days stretched on, she only got more anxious, though she did her best not to let it show. If what the demon said was true, they were running out of time before the transformation was permanent. Some of the victims who had been transformed earlier in the month sometimes got confused, more canine than human in behavior. Looking up at the night sky, a waxing gibbous hung high over Shinobu’s head, mocking her. In less than a week, the full moon would arrive, and the human minds trapped within their canine vessels would be lost.

There were very few things that made Shinobu angrier than a problem that she could not solve on her own. Medicine, science, that was her bread and butter. She knew logically that she wasn’t infallible, she couldn’t solve every problem, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating.

She dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her temples, then pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. She had come out onto the engawa after another failed attempt to reverse the demon art’s effects on (Y/n) after hours of work. Now that she was outside, the moon only reminded her of how little time remained. She could just about scream.

But then a wet snoot swiped against her ear, making her cringe and bat away her visitor.

“(Y/n), that’s foul.” Shinobu glared at the Hashira turned hound now sitting beside her.

‘If you really want to be justifiably horrified, I could have licked you instead.’ (Y/n) chuffed at Shinobu’s displeasure then looked at her expectantly. Shinobu felt something uncomfortably heavy in her chest whilst looking at her.

“I suppose this is your way of telling me my break is over?” She tried to sound annoyed, but her tone sounded more pathetic to her own ears.

(Y/n) snorted and shook her head. ‘I hate that boring-ass lab’.

“Well, I must get back to the drawing board anyway.” Shinobu stood and turned to walk back inside, but a tugging on her haori made her pause. She turned around to reprimand (Y/n) but she had already leapt off of the engawa, circling a patch of dirt as if wanting Shinobu to come closer. Shinobu decided to humor her and hopped down to the ground herself, watching (Y/n) pick up a stick between her teeth.

“You don’t want me to throw that for you, do you?” Shinobu asked, half-joking, half worried that (Y/n) was starting to lose herself as well, but thankfully (Y/n) gave her an incredulous glare before proceeding to use the stick to sloppily draw in the dirt.

Shinobu scrutinized the crudely drawn blob, trying her best to decipher its meaning. “(Y/n), when you retire, art may not be a good hobby for you.”

‘You try drawing without hands!’ (Y/n) growled and stomped her paw against the dirt and then tried to make her doodle look more clear and somehow, Shinobu thought it was reminiscent of a certain demon that she very much wanted to pump full of poison.

“The dog demon? What about him?”

‘We go find him and fuck him up!’ (Y/n) mimicked searching and sniffing around, sneaking up on her messy drawing and then pouncing and digging at it with a growl until there was nothing left. She then looked up at Shinobu expectantly.

“You want to destroy him. As do I, but he could be anywhere by now. I can’t imagine he stuck around the village after all of that.” Shinobu knelt down in front of (Y/n). “You don’t need to worry, I’m not going to rest until I have the proper formula. You will be human again, I promise.”

‘Come on, Kochou. This is our best shot. You must know that by now.’ (Y/n) whined and shook her head. She pounced on the disturbed dirt again, looking up at Shinobu with a fire of determination in her eyes.

“We’re running out of time…” Shinobu tried her best to keep her voice even. “We can’t go out on some wild goose chase. Reworking the formula is the only thing we can do.”

A sharp bark left (Y/n), startling Shinobu, ‘We can do this! Since when have you ever been known to shy away when things get tough?’ She pounced on the dirt again and then sprinted to the mansion fence before turning back to Shinobu and barking again. ‘Let’s go, Kochou! I’d leave you behind, but in this state, I could really use the backup.’

Shinobu’s hands tightened into fists beneath the sleeves of her haori. “Stubborn fool.” She mumbled under her breath. She briefly looked behind her in the direction of the the lab, an uncertain feeling burying itself in her brain in a place where she just couldn’t shake it loose. Then she looked back to (Y/n), fur almost glowing under the moon. Even in this form, Shinobu could see the same steadfast determination that she had for every obstacle in front of her.

Shinobu felt a pulse of annoyance and anger. (Y/n) was the one who was about to lose everything, and here she was stalling and feeling sorry for herself. (Y/n) deserved to make the final call and Shinobu would do all she could to help her. And in the end, if it came to it, Shinobu would take care of that damn dog until her last breath. She would give her the best life a mutt could ever hope for. But now was not the time to start planning for that future outcome. She’d much rather have (Y/n) telling her stupid jokes, maybe finally work up the courage to hold her hand, grin when (Y/n) would get flustered by the sudden action and tease her relentlessly over getting so nervous from a simple hand hold. That’s what Shinobu wanted, and she’d be damned if she let that opportunity slip away from her for the last time.

“Alright then,” Shinobu took a calming breath, fingers grazing over the hilt of her blade, “We have less than a week to find him. Let’s hope that nose of yours can sniff out that vermin quickly.”

‘That’s what I’m talking about!’ (Y/n) barked excitedly, running circles around Shinobu once she had opened the gate. ‘Let’s get the bastard!’

***

They began in the village where everything went wrong and from there, (Y/n) picked up a scent. It was faint, but it was a start. For days (Y/n) and Shinobu were on the road, following the scent. Resting was a little tricky, Wisteria Houses weren’t always available and regular civilian lodging usually didn’t allow animals and (Y/n) was too big to smuggle in, so they would find places to sleep outside during the day. Sometimes Shinobu would fall asleep with her head on (Y/n)’s side, waking up disoriented and grossed out by the fur clinging to her clothes and hair while (Y/n) made the closest noise she could to a snicker and wagged her tail.

Shinobu would glare at her and chuck the nearest stick she could find into the woods, smirking when (Y/n) couldn’t help but go get it and bring it back to her with a strange mix between resentment and hopefulness that Shinobu would throw it again. After a couple more tosses, Shinobu would finally relent, satisfied that she had gotten her revenge.

They would then continue on, the scent getting stronger the further they traveled until finally on the last day, (Y/n) found herself surrounded by the scent. The demon’s new stomping grounds.

‘This is it!’ She barked and bounced back and forth, alerting Shinobu with her little dance.

“Is this it?” Shinobu felt hope rise within her as she took in the sea beyond the cliff they had found themselves near. Somewhere within this jagged landscape, the demon was laying low until sunset. Tonight, on the last possible night, Shinobu would end that demon and hear (Y/n)’s voice once more, to see her smile. Everything will be back to the way it was supposed to be.

Easier said than done.

When night fell, the demon wasn’t hard to find, they just needed to follow the scent and the trail of clumsy-looking dogs left in his wake. He wasn’t the same, however. After their last encounter about fifteen days ago, he had been devouring more humans than he had been transforming. He had anticipated the occurrence of this reunion and did his best to prepare for this moment. It was only by the carelessness of one of his demon companions that he managed to escape dawn’s first light.

“We meet again!” He said with a false chipper tone, scratching behind the ears of a dog struggling and whining against his hold. “Have you come to join your friend so you can be carefree and frolic together for the rest of your days?”

“No, not quite.” Shinobu smiled tightly, her thumb slowly dragging the first inch of her blade out of its sheath.

The demon frowned, his tail unmoving, “I didn’t think so. So unfortunate that you would rather fight against pure happiness!” He released the dog, who promptly scrambled away and aimed a beam of swirling red power at Shinobu.

Shinobu dodged the beam easily, fully prepared for the demon’s speed this time around. (Y/n) barked, sprinting through the woods to try to keep up with the battle, even though Shinobu had told her to stay back before the battle had even begun. As if (Y/n) was going to leave her without support, even if she was in the form of a dog.

The battle went on most of the night, slowly chipping away at Shinobu’s stamina and both her and the demon’s patience.

“Why won’t you just hold still!” He growled. “It’ll only take a minute! You’ll be so much happier! Would you really rather die? Leave your friend to wander through this world alone?”

“The only one who is going to die tonight, is you.” Shinobu swore, her sword clanking and scraping against the demon’s claws, trying to nick his skin just even once.

There was an orange glow bleeding into the horizon, dawn was approaching, highlighting the churning ocean below. Shinobu was not going to let him get away this time. She couldn’t. Even when she found herself dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, she did not waiver. Not even when her wrists had been trapped in the demon’s hands after a failed strike, even when the demon grinned wickedly at her, pushing her towards the edge of the cliff, the fire in her eyes did not leave her.

Guessing the demon’s intent, she dropped her sword and and grabbed the demon’s clothes. If she was going over the edge, so was he. The sun would rise as they fell, the demon would turn to dust before they hit the water. What happened after… well, as long as (Y/n) and the others were back to normal, then Shinobu thought the sacrifice would be worth it.

‘I don’t think so!’ With a mighty growl, (Y/n) launched into the fray, clamping sharp teeth into the back of the demon’s calf, ripping and tearing at the muscle, making the demon shout and push Shinobu to the ground to attempt to rip (Y/n) away from his leg, he kicked and shoved and punched, but (Y/n) kept a firm grip on the demon, until the cliff’s edge crumbled away beneath them.

“No!” Shinobu reached over the ledge in an attempt to grab (Y/n), but it was already too late, she watched in horror as the demon burned to ash and scattered in the wind, while (Y/n) disappeared in the surf.

(Y/n) kept her eyes to the sky as long as she could, watching Shinobu become nothing more than a blot of color on the cliff high above. A whine clawed out of her throat. Was this really it? ‘I should have told her how I really felt.’

Everything went black before she even hit the water.

Shinobu scaled down the cliff as fast as she could, not ready to accept the reality of what she saw. (Y/n) was too stubborn, too annoyingly resilient. There was no way she was going to lose her. Not when she had so much she wanted to tell her.

“(Y/n)!” She yelled over the sound of waves crashing over the rocky shore. “(Y/n), where are you?”

Finally, something caught her eye in the surf, a bundle of fur floating up and down in the waves. Shinobu quickly waded out to her knees, stumbling on the slippery rocks beneath her feet. She wrapped her arms around the motionless lump and dragged it back to shore, collapsing right on the edge where the waves would still lap at her feet as she laid on the sandy rocks, her face buried in the wet, matted fur of one of the most special people in her life.

“Why did you have to do that, you idiot?” Shinobu hissed, breaths coming quick and shallow. “You told me once that I’d never be able to be rid of you. You swore…”

Shinobu’s eyes stung with sea salt and tears, shutting them tightly as she hugged (Y/n) closer. “There’s so much I didn’t get to tell you, so much I wanted to hear from you,” Her voice cracked, “Something was wrong, why didn’t you just tell me what was on your mind that day? Why didn’t I pry further? You promised you’d tell me, so keep your damn promise and wake up!”

As she weeped, she failed to notice the fur melt away from between her clenched fists, how the body expanded and morphed beneath her tear-stained face. Only after the body beneath her blinked awake and rose a hand to clutch Shinobu’s haori, did her eyes open, harboring a manic look within.

(Y/n) managed a tired grin though she looked like she nearly drowned. With as much strength as she could muster, she brought her hand to Shinobu’s cheek, clumsily brushing her chilled and clammy fingers against the tear-stained skin.

“H-hey…” Her vocal chords didn’t feel exactly right yet, but it was music to Shinobu’s ears. She brought her own hand up, keeping (Y/n)’s hand pressed to her cheek.

“You…” a watery chuckle escaped her lips, “you damn fool, why did you do that?”

“What?” (Y/n) spoke hoarsely, “And let you have all the glory? I don’t think so. I always feel like I’m trying to catch up to you as it stands. Any opportunity I can find to show you I’m just as good as you is one I can’t pass up on.”

“And what an ineffective way to show it. You could have not been less graceful if you tried.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) coughed and Shinobu quickly helped her sit up, wrapping her shivering body in her haori and pulling (Y/n)’s head to her chest, and hugging her close in an attempt to give her some warmth.

“Don’t get so excited, you’re in bad shape. In fact, just focus on breathing, alright? That’s all I want from you right now.”

“But there’s something I gotta say first.”

“It can wait.”

“It’s been held off long enough.” She insisted. “I made a promise and I don’t want to wait another minute to tell you so…” She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat, “All the years we spent brawling, competing, goading… I wouldn’t trade any of that for anything. You’re presence has always been my safety blanket, my constant. You’re the most important person in my life and I love you.” (Y/n) sighed, the tail-end of the breath coming out as a chuckle. “Can’t believe how easy that was to finally say—“

Shinobu squeezed (Y/n)’s cheeks between the fingers of one hand with such force that (Y/n) could feel Shinobu’s fingers against her teeth, the muscle and skin of her cheeks being the thin barrier between them. Suddenly her back was against the rocky sand again, Shinobu hovering over her almost menacingly.

“Oh you love me, do you Miss Gallantry? What a relief to hear, truly.” And truthfully, Shinobu was relieved, elated even, but the aura she was emitting shook (Y/n) to her very core. “The one to save me not once, but twice is also the first to say ‘I love you’? Are you trying to outdo me, (Y/n)?”

“I-it’s not a competition!” (Y/n) sputtered, unable to look away from Shinobu’s intense stare as the grip on her face persisted.

“Everything has always been a competition of sorts between us, (Y/n),” Shinobu’s face drew closer, “and I’m not going to let you leave me behind. My comeback starts now.”

Shinobu’s lips met hers in a searing, salty kiss, and a rather thorough one at that. When she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

“I love you more.” Shinobu smugly declared. “Even though you currently smell like wet dog.”

“I do not!”

“Oh, you definitely do. It’s rather disturbing. I hope it’s not permanent.”

“You don’t exactly smell like flowers right now either!” (Y/n) pouted, wrapping her arms around Shinobu so she could bring her closer and rub her wet, tangled hair against Shinobu’s clothes, making Shinobu gasp and try to push her away.

They bickered, bantered, laughed and kissed, laying side by side on the ocean shore as the sun creeped further into the sky, bathing them in a warm glow. After a few days rest at the nearest Wisteria House, the pair finally returned to the Butterfly Mansion, finding all manner of gifts left at the mansion gate.

As Aoi would later explain, they were gifts of gratitude from the villagers once affected by the troublesome spell. The girls were surprised to learn that the two Hashira were finally together. Not so much surprised by the fact that they enjoyed each other’s company that much, but surprised that they finally admitted it out loud to each other.

But what maybe surprised the Butterfly Mansion residents more than the admission of love was how the competitions never subsided. It became a lot more lively around the mansion, especially if Tanjirou and the gang were hanging around. Seeing the genuine smile light up Shinobu’s face whenever (Y/n) was with her was contagious.

“Here girl, we’re going to be late. I’m not going to let you sabotage my perfect date.” Shinobu whistled, patting her thighs as (Y/n) slipped on her shoes.

“Don’t talk to me like a dog!” She couldn’t stop the smirk that worked its way into her lips as she joined Shinobu at her side. “Besides, why would I stall? It’s going to be impossible for you to one up the last outing I planned.”

Shinobu lightly ran her fingers down the side of (Y/n)’s face, smiling when she caught wind of a couple butterflies fluttering in (Y/n)’s stomach at the gentle touch. “I wouldn’t count me out just yet.”

[not-goldy]

I ain't gonna lie. For the first time I been thinking about Jikook locked away isolated together in the middle of nowhere all day every day serving and now seeing how they can't stop bickering. I really hope they haven't gotten in there and started cause it's way stressful in there, then it is in a cozy camper in the peaceful woods, that had them bickering in 5 minutes of arriving. I been thinking about that all day. I also was thinking about JK saying he wants to do this after military for years with Jimin and I am really hoping Military doesn't break that plan and hinder it in any way when they come out. I hope they come out the same. They'll be different, but I hope also the same. I am also hoping that pent up tension they had, was completely out of their system before they enlisted. Like got everything off their chest. I mean as soon as they got a break, they just kinda went their separate ways tho riding with other people. Not saying that's bad or anything since they were going back home together, but dang, they really push the hell out of each other's buttons for attention. They been doing this for years and know their dynamic better than we do tho and for all we know this is how they've always been in private, but what we were seeing of them in OT7 was more contained, edited and watered down and subdued because of the Hyungs around them keeping them in check. No wonder RM was ready to fight the staff for putting him with Jikook. For the first time, I get it RM, I feel you man. I feel for all their Hyungs, cause they're both totally unhinged and wild as hell. lol Gotta love them.

Bickering? Sorry I'm not gonna read that.

When Yoonmin "bicker" its cute cos they giving old married couples vibe

When Kook rough handles Jin its a match made in heaven. When he stresses Namjoon out its a boy crush.

But when Jikook "bicker and rough house" it's weird and unheard of right?? Even though they are literally the same person's in those other dynamics.

We been here before several times and yall are starting to get on my nerves yall remember when jimin and Kook were drunk playing soccer or football and he shoved Jimin so hard I nearly passed out seeing that??

Or when Jimin injured his leg after breaking Jungkook's mosquito net and falling as he was being chased off by Jungkook???

This is them. They not doing nothing we haven't seen or heard them do before.

Jimin asks him to carry a heavy table and he goes carry it Jimimshi you're strong you got this.

I don't think they both would do this or want to do this if they felt they had to be anything BUT THEMSELVES.

If their interaction makes you uncomfortable to watch perhaps it should be a sign to you that you've over romanticed them.

Of course this is THEM like what ain't you understanding 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

THIS IS JIKOOK TOOOOO AH

Remember when we talked about what we expected from the show and yall asked me and I said I want to know what Jikook's idea of entertainment is????

This is them curating a show for you - a show they think showcases their dynamic sells their chemistry and is entertaining- so to hear you say all this as if they were sneak filmed and unaware of their environment or how they coming across to people watching them is difficult to read through.

Like I said they owe us nothing and this is nothing they themselves haven't said to us that they do behind cams. It's just the cameras don't follow them well into those private lives you talk about even though they wish they could follow them and capture that moment.

You are the same people who would have gone feral if Jimin eating out Jungkook's neck was caught on camera but imagine how annoying it would be if JK solos also came on here complaining that was abusive and bullying for him biting Kooks neck like that.

Yall are becoming insufferable stop.

Jimin done told us all about Jungkook whooping him spanking him scolding him manhandling him remember when he said JK whoops him and JK said don't say stuff like that....

However you feel about this part of their dynamic it seems they both enjoy it.

And hybe pays attention to the metrics it saw how engaged sparked each time they shared those glimpses into their private life each time we discussed it raved over it and they know it's something we like to see.

Stop making this something it's not cos yall sounding like delulu solos at this point like what really did you think was going to happen?? Tell me your ridiculous expectations of two closeted queer men and I'll tell you just how delusional you are.

People call them a bunch of smoking vaping alcoholics who chase women up and down the clubs like they collecting Pokémons

If they not gonna show them smoking vaping getting drunk to a stupor chasing and hitting on boys and girls fucking random strangers down the street talking shit bout army and all the people they keeping it on their chest for- what the fuck makes you think they will out themselves like that on their show???

Yall keep reading negative meanings into their relationship and interactions and yet they keep telling and showing yall they want to be together, they enjoy eachother's company and want to do the things yall thing they hate or that is hurting one of them.

Jimin is not afraid to establish boundaries or cut toxic people off and out of his life. If he felt JK was one he knows what to do. He is one to call JK out for not returning texts and calls, for not wishing members a happy birthday for speaking rudely to members for going out to club during Pandemic.

Yes he's manhandling Jimin and yet Jimin will chose to go to the moon to the desert to military

Certain parts of their "private lives" have been censored and will always be censored

Military won't change their plans cos how else would they explain their relationship if not through content

Like yall get that they coming up with these shows to justify why they gotta be together right????

Like yall get that if it's not because they "work" together they SHOULDN'T BE AROUND EACH OTHER ALL THE TIME RIGHT????

THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE LIVING SINGLE LIVES INDEPENDENT LIVES IN SEPERATE HOMES DOING SEPERATE THINGS BECAUSE FOR ALL INTENT AND PURPOSES THEY ARE STRAIGHT

At least to the public eye.

THATS WHAT PEOPLE WHO AREN'T GAY IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH EACHOTHER ARE SUPPOSED TO DO.

AND BELIEVE IT OR NOT THATS WHAT THEY WANT YOU, THE MEDIA AND THE GOVERNMENT TO BELIEVE🙂

UNTILL THEY ARE OUT THEY WILL ALWAYS GIVE PERFORMATIVE HETERSEXUALITY

AND UNTILL ONE OF THEM TRANSITIONS AS A TRANS WOMAN THEY WILL ALWAYS ACT LIKE THE BOYS THAT THEY ARE

[writingdisposal]

Vox is soooo fucking hot dude

Vox as a regular romantic interest is pretty bad already, but as a yandere? He is insufferable. Of course, he will keep an eye on you wherever you go, even before you really meet him. I don't think Vox would use his powers to achieve his goal of pursuing you. It seems more that he would use it as a "last-didge" effort to secure you, but for that to occur Vox would have to be incompetent. He is anything but that.

You will fall for his charisma, his smooth voice that is so addicting to listen to, especially when he compliments you so well every chance he gets. Vox will make sure, whatever you see of him is nothing, but absolute perfection. Any show you watch starring him will be subtly be about how good of a partner he would be. A cook show where Vox creates your favourite meals. Another show talking about famous celebrities' relationships where Vox occasionally sprinkles in a "I don't know about you folks, but I can't imagine doing something like that!" when the relationship has some sort of drama to it.

I also imagine he would force some sort of meeting, assuming there is zero connection he and the other Vees have to you. Maybe he will make some low-life try robbing you and the 'oh-so' charming TV host Hell can't get enough of is there to save you. Maybe he just 'randomly' finds you sleeping in some alleyway, down on your luck, and he graciously offers you a job at his company. Or maybe he does an interview on Hell's population to see what their opinion is on the newest Voxtech.

Either way this man will find a way and have you fall for him. For the first few months he will even act the part of a loving and supportive partner. Over time though, Vox will change.

As usual Vox was monitoring the viewing charts as well as the money generated from the shows. Even though he was focused, he heard the elevator bringing someone up. No need to look, Vox knew who wanted to visit. "Hello babe," he said, still tapping away on the keyboard, "missed me that much, heh?" Giggling you hugged him from behind, "I can't hide anything from you, can I?" "No, you can't," Vox turned to you, kissing up your arm, "Mind helping me out a little here? I'm really tensed up and need some relaxing." You blush, pushing him back a little.

You wanted to tell him no, but he pulled you back with enough force to make you fall on his chair. He kissed your cheek. "Come on sweetheart, I've always been so good to you," Vox reminded you, static echoes scratchng his voice, "You should be more loving, you know." He was right. He was always so sweet to you and its time to repay the kindness. Even though it doesn't feel right, you will give in. You always will until it feels normal.

Once he knows you won't leave anymore, Vox will have outbursts in front of you. And because you are so used to his hot and cold attitude, you will find a weird mix of fear and attractiveness in his screams. Especially outbursts involving Alastor will be scary. Sometimes Vox forgets the position he is in and get rough with you. Of course, in instances like these he will apologise afterwards, but that might be the only times where the picture had so carefully painted crumbles.

If you ever decide to leave, Vox will know and put measurements to prevent it. It will be relatively successful, but once you're gone, Vox uses every available resource to secure you back. He will call everything just regular quarrel between lovers. The only sanctuary you might find is in the Hazbin Hotel, but this will lead to a smear campaign by Vox, so your stay is going to be questioned frequently.

Your chances of getting away from Vox are low and he will make sure, you realise he will forever be the better option in this godforsaken place, so be sweet and go to him willingly before he forces you to go.

[ssentimentals]

jeonghan + teasing him

prompt: 'you're lucky that you are cute' + 'can you feel what you're doing to me?' (this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here)

warning: nsfw, groping each other in public

you knew it was a bad from the start but jeonghan is actually insufferable, so all in all it is his fault. yes, it's his fault for teasing you the whole day and blinking up at you innocently when you groan at him, needing his hands, his lips, anything - all over your body. it's his fault for thinking you won't bite back, for not considering that you can pay him back in the exactly same way. so, as far as you're concerned - jeonghan is at fault. for everything.

his skin is a bit cold to the touch and you warm it up, gently massaging his thigh, grinning at the way he subtly tries to get away from your touch by moving his leg to the side. and at first you want to let him be, because you're in cafe and all boys are around- but then you remember him pressing you to the wall, his lips abusing yours, while his hands worshipped your sides. you remember him slanting a knee between your thighs, letting you grind on it and then pulling off with a haughty smirk, telling you that it's time to go and that he doesn't want to be late. you remember a wet spot on your underwear and suddenly there's no fucking way you let him be.

'do you guys wanna go watch a movie after this?' you ask, leaning closer on the table, smiling. your right hand plays with a straw of your milkshake and left hand continues its journey upward jeonghan's thigh. your nails don't dig painfully but instead scratch lightly, evoking goosebumps on his skin. 'i can't remember last time we all went out for a movie.'

'you are right!' seungkwan supports you, immediately pulling conversation to the direction of movies. 'what should we watch? there is-'

you tune them out but don't look away, grinning quietly at jeonghan's obvious discomfort. he also takes part in the conversation, tries to act natural, but when your hand settles on the zipper, he stills. got ya. thank god for how loud all of his friends are, the tell-tale sound of zipper being pulled down goes completely unheard as everyone comments on what's currenly airing. you are not sure how far you're about to go, but jeonghan is not stopping you in any way; yes, he tries to shy away from the touch but he's not grabbing your wrist, he's not physically stopping you although he can do so easily; you take it all for a sign to keep going. 'no horror movies,' jeonghan interjects, raising up a little and sitting more comfortably. 'let's do comedy this time.'

'comedy movies are shitty usually though,' minghao notes, scrolling through his phone.

no one notices anything different, no one pays you two no mind and you grip jeonghan's shaft through his underwear, barely keeping smile off your face when he subtly flexes his muscles, straightening up. his right hand also goes down and it may look like you're just holding hands under the table, but in reality his hand sneaks and rests right between your thighs, tapping once, twice - until you get the signal and slightly widen them, letting him slot a hand in between. jeonghan is only half-hard, but his dick twitches in interest when you start rubbing it, applying just the right amount of pressure, just the way he likes it. jeonghan also doesn't sit still, his hand moves pointedly to your heat and it makes you want to gasp even if you're wearing pants. the material is very thin though and you lean a bit closer, biting your lower lip as your boyfriend steadily increases the pressure. jeonghan moves just a little, when you start fondling his sac, his member growing stiffer and stiffer by each passing minute.

'what do you think about this one?' seungkwan suddenly asks, turning his phone screen towards you. 'aren't you a fan of this actor?'

'oh, um, i-'

'she's my fan, kwannie,' jeonghan interrupts, draping himself all over you. 'but show me the actor again?'

you gulp. concentrate. jeonghan is working in order for everything you're doing to go unnoticed, but fuck if you're not feeling heated. his dick is fully hard now and you slip your hand inside his underwear, hearing his breathing hitch. seungkwan starts loudly complaining about jeonghan being too lovey-dovey right up his face, but you can't hear anything other than the sound of your breathing as you smear bit of precum down his head, his thighs flexing in response and brushing against yours. his fingers keep up with their pressure, sliding up and down, making you clench your teeth in frustration.

'can you feel what you're doing to me?' he whispers hotly in your ear, quietly enough only for you to hear. 'how hard i am?'

you nod, trying your hardest not to shiver and look at him. instead, you stubbornly stare at whatever minghao is showing on his phone, keeping your facial expression neutral. there's nothing you want more than to turn around and kiss that smirk off jeonghan's face, so when he grips your wrist in a firm but gentle 'stop', you quiver, knowing exactly what it means. 'i need to get back home,' jeonghan announces, coming up with some excuse that has minghao and joshua staring at you two suspiciously.

'y-yeah, we need to go home,' you echo, gripping your thighs together to ease the pressure.

jeonghan tucks himself back into the jeans and tugs his oversized t-shirt down, hiding his boner from privy eyes. 'but we'll come back for the movie!'

you want to argue because what the fuck, there'll be no movie until you get him inside you but jeonghan only grabs you to his side and waltz you both out of the cafe, ignoring ravenous laughter than followed. 'you're lucky that you are cute,' jeonghan mutters, pushing you insistently towards his car. 'because your punishment won't be that hard.'

'because you're also dying to fuck me?' you question, toying with the seatbelt. 'aren't you?'

jeonghan sends you a murderous glare. 'don't push it, cutie. be smart.'

you grin but don't say a thing as he drives you both home, knowing that this time you got him good.

a/n: this is what happens when i don't feel like writing a full on smut :/ hopefully it's still ok for the anon who requested it! - nini

tagging @prpldahy

[leclsrc]

hi auds!! it's my birthday today ;) i never send reqs i know you get a whole ton of them but if you ever got around to this- i think the f1 fic world has a very worrying lack of aus. so could i get a band!charles au drabble where he writes a song about reader and she hears it on the radio? any song you like. reader could be driver or something or connected to f1 if thats cool !!! thank you sm!! i love you

knee socks – cl16

There’s a certain inevitability that comes with having sex with a misaligned, conceited lead guitarist of a band. You aren’t aware of this fact until it hits you in-between your brows with the force of an 18-wheeler truck, at 8AM, through the radio in your car.

genre: drabble... lots of smutty allusions

auds here... happy birthday anon, one month and then some later! to be completely honest i almost deleted this... but through some twist of fate, it was the only thing i could bully into completion lol (aside frm long form fics that i'm still working on) this is 1000% for u and i hope u accept it as a belated bday gift :) i agree btw! id love to see more au fics but it is still nice reading the canon compliant type ones hahah. also the song in this and its and title is of course from this

It was surprising enough to hear an announcement of a new single by The Incident, one that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere, sans promotion. The morning BBC show clobbered the song with theories before finally letting the drawled-out, sticky guitar filter through and into your car. That in itself was odd, sure. Maybe shocking a little. But you leaned into the leather seat and remained quiet.

When you were fifteen, you were convinced the lyrics to Hall & Oates’ “Rich Girl” pinned up perfectly to your (insufferable) personality of the time. Raised in a big family and working in a career of refined prestige, your budding skill and already-cemented name in the modeling industry were just two small indicators of your parents’ massive wealth. Of course, neither Hall nor Oates were actually sitting and writing songs and singing about you—you just found it made sense in one way or another.

That was three years before you met Charles three years ago, at a pub in Soho. His band had only just spilled out of the confines of Soundcloud and seedy managers; they’d broken five million monthly listeners and the throng of people were there to watch them live. You were at the pub for a pint with another friend and left him with your number, a slip of paper tinged with beer; he fished out the nearest surface you could write on from a nearby bowl. Do I Wanna Know? it read in rushed cursive. It was a song request that went unfulfilled.

Rumors flew in your circle. Your father soured at the idea of you seeing somebody he wasn’t actively doing business with, but he failed to realize how limited your dating pool would be if you followed his wishes. Your interactions with the Formula One men he sponsored or worked with, however few and far between, were rancid and impolite. The drivers wore expensive brands, ones that didn’t even fall familiar on people’s ears, but refused to tip beyond three pounds. It came as both a shock and no surprise that the nouveau rich rock singer treated you with more decency than any of them did.

He was shy about it first, knowing how filthy rich you were. He made jokes about how his flat could fit in your kitchen twice over. He spoke what little French he remembered from childhood to impress you, paid for takeout, wore Lacoste when he came over to drink—then fuck—because it was, at the time, the most decent brand he owned. It’d been January when he came over, caught a sight of you at the foyer with all your expensive coats hung up. Your tongue was blue with a lozenge. It was the only thing he could look at while fucking you.

He wore a light blue variant once, fit and snug on him. You wrestled it off him in-between hot, sweet kisses, kept it on your bed so it’d be the first thing you tugged on in the morning before a shoot for a brand you can no longer place.

The last time you saw him he’d shown you lyrics, sang them aloud, drummed the beat he thought of on the skin of your thigh. His accent disappeared into rasp and notes. You told him to perform it live and he fucked you splayed up against your door, bent over your counter, then with your knees pressed to your chest on your white sheets, warm from the laundry. S’good for me, aren’t you, princess? All for me. My filthy girl.

Two hours later: I’m going on tour, sweetheart, he’d said while he cleaned you up.

’Til? Or… like, for long? Naked, you wrapped your blanket around your frame.

Ah, oui. For a while. 

You failed to answer amicably, your eyebrows twisting. You didn’t think to tell me? Just up and leave then? No number, no text, no announcement, just— You exhaled tightly. You knew he didn’t owe you anything of the sort; the sex, you guessed, the company had been so good you’d deluded yourself into thinking so.

Kitten—

Don’t call me that, you huffed, angrier now. Petulant. You got up and crowded him ’til you got to the door. Get the fuck out.

You watched him leave, brown leather jacket and black tee disappearing into London, and wrenched memories of him from the depths of your brain, the two years of your back and forth rendezvous. You wondered why you didn’t get a song in that time, after his ascent to fame, after the release of other hit singles inspired by his bandmates’ gossip rags and measly shags.

So a year later, when the memories have just begun to purge themselves—when the lyrics, which already have sent a swoop through your stomach, progress into the line When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste… and your knee socks, you effectively choke on your a.m. cappucino. It’s like “Rich Girl” all over again, but this is overt, it’s targeted. Like whoever wrote it must’ve known you’d be listening right now, en route to a shoot at eight in the morning.

“All good, miss?” Ed, your chauffeur, meets your eyes in the rearview, concerned.

“Perf—” your voice cracks. “Perfect.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to collect yourself, zeroing in on the lyrics that’d been foggy before.

Curing his January blues—the month you two started sleeping together.The fact that he’d had your number, a famous stranger, before you had his. Every beat, every word, every deep-voiced lyric traces back to you (unless, of course, he’s busying himself shagging any other girl in London on rainy Tuesdays and letting her wear his now-old polos. The thought sends a pang of jealousy through you.)

But you know better. You know you’re the only one.

Because your phone’s the only one buzzing late into the damp night—when the zeroes line up on the clock by your bed, the one he fixed up for you—with a number you’ve removed the name of, blocked at some point, but can still memorize in his absence.

Maybe tonight you’ll pick up.

[markantonys]

I truly think WoT is a well written, well acted show but you never see praise for it like that from most of the fandom (unless I'm following the wrong people). You see people praising GoT and HoTD like it's the best thing ever when I'm bored most of the time. Never anything similar said for WoT. I hope it does make it big in following seasons and gets more appreciation cause I truly think the show is underrated

i haven't seen GOT or HOTD so i can't speak to any comparisons there, but i agree that WOT is underrated! it feels like most of the viewership is either casuals who aren't Online About It and hardcore book fans who spend all their energy discussing book vs. show topics - not always in a negative way, i'm also including in here the show-positive discussions about improvements on the books or speculation for future seasons, but even these discussions are so rooted in book vs. show land that not a lot of people stop to discuss the show in a vacuum. it's often about "how is it similar to and different from the books?" and rarely about appreciating the show as its own standalone work.

which i think could be a difference with GOT and HOTD, they probably have a larger number of hardcore show-only fans who are Online About It discussing show-only things in detail such as writing and acting, whereas in my personal experience, WOT online fandom spaces are VERY dominated by book fans and they aren't talking as much about show-only things, or when they do, it's just to mistake "i personally don't like this change from the books" for "this is objectively bad writing and everybody who has ever watched the show agrees that the writing of the entire show is bad" lmao WOT reader fandom spaces have a reeeeaaaally skewed sense of the quality of the show's writing because they can't let go of their "similar to the books=good writing, different from the books=bad writing" baggage and also because they struggle to understand that good writing For TV is often very different from good writing For Books.

there's definitely also at play the societal tendency to praise miseryporn and characters who are terrible people as the creme de la creme of writing and acting. WOT has trauma and misery, but doesn't revel in it in a gratuitous way, and it has very flawed and complex characters, but the protagonists are all ultimately good people. it's a hopeful and uplifting story at its core and a story that wholeheartedly embraces its fantastical elements and wants to bring a sense of fun and escapism to viewers alongside the deep emotional stuff, and those are rarely taken as seriously as gritty cynical stories. hence, WOT is not viewed as a ~serious~ show worthy of having its acting & writing praised in the same way that GOT and HOTD are.

but WOT does do pretty good viewership numbers despite being kinda under the radar in the cultural consciousness, i think. i could see it gaining more attention in upcoming seasons as we enter the territory of the books that most people agree is the best portion of the series, and if they are finally able to do a proper promo cycle for s3 and beyond. from what i've seen, prime shows are never anywhere close to the level of promo netflix shows do (which is TOO much in some cases, rip to the poor bridgerton cast having to do about five thousand hours of interviews for s3), but WOT s1 came out during the covid zoom interview era and s2 came out during the strikes, so it's not hard to imagine that those 2 promo cycles might've been unusually low even for prime's standards and s3 might have a bit more. we shall see!

but at the end of the day, it's also kinda nice keeping wotshow as a hidden gem because greater online fandom attention would also mean an increase in insufferable takes haha i often find that smaller fandoms are a much more pleasant atmosphere than bigger ones!

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Aang is insufferable:

He has some very bad ideas that the narrative never explores and gets rewarded by the narrative for bad behavior.

Mostly just the way he deals with his crush on Katara and kind of forces it on her. It’s honestly really shitty because she never truly reciprocated his feelings and had plenty of moments where she shows she’s just trying not to hurt his feelings with a straight up rejection, but ends up with him in the end just because that’s what he wanted.

Like we know what it looks like when Katara actually has a crush on someone, she wouldn’t let the situation like the war affect how she feels about demonstrating those feelings when she’s so in touch with them. Like how she was with Jet and Haru. I just wish the writing team did a better job of showing Katara developing feelings for Aang way better than they did lol.

Made a series that was otherwise reasonably tolerable impossible to watch. I hate that all the jokes written for his character target 8-year-olds exclusively. Also his little TV show keeps appearing on my dash no matter how many words I block and I hate it

Propaganda why Gregory is insufferable:

This boy is so poorly written, it hurts. In the gameplay, he just acts annoyed and pissed off the whole time. Then, in the endings, he becomes a whole other character who acts scared and sad, which does not match the previous hours of gameplay AT ALL

But that just annoyed me

What really made me hate him was the GGY and Robot Gregory stuff, because OH NO, Gregory could not just be a normal kid who got into this situation by chance, he has to be a robotic recreation of the Crying Child, despite not acting one bit like CC, or, according to the GGY story in the books, he's responsible for multiple murders and is Afton's/the Mimic's apprentice.

Just let this kid be fucking normal!

(Also, unlike a lot of people, I really enjoy what the Ruin DLC did to his character. And don't try to say that's still the mimic, the mimic recycles dialog from the main game. This Gregory uses completely unique dialog, and unless the mimic was able to form new words in his voice all of a sudden, that's still him. He had to make a tough decision, one life or over hundreds and I can respect that)

Suffers from being made into another one of Matpat's ""is actually a robot theory"". It is annoying as hell, especially if its canon. We do not need robot children theories in a game about possession, child murder and serial killers. Especially not dumb theories about him being a 'recreation' of someone with a completely different personality. It has completely ruined any enjoyment I had in that character because we're just going back to the Afton family again

Someone made a good point about how his personality seems to be reminiscent of a certain trend where a video game protagonist has to be snarky even though it would’ve worked better for the horror atmosphere if he was more scared because it would’ve made the player feel his fear. I recall people being surprised about his personality and expecting him to be more scared, and I assume the developers were just afraid of ppl calling Gregory “whiny”, but it still feels like a missed opportunity

[kaythefloppa]

Wild Kratts - Our Blue and Green World: Part 1: Review [Spoilers]

Welp, here it is, the Wild Kratts TV movie (not to be confused with the feature film they've been teasing us with since 2021). There's been a lot of hype around this special and season, especially with how much the latter was being hyped up during the hiatus. Let's see if the blue and green bros were able to deliver: Spoilers under the cut

Well, this is certainly an attention grabber!

This entire live action intro is shot and edited like an animated Wild Kratts episode, it's glorious.

Woah, intro change!

They said the thing! They said the thing!

HELP THIS IS SO RELATABLE. Also, THE BOYS ARE FIGHTING

Lmao I don't think they do it very often, but using animals/nature in their insults is very creative.

Also, whooping crane episode when?

This entire song is mercifully short. Like most character sung songs in Wild Kratts, it's not good, but this at least is clever in its lyrics and its visuals. It feels like a Disney reference at best and I am content with that. I also ADORED seeing the Draco and Walrus Suit return again. It's arguably the best musical number in the series. No, that is not saying a lot.

MARTIN WHY ARE YOU THE ONE WHO'S MIFFED YOU NEARLY MUFASA'D YOUR LITTLE BROTHER

CHRIS WHY ARE YOU MILDLY INCONVENIENCED YOU GOT ACRAPHOBIA FALLING FROM THAT HEIGHT

When I first saw the clip, I thought that they were going somewhere with this, like they'd activate Peacock Powers at the end when they recognized the compatibility and blue and green. But nope. Wasted potential is an understatement.

Also, where the fuck are they right now? In a previous shot there was Target the Chameleon, implying that they've been to Madagascar, but that is an Indian peafowl, and as far as I'm concerned, they don't live in Madagascar. Were they just having an off-day? These animals have little to nothing to do with the plot when they really shouldn't have, so I don't see why they couldn't have just shown a projector image or something.

Remember when I joked about the Wild Pony Power Suit returning in S7.... fuck you Apollo.

Man, they are eating it up with the animation here. It's hard to tell with screengrabs but man, is it fluid.

The first half of this episode is mixed. While it feels like the brothers are incredibly stubborn, it also does make sense for them to be this fixated on their favorites. So I can totally buy this. It could've been insufferable to watch, but it wasn't.

As if YOU haven't spied on them since the first time your dorito-headed ass showed up on screen

Did you find that funny? Because not only do they do a similar joke like that later on, but they follow through on that joke in the most unexpected way you will shit your pants when you first ingest it.

Oh my god if they make a Creature Power Suit off of that bird, I will take back any diss I've made, that is so beautiful.

Good to know that Aviva put the button near the chest and not near the back.

Maybe it's just me but this is kinda pushing it. Chris is literally getting his organs crushed, I think that should matter more than A) being right or B) trying to get 2 people to stop fighting.

I'm loving the callback and what this leads up to but ew, all this does is remind me about how ugly bright the color pallatte in S6. Really glad they fixed it in S7.

HELL FUCKING YES

This episode finds really unique ways of showing how the two different biomes are interconnected. It's like Rainforest Stew's (very brilliantly handled) message only to a larger degree. Kids can learn a lot from this.

I fucking love this episode, man.

Honestly, the way they write Paisley in the first half of the episode is very in-line with her character. Most shows that do what this episode does has them be out-of-character as a set-up, but here, she's just roasting the fuck out of Zach. Once again, recontextualized entirely in the climax.

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET TO MADAGASCAR FROM THE GODDAMN AMAZON IN ONE AFTERNOON THAT IS LIKE MORE THAN 1,000 MILES AWAY?? ARE ANACONDAS THAT FAST?????

Also, INDRIS!!!!! :D

I was frankly expecting this to horribly backfire but spoilers, it doesn't. This actually winds up working. Common Aviva W.

To be continued.... will the blue and green rivalry end? Will one prove superior over another? And will they be able to stop Zach and Paisley and save the planet earth? And will this change the adventures of the Wild Kratts team forever? Stay tuned for part 2!

Pros:

The live action segments.

The animation of the earth's model.

The musical number not being ass.

Paisely's catty behavior.

The Anaconda Suit.

The inventive ways they show how the stability of the Earth is complex. There are a lot of ways it functions and thus a lot of ways it needs to survive

The comedy.

Cons:

The villains do not do anything until the second half of this episode. In fact, they're left completely in the backdrop. I expected them to make their prescence known and for Aviva to invent the discs to get them together for the SAKE of fighting the villains. But no. It makes the stakes feel hollow, which is the opposite of what they should be gunning for in an hour long special that they hype the shit out of.

CONCLUSION:

It was an "okay" set-up. It did live up to some of the hype it had, but not all of it. Honestly if it wasn't for the second half of this episode, this movie would be mediocre or slightly above average, but no. They do pick themselves off the ground and... they do jump the shark. But we'll get to that next time

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for blocking a friend on instinct? So i (f16) have this friend, (m16) we can call him D, who i've been friends with since kindergarten.

About a year ago, i started growing very close to D through our friend group's dnd campaign we held every friday. I knew him for a long time but that was the first time we had started hanging out out of school. We were talking on snapchat every night just chatting and after a while he started to send much more... revealing snaps. Just his bare shoulders but like without a shirt. He said it was because he had to let his medication for his back dry. I was a little uncomfortable, but we were friends so i didnt think that it would escalate into anything weird.

After about a month, D starts sending snaps in a towel and pictures of his chest which made me very uncomfortable. I kind of let the chatting die down after that because it was the only way i could think of that would be enough to gently let him down easy (i was wrong). I stopped going to the hangouts with that group and kind of distanced myself because how uncomfortable D made me. This only made D try harder to get my attention.

I was still friends with the others in the group so i would often have one-on-one hangouts with the others and watch tv. One thing we watched was Miraculous and we laughed and joked about it all the time. D overheard us or something and went home and binge watched the entire series in a week. Then everytime i ate lunch with that friend group, D would always make direct references to Miraculous or sing the theme song really loud. This wasnt once a day, D would make miraculous references every single minute. He became obsessed with the show (which, for reference of how weird it was, D is a very religious Christian boy. He gets upset if he gets an A- and never drinks caffeine (no problem with any of those things but just understand that kind of guy being deep within the fandom of Miraculous out of all shows 😭)). It was so bad, and it once again was making me very uncomfortable.

Eventually, it got to an insufferable point where D changed his route to go home and made sure to pass me every day after school and wave. I started avoiding him in the halls, he would always ask obscure questions that werent that important. I couldn't understand why he couldn't get that i didnt want to be friends with him anymore so i set boundaries.

A text i sent to D: i apologize if i ever caused any misunderstanding, but i would like to make it clear that im not romantically interested in you. i can see that you have been trying to grow closer, but i dont feel the same way. i don't appreciate being followed around, and i dont like when people force themselves to like the same things i like. its not attractive to be a copy of someone. i enjoy being your friend but it's difficult to disregard these things. if im being totally honest, when you do things like this, it makes me really uncomfortable and borderline creeped out. i know crushes wont disappear overnight but i would appreciate more space. if youre looking for a girlfriend, this isnt the right person, nor the right way to get it. and i wont tell anyone about this so dont worry about word spreading or anything. thank you

D's response: Oh, I'm so sorry I made you think that! I don't have a crush on you, I just noticed how you don't hang out with our friend group as often and I just wanted to make sure that I was being as nice as possible to make sure you weren't mad at us or anything. I did start to think that maybe me trying all that made me seem clingy or annoying, so I'm really sorry for all of that. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, I'll try to do better now!

This didnt sit right with me because after all of that i cannot fathom how that translates to "i wanted to include you". This made me question a lot about the situation.

Reasons i feel like i MBTA: i'm over thinking things and D could be a genuinely a nice person. Its hard for me to read the room and i need to work on that and probably apologize to D.

Reasons i feel like i MNBTA: i should trust my instincts rather than ignore them. I've had a psychological abuser in my family before and the situation could be a stalker behavior that i've learned is not ok to have.

What are these acronyms?

[thesecretbits]

Chan went on Bubble, told people that he makes his own decisions, his own rules. People immediately get mad that he's defending the company and say he's lying.

And this is the reason why he's taken a break from Chan's Room. Because some of you people are insufferable no matter what he says or does. You talk about how open he is with the fandom, but when he gets on Bubble to defend himself (not the company) and the decisions he makes because the fans insist on treating him like a child who is completely controlled by the company when he has told the fandom more than once how much input and say in SKZ as an entity he and the boys have in the things they do.

He said in Bubble months ago that he was not doing Chan's Room for the foreseeable future because they are busy. And they have been, flying from one country to the next for performances, concerts, and festivals, while still recording music for the albums they keep putting out. Fans complain about it daily. You saw a ten second video clip. What was said was in answer to a question that I did not hear in any video clip is saw, was not an official statement, and lacked context. Yes, maybe the company should have put out a statement saying that Chan's Room is on hiatus until further notice once a couple of weeks became a couple of months, but Chan did tell you that and nothing he said about the reason he wasn't doing it is untrue.

You say the company isn't protecting him right now, but what you can't accept is that the company is protecting Chan, from the fans and all the backlash that ensued every time he did Chan's Room.

Every time he came on live, he had to wade through a slew of nasty, inappropriate comments. Fans would take clips of what he said, post them on the internet, he would get hate from antis, and then more people would show up in his comments telling him to off himself or call him vile, disgusting things. There were so many comments that were high key sexual harassment, a lot of them from his own fans. Fans would trauma dump on him, constantly tell him to speak English, constantly complain about him going live too late and how he should be sleeping as if he isn't a grown adult man, and bombard him with requests for other members to join him. He had to start only reading comments from the fan club community to try to weed out the sheer number of inappropriate ones, but people were mad about that because Bubble community is not open to everyone.

Chan's Room might be important to him, I'm not saying it isn't, but doing it every week and then having to watch and then deal with the fallout the next day must have been mentally exhausting. Some of the fans couldn't even chill out when his friend died, and he was obviously sad but still doing lives.

What about any of that says that Chan's Room is still a safe space for Chan? Why are we surprised that he's decided to take a break from that? Him wanting to connect with the fans the way he did when he was doing his lives does not negate the fact that doing so is mentally taxing.

Telling the fans that he makes his own decisions is not defending the company. It's defending himself. People telling the fandom to look inward and take some accountability for its actions is not defending the company. No one is defending the company. We're telling you that what you've been doing, something Chan has explicitly said does not help, and how you've responded to something that, so far, has not been officially stated is wrong. Stop mass emailing, stop sending trucks, stop being obnoxious under JYPE posts on social media. You just give antis even more fodder against the boys, and make the entire fandom look childish to everyone who knows Stray Kids and/or works with them.

Some of you fans really need to take a step back and reevaluate. Because some of you really take this parasocial relationship a little too seriously and use no critical thinking skills to navigate it.

[centrally-unplanned]

I watched the Scott Pilgrim anime! I was deeply ambivalent, which I am sure is a shock to no one who knows me and saw it lol. I think I have a sequence of thoughts, so I will tackle the obvious one first to get it out of the way: Marketing, Adaptation, & Genre Drift in Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Starting from top, if you don’t know, the Scott Pilgrim anime is not an adaptation of the original source material, but an alternate history version of the events where the titular Scott isn’t present for the majority of the episodes and Ramona Flowers is the main character. Which has been controversial! Not…amazingly controversial or anything, this is an extremely low stakes scenario and from my analysis the majority of people liked it. But controversial enough to get insufferable Kotaku articles “explaining the backlash” which don’t explain the backlash well. Let me see if I can do a better job - its fun to set low bars for yourself to clear after all.

The backlash starts with the marketing; really just the professional drama-trolls would have objected beyond an initial reaction to Netflix announcing Ramona Flowers vs the World; as a concept it makes a ton of sense, and it is essentially what they actually did (well, we will get into that). But that is not how it was sold:

“Join Scott in his fight for love, life, and rock!” I’d love to, still waiting for the invite! This is the first teaser for the show, and if you do a quick “frame count” it pretty equally privileges Scott & Ramona both, but Scott is still on top and it deliberately hides any sense that it is an alternate timeline. It even has this screenshot as one of its final moments:

Which I am pretty sure does not appear in the actual anime! If it does its in some flashback alt-timeline scene in a later episode, not its implied context (in the actual episode Scott ‘loses’ this fight). I can show more evidence - casting the original cast of the movie to make it seem like a ‘recreation’, statements by O’Malley where he plays deliberately coy with the idea of how similar it's going to be, and so on - but I think I don’t have to, because it was intentional, you don’t have to read the tea leaves on this. The bait-and-switch is part of the marketing, not an accident from it.

That is the step 1: people are thrown about being deceived. The step 2 is simple - this is a deception about an adaptation. I am someone who constantly complains about shows sacrificing cohesion & storytelling for “the twist”, but its too common these days to be that mad over it in a mass way. My designated punching bag over at Kotaku points this out:

This is a recurring theme for metatextual work like Final Fantasy VII Remake and the Rebuild of Evangelion films: initially they’re presented as retellings of beloved stories, only for it to become clear at some later point that they’re going to take more than a few liberties and tell a different story entirely.

The difference here is that FFVII and Evangelion are remakes, not adaptations. FFVII is a video game being made into a video game again; Evangelion is a tv show + movie being made into a movie series. The FFVII decision was controversial, but fundamentally you can just go back and play the original game; fucking everyone hated the idea of the Evangelion rebuilds being remakes because that is pointless, the originals have aged amazingly, and they had to deviate to justify their existence (they failed at that, but a story for another time). Meanwhile, Scott Pilgrim is a comic, that has never been a TV series, or an anime. There is the movie, but did you know a bunch of comic fans hate the movie? You see a lot of comments like these all the time (from a discourse reddit thread debating the new show):

Personally, I thought it was fun. I agree with a lot of your complaints honestly, but I don’t understand how you liked the movie? I can’t stand the movie because I feel like the characters are all flat, especially Ramona who has absolutely no personality at all.

I disagree btw, the movie is great, but it is a loose adaptation - hell it was released before the final volume of the graphic novels was finished, it has a different ending! A short, cohesive movie could never adapt a long-form, episodic graphic novel. And its live action, stylistically very different. So this TV show was both branded as, and was expected to fulfill a demand for, a first “real” adaptation of the comic, that people wanted. The fact that Evangelion deviated in its remake is a poor comparison. Questioning that people want full adaptations of works they enjoy isn’t really worth our time.

Now I personally don’t care about the above two - I am explaining the debate, but they aren’t problems for me. Step 3 is where I start caring - I think Ramona Flowers vs the World is a great idea. They thought they made that, and I wish they had. But in the process of telling the bait-and-switch of the story, they also bait-and-switched the genre. There is this great quote from O’Malley about the original graphic novel’s story from an interview (whose headline we will revisit in another post, don’t you worry):

Yeah, I mean, when I was writing Scott Pilgrim the first time, I just wanted to come up with a very simple story engine: fight, fight, fight, get to the end. That gave me something to hang all this other stuff on, all this slice of life hanging out in Toronto.

Its such a nice summation of what Scott Pilgrim is - the fighting against the evil exes? Its all sizzle and jokes, none of it matters. Its a plot device to structure the real story, which is a slice-of-life romance drama, coming-of-age narrative, and extremely intimate portrait of Toronto’s scene of indie music venues and hipster coffee shops. The joke is that Scott is dealing with all this crazy video game/anime shenanigans on top of actually having to navigate very grounded past emotional damage and present challenges of adulthood. The heart of the comic is not the fight scenes, some of which literally happen in the background while other characters are talking, but scenes of a group of friends hanging out at 11:00 PM at a dive Korean restaurant:

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off meanwhile is not built around this cast. Its built around a mystery plot and Ramona Flower’s evil exes, who she is investigating, and Scott Pilgrim, uh, checks notes travelling to the future and fighting his …aged enraged alternate self from the original timeline…? Anyway, Ramona’s evil exes are mainly joke characters, comic reliefs who engage in crazy shenanigans. Half of the episodes are structured around them, and their episodes are filled with extended comedy bits and very-long fight scenes. Episode two has a 13 minutes long fight scene between two of them, including build-up, over control of the League of Evil Exes. Hell, they don’t even live in Toronto - a ton of the new anime takes place in New York City and a bit in California. The comic meanwhile has panels just…explaining locations in Toronto sometimes:

Listing the hours of operation, its so cute! The anime has no time for this in between its sci-fi plots and fight scenes, and its far cheaper for it.

The decision to focus on shallow characters like Ramona’s exes is downstream of the decision to focus on Ramona without Scott -besides the exes the rest of the characters are Scott’s friends, who Ramona gets to know through him. Which is the final point here - who are the characters people love from Scott Pilgrim?

All of Scott’s friends ofc. Characters like Lucas Lee are memes, not people. Obviously Kim Pine, Young Neil, Knives Chau and so on appear in the anime. Sometimes they have great scenes - like the adorable scene of Knives & Kim playing music together, Knives’s first time really trying to jam:

Which goes absolutely nowhere from a character perspective - Knives & Kim barely interact after this. It sets up Knives doing a comedy-meta musical for the plot, sure…but that’s boring in comparison to real emotional connections, Knives doesn't have an arc. But they can’t have more, because our main character Ramona Flowers doesn’t know these people; she wouldn’t just hang out with them, and she is busy with her mystery investigation. She sees them when she needs them for plot reasons. Kim and Knives and Stephen Stills are much flatter this time around (Julie, to her credit, kicks ass in this one).

Obviously I could point out that Scott & Ramona’s relationship in the anime, given that they have literally one date before Scott vanishes, has no depth to it, but that is easy. The funniest way to summarize this character issue is if you check the tags on Tumblr right now, you are going to be awash in Scott/Wallace shipping posts. Like I swear, at times its straight(?)-up 50% of the posts going on, its a rabid gay horde out there lusting for this sugar daddy/baby dynamic. Which makes sense, they have so much sexual tension & emotional depth as friends…in the comic. In the anime they barely know each other! Wallace hates Scott and interacts with him maybe a half dozen times, primarily to tell him to move out, then does his own shit. This is all people projecting comic!Scott/Wallace onto the current show.

There are more downstream consequences of these decisions & other issues (like the overdone meta elements, or abandoning most of the indie-music aesthetic) but this has gone on long enough. The point is that telling a different version of the story would actually be fine. It would disappoint some fans, sure, but if done well you would likely win them around. Hell, the original comic’s ending kind of sucks, good time to polish some things. But if you change the main character and the genre and the cast focus and all the character dynamics…at a certain point its just its own new story now. A story irrevocably tied to the old one, but not about any of the things the old one cared about. I think you can see why that would be a harder sell than Ramona Flowers vs the World, even if it was a good zany action comedy anime in its own right. You will get backlash from this level of drift - and you will deserve it.

Also fuck Lisa am I right? Jeez, 0 out of 2 for moving picture adaptations. What you get for being blonde I guess.