#or for my writing bits so i stopped making them all together

[barrenclan]

i feel a bit bad for cormorant :( im sure this isnt your intent but it almost feels as though hes settled for a life he didnt want

I'm curious what this is in response to - there's two major things I can think of, so let me explore them for a second!

So, if this is in response to the idea that Cormorantleaf wants kittens and Pinewing doesn't; lemme talk about that for a second. I tried to go into it in the last epilogue, but with their late-stage relationship I wanted to address a trope in fiction that really bothers me, especially as someone who doesn't want to have children. Stop me if you've heard it before:

Characters A and B are in a romantic relationship. Character A wants to have kids, but B doesn't, for whatever reason. They struggle, and talk about it, and eventually A says "it's okay, even if we don't have kids, I'll still love you!" It's really nice, and confirms that they love each other even if they don't want. Except, then, B turns around and says "it's so good to know that! It made me change my mind; I got over my 'fears', and now I do want kids!"

That bugs me. It's always the assumption, even if it's established that a relationship would be okay without kids, it's always on the onus of the person who doesn't want children to change their mind. It's never enough to stop at "it's okay if we don't have kids together" - and then they don't. So that's what I wanted to do with Cormorantleaf and Pinewing's relationship, and it's why I had Pinewing talk about his discomfort surrounding children so often and Cormorantleaf's potential to be a father. If Corm wanted kids more than he wanted to be with Pine - he could leave! No stopping him. But Pinewing matters more to him than having kids does. I find it more distasteful that someone would force themselves to raise children if they didn't want to (it's almost like that's a theme of the story... and kind of exactly what happened with Nightberry). Admittedly, I would've liked to rather do that idea with Daffodilcloud and Duncan instead of the main gay couple, but eh, I already had an end-of-arc theme with Daff to wrap up that would've clashed. These are the decisions you make when writing a story.

On the other hand, if this is in response to the idea that they're traveling around instead of settling down in one place, or that Pinewing is forcing him into the relationship; maybe I was a bit too subtle with what I was trying to get across. Cormorantleaf was actually the first one to suggest that they travel around together, way back in Issue 26:

Corm needs an emotional anchor more than a physical anchor. And this was especially clear in his early development, and how his relationship to Pinepaw was a bit unhealthy (and vice versa, too); he had such intense abandonment issues that he was holding Pinepaw up as a total pillar of support, and believed he wouldn't be able to survive without him.

That's why I wanted Cormorantleaf to have a chance to be on his own during the breakup, and solidfy that he could exist without a relationship, that he didn't need another person to survive. But instead that he could willingly choose a relationship with Pinewing, because it was something he wanted and something he thought would enrich his life rather than an obligation.

All that to say that Comorantleaf's hesitation in the last epilogue is not meant to be presented as "he's being forced into something he doesn't want by Pinewing", but rather "he's scared that them traveling around will cause Pinewing to abandon him, and that makes him panic and lash out".

And Pinewing would have absolutely stayed with him even after Cormorantleaf yelled at him, except that Corm happened to hit on Pinewing's own insecurities that come from his childhood of neglect and feelings that nobody actually wants him around:

You don't have to be un-anonymous to respond to this, and anyways if it's just personal feelings that's perfectly valid and not something I want to try and change. But I never meant to make it seem like Cormorantleaf wasn't happy with where he ended up, or that he 'settled' for something he didn't want.

[stardustrebels]

A Hunger Like This- A Joel Miller x f!reader one shot

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E/ 18+ MDNI WC: 5k

Summary: I really wanted to write a Joel Miller Valentine’s Day story, but couldn’t decide between naughty or nice so I wrote both.

Tags: No Outbreak!AU, established relationship, Joel Miller x f!reader, no/ minimal age gap, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, pet names (darlin’, sugar, honey, baby,) dirty talk, rough sex, creampie and some bdsm elements- D/s dynamics, praise, light spanking, pussy/ clit tapping, edging and orgasm denial. Use of traffic light system & aftercare. Everything’s safe, sane and consensual. No use of y/n, minimal descriptions of reader. She wears fishnets, a bra and heels and has hair long enough to pull. Joel Miller is a competent partner because of course he is. Possessive dom!Joel comes out to play. He eats pussy like an absolute beast, as he should. 

A/N: A Valentine’s day story with a rough Joel Miller who’s had a bad day and a reader who likes to tease. I just wanted an excuse to write something porny for fun and it ended up a bit of a monster. I’m not even sorry. 1/2 of my Joel Miller Valentine’s day naughty & nice one shots. Enjoy!

You knew by the way Joel answered the phone at lunch time that he was having a bad day. He was still kind, called you the sweet names he usually did, and still told you he loved you before he hung up, but you could tell from his tone that something was wrong. He was dog-tired from working too hard and trying to hide it from you. He’d told you he booked a table at your favourite place for that night to celebrate Valentine’s day with you, but you knew it was only to make you happy. He’d told you once he’d do anything to see you smile. 

You figured you could probably make his day at least a little better by offering to spend the night at home, but you wanted to make it extra special, and when you eventually decided on how you would do that, your insides fluttered with anticipation. Joel wasn’t one to talk much about what he wanted, but you paid attention when he did. One night during lazy conversation between tangled sheets he’d let something slip. 

“Fishnets, huh?” You’d teased, grinning as you lay draped across his chest. 

“Mhm.” His voice had been thick with sleep, his fingers trailing idly across your skin as he admitted there was just something about the idea of fishnets and heels that drove him wild, that they had since he was a teenager, and you’d stored that little detail away knowing that you’d use it one day. Today was that day. 

By the time Joel’s truck pulled in to the driveway, you’d positioned yourself in the entryway, leaning against the wall in black fishnets, the bra from the lingerie set Joel had bought you last year, a barely-there skirt that left little to the imagination, and your favourite pair of black heels. 

When he stepped inside, the first thing you noticed was the bouquet in his hand- red roses held together by brown paper with a familiar logo stamped on it. This man, despite his tiredness, had gone across town after work to pick up flowers from your favourite shop. Your heart stuttered and for a second you almost abandoned your plan and ran straight in to his arms. 

You stopped yourself as soon as you saw the look on his face.

“Jesus Christ.” Was all he offered as he closed the door behind him.

You stepped forward, smiling sweetly as you reached out to lay a hand against his arm.

“Rough day, baby?” 

Joel’s fingers tightened around the bouquet, the paper crinkling under the grip. His gaze dragged over you so slowly you could practically feel it. 

You took the bouquet, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Are these for me? They’re so beautiful, thank you.” You said, tone saccharine as you placed them down on the console table beside you. 

Moving your attention back to him, you slid your hands up his chest to push his jacket from his shoulders. He let you, though you could feel how tense his muscles were under your touch. 

“Darlin’…” he muttered, so low you would have missed it had you not been standing right in front of him. You shushed him, giving his jacket one last shove, letting it land on the floor by his feet. 

You leaned in, lips grazing the shell of his ear. “You’ve been working so, so hard,” you said, emphasising the words with an exaggerated pout and a whine. 

The way his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline almost made you break, but you caught yourself before you laughed, pressing a kiss against his shoulder to hide your smile before you continued. “Why don’t I help you relax?” 

His hands drifted up to rest on your waist, fingers pressing gently in to the soft skin there, one of his favourite parts of you, he’d admitted one night. You peppered gentle kisses up his neck toward his jaw as your hands wandered across his chest and down the firm muscles of his arms, before moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. His jaw clenched hard under your lips as your fingers ghosted over his bare chest, and you expected him to snap, to take control the second your hand touched his bare skin, but he didn’t. 

Interesting. 

You felt his stomach tense under your touch, heard the tiny intake of breath as your fingertips dipped lower and brushed just past the waistline of his jeans, but he didn’t move. 

You grinned and leaned in to brush a kiss under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. His fingers twitched against your waist, but still he held back. 

“You must be exhausted, baby,” you murmured against his skin, voice dripping with sympathy. “I thought for sure by now you’d be telling me exactly how you wanted me.” 

The hitch of his breath was almost satisfying, but he still didn’t react. It made you pause for a second. Was he too tired? Had you misread this? Doubt crept in around the edges of your plan, and you faltered a little, until you glanced up at him.

His lips were curled in to a devilish grin, dark eyes locked on yours, dazed with a look that was nothing more than pure, unadulterated lust. He was letting you have your little game, enjoying it until it was time for him to play.

Oh. 

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the heat now pooling in your stomach made it difficult. 

You pressed a couple more kisses down his neck and onto his shoulder for good measure before taking his hand to lead him further in to the house. You made sure to sway your hips just enough, knowing damn well that his eyes were fixed on your ass. 

You could practically feel the tension radiating off him when you stopped in front of the couch, and a heat crept up your neck at the severity of it. You resisted the urge to look at him, knowing if you caught another glimpse of that dark, hungry look in his eyes, you’d lose your nerve entirely. 

You stepped close to him, your focus fixed on your hands dragging up his chest, slow and deliberate, pushing his open shirt to hang loose on his shoulders. You traced a nail lightly across his sternum, revelling in the subtle shiver that ran through him at the sensation, and you couldn’t help your smirk when you noticed his jaw tick out of the corner of your eye. 

You pressed yourself against him and reached for one of his hands, guiding it to rest on the front of your thigh. A sound rumbled from his throat then, a low groan that he couldn’t hold in, but he still didn’t move. His fingers trailed up with encouragement from yours on top, his rough skin catching against the delicate net. You pushed his hand up further, brushing past the hem of your skirt and between your legs. His body went rigid against yours when he realised you’d forgone any underwear as part of the surprise. 

Something in the air around him shifted as his fingers hovered between your legs, just shy of where you wanted them. Resisting the urge to buck your hips up in to his hand, you finally met his gaze and his expression made your heart skip more than a few beats. He’d never looked quite so intense; pupils blown with lust, nostrils flared, taking slow, deep breaths. You were struck with the sudden urge to run. 

As if he could sense it, he pushed you down on to the couch before you could move. The air left your lungs with a squeak as you collided with the cushions. He caged you in with his arms and took one last deep breath as he smiled down at you. 

“My turn,” he said in a growl, kicking your legs apart with a gentle tap of his foot before sliding down to kneel between them. 

You let out a whine as he admired you for a second, head tilted slightly at the sight in front of him. He trailed his hands up, pushing the skirt up to bunch up around your waist.  “Is this what you wanted?” He murmured, eyes locked between your legs as his thumb brushed over your clit, pushing the net against it ever so slightly. You sucked in a breath and raised your hips, trying to gain just a tiny bit more friction. 

He stilled and his other hand slapped the inside of your thigh, just hard enough to sting and send a jolt of electricity through your core. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” He said, his voice thick with arousal. “This what you wanted when you decided to tease me like that?” 

You swallowed hard, head spinning from how quickly he’d flipped your game on its head. 

“Yes,” you whimpered, gasping when his thumb pushed harder against the seam over your clit. “Yes, Joel, it’s what I wanted.” 

He hummed in approval, adjusting his weight to pepper kisses up your thigh. You bucked your hips again and Joel tapped your clit lightly with his fingertips, making you gasp and grip the cushions on either side of you. 

“Uh-uh, dirty girl,” Joel muttered against your skin, resuming his trail of kisses, torturously slow. “For all your teasin’? You’ll get what I fuckin’ give you.” 

When he reached the apex of your thigh you let out a long, needy whine, trying desperately not to squirm as he nudged his nose against your mound, pressing his tongue flat over the net that barely covered your folds. Your head fell against the back of the couch and you let out a string of curses, causing him to chuckle, the vibrations of it heightening every sensation. 

The seams between the holes of your tights were scraping against you as he licked, adding a new level of torture as his tongue flicked up and down, catching tiny points of your skin underneath. Your legs trembled, heels sliding against the floor as you tried to arch up to his mouth, desperate for more, but his fingers dug in to the outside of your thighs, keeping you pinned. Every time his tongue dragged against the fabric, it was almost where you wanted it most, but not quite. It was torture. Exquisite, delicious torture. 

You let out another whine, this one more frustrated than the last and Joel stopped altogether. 

“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” He drawled, lips ghosting over the netting, his breath hot against the dampness that had gathered there. “Thought this was what you wanted?” 

You groaned and gripped fistfuls of cushions in clenched fists. Joel hummed in amusement and kept going, alternating between light flicks of his tongue and slow, dragging licks that made you squirm uselessly under his hold. Every time you tried to angle yourself so that your tongue would hit where you ached for it, the fishnets got in the way. It wasn’t until you felt the breaths of another soft chuckle that you realised he was doing it on purpose. Another frustrated noise bubbled up in your throat, and you grimaced at how sensitive your clit was under the seams dragging against it. 

“Joel, please-”

He exhaled sharply, the sound almost sympathetic, but the way his tongue continued its ministrations told he wasn’t quite done making you suffer. You gasped when he sucked gently on the sensitive spot just above your clit, his teeth scraping lightly, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your legs twitched, thighs threatening to close around his head, but he gripped your hips and held you where he wanted you. 

“Jesus,” you gasped, panting now, every muscle tight with need. “Joel, I- I can’t-” 

He groaned against you, tongue pressing a little harder, still blocked by the crosses in the fabric. You let out a desperate sob and raised your head from the back of the couch. He stilled and locked eyes with you. 

You felt as wrecked as he looked, and he must have felt some pity for you because the next thing you knew, his fingers were tearing a hole in your fishnets, right at the center of your soaked aching core, earning a gasp and a shocked, breathy laugh from you. 

He ripped at the fabric until he was satisfied with how much of you he’d uncovered, groaning at the sight now in front of him. He swatted lazily at your thighs, pushing them further apart. 

“Spread those legs, baby. Let me see what’s mine.” He rasped, voice dripping with desire. 

You hardly had time to take another breath before he was on you. His tongue was everywhere- hot, wet and relentless. Now that there was nothing in the way, Joel was devouring you like a man starved. You struggled to focus on anything, but obeyed and spread your legs wider, earning a muffled hum of approval as he buried his face deeper. 

Your fingers found their way in to his hair, threading through his thick curls as his tongue worked you over, unsure if you were pulling him closer or trying to push him away. Either way, Joel wasn’t going anywhere. 

His grip on your thighs tightened as he flattened his tongue and dragged it up through your folds again and again, his low groans mingling with yours in the most intoxicating way. 

“Fuck, sugar,” he murmured against your heat, “Ain’t a single inch of you I don’t wanna put my mouth on.” 

You gasped as he latched on to your clit, sucking just hard enough to make your back arch. The pleasure was sharp, coiling tight at the base of your spine, dancing just beyond your reach and tempting you to chase it. 

And then, he pulled back. 

You groaned in protest and your fingers tugged uselessly at his hair, trying to guide his head back to where it had been. Joel chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to your inner thigh instead. 

“Not yet, darlin’,” he murmured, glancing up at you. His face would have been the picture of innocence had it not been absolutely saturated in the evidence of your arousal. 

His fingers replaced his mouth, teasing through your folds, barely pressing where you needed them. You writhed beneath him, trying to push in to his touch, but he only pulled away again, leaving you aching. 

You whined a plea down at him, voice cracking with frustration and he hummed back in mock sympathy.  “Y’gonna be a good girl f’me?” 

“Yes,” you gasped, more desperate than you’d ever been for him to make you come, “Yes, please I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl just please-”

His tongue was on you again in an instant, causing your rambling pleas to morph in to a deep moan in your throat, but it was too soft and slow, keeping you just on the edge without allowing you to fall over it. 

“Joel,” you sobbed through your moans, rocking your hips, “I- I need-”

“Oh, I know, baby,” he said, pouting before pressing a teasing kiss on to your clit. “Poor thing. You’re real close, huh?” 

Your fingers tightened in his hair. “Yes!”

He pulled back again, lips curling smugly as he looked up at you, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. 

“You’ll come when I let you.” 

The whine that left your lips was such a foreign sound to you, you almost couldn’t believe you’d made it. Your thighs were trembling uncontrollably and you glanced down at Joel, tears blurring the edges of your vision. His smirk softened just a fraction at the sight of you and his fingers moved from your thigh to trace the curve of your hip. 

“We green, darlin’?” His voice was rough with restraint. Your head was swimming, but the mention of your safe word system grounded you for a moment.

You swallowed thickly, nodding. “Yeah,” you gasped, breath hitching at how delicately he was caressing your skin. “We’re green.”

“Atta girl.” He rumbled, voice thick with approval. He traced slow circles back down to your thigh, his eyes fixed on yours, watching your changing expression intently. “You’re gonna be good f’me, ain’t you? Good girls get to come.”

When you let out a sigh and shot him a relaxed smile and a nod, his satisfied smirk returned, sharper this time. His head dipped again, and he pressed teasing kisses around your clit before flicking his tongue over it, making you shiver. It wasn’t long before you were moaning and gasping again, whispering broken pleas up toward the ceiling. 

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he ordered, his thumb taking over, pressing against your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy. “Beg for it, baby.” 

You had no pride left, no shame. They were gone and raw, desperate need had taken their place. Your head fell back and your hand left his hair to grasp at the edge of the couch and you rocked your hips against his hand, legs threatening to close around his head. 

“I need it, I need to come, I- please, fuck, Joel, I-”

He groaned and slid two fingers inside of you, curling up to press against the spot he knew made you come undone. The moment he nudged it, you let out a sharp cry, hips jolting toward him as the heat coiled tighter in your stomach. 

“There it is, pretty girl. Come f’me, let me feel it,” he murmured, before flicking his tongue back against your clit. 

You clenched around his fingers in response, thighs twitching, pleasure so sharp it was almost unbearable. Your moans gave way to a garbled sob, fingers clutching the cushions in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. Joel grunted and lapped at your clit like a man possessed. Every flick, every calculated curl of his fingers, every slick, filthy sound had you spiralling toward your inevitable release. 

You held your breath as your body went tight, pleasure knotting so tightly you thought you might snap in half. When you finally fell over the edge, it hit you like a truck; pleasure slamming through you so hard your vision went white. You let out a choked cry as your entire body seized, back arching clean off the couch. The pleasure was devastating- wave after wave of it crashing through you, with Joel’s fingers dragging every last drop of pleasure from you as you sobbed his name, trembling under his touch. 

After a moment, his hands slid down your legs to your feet, his touch gentle and reverent. He sat back on his heels and slid your shoes off one by one before tossing them over his shoulder. His hands continued their tracing, back up to your waist. He unbuttoned your skirt before pulling it off in one smooth motion, leaving your wrecked fishnets firmly in place. 

He stood, unbuckling his belt and shrugging off his shirt. You bit back a moan when he shoved down his jeans and boxers, freeing his hard, leaking cock. He stroked himself, breathing heavily as he watched you squirm and lick your lips beneath him.

Before you got a chance to really admire him, Joel grabbed you and flipped you on to your front, setting you on all fours, fingers hooking in the net to drag your hips toward him, causing the fabric to rip again. He ran his palm over the curve of your ass and gave it a squeeze as his other hand slid between your legs, fingers pressing against your swollen clit, drawing a choked moan from you. 

“So sensitive, sugar. I know you can take it, though.”

You whimpered, pushing back against him, silently begging for more. Joel huffed a laugh as he lined himself up against your entrance, teasing. 

“Tell me you want it.” 

“I want it,” you gasped, hands clutching against the cushions, scratching at the fabric as you keened.. “I want you. Please, Joel-” 

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With a low, wrecked groan, his entire length was inside you in one slow, ruinous thrust. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he hissed through gritted teeth, fingers digging in to your hips. “You feel so goddamn good. Gonna let me take what I need, darlin’?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, arching your back to press further into him, revelling in the way he was stretching you: overwhelming in the best way. 

Joel pulled back and slammed in to you again, setting a ruthless pace, dragging you back to meet him with every thrust. His hands were rough, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding up your back to fist in to your hair.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he praised. Each thrust was deep and desperate, stealing what little breath you had left from your lungs with each sharp snap of his hips. Joel sounded like he was hanging on by a thread, babbling strings of praises punctuated by hissed curses, voice wrecked and rough with need. “You’re mine, ain’t you? Mine. Takin’ me so well. Made for me. So fuckin’ perfect.” 

His hand left your hair and you almost whined with the loss of contact before his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, the feeling pulling a deep, animalistic moan from your throat. The sound only seemed to spur Joel on, and he dragged you up against his chest, keeping his rhythm with near-perfect precision against something blissful deep inside of you. 

He pressed a burning kiss to your neck, growling against the spot just below your ear. You could barely keep yourself upright, but Joel was one step ahead of you, wrapping an arm around your middle to keep you pressed to him, his other hand reaching between your legs, fingertips circling expertly against you, despite the rapid pace he’d set. 

“Love havin’ you like this,” he rasped, rhythm stuttering just slightly as you clenched around his cock. “Fuck, that’s it, you’re gonna give me another, ain’t you?” 

A sob tore from your throat, a familiar pleasure tightening like a vice inside of you. 

“I got you, sweet girl. C’mon, come on my cock. Let me feel it.” 

You shattered with a cry, pleasure ripping through your muscles so intensely you thought you might collapse beneath the force of it, but Joel held you steady, his movements turning frantic, losing his perfect rhythm as the tight heat of you squeezed him, pulling him over the edge alongside you with a deep, guttural groan. It vibrated against the damp skin of your neck and contorted in to something soft and raw, breaking apart in to broken whimpers as he spilled inside of you, his body wracked with tiny, involuntary shudders. His hands trembled where they held you, fingers flexing and gripping like he needed you closer, even though there wasn’t a single inch left between you. 

It left you gasping, sucking in the air even though it felt like there was none left in the room; overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of it all. The way he clung to you, the way his lips imparted breathless murmurs of your name, the word falling over your skin again and again like a confession. His devotion to you rolling off of him in waves, pulsing through you with every thump of his heart against your back, along with aftershocks that made you quiver along with him. 

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds filling the space were your gasping breaths -  lingering echoes of your pleasure. You turned your head just enough to press a shaky kiss to the side of his jaw, the sharp scratch of his scruff pulling you further from your reverie. He let out a heavy exhale and rested his forehead against your temple, his breath cool against your scorching skin. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he finally said, voice scratchy and worn. You gave a satisfied hum. You knew he did. How could you not - he was clutching you to him like some precious thing that might fizzle out of existence the moment he let go. 

“I love you too,” you said in return, lifting a hand to cup the back of his head, carding your fingers through his thick, tousled curls. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” 

He peppered kisses down your neck in response and shifted so that he could slide out of you. You groaned in unison as he did, his spend leaking out on to your thigh. He ghosted a finger between your legs to feel it, and a low hum rumbled from his chest; the feel of it igniting the residual embers of possessiveness, ever-present at the edges of his desire for you. 

“Can you stand?” Joel said against your neck. You nodded, and moved away from him, but the moment he eased his grip and your feet hit the rug, your legs wobbled beneath you. His reflexes were quicker- of course they were, and his strong arms were around you before you could sway even an inch.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckled. “C’mon, sugar. Hold on t’me.” 

He slid a hand down your arm and laced his fingers with yours as you clutched his arm to steady yourself. Even when you found your footing, he kept his hold on you, making sure you were alright on your own before he even thought about letting go. He turned you to face him and lifted himself from the couch to press a soft kiss against your lips, the energy of it in such stark contrast to how he’d fucked you not ten minutes before. You sighed in to the kiss, tasting yourself on him as his tongue danced over your lips, coaxing yours out to meet it. 

“Let’s get these off,” he said, crouching down to help you out of your torn fishnets. He peeled them off with care, muttering about how it was a damn shame, before glancing up at you with such a salacious grin that it made you giggle. 

“Guess I owe you a new pair of these, huh?” 

You smirked, “Only if you wanna do that again.” 

His smile grew, crooked, lazy and just shy of arrogant. 

“I’d do that every day if I could, sweetheart.”  

Joel stood and his hands moved to your bra, unclasping it with practised ease, his fingertips following it as it slid from your body, his gaze tracing over every inch of exposed skin. 

“Christ, look at you,” he muttered, tone tinged with reverence, “Most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on.” 

You felt suddenly shy at the way he was looking at you and you shot him a coy smile. His hands cupped at your waist and he guided you in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, darlin’.” 

The steam of the shower curled around you both as Joel pulled you under the water with him, his broad chest solid against your back. He took his time, lathering shampoo through your hair, massaging at your scalp until you melted against him. His lips found the curve of your shoulder and he pressed soft, lingering kisses between quiet murmurs of praise. 

Once you were both clean, wrapped in the fluffiest towels you could find, Joel led you to your bedroom and draped your robe over your shoulders while he rifled through drawers for the comfy clothes he knew you favoured on nights like this. He froze when he turned back to you, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. 

“Shit,” he said, “We’ve missed our damn dinner reservation.” 

You bit your lip, sheepishly avoiding his gaze as you took your clothes from him. 

Joel squinted at you, catching the shift in your expression. “What?” 

“I canceled it earlier,” you muttered, a shy grin curving your lips. 

His brows lifted. “You did?” 

You shrugged, reaching out to clasp his hand in yours. “I thought we could just have a quiet night at home instead. Just us. Order a pizza or something. I just wanna spend some time with you, Joel, I don’t mind where we do it. I bought you some beers, or we could have some wine- maybe just relax for a bit?” 

Joel only stared at you, the crease between his brows deepening like he was trying to work through what you’d just said. His throat bobbed and his fingers twitched against yours as he let out a shaky breath.

A quiet chuckle slipped past his lips, but there was a slight waver to it. “I’d love that, sweetheart. It sounds perfect.” 

You barely had time to register the movement before he was wrapping his arms around you, tugging you against him so tightly it almost knocked the breath from your lungs. His nose nestled in to your hair as he held you, chest rising and falling in controlled breaths beneath your cheek. 

“You’re so good t’me.” 

Joel had dressed in his sweats and left the room after checking in with you one last time and pressing a kiss to your temple. You agreed to meet him downstairs once you had dressed and dried your hair. 

By the time you made your way down, Joel had cleaned up. The evidence of your earlier tryst had been erased: your shoes, the fishnets and Joel’s clothes were gone. He’d placed your favourite blanket on the edge of the couch and there was an open bottle of wine on the coffee table between two glasses. The bouquet of roses he’d brought home was already in a vase on the side table, and you allowed yourself a second to admire them. 

Joel was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, phone in hand. The sight of him in comfy clothes made your heart ache- you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him in them. He glanced up when you walked toward him, a smile breaking through the tiredness on his features.  “Pizza’s on its way,” he said as you reached for him, tucking your hands under his t-shirt, suddenly struck with the need to feel his bare skin against yours again. 

“Great,” you said, “You wanna come cuddle with me on the couch?” 

He cupped your cheek and his eyes flitted between yours as he looked down at you, his expression overflowing with adoration. 

“I’d love nothing more, darlin’.” 

[infevious]

I NEED a part 2 of that Latino kinich pls pls make it fluffy 😭🙏🏻🙏🏻

APOLOGIES

a/n: pt 2 of this !! probs ooc 😓 im also surprise surprise high as balls again so im probably thinking im writing shit shakespeare himself couldn’t but it’s actually ass. i also have a test tomorrow and need to sleep early today so pls dont hate me for not writing an actual ending i’ll finish tomorrow maybe 😭😭😭

…………………………………………….

The final straw for the hunter was when he saw you and Yaotyl playing around, he hated how the man was touching you, he had tried convincing himself he wasn’t jealous but he knew he was lying to himself. His saurian companion only added salt to the wound.

“Would you look at that! She’s enjoying her time with someone else while you’re over here looking like a kicked puppy- you ever seen her smile that big? Maybe you should just jump off the nearest cliff to end this horrible feeling!”

.

.

.

.

You were walking home after a long day of commissions, the sun was setting and all you wanted to do was rot in bed the rest of the evening. You heard some footsteps behind you but thought nothing of it, multiple people use this path it’s nothing, you kept walking until you felt someone grab your hand and turn you towards them.

It was Kinich. He let go of your hand and gripped your arm, pulling you close to his chest, a little too close, and you could tell he was annoyed.

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

You blinked. Didn’t he tell you you were being annoying? You blinked again.

“I’m not ignoring you..”

“Bullshit” His grip on your arm tightened. “You haven’t talked to me in weeks.”

“I’ve just been..busy..?”

Wow. Best liar in all of Teyvat he’s surly going to be convinced.

“Uh huh? Busy with what? Busy with everyone in Natlan that you can’t even spare me a glance?”

“Why do you care? I thought you said I was annoying?”

He bit his lip and looked down for a moment before looking back at you.

“I did…but you’re my f-” He sighed, mentally cursing at himself for caring so much. He didn’t really mind you ignoring him for the first couple of days, but when he saw you were with another man he realized how bad he regretted it, he realized his feelings for you.

“You’re my friend. I just needed some time alone.”

You felt your throat start to burn a bit. Friend. You should have known, you never had a chance with him. You swallowed the feeling back and looked down.

“Okay”

Okay? That’s it? You’ve ignored him for almost a month and the only thing you can say is okay?

He gripped your arm tighter and pulled you closer.

“Is that all you’re going to say? Okay?”

“Well what do you want me to say!?”

That came out a little louder than expected but whatever..all you wanted right now was to rush home and lock yourself in your room.

“Anything other than okay!”

“I’m sorry for listening to you and giving you the space you wanted!”

He scoffed and let you go, crossing his arms and looking away. He knew he should just apologize to you so you two could go back to before and get past this.

“..I’m sorry”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t really expect that.

“What?”

“I said i’m sorry alright?”

.

.

.

.

After a while, it was actually a day and a half, you two were finally back to normal, you just tried to tone it down a bit. He noticed that, but he also noticed how your hand stopped brushing against his when you would walk together, how you seemed slightly less cheery when talking to him, how you stopped looking at him with a small little smile when he would talk.

He was walking back to a customer after finishing a commission when he heard your voice.

“-I don’t know how long I can take it anymore..! I can’t get rid of my stupid feelings! How do I make them go away!?”

He saw you shake Mualani as you looked like you were about to burst out into tears. Feelings? What feelings? Who were you talking about? His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to listen to what you were talking about.

“Uh- how are you sure he doesn’t like you back?”

“He was annoyed at me for spending time with him! He called me a friend..!”

Wait. Was it him you were talking about? He almost started praying to the archons then and there that it was him, he was ready to pay what ever price if you could return his feelings. He was snapped back into his thoughts as he heard Mualani confirm.

“Kinich is a weird guy, who knows?”

“Lani don’t get my hopes up..”

She gave you a small smile and then noticed Kinich standing a few feet behind you. She saw how his cheeks were slightly blushed and raised her eyebrow. He realized that she saw him and quickly left to find the customer.

Interesting.

…………………………………………….

[mgu-h]

What are your top 3 moments of Max and Lando from 2024? A little late, but I’m quite curious lol

Or in general, what are your favorite moments of them of all time?

my chronological study is not yet caught up, so i can't really do 2024 justice, but i've covered a lot of ground from 2013 to early 2023, and there's just so many things that stand out!!! not just moments but like.. idk. whole parts of their lives. i'll check some dates {edit: and add 20 gifs and a video}, but otherwise, off the dome, my favorite moments lmao let's do this:

max's story about seeing lando driving his kart at 9yrs old, the small details about the location and lando's helmet that he remembered, the fondness in his tone of voice as he talked about it, and calling himself a day one fanboy of lando

there's this old old post on max's insta where he's just starting out, with lando commenting on it in a supportive or teasing way... just seeing how long they've been friends, all the footage of them karting, sharing podiums, and goofing off in tiny race suits together, it's not one moment that i love but the pool of shared experiences and competition

jumping forward in time a bit, that time max said that lando had taken care of him after he stopped racing and wasn't sure what to do, it's just important to me that max showed up just playing on lando's twitch first. lando opened up this whole path for him, ultimately hiring him, shaping the trajectory of the rest of his life

there's some deeply notable streaming early on in lando's house, a favorite being the absurd bathrobe tech support, with lando fresh out of the shower and all up in max's personal space. and then idk it's a small detail but there's times where max and lando are wearing the same glasses and i love that

i can't pick a favorite of the quadrant videos filmed in summer and fall 2021, there's so many deeply endearing and iconic moments, like the hot sauce video, the lie detector (big reaction), the pink 'how well do you know' video (max's absurdly fond tone of voice saying "useless" is my first memory of him, from years ago), the outtakes of the part of the elgato video where they kick niran out of their house

there's connor's august twitch stream from holiday with them all tipsy and topless and deeply tanned on a boat. lando hovering around max's back, making max smell his underarm when he complained. it reminds me of pics i saw of lando shirtless in a paddling pool which i assume were taken by max.

the way they were wearing each other's golf shirts on the course in that one fall golf stream, i think it was shortly after sochi. the whole recurring bit with them sharing a wardrobe, the "whose shoes are those?" "whose joggers are those? "whose hoodie is that?" bit, the fact that it kept going even after they moved apart

those key december 2021 streams, the loooong halo stream where chat called max both lando's dog and his wag. just the wild argument they had about max moving to monaco, with max saying lando'd get lonely, offering to be a house husband almost, and 'joking around' like 'he doesn't want me, we're done, etc..

then the sweet sad energy of the last stream in the house, where lando picks a fight about who's better at golf and uses his keyboard clicking to annoy max. for some reason i love this fight the most out of everything, i've listened to it dozens of times probably, i even transcribed it to see what the sentence length looked like before i started writing rpf. it's just like the perfect quintessence of their dynamic.

max showing up on the mclaren tiktok account in lando's hotel room in dubai the next month jan 2022, having gone on the trip with lando and his gf

quadrant leaving a small cardboard cutout of max in lando's office, after lando was a pest while max tried to plan the office remodel surprise for him. then lando using it to tease max, and lying about throwing it out, keeping it around, and still having it in 2025

the infamous and perfect moment in july where max covered up lando's head after the rally car passed by because lando fully didn't do it himself and max either saw that or knew that he wouldn't do it and that he needed to do it for him

lando being a dj on max's twitch, the sleepover vibes, the way they support him in his new hobby and validate him

max's 2022 singapore trip and the incredible tikok where lando answers the hotel door wearing the exact same clothes as max but in inverted colors, where he slaps max very hard on what looked like the inner thigh, where max bites his knuckle with nerves and is proud of lando's p4

[i've got the winter and spring content to go through in detail, i don't really know what happened here]

the march 2023 max twitch stream with lando in the blue hoodie (kitten, max smelling his underarm, lando losing his mind about a memory of max when he was drunk). i'm pretty sure in that stream, max's dad comes in and asks if lando is staying the night, in a way that communicates he's done it a hundred times before and is welcome to do it a hundred more

the april 2023 twitch streams where lando wanders around, laying with bare feet kicked up on the bed, massaging his back (each others' backs, max returns the favor), lint rolling himself. around this time P says on stream that max is lando's boyfriend, she also calls him his slave and labels what they share as an addiction(!!!)

i know they go to motogp together in the summer of this year, i remember the adorable almost kinda matching outfits. there's also that footage of max looking at lando asleep in that egg pod thing from around then too

[i don't really know yet if/what nortrell happened in late 2023]

then like, 2024, i have so much to catch up on, but i was aware of him by the end of the season. obviously the infamous post disaster races had that gentle parenting from max about eating and sleep while playing tarkov, which was lovely, and then the way max defended him at crucial parts of the season and like asked 'where's the backing' and got angry on his behalf was good too.

2025...... so much so far. the "you said my name so I know you're lying." the "stop fucking kissing her max and hurry the fuck up." connor's "his brother and his boyfriend" comment. the fact that i got jumpscared by max streaming from lando's office again. the pushups. watching the super bowl. just so much.

that was more than i expected to remember lmao anyway, nortrell rights

[demigodsanswer]

A little tattoo au smut for your Sunday. Basically, I meant to write the percabeth first date per someone's request, but I ended up just jumping right into their night together. I just really wanted Annabeth to sit on his face idk.

~

Annabeth sipped the last of her wine and found her courage as Percy signed the check. 

“I had a great time tonight,” she told him, racing across the table for his hand. 

“Me too,” he said, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. 

“Should we get out of here?” She suggested, trying to remember how she used to flirt. 

Percy smiled and looked away from her, a bit pink in the cheeks. Annabeth held her ground and waited. 

“I’d invite you to my place,” he started, “but truth be told, I’m staying with my parents at the moment, while I look for my own apartment.” 

Annabeth smiled. “Well, that’s alright,” she promised, “Sophia is with Luke tonight. As long as you don’t judge how dirty my place is --” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Percy assured her. 

~

Annabeth poured them each a glass of wine when they got upstairs. They made it though about four sips each before they were on each other. Annabeth couldn’t remember who kissed first, and it really didn’t matter. All she knew now was that Percy’s hand was under her shirt as her hands unbuttoned his. 

“I should tell you, I haven't had sex since Sophia was conceived,” Annabeth said. 

“Don’t worry, they haven’t changed it much,” Percy promised. Annabeth laughed and kissed him again. “Honestly, I haven’t been with anyone in two years, between the research and job market …” 

That was actually quite comforting. 

“The bedroom is that way,” Annabeth said, pointing to the small hallway. 

Percy pulled her off the couch and started to lead her there. Annabeth would have to thank Thalia for her forward thinking with the condoms that morning. Turns out, they were going to see some use. 

~

For going two years without sex, Percy certainly didn’t seem out of practice. His fingers, tongue, and cock knew all kinds of ways to please her. It was a miracle really. She’d always enjoyed sex for the intimacy of it, the comfort of another person there, the feeling of them reaching places in her so few ever had. But with Percy … Well, it turned out sex could also feel really, really good too. 

The sheets under them were damp from her pair of messy orgasms, one as he fingered her during foreplay, and one while he was inside her.

Inside her. He’d felt so nice, hot and hard, moving at such a perfect pace for her. She’d started on top, riding him until she came, and then he’d flipped them over. He’d started at a pace she’d describe as “making love” before really taking her hard, whispering all kinds of filthy things, and showering her with compliments. He’d cum inside her (well, in the condom, really), and the pulse of it was comforting and familiar. 

Afterwards, they just laid there, breathing and sweaty, ignoring the dampness on the sheets and the smell of sex in the air. Annabeth rested in the crook between his arm and his side, her head on his shoulder as traced some of her tattoos with his finger. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her. 

“You’re pretty handsome yourself,” she said back.

“I’m serious. That first moment I saw you last week, I mean, I was done for,” he told her. It didn’t sound like a line. Anyway, what would be the point of a line now anyway? He already had her in bed. 

“Oh really?” She asked, nudging him on. 

“I knew I had to ask you out from the first second I saw you,” Percy said. “At the very least, I needed to find all your tattoos.” 

She leaned back a little bit. “Feel free to have a look around,” she said, laying on her back, her body outstretched so he could look her over. 

Percy kissed his way slowly down her arm, then across her chest, stopping periodically to ask if there was a story behind a specific tattoo. Sometimes there was: a favorite moment from a book, a symbol she held dear. Sometimes, she just liked the idea. 

She had a few tattoos on her hips that had been stretched out and cut into during pregnancy. Percy ran a delicate finger over the scar tissue that ran across her bikini line. 

“C-Section?” He asked her, his green eyes curious and sympathetic. 

Annabeth nodded. “She didn’t want to come out,” she told him. “I was in labor for … oh, fifty-five hours I think? In the hospital for forty-something.” 

“Jesus,” he sighed, “you’re a hero.” 

Annabeth laughed and ran her fingers through his already messed-up hair. Percy seemed to lean into her touch, and she was confident that if humans could purr, he would have. 

“I sat at home with Luke watching Lord of the Rings extended editions, just waiting for the contractions to get closer together. By the time Return of the King was over, it was probably still too early to go to the hospital, but I didn’t want to watch the Hobbit movies, so I demanded we leave,” Annabeth said with a laugh. “Then it was forty hours of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.” 

“I mean, a classic,” Percy agreed. 

“Grade A TV, for sure. Anyway, she was supposed to go this way,” she held out her hands straight, resting them in between her thighs to mimic the birth canal, “but she went like this,” she turned her hands slightly to the right. “Her little head was just bumping up against my uterus and they couldn’t get her to move. She was trying to come out neck first. If it was even a hundred years ago, we both probably would have died. After a while, she was in distress, and within minutes I was being cut open.” 

Percy kissed the top of her hand, before crawling back up to kiss her face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m glad she made it here okay,” he said. 

Annabeth smiled. “Yeah, me too.” 

They kissed again, lazy and tender. He stayed on top of her, but his weight off of her, so all she felt of him was what warmth radiated off his body. She let her hands explore him a bit more. 

She had discovered another tattoo on his side. She’d panicked at the sight of a woman’s name, but she’d simply laughed and explained: “My mother.” 

“Oh,” she breathed out, relieved. His single mom. Who he was living with. And then she wondered if she was simply fulfilling some naughty role-play for him. Don’t be an asshole, she chided herself. 

Now her hands roamed past the tattoo to the fat of his waist and hips, and then to his ass. She’d caught him flexing plenty, and knew some of it was taut muscle when he felt like showing it off. But she preferred him squishy. 

“Can you roll over?” He asked between kisses. 

She pulled back as much as she could with her head still on the pillow. 

“Oh?” She asked, eyes wide, smile intrigued. 

He laughed a little. “Sorry, I just meant. I want to see your other tattoos. I assume you’ve got more on the other side?” 

“Oh, right,” she said with a laugh, “sure.” 

She rolled over and let him inspect her. There was a rose on her shoulder. That had been one of her first tattoos, when she was more into color. It was pink with a long stem. She’d only been nineteen when she got it. People said it looked like the rose from Beauty and the Beast, and they were right, but that hadn’t been intentional at the time. 

When she was confident enough in Frank’s work as he graduated from Thalia’s apprentice, she lent him her mostly-blank back to do a traditional serpent tattoo. It was actually cool as hell. But it didn’t have any real meaning, besides Frank getting to actually do it. It had healed pretty well too, although he had since touched it up for her twice. 

The only other thing of note was the smiley face on her right ass cheek. Percy’s attention caught that one right away. He poked it. 

“You’ve got a happy butt,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. 

“That was my first tattoo,” she lamented. 

“Why a smiley butt?” He asked. 

“I lost a bet,” she told him, before burying her face in her pillow. “I was so sure I wasn’t going to lose.” 

“Dare I ask what it was over?” He asked. 

“That I could lose my anal virginity by the end of Freshman year,” she said, embarrassed more than she maybe ever had been in her life.

There was a brief pause, before: “Wait, not a single man at Harvard wanted to do you in the ass?” He sounded shocked, angry, and outraged for her. 

“Right?!” She said, rolling over a bit. She’d tried to lie to her roommate about it, claiming that it had happened, but the holes (ha) in her story started to emerge too quickly. Eventually, she had to confess. “I think I intimidated all of them,” Annabeth said. 

“Probably,” Percy agreed. “Thankfully, I’m not intimidated,” he said, kissing her smiley face. 

Annabeth hummed, curious. “Oh?” She asked, innocent. “I don’t usually let men do me in the ass on the first date,” she told him. 

He kissed her other cheek. “No, but it would have saved you about fifty-five hours of labor if you did,” he teased. 

Annabeth gasped with faux-indignation, rolling over and pushing him onto his back to straddle him. They were close to the other edge now. She’d almost rolled them off completely. 

Percy was just laughing though as she held him to the mattress, her hands pinning his shoulders. 

“You’re impertinent,” she said. 

He just kept smiling. “Oh, I sure am,” he promised.   

~

She didn’t let him fuck her in the ass, at least not yet. She hadn’t done that in ten years, and she wanted to actually impress him tonight. Because if Percy Jackson never called her again, she’d have Thalia hunt her cousin down for her. Annabeth was absolutely determined to have a second, third, and fourth date with him at least. 

Percy wasn’t ready for another round. He looked a bit sheepish when she touched his still-soft cock, as if it was abnormal for him to not be hard again ten minutes after orgasm. Annabeth just kissed him gently, as if to assure him it was okay. 

Percy’s hands gripped her thighs and tried to coax her up towards his face. 

“Are you sure?” Annabeth asked, hovering over him. 

“So sure,” Percy said, trying to pull her down. She still hovered a bit, close enough that he could lick her clit. But after a few teasing flicks of his tongue, Percy pulled on her a bit harder. “Sit down,” he said, his tone commanding and confident. It thrilled her from her chest down into her lower belly and compelled her to listen. She sat down then, careful not to put all of her weight on his neck. Birth had left her with a bit of a Pixar-mom body, not the slender, narrow hips and thighs she’d been used to in her early twenties. But Percy didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to worship her thighs and the cunt between them. 

Annabeth hadn’t sat on someone's face in years. Truth be told, she hadn’t had sex with someone since Luke. She’d had a few dates, but the men she’d gone out with hadn’t interested her, and the one woman had been asexual. (Annabeth had introduced her to Thalia, and they went out for three years, so it worked out for someone). Luke hadn’t been into eating her out. He never seemed particularly that sexually interested in her at all. Even now, his rare kiss was more of a desperate search for love and family than sexual gratification. It was almost funny that the two of them had conceived. 

But Percy … 

“Oh, god,” Annabeth moaned, pressing her hand against the wall to steady herself. Percy knew what he was doing. He’d discovered what she liked during the foreplay -- a gentle pattern of circles until the pressure built, then a little suck, and then a little more. 

Percy fingers gripped the fat of her ass tight as she rode his tongue. The pressure was building low in her pelvis. She’d already cum twice tonight. A third time sounded lovely. So nice. So needed. Percy sucked on her clit a little more, and Annabeth rolled her hips against him. 

“More,” she pleaded. Percy curiously sucked on her clit again. “Yeah, yeah,” she confirmed. Percy did what he was told, and Annabeth closed her eyes to focus purely on the feeling. “Oh,” she yelped, closer, closer -- 

Annabeth gripped Percy’s hair as her thighs clenched around his head as she came. She didn’t expect to squirt again; she usually needed something inside her, not just on her clit, but oh, his tongue had been so perfect on her, her body didn’t give her any choice or any warning. Maybe it did, and she was simply too satisfied to notice. Her orgasm soaked her thighs, the pillow under her, and Percy.  

Oh fuck -- 

“Jesus,” she said, climbing off of him quickly, “I’ve waterboarded you.” Percy was just laughing as he wiped at his face. Annabeth’s own face felt scalding hot; she was sure she’d gone red from her forehead to her chest. “I’ll get you a --” 

Percy just grabbed her hand and tugged her down towards him. He pulled her into a kiss, deep, filthy, his tongue slipping into her mouth still tasting like her. Annabeth braced herself on the ruined pillow as he let her taste herself on him. 

“How are people not lining up around the block to date you?” Percy asked her, before pulling her in again, this time just pecking her lips. “You’re fucking magnificent.” 

Annabeth just moaned a little, not exactly sure what to say. So, she chose to just watch Percy move his hand from her face to his cock, hard again, pink tip straining up towards the ceiling. He stroked himself slowly. 

Annabeth pressed kisses into his neck, before sucking gently on a sensitive spot she’d found. 

“Do you want me to do something about that?” She asked, nodding back towards his cock. 

Percy nodded. “If you’re up for a little more …” 

Annabeth tied her hair back. “I am,” she promised. 

(When he warned her he was about to cum, she pulled back and let him finish on her face. It was only fair).

[soundwaveissuperior]

Okay so I'm been having this shit brewing in my head for a while and I keep coming back to it. I want to be like G1 but also a mix of other continuities as well Like TF Prime, TF One, Etc.

This is my shitty writing, I'm sorry if it's bad I just want to put it out there. If you have any ideas of what I should call this au please comment.

So Imagine this, we know that Megatron is like the leader of the decepticons right? He’s the founder so just like what if Orion becomes the leader of the decepticons instead?? Hey, it is a thought. I'm not saying he is the founder. Like how the normal story goes Orion pax the archivist meets Megatronus the gladiator, they talk about ideas and the future, Megatronous constructs the Decepticons, Orion joins him. ( I always liked the thought that Orion was one of the first decepticons of Megs group before becoming prime.)

They have two different perspectives. Orion thinks that they can peacefully have an audience with the Council/Senate (idk which one to use.) to take down and rebuild this terrible system they live by while Megatronous on the other hand thinks that they won’t listen to words and only by action (VIOLENCE!! ETC.) Btw of course this is an OpMeg so yeah they are together, there so trusting in one another and collaborate so well. Big Gladiator Mech and Lil Archivist bot

So to make this hurt, Orion was able to get an audience with the Council/Senate by the help of Sentinel “Prime”. And after convincing Megs to go see them to present his dream to dismantling the oppressive caste system. But of course the Naive Orion didn’t know that the Council/senate was using him to lure the Leader of the decepticons into a trap. They didn’t want him to spread anymore of these ‘ideas’.

(I want sentinel to be a part of this cuz I love and hate that bastard.)

Orion comes with Megatronus to speak with the senate and Sentinel.

(Okay so I'm still having Orion become prime but not like how the Senate will make him prime. Sentinel Took the matrix for himself but the Matrix doesn’t respond to him, so it is just a piece of junk without a Worthy Mech to attune to it. He still uses it as a way for publicity, it's not like citizens really knows how the Matrix works anyways.)

Orion is standing next to him as he backs up Megatronus words as he explains to them.

After this the Senate mocks him, Sentinel Truly explains to them why Lower caste should stay below them. They are born to serve the superior and die when useless, it is their Primus given purpose. Orion interrupts the Sentinel as he is shocked and angry at his words, “any bot can be more than what they're supposedly ‘born to do’.”

He uses Megatronus as an example, how he became more than a Miner, a Gladiator, he learned how to read and write, wrote literature that moved people, that anyone is the same at spark no matter their frame type. In a quick swift movement Sentinel who had enough of the words of this archivist went to silence him.

As he grabs him by the throat and throws him across the room. Megatronous tried to stop him but was then restrained by Guards. Sentinel tells them both how stupid they are. That what he says is right, that he is a prime and there not and the people will listen to him and not some nobodies. ( Basically Nuh uh Im prime so i get to do what ever da fuck i want , you poor ass bitches)(dude not even a fucken prime like brother shut the fuck up)

Orion coughs as he slowly rises up from the ground. He wobbles a bit before speaking. “You may be a prime but I won’t let you mock him or put anyone beneath you anymore. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. They are more than their function!” As he finishes that statement a low rumbling sound emits from Sentinel's chest and a low blue glow seeps out. The Matrix recognizes a worthy mech to attune to.

Sentinel baffles tires to keep the relic inside as he panics. The relic bursts out his chest as it makes its way towards Orion. He grits his teeths in pain as he orders the guards to terminate him to keep him from getting the relic. Shots fire as Orion tries to run, the Matrix stops and floats waiting for its chosen welder to claim it.

His left arm is shot off his body and he takes a hit at his knee. Orion cries out for Megatronous as he falls to the ground again. Megatronous finally gets out of the guard's hold, tearing them apart and runs towards him. Sentinel huffs in pain as he slowly walks towards Orion who is crawling pathetically to the Matrix.

With a blaster ready he points it towards the crawling mech. “ why couldn't you be a good lil mech just stay ignorant”. As he fires Megatronous throws Sentinel taking the shot. Orion shouted in horror. Megatronus collapses as smoke emits out a gaping hole near his spark.

He bleeds heavily as Orion crawls towards his injured beloved. A large servo goes up to cradle his face “ Please, don’t leave, I can't lose you!” Orion begs. Megatronous wipes his tears as he speaks “Do not cry my little one, I will not leave you. I will always be with you my spark”. Megatronous gives him one last kiss as his frame slowly grays. “ No Nononononono, no please my champion please” he cries.

Yeah again this is just an idea of how Megatronus is going to die, I might change it, who knows. So then Orion filled with resentment towards Sentinel. Like how D-16 became Megatron due anger building up inside as he was lied to slave away his entire life, for Orion it is more of him believing in something, that there is good in people and no need to lean towards violence but to be betrayed by the system that he relied on, he experience a violation of trust. Especially when the person he idolizes hurts the ones he loves. Pretty much breaks you and how you see the world around you.

I want Orion to feel terrible, just terrible, to blame himself (which isn’t new) for the death of his beloved champion, for killing the mech that people look up to, the mech that people put their faith in, the one who united everyone to strive for more.

After Megatronous dies, he takes the Matrix and feels a sense of duty to fulfill their dream as he feels the need to redeem himself. Then he'll step up and take the role as the leader of the decepticons, he believes he needs to bear this responsibility all to himself, to punish himself for his actions for leading him to his death due to his naivety.

If you have any questions don't be afraid to send an ask, I can elaborate if you like.

[lesmiix]

Hii! Can you write something where the reader's friend dies in one of the games and Hyun-Ju comforts them?

ONE SHOT: I don't know what I would do without you.

Hyun ju x g/n reader.

Summary: One of your closest friends died during the mingle game, so Hyun-ju tried to comfort you

Warnings: Death, angst, panic attack, comfort, g/n reader, g/n friend.

f/n->friend name.

a/n: I've never written an angst one shot so I hope it's not too bad.

English's not my first language so there may be some grammatical and orography errors!

Requests for Hyun-ju are open 💗

Enjoy!!!🫶

You entered a big room, with some slight warm lights, there was a platform in the middle, with some horses, as a carousel.

A voice coming from a loudspeaker ordered you to get on the platform.

The voice started to explain the rules of the "mingle" game.

You were with your little group, f/n, Hyun-ju, young mi, Geum-ja and Yong-sik. F/n and you were childhood friends, you met each other as your parents were very close friends.

You both started joking about how much you liked to go to amusement parks as a kid.

Suddenly, the lights turned off, and the carousel began to spin. A children's song started playing and all of the memories of your childhood began to pop on your mind. You started to get a little bit anxious, holding your friends hand as hard as you could, making sure they didn't go anywhere.

The spinning stopped and you heard a number.

"Four" the female voice of the speaker said.

you started looking around, searching young mi and hyun ju, as Geum-ja and Yong-sik went with player 456 and 001. You started running towards an empty little room and pushed everyone inside.

The door locked as the 30 seconds counter finished.

"Is everyone okay?" f/n asked as they looked at you, watching the scared look on your face.

Young mi nodded while playing with her hands, obviously nervous, as you could hear the guns shooting outside.

A few minutes passed by and the door unlocked.

Everyone came out and you saw the older woman and get son, running towards you.

"Oh we were so worried about you" player 149 said while hugging you all.

"it's okay, we just have to stick together and have good coordination so we can win the game" you said while cleaning the slight sweat of your forehead.

You got again on the carousel.

the number was 6

You rapidly counted the members of your group.

"Me, f/r, Hyun-ju, Young mi, Geum-ja, Yong-sik" you muttered as counting with your fingers.

"we're six" you said out loud, while scanning which room were empty.

You ran, there were not enough rooms for every group so you had to be quick.

You opened a door. The room was full.

The counter was on for 7 seconds, you started panicking, you looked everywhere just to see hyun ju opening a door.

"Over here!" She yelled as everyone started running towards her.

Everyone started to get in the room, but a single player came in aggressively, taking f/r from their jacket, and throwing them out the room, it was player 333, who was all covered in blood.

He locked the door.

Before you could even react to what was happening you heard a shot. Staining your face with your friends blood.

"f/r?" you muttered, as you began to walk towards the door peephole. Just to see your friend on the ground, with a single shot between their eyebrows.

You looked at Myung-gi, still were too in shock to react, but the desire to beat him up was in your body.

The voice announced that the game finished, so you could return to the bedroom.

You didn't move a single muscle. Everyone came out the room, leaving you behind, except Hyun-ju.

You sat on the ground, breathing heavily, hands shaking, legs shaking, vision blurry. you didn't even realize who left and who stayed with you, you were in complete shock.

"Hey, y/n, breathe" Hyun-ju said, kneeling in front of you. She held you by your shoulders while she talked softly.

A soft voice came out her lips "Y/n, look at me".

Your eyes looked at hers.

"Breathe with me" She whispered, taking your hand in hers and pressing it on her chest, so you could feel her calm breathing.

While trying to match your breathing with hers, you started to feel more calm, you didn't say a word but you noticed how warm tears started to fall down your cheeks.

"You're doing amazing, keep going"

Once your breathing came back to normal, you finally let out some whines, slowly melting into Hyun-ju's arms, crying.

She just hugged you, she didn't talk, she didn't put any kind of pressure on you, she just let you vent on her shoulder, wetting her shirt.

You felt how her big hands were caressing your back, making you feel safe, heard.

"Thanks..." You muttered as you pulled away from her.

"It's okay, is the least I can do" She uttered, leaving a soft peak on your forehead, with her fingers brushing away some stray hairs that were on your face

The girl helped you stand up and gave you one last tight hug, long enough for you to notice the fast beat of her heart, before you both started walking in silence towards the bedroom.

You don't know what you would do without her.

a/n: I feel it was really rushed 😭

(I don't know how to write fight scenes y'all)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

[mokeonn]

I think that the 2010's media landscape of Buzzfeed articles about plotholes in disney movies, Cinemasins critiques, and Watchmojo Top Ten scenes in movies that make no sense has truely ruined a lot of media. People are afraid that their work will be torn down if they dare leave a single thing up in the air, if they dare ask their audience to suspend their disbelief.

All too often nowadays I see stories (especially fantasy), take the time to explain how every small aspect of the world works and how it all logically makes sense. The constant time stopped to explain why an event happened, how this object works, or why this is important to the characters. It's just really not needed and it honestly makes a lot of stories worse.

I am of the opinion that the best stories truly just drop you into their world and explain nothing. They just take you through the story of this world and you just have to accept it and continue on. "When he became king, the land became barren." I don't want the story to stop and explain why this is, or how it happened, I want us to move on so we can just assume that the king has such rancid vibes that everything died.

[nostalgia-tblr]

I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.

[cetoddle]

i do like writing in second person. but i hate trying to get other people’s opinions on it because they either don’t actually understand what i mean or try to make it about h*mestuck

[girlthingdecay]

.

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

[cringefailfagcat]

the way one of my friends offered to get people drinks. one of the others asked for a rum and coke, so i asked for a vodka lemonade n then they stood right behind me and went 'is olive allowed to drink?' it killed something inside me a little bit. like i wasn't episoding i've been responsible about my drinking recently don't take away my autonomy when i'm capable of looking after myself please. i know i barely can but don't. don't make this one of the few things people will actually talk to me for

[sastielsfandom]

I see a lot of advice for artists to draw every day even if it's "lazy" art. Doodle, throw color wherever, make some lines, just create!

That can be applied to writing as well. Forget about grammar, forget about plots, just throw some words down, write whatever! Whatever is in your mind, just do it.

It's the practice of it. It gets easier as you keep doing it. It doesn't have to be a masterpiece, let it be bad, let it be silly, let it be whatever, just let it be.

I've been doing my best to write every day and writing a thousand words used to drain me, now it feels like a warm up.

Writing anything used to take me a bit to recover and now I'm jumping in between stories and trying to tell myself to slow down the ideas aren't going anywhere.

It just takes time. And trust a lot of it has been bad writing and you have to accept that not everything will be good. But I'd rather create for passion over greatness any day.

So, open up a journal or a google doc, notes app, whatever is at your disposal and write something. Doesn't have to be long, just try.

[orcelito]

ok so like. between Sentido and In the Next Life, the kudos discrepancy is obvious (it being a tristamp vs trimax fic)

but honestly, the engagement with In the Next Life is honestly rly encouraging. a 10.8% comments to kudos percentage for Sentido vs 30.8% for ITNL

it was a lil discouraging at first how few kudos it got bc i just got off the high of super fast growing Sentido. but like, when you think about it it makes a lot of sense. the general tristamp fic with a simple setup & effective character exploration using a structure i havent seen otherwise.

vs heavy heavy HEAVY trimax spoilers fic. like this fic is made For Me to cope with reading trimax. but for ppl who dont read as fast as me or havent started it after watching tristamp. if they care about spoilers, this is not what theyre gonna be reading

so it makes sense! and im no longer disappointed, especially considering how sweet all my commenters have been.

im just gonna keep goin at it. im writing this for Me, and either it'll get more attention or it wont. it's enough for the people who are here now to continue this journey with me.

[hailsatanacab]

Sorry, but this was such a cool idea that I couldn't help myself - really enjoyed the premise so much!!! Hope you enjoy this little ficlet 😊😊

--

"So it's settled, then. Captain Marvel, Red Hood, Constantine, you'll be heading out tomorrow to deal with—"

"Tomorrow?"

"Is there a problem with that, Constantine?" Batman asks, his voice flat, because there’s no way anyone should have a problem with one of his orders.

Look.

John won't lie, he wasn't exactly paying attention to everything that had been said in the meeting, but in his defence, it was a waste of time!

From what he can see, the issue isn't anything more than a disgruntled witch acting out, and even if it did turn out to be something more, the residual magic left on the bodies didn't exactly scream power. Any one of the JLD would be able to deal with it alone, it seemed like overkill to send in both him and Captain Marvel. He doesn't even know what the Bats was thinking of, sticking a guy like the Red Hood with them, too. Yeah, the murders happened in "his territory" but what's he going to do, shoot a spell? Sure.

"I've got a thing tomorrow, can't do it."

"You've got a thing."

Christ alive, he's so condescending. John's eternally thankful that the JLD and the JL don't cross paths much.

"Yup. So, I'll leave it in your capable hands, Captain, and I'll just—"

He doesn't even get half way out of his seat before the big, bad Bat shoots him back down with a glare.

"Need I remind you why you're here, Constantine? You can't just pick and choose which missions you'll accept. Justice doesn't wait until you have the free time."

"You don't even need me there, the Captain is more than enough—"

"What could you possibly have to do that's more important than the mission?"

Thankfully, Captain Marvel intervenes before John can so much as suck in a breath.

"I'm more than happy to do it without John, Batman, it doesn't seem like a particularly hard case. He deserves some time off, it's fine."

Captain Marvel, always the gentleman. At least he has a head on his shoulders and can see that this case is bullshit. Barely even warrants a meeting, let alone three JL members.

"If it's any consolation, B, I don't particularly want them in Crime Alley, either." Red Hood finally stirs, his helmet shifting to look towards Batman.

"There you go, see! They said it's fine, so it's fine!"

"It's not fine, Constantine, this is no longer about the case and is now about your constant need to disobey and undermine orders."

"Undermine orders? Undermine you, more like, you stuck up toff. You really think you can make me do what you want just because you 'order' it? Piss off, mate."

Oh, John is really going to need to vent after this. There is no way he's not getting tomorrow off. If he doesn't get to blow off some steam tomorrow then he might just blow up in Batman's face. Actually, it'll be cathartic either way... Except blowing off steam tomorrow doesn't come with the same lasting consequences as a pissed off Batman does.

"I've had the date marked off as leave every year for the past five years, Batman. I'm not missing it for some Mildred Hubble wannabe."

"Tell me why it's so important for you to have it off."

Honestly, John can see why half the population of Gotham is in Arkham. Having to deal with the Bats is going to make him lose his mind, too. Well, fine, if he wants to know so badly, then let him know. If the explanation isn't enough for him, then John's just going to teleport out of here in the next ten minutes. Fuck him.

"It's War Day, Batman. I ain't fucking missing War Day."

"You're going to war?"

"It's War Day tomorrow?" Captain Marvel's chair crashes to the floor as he leaps up, laughing in surprise. "Batman, can I take tomorrow off, too? John, can you take me? I can't believe you never told me you got invited to War Day!"

"What is War Day?" Batman growls, and really, his constant need to know everything is starting to piss John off. Well, maybe not starting.

"Exactly what it sounds like." John reaches into his pocket to pull out his packet of cigarettes, before he remembers where he is and sadly slides them back. "And I'm not missing it."

"It's legendary in the magic community, Batman." Captain Marvel picks up the explanation, the bright smile still on his face. "It started about seven years ago, when the new High King of the Infinite Realms ascended to the throne."

"There's a new High King of the Infinite Realms?"

"Oh, bloody Nora, this is gonna go well, thank you, Captain." John rolls his eyes and slumps down into his chair. This meeting just got ten times longer. Can't make his escape now, can he? Not now he has to make sure Batman keeps his ugly nose out of Infinite Realms business. He's not ruining this for John. War Day is the one day he looks forward to each year, he'll be damned if he lets Batman fuck that up.

"What? I was just—"

"The report you submitted about the Infinite Realms stated that the king should never be freed from his captivity or he would destroy and enslave the entire universe."

How he manages to retain all of that information, from... eight? Nine years ago? Is beyond him. John actively tries to block out anything older than five.

"Yes, yes, Pariah Dark is a nightmare and won't hesitate to wage war between all dimensions should he ever be released again. But!" John holds up a finger when he sees Batman puff up his chest to argue back again. "But, like Captain Marvel said, there's a new king. He's a bit rough around the edges, a bit young and inexperienced, but he's a good guy. The Infinite Realms have never been more stable."

"A stable Infinite Realms means a stable Material World." Marvel joins in, standing straighter with an earnestness that has his eyes flashing deep as they do when the knowledge of the gods is flowing through him. "High King Phantom is the best thing for the Realms, you don't need to worry."

Batman looks between them both, the ever present frown on his face giving nothing away.

Red Hood just looks bored. Or he's asleep, honestly, John can't tell with that stupid helmet covering the entirety of his face. Actually, perhaps John should get one of those. It would make these meetings go a hell of a lot quicker if he did.

"See?" He says, turning back to Batman. "You don't need to worry, so let me take my day off and everything can be hunky-dory."

"You still haven't explained War Day."

The groan that John lets out isn't very dignified, but to be fair, he's been stuck in this meeting room with Batman and the others for three hours now. They're lucky it's not a stream of swears. Yet.

"It's War Day, Batman. Clue's in the name."

As always, Captain Marvel is his magnanimous self and takes pity on the both of them.

"It's a free reign, all bets off, showdown. For one day a year, every being in the Realms goes to war, Hunger Games style. I've heard it's great."

Red Hood suddenly straightens in his chair, head swivelling to look at Captain Marvel with an interest he hasn't shown throughout the whole of his time in the Watchtower.

"A whole day where people just go apeshit on each other?"

"Yeah," Marvel confirms, eyes wide and voice filled with a wondrous excitement that surprise John a little. Guess everyone needs to let off some steam sometimes.

"Huh." Is the only reply that Red Hood gives, before going back to... staring at the table. Probably playing poker in his helmet or something.

"What's the point of this day?"

Sometimes, John thinks that Batman was put on the earth to push all of John's buttons. Here he is, back on his bullshit, unable to just let things lie. John sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Just a few more hours and he can start having some actual fun. Lord knows he needs it.

"Point? What do you mean?"

"Why does he host this War Day? To boost morale? To train his armies? To accustom his subjects to war? Why?"

"This is why you can't have nice things, Batman. Why are you always looking for an ulterior motive?"

"Why does he host War Day?" Batman repeats in a growl that's louder than he strictly needs, but John supposes it's the only way he can be heard over Red Hood's laughter.

"Because it's fun, you miser." John answers, with a roll of his eyes. "Fighting is how they bond. They beat the everloving shit out of each other until the bell rings, then have a banquet at Phantom's Keep. It's basically Thanksgiving, but everyone's actually happy."

"Phantom's Keep? Does the High King Phantom join in?"

"Of course he does, it's his idea."

Batman tilts his head with a hum, considering, and suddenly John is filled with dread.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, you are not ruining this for me, Batman! Do you know how hard it is to get an invitation to War Day?"

He sinks his head into his hands with a groan, and pushes his palms hard enough into his eyes with the hope that the sudden vision of Batman flying in to interrogate the High King of the Infinite Realms disappears. It doesn't work.

"It's very hard to get an invitation to War Day, you gotta be tight with a ghost from the Realms. I didn't even know Deadman could get in! Which is why I'm very lucky that you're extending your invitation to me, aren't I, John?"

John just groans louder. This is not how he pictured his day going.

For a blessed few seconds, there's silence. John hopes this means everyone's left and that when he opens his eyes it'll all have been a horrible dream and his War Day can go exactly as planned.

As always, his dreams are dashed when Batman opens his mouth.

"There's still the mission tomorrow—"

"Mission's off, B." Red Hood stands up, his voice modulator louder than Batman's exasperated growl. "Turns out I got something I have to do tomorrow."

"And what's that, Red Hood?" Batman doesn't even sound surprised, just resigned.

"Beat the shit outta some ghosts, win me a War Day. You know how it is. Pick me up tomorrow, Constantine?"

"Only if there's no way I can change your mind."

Red Hood just stares, the whites of the eye shapes in his mask the only indication that he's looking at him.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he sighs.

At least he can watch him realise that you can't shoot a ghost. That'll make up for crashing his War Day.

"Constantine."

Great. Great, this is great, this is the best thing that's ever happened to him, because he knows exactly what Batman is going to say and it's fan-bloody-tastic.

"If we participate in this War Day, will we be able to speak to King Phantom?"

"If I say no will you leave me alone?"

The only indication that Batman even hears him (let alone acknowledges him) is a slight deepening of his scowl.

"He'll be fighting all day, and he'll be hosting the banquet. It won't be a private meeting, but I'm sure introductions can be made."

"Then we're all going to War Day."

"Great. A work outing. That's exactly the way I wanted this to go."

Captain Marvel gasps and claps his hands, a huge grin on his face that just makes Constantine, and the Batman, scowl harder. At least someone's happy.

"This is gonna be so much fun! I haven't let loose in ages!"

"You'll be representing the Justice League, Captain Marvel, I shouldn't have to tell you to behave in a respectable manner."

"Don't listen to him, Captain, there's no such thing as a respectable War Day. If you don't bring your best, you'll be laughed out of the Realms, and I will be very embarrassed. Don't embarrass me." He gives a pointed look to Batman. "Either of you."

Batman goes to open his mouth to probably say something stupid and pompous again, but John beats him to it.

"If you're coming with me, I have some ground rules. Number one: don't embarrass me, bring your A game. If you get knocked out in the first five minutes, I don't know you and I'm leaving you there. Number two: don't harass the Ghost King, dear Lord in Heaven, do not harass the Ghost King. He's a good kid, Batman, but he's the ruler of an entire dimension and we don't want to be on his bad side. Let me or Marvel do the talking."

Marvel is nodding along to each of John's points, very seriously taking them onboard. Batman looks like he's biting his tongue and fighting down the urge to argue. That, or he's extremely constipated. It's a toss up, really.

He holds up a third finger.

"And lastly, number three: we're bringing Martian Manhunter."

"Why?" Batman sounds just about as resigned as he does when he's dealing with any of the vigilantes in Gotham.

"Because I know you're not going to stick to rule two. Martian Manhunter is going to be our peace offering when you inevitably fuck it up. Deal?"

"Deal."

John sighs. Great.

"Happy War Day, everyone. See you tomorrow."

War Day

After Danny was crowned he decided that the truce party had to have a counterpart, after all ghosts became friends mostly through battles, and he assumed that one day letting them fight wouldn't be a bad thing, it might even help stir up some grudges.

This was how High King Phantom, ruler of the infinite realms inaugurated the long-awaited "Day of War" or just "War Day", a moment when the Infinite Realms naturally became chaotic; alliances were allowed but it was not advisable to trust on them.

And of course, you were free not to participate, you just had to put a blue or green band on your arm, or a little green clock in the backyard of your haunt so the ghosts would leave you, your haunt or your territory in general alone.

Danny thought of it as some kind of giant paintball day, only with no paintballs and full of aggressive ghosts with various powers, it was especially exciting since everyone knew there would be no hard feelings after it and they would end up in the king's palace eating sweets as little children.

They usually celebrated it on a day close to any celebration related to death in human world, when their powers were especially powerful and therefore everyone could have more fun.

The problem was that since Danny had human friends (liminals?) who came to play, they didn't really consider it weird when some humans fell into the realms by a natural portal, and since they weren't wearing any blue or green arm bands they were definitely in the game.

For their part, the family of bats along with some League allies found themselves literally standing on a field of war where everyone seemed to be going for the kill, Jason was strangely excited about it, as was Damian.

When Dick asked one of the locals for an explanation, a guy on a motorbike threw him into the air laughing and yelled "LET THE HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!"