#sometimes you can make it work if the story is about both of them

[hivemuthur]

Hii! Thank you for replying. I've read five things and loved it so much I wanted to send another ask, and somehow managed to forget to send it, but never mind here it is now.

I was thinking a viktor×reader who were eachother's first everything (early academy days?) but than the reader had to move away for schooling/work, whatever, but now they're back (sometime after the beginning of hextech) and have to work with jayce and viktor. How would that dynamic look like? They didn't breakup over an argument or because they fell out of love but because that's the way life took them. I'm imagining them knowing eachother so well inside and out to the point people just assume they're dating. (Reader making viktors coffee even better than he can himself, viktor making something to fix a problem reader has but never had a solution for, anything really). And I don't know, maybe, possibly, somehow the tension gets to be too much for both of them and they're both more skilled now and whatnot... (I could live without that part tho, is you feel like it doesn't fit)

Sorry if the ask is too complicated, I've just been thinking about it for so long.

I know it's gonna be a while before you can write it but I can't wait to read all of the other requests in the meantime.❤️

~🍒

Dear sweet 🍒 Janna, hello again! Here's your fic!

Same As It Ever Was

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! a bit of everything - fluff, angst (light), smut

word count: 5,6K

author’s note: this is very freeform, an experiment, kinda? A story told in vignettes, little scenes between Viktor and Reader since the moment she came back to the Academy interwoven with their past, sex included. For this to work, I've written current events in Present Tense and the flashbacks in Past Tense.

artist on X (obsessed at this point)

—

You brace yourself with a deep breath—just as you did all those years ago. With lungs full of air, you cross the threshold, and memories come crashing back. Heimerdinger’s lectures, suspicious cafeteria food, noise complaints from your neighbours when Jayce laughed too loud in your dorm. Your dorm itself—its lumpy bed, not enough cabinet space for your books, scattered notes, and long night study sessions with Viktor.

As promised, he and Jayce are there, waiting to pick you up in the entrance hall. Jayce is as giddy as ever—stretching, chattering, busying himself with the announcement board, occasionally pointing at something to get Viktor’s attention. He looks almost the same.

Viktor, on the other hand—nearly still. He leans on a… crutch? It’s a crutch now, huh. You wince at not knowing sooner. An extra brace on his leg as well. His form is more hunched than you remember. He nods at Jayce’s remarks absently, craning his head toward the door, and his face—oh. It lights up when he sees you, just as it used to. Your heart travels all the way up to your throat.

You have to force yourself not to skip. Jayce reaches you first, nearly crashing into you with his embrace. He’s stronger than before, his shoulders broader. Either he’s gotten taller, or Viktor looks shorter. He pats your back and chuckles a mumbled hi—but your eyes are already on Viktor.

He opens his arms in an inviting gesture, and you slide right in. He still fits. He still smells the same, though there’s a lingering trace of oil on his collar. His hair is longer, and his clothes hang looser on his frame, but he feels the same. His neck is just as pretty, his hands just as strong. They go where they used to—one to your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. You take one last inhale before he pulls back, a familiar spark playing in his eyes as he says, "Welcome back."

***

You stared at the schedule board, squinting as you tried to make sense of the messy list. You muttered under your breath, crossing out dates in frustration when the door behind you creaked open.

A voice spoke from behind, calm and precise. “Do you need assistance?”

You turned to see him—tall, neat, with a cane at his side. Pretty hair falling boyishly over his forehead, eyes the colour of liquid gold, two freckles decorating his upper lip and a spot under his eye. His voice was thickly accented, and you suddenly felt dumber than ever.

“What gave me away?” you huffed, managing a smile. “Groaning or furious scribbling?”

“Eh, a little bit of both,” he said, leaning in slightly to point at a part of the board. “Let me help?”

You handed him your notebook, and he made quick work of explaining the confusing schedule. “Looks like we’ll be seeing each other,” he hummed, studying your timetable.

Thank the gods, you thought. Feigning surprise instead of relief, you raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nodded, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. “I’m looking forward to having class with you. I’m Viktor.”

In response, you muttered your name in one breath.

Without another word, he pressed the notebook into your hand, making sure your hands brushed, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, momentarily dumbfounded.

***

You follow Jayce and Viktor through the lab, eyes wide as they show you around. The space is far more impressive than you remember—equipment gleams, wires stretch across the ceiling like intricate veins, and the hum of machinery fills the air. Jayce is practically bouncing with excitement, narrating every little detail with an energy that nearly has you dizzy, while Viktor stays quieter, his gaze focused, occasionally glancing at you as though checking for your reactions.

You’re still trying to wrap your mind around everything when the tour finally ends, and Viktor turns to you with a small smile. “Is there anything you need?” he asks, his voice as smooth and calm as ever.

You consider it for a moment, then sigh dramatically. “I would kill for a coffee.”

Jayce snorts a laugh, “Things don’t really change, do they? Do you want to make it yourself as usual?”

“Of course, as you mentioned—things don’t change, which means I still don’t trust any of you with your coffee-making skills, Jayce,” you reply with a smirk, stepping past him toward the kitchenette area. Viktor watches you closely, but you don’t pay him any mind as you start pulling out the necessary ingredients. “Do you want one?” you throw over your shoulder. And Viktor nods with a smile.

You fall into an easy rhythm, just like old times. Your hands work quickly, grinding the beans, adjusting the water temperature, adding the perfect amount of milk—exactly how you know he likes it. It’s almost like your body remembers, and you can’t help but feel a strange sort of nostalgia as the familiar process comes naturally.

The sound of Viktor clearing his throat breaks your focus, and when you turn, he’s standing a little closer than you expected. His eyes are fixed on the coffee mug in your hands, and the way he’s staring at it almost makes you laugh.

You hand him the cup with a raised brow. “Did I get it right?”

He takes a slow sip, his expression unreadable at first. Then, after a long pause, he sets the cup down carefully on the counter, still looking at you, and says quietly, “Perfect.”

The fact that you remember how to make it, that you remember him—how he likes it, what he’s used to—has him speechless. You watch him for a moment, unsure of what he’s thinking, and the quiet fills the space between you both.

“Just like before,” he says, as though to himself, and you can't help but smile.

***

“Okay, coffee or death,” you whined, pressing your forehead to the desk with exaggerated dramatics. It had been your fourth hour of studying, and the letters on the page began to blur.

“I guess it’s coffee then,” Viktor stretched his legs in the chair before scrambling up to the kettle. “I have no idea how I would explain a corpse in my room.”

“I do not care what motivates your actions, I’m just in dire need of something keeping me alive, or I will fail this class,” you mumbled, still buried in the notes resting under your face. A cup set firmly by your left cheek made your eyebrow quirk, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ah, sweet salvation,” you hummed, grabbing it and taking a sip. And then—

“Viktor. What is this?”

Viktor’s voice was light as he shrugged. “It’s a coffee strong enough to keep you awake until morning.”

You winced, shaking your head slightly. “It’s so strong, it could actually solve the dead body problem you’ve mentioned before.”

He chuckled at that, his gaze still on you. “I suppose that’s one way to describe it.”

You huffed in frustration. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

Viktor only grinned, a spark of amusement in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself out of your chair and crossing the room to the counter. “Alright, move aside.” You grabbed the ingredients with a practiced hand, preparing a new brew. “This is coffee, not the motor fluid you made.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, watching you as you worked. “That’s very thoughtful. I suppose you can always become a barista if you fail the class.”

You turned, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Just wait, Viktor. You’ll see. If I fail, I’ll open my own shop. I’ll call it ‘Professor Coffee’—I’ll make sure the brew is strong enough to wake the dead.”

Viktor’s laugh was soft but genuine. “It seems you’ve got it all figured out.”

***

You reach out, barely muttering, “Could you pass me…” before the tool is already in your hand. You glance at Viktor, who hasn’t even looked up from his work.

“How did you know?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

He taps his temple, a small smile playing beneath his goggles. “I have a good memory.”

***

You frowned at your workbench, trying to put a name to the tool you needed, but your mind blanked.

“Can you pass me the…” you began, unsure, your voice trailing off. You made a small gesture with your hand, hoping Viktor would somehow understand what you meant. Without hesitation, he handed you a wrench.

“No, not this,” you said, waving it off. “The other one?” You gestured again.

Viktor stared at you, brows furrowed, before passing you a screwdriver.

“Not that one either!” you huffed, frustration creeping in—not with him, but because your mind had suddenly decided to fail.

The ritual continued, with Viktor visibly amused as your hand hovered over the various tools he’d passed you. Wrenches, pliers, a hammer, and a couple of screwdrivers littered the workbench. You glanced down at your notes, trying to remember.

Viktor hummed, looking from your desk to your notes. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah. This one?”

Before you could respond, he was standing behind you, lowering the tool into your hand. His arms brushed the sides of your face, and you felt the press of his stomach against your back. For a moment, you froze, breath catching in your throat.

“A calliper,” you whispered.

“Well done, lásko,” Viktor muttered into your ear.

***

The clock announces an hour way past when you’ve expected to be home already. “Should we call it a night?” you ask Viktor, who sits opposite you, a soft smile curling on his lips.

“Some things have changed, then,” he says, tapping his crutch lightly against the floor. “You used to work until figurative death back in the day.”

“Well, I guess I’m getting older,” you reply with a grin, your tone light but laced with a touch of weariness. “What about you? Any big changes?”

He knocks on his brace playfully, lifting the crutch with a small gesture. “Besides the visible?” He chuckles softly. “Not much. Still working to the death.”

Your smile falters for a second, your gaze softening as you roll closer to him on your chair. You rest your hands gently on his knees, studying his face for any signs of deeper discomfort.

“Are you well, though?” you ask, your voice quiet, careful.

Viktor looks at your hands for a moment, then props the crutch on the desk beside him. He squeezes your palms, his grip firm but tender.

“I am now,” he replies, his voice low, almost like a confession. “Haven’t been for a while, but now I’m well. As well as I can be.” He pauses for a beat, then adds with a small smile, “And now that you’re back, I’m even better.”

You brush your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, the intimacy of the gesture. Viktor hums softly, his eyes fluttering closed in response. So familiar, you think, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

You swallow before speaking again, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve missed you.”

Viktor’s eyes remain closed, his expression softening, and when he speaks, his voice heavier now when he sighs. “I know.” He pauses, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ve missed you too.”

***

You and Viktor lay in bed together, tangled in the warmth of each other’s embrace. His arm was draped around you, and the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek was a steady comfort. The room was quiet, unbearably so, when you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent—rich, familiar, like the warmth of him—filled your senses, and you clutched him tighter, as though trying to memorize the feeling of him.

"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin, your breath shaky with the weight of the thought.

Viktor hummed softly in response, his fingers tracing small circles on your back. "I know. I will miss you terribly too." His words were gentle, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you could feel even without looking at him.

He nudged your face with his nose, his palm warm as it cupped your cheek. His touch felt like a promise, though you weren't sure what to expect. "If it's meant to be, we will meet again," he said, his voice low, the words wrapped in the quiet certainty.

A pang in your chest tugged at you, and without thinking, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft, but your heart ached with the knowledge that this might be the last time you felt him close. It tasted with bitter acceptance, as you poured every bit of feeling you had into it, hoping it would somehow last, somehow hold you both together despite the distance that would come.

When you pulled away, your heart felt heavy, like it was breaking in your chest.

***

You both sit on the couch in your apartment, papers and notes scattered around you, a quiet hum of frustration bounces between you. Viktor’s hair is dishevelled, falling into his eyes, and his shirt has found its way half-out of his pants, a few buttons undone. He stares at the pages in front of him, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and determination. You glance over at him, hoping for a breakthrough.

“Any ideas?” you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Viktor groans and rubs his eyes, his shoulders sagging. “You know what… I think I’m getting old too,” he mutters, dropping his hand to your lap. “Can we get back to it when I’ve had at least two hours of sleep?”

He looks at you, his hand settling on your knee absentmindedly, his fingers warm through the fabric of your clothes. You stare at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. He seems so tired, but also so… beautiful. His rumpled clothes and tousled hair remind you of the boy you loved.

“Sure,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You look at him, really look at him. He’s always been handsome, but tonight you can finally see how much time has passed. The wrinkles carving his face deeper, jaw stronger, singular grey strands shining through the chestnut hair. Eyes the same. He doesn’t look like a boy anymore.

Wordlessly, you move closer to him and his gaze doesn’t falter. You cup his cheeks and brush your thumb over his lip. And then, your mouth comes close to his, into a soft brush, trembling and tentative. And Viktor responds with a hand sliding up your thigh and a tilt of his head. He cranes his neck and closes the little distance left between you with a sigh of relief.

His free hand slides up to your neck, pulling you in as his mouth parts and tongue joins to wrestle with yours. He gasps when you bite his lower lip and hums, as his palm slides behind to cup your ass. Fully in his grasp, he press yourself more onto him, fingers tangling into his hair, coaxing small sounds out of his throat. It’s wet and slow and when you peek through your eyelashes his brows are scrunched and a blush blooms down his neck to his chest.

He doesn’t kiss like a boy anymore, you think to yourself. It comes unbidden and warms your insides up.

The taste of him lingers on your lips as you pull away just a fraction, your breaths mingling. You barely have a moment to think before Viktor kisses you back, deeply, hoarse inhale taken straight from your lungs leaves you dizzy.

***

Viktor had walked you back to your dorm after a late-night study session at the library. His pace was slow, almost reluctant, as if he was trying to figure out what to say before you parted ways. You were too tired to wait for him to find the words, your mind still foggy from hours of studying.

“I guess this is goodn—” you started, but before you could finish the word, his lips were on yours. The kiss came out of nowhere, abrupt and clumsy, pressing you back into the door behind you. For a moment, you froze, your tired mind scrambling to catch up with what was happening.

Then, the realization sank in, and the sound that left your lips transformed from startled surprise to a soft moan. You responded without thinking, hands sliding up Viktor's sides, feeling the warmth of his body as you kissed him back.

He dropped his cane, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His touch was urgent, hands cradling your back and drawing you in as you ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling your response, he grew bolder, shut his eyes and concentrated on drawing deep breaths through his nose to not have to part from you.

Hands everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide what to do. You nearly laughed when she squeezed your butt quickly, only to go back to your waist, slide into your ribs and then to the small of your back. So feverish.

When the oxygen run out, he broke the kiss but still kept you close. “I wanted to do this for the longest time,” he chuckled into your mouth.

***

He gives himself a good-willed push off the couch’s armrest but ends up trapping your hip beneath his. His face scrunches in worry when you hiss, but the sound quickly transforms into a laugh. When your stomach shakes beneath him, Viktor feels a strange swelling in his chest. This is so familiar.

He looks at you longingly, sliding his fingers into your hair. Your laughter dies into a moan when his groin presses between your legs. His tongue grows more eager now, as if he remembers just how much he used to want you. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips, and you respond by fisting his shirt, nearly tearing it. You try to say you’ve missed him too—fuck, how much you’ve missed him every day—but you can’t, because your mouth is full.

You brace yourself on your elbows, meeting him halfway. You’re not sure you can bear to part long enough for him to take your clothes off, so instead, you take his hands and press them to your ass. He accepts, of course, kneading your flesh in rhythm with his breath.

When you finally straddle him, your fingers move to undo the rest of his shirt. That’s when he stills. His palms come up to wrap around yours, and a quiet plea escapes him. “Wait,” he says weakly, his cock already hard—you’re sure this costs him a lot.

“Whatever for?” you ask, nosing at his face before pressing kisses to his cheeks, his closed eyelids. You untangle your fingers from his and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I should show you something first,” he murmurs, and begins to undo his shirt. You lean back to give him space to sit up, but your hips never leave his, and your eyes never look away from his face. You give him the room he needs, and feel unbearably not close enough.

***

You fought with the doorknob to your bedroom for a hot minute. Viktor, being very distracting, had completely derailed your brain from this simple dexterity task with continuous neck-licking and ear-kissing. He kept smirking against your skin, all cocky and pleased with himself, ever since the moment you’d asked, “Do you want to come in?”

You stumbled into the room together, and his fingers immediately shot to your vest. You hadn’t even blinked properly before it was undone, his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt, his cane hooked over his forearm.

Laughing and snorting at his clumsiness, you’d steadied him by the waist and let him walk you backward toward the bed.

Your hands fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, but they were small and stubborn, and you were too impatient. With a frustrated huff, you abandoned the effort and slid your hands over his shoulders instead. “Arms up,” you ordered, and Viktor chuckled as he complied.

He lifted his arms obediently, but as you dragged his shirt over his head, it caught for a moment, tangling around his face. He let out a muffled laugh, flailing slightly as you tugged it free, and the moment he was loose, he lost his balance. He tumbled backward onto the bed with an oof, propping himself up on his elbows as he grinned up at you.

You stepped between his legs, watching as his expression softened, turning almost reverent. His hands found your waist, fingers brushing deliberately over the fabric of your skirt before he slid it down, letting it pool at your feet. His lips followed the motion, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before he rested his chin there, gazing up at you.

He cradled your hips, thumbs stroking lazily over your skin. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice quiet, careful.

You nodded, eager, and leaned down to kiss him, pouring every answer he could ever need into the press of your lips.

***

“There is both more and less to me than there used to be,” Viktor says, rubbing slow, thoughtful circles up and down your thighs. His expression is pensive, and an apology lingers somewhere in his voice. You hate that he feels the need to apologise in the first place.

Your touch slides across his chest, down—down the leather ridges of a brace you’ve never seen before. It screams Jayce Talis with every bolt, every stitch, and your heart aches at the thought that you weren’t here when this was happening.

Your eyes dart between his chest and his lips before you finally nestle deeper against his pelvis, wrap your arms back around his neck, and crush your mouth to his in a kiss that weeps remorse. “You beautiful, beautiful man,” you whisper, pressing your face into his. “How are you so brave?”

You cup his cheeks, and he only smiles, covering your palm with his.

“I’m not brave. I just… survived,” Viktor says with a small shrug. Then, after a pause: “Would you like to help me take them off?”

You nod, eager, and lean down to kiss him, pouring all the fragmented pieces of yes into the press of your lips.

***

Viktor rolled with you across the sheets, his hands skimmed up your sides, warm and eager, fingers pressing into your skin like he was trying to memorise the feel of you. Your mouths met again, lips parting, tongues teasing—lazy and deep, now that you had each other finally.

He pulled you closer, your thighs bracketing his hips, and when you reached down, fingers curling into the waistband of his trousers, he let out a shaky breath. You grinned against his mouth, tugging them lower inch by inch, letting your nails drag over his skin just to hear the quiet little sounds he made in response. Finally, with one last playful yank, you pulled them off entirely, giggling when they got caught at his ankles for a moment before slipping free.

And then you saw it—his brace.

Viktor stiffened immediately. His hands twitched at his sides, and he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "It’s nothing," he muttered, voice quieter than before. "You don’t have to—"

You reached out, your palm settling gently on his leg. "Viktor," you said softly, your touch firm but tender. His gaze flicked back to yours, guarded, unsure. "You are so beautiful."

He gasped, a sound so quiet you might not have caught it if you weren’t so close. His lips parted slightly, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you right.

You didn’t give him time to argue. Instead, you leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his thigh, just above the brace. He shivered beneath you. Carefully, you undid the clasps, your fingers working with quiet reverence, peeling away the brace as if unveiling something sacred.

It left behind faint indentations in his skin—lines and ridges pressed deep from the whole day of wear. You kissed each one, your lips trailing over the marks with the same care you’d give any other part of him. Viktor’s breath hitched, his fingers threading into the sheets, gripping tight.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, barely above a whisper, he breathed, "You undo me."

***

You set the last metal part of Viktor aside, and now, finally—after years of longing—you see him. His legs are parted, eternal bruises marking his thigh and knee, the toes of one foot cramped closer together than the other. His ribs bear pearly little scars where the chest brace has caught against his skin.

His cock rests idly in the crease of his thigh, beautiful as ever—pink at the tip, his navel scattered with curly hair that meets in a neat line just below his belly button. His hips are sharp angles, his belly rising and falling with each breath. You take in this adult man’s body and compare it to the boy you fell in love with. And you are sure now—there is only more to him than there used to be.

You step between his legs, and his arms reach out, fingers tracing a scar on your lower abdomen. He hums, “This is new.”

“You should see the other guy,” you murmur playfully. “A machine malfunctioned at the lab. One of the energy conductors went unstable, and before I could shut it down, a piece of metal sliced me open.” You pause, watching his face tense. “I got lucky.”

Viktor brushes his thumb over the scar tissue before lowering his lips, pressing a kiss to it—slow, reverent. “My brave girl,” he mutters against your skin. Your head lulls back on your shoulders, fingers threading into his hair and you let out a sigh.

You shudder when he presses a delicate touch between your legs. His hand, more calloused than you remember, gathers the curve of your inner thigh—but oh, his fingers still feel the same. The same timid swipe across your core, the same quiet hum of approval at the wetness you've gathered for him. Then, his free arm comes to wrap around your hips, pulling you closer as he presses his ear to your belly and slides two fingers inside you.

More skill, you notice. A pang of jealousy coils in your chest—ugly, unnecessary—but you don’t let him see. He kisses your stomach, and his eyelashes tickle your skin as he moves his hand up and down and his fingers hit the spot that has you moaning out his name. “As tight as I remember,” he hums, and it lances through you how infinitely hotter he has become.

You tug at his hair to make him look at you. Two gold gems drill right through you when you say, “Viktor.” A sigh, then, “I think I really need to fuck you now.”

He smiles sweetly and kisses your stomach again. “Then it seems we are on the same page.”

***

After a lot of fumbling, adjusting, and whispered curses, you finally found what worked. Viktor propped his knee up with a pillow, his other leg hooked under yours, grounding you together. His weight pressed you into the mattress—not crushing, just enough to make you feel him everywhere, warm and steady.

He rolled his hips into you, slow and measured, his arm caging you in as he kissed you through it. The heat of his breath spilled over your mouth, his lips parting just enough to let out the quietest of moans. And even in the haze of pleasure, you could see it—the determination tightening his brow, the concentrated press of his mouth against yours. He was on a mission, and that mission was you.

One arm wound snugly around your neck, cradling you into him, while his other hand worked between your legs, fingers slick and diligent. He timed each stroke with the snap of his hips, coaxing you closer, closer—

“Oh—Viktor—”

The sound of your voice shattered something in him. His rhythm stuttered, his forehead dropped to yours, but his fingers didn’t stop, circling, pressing, working you toward your peak. You dug your nails into his back, rocking up to meet him, and then—

It rushed over you like a cresting wave. Your thighs tensed around his waist, your breath caught, and the pleasure crested so high it stole all thought. He moaned softly, watching, feeling every pulse of your release around him.

His movements became less controlled, needier, a touch more frantic. He groaned against your shoulder, muttered something in a language you barely caught, and then followed you over the edge. His body trembled against yours, hips stuttering, breath shaky as he spilled into you, his lips still parted against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds in the room were your slowing breaths, the faint creak of the mattress, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Then, Viktor finally lifted his head, flushed, sweat-dampened curls clinging to his forehead. He swallowed hard, his expression abashed but glowing with something warm and dazed.

“I hope that at this point, it is merely a formality,” he said, still breathless. “But… may I be so bold as to call you my girlfriend from now on?”

***

Your hips slot back together as if no time has passed. He fills you the same way, stretches you perfectly, and the expression he makes as he sinks in—God, it’s the same. Crushingly fucking gorgeous. Relief and bliss war on his face, his lips parting around a shaky groan as his hands seize your ass, pulling you down fully with a sharp slap of skin against skin.

He nuzzles into your neck, breath heavy and warm, licks up the column of your throat before sinking his teeth into your tendon. You gasp, moan, and pull at his hair, and the low, satisfied hum he gives in response shoots straight through you. His grip on your hips tightens, thumbs pressing into your skin as he guides you into motion, dragging you up before urging you back down. A faint roll of his own hips meets yours with every descent, his restraint slipping as the pleasure builds.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice—he’s changed. There’s more confidence in the way he moves, the way he takes from you, the way he talks to you. His voice is deeper, richer, words curling into your skin like smoke.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dark and approving. He drags a hand up your spine, settles it at your nape, tilting your head so you do look—so you watch the way he devours you with his eyes. “You take me so well, lásko.”

Heat spreads down to your toes. You try to bite back a whimper, but he sees it, hears it, and smirks. Smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Oh, he’s so much bolder now. And you’re falling apart because of it.

It starts with the way he tilts his hips just right, the way his grip on you tightens like he knows exactly where you need him. His free hand glides down your spine, tracing sweat-slick skin before slipping between your bodies. Two fingers find your clit, and your breath stutters. He circles once, twice—slow and deliberate��before pressing down, firm and unrelenting.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, voice like silk, like sin. He rewards you with a deep thrust, dragging a broken moan from your throat. “Let me feel you.”

You do—oh, God, you do. Pleasure overtakes you, crashing through your body in waves, pulling you under. Your thighs shake around him, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails sinking into muscle as you arch and shudder and keen his name. He groans, eyes dark and reverent as he watches you unravel in his lap.

Yet still, there are things that haven’t changed. The way his breath hitches when you clench around him. The way his moans turn desperate when you lean forward and suck at his throat. The way he starts to chase the pleasure once he gets close, gripping you tighter, rutting up into you with a fervour that makes your head spin.

And the way he comes—the same shudder, the same deep, gasping moan, the same way his arms crush you against his chest as if he could pull you inside him. His release spills deep, his body trembling beneath yours, and you realise it then, as you always have.

He is grateful for this. For you.

Your noses brush as he catches his breath, and his hands smooth over your back, grounding himself in the feel of you.

“Still with me?” you murmur, running your fingers through his damp curls.

Viktor exhales a breathless laugh, lids heavy, lips parted in something like awe. He nods, shifting just enough to press a lingering kiss to your collarbone. “Always.”

[velmiraa]

Astro Observations

Hi Tumblr! This will be my first post, and hopefully not the last. Let's start then!

Disclaimer: These are just my observations. If they don't resonate with you, simply read and move on.

Natives with a Yod aspect that places Mars at the apex can struggle with controlling their anger. Since Mars governs our energy, it’s important for them to find productive outlets—such as sports or other physical activities—to help manage these impulses. This same aspect may also indicate challenges in dealing with sexual energy.

Saturn-Moon hard aspects in a natal chart—particularly the square—can be quite challenging. Individuals with these placements often struggle with depression and frequently experience difficulties in their relationship with their mother. One of the hardest aspects to have.

Another challenging aspect is having hard Sun-Saturn aspects. Individuals with these placements may experience tension with father figures at home, authority figures or bosses at work, and, if they are female, with husbands or boyfriends in romantic relationships.It’s as though these individuals are constantly expected to be the “good girl,” always obedient. However, if they fail to meet those expectations, they often encounter the harshest or most brutal reactions. This aspect also brings late marriages, especially for women.

Individuals with Mercury at 29 degrees in Aries often struggle with controlling their anger and often swear frequently.

Individuals with Neptune in the 2nd house often have trouble keeping track of their belongings—keys, phones, wallets, and the like—and end up losing them.

Individuals with at least two Leo placements in the 10th house often take immense pride in their work, career, and social standing, sometimes coming across as overly egotistical.

When someone has both Virgo and Taurus stelliums in their chart, it often makes them overly strict, stubborn about their rules even though the rule doesn't mean a thing and very hard to please.

Individuals with a North Node conjunct Chiron are destined healers. But first, they must confront a profound wound connected to the sign and house where their Chiron is located.

Pluto conjunct Mercury in the 5th house can indicate that a person might have several romantic partners at once and is skilled at keeping it hidden. This, however, depends on the sign involved. For example Sagittarius is perfect for this. But maybe Taurus would not want to change their partner so they would be overly obsessive with one person.

People with Mars in 12th house, again this depends on the sign, but most probably having very hard time with showing their anger. They might get scared easily. This works very well for Scorpio or Taurus. But it would be a different story for Aries Mars.

[tahbhie]

Effective Ways of Creating Relatable and Realistic Conflicts

As a writer, whether you're a beginner, intermediate, or expert, you've likely heard about the importance of creating "relatable and realistic conflicts." This advice appears in almost every writing guide. Yes, it's crucial.

However, this recurring statement might seem vague. Let's break down what these terms mean. We'll discuss how to create conflicts in your style that work, and what can lead to the opposite results.

✧✧✧✧

This is a flexible guide, not a strict set of rules. Let's begin.

✧✧✧✧

First, relatability is different from realism, at least in this context.

Relatability offers an experience that people have gone through before. They can easily identify it as something that happens.

Realism, on the other hand, can be a fresh experience or something entirely fantastical. Here's the catch: it must stay true to your setting and plot. For example, in a fantasy setting, your conflict could be the protagonist's dragon falling sick on the eve of a big race.

In the real world, we have no dragons. But in your setting, your situation with this creature feels real. Now consider an instance where we have intelligent insects with no apparent reason or explanation. This is an example of an unrealistic conflict that doesn't align with its setting. It's either you adjust a few things in the settings or adjust the conflict that stems from their intelligence or is solved by it.

Now that we've established that, let's consider what to keep in mind when writing conflicts.

Conflicts can be resolved instantly or extend further. They can begin your story, occur during it, or happen after a sweet moment.

Before writing a conflict, think about:

1. The Setting:

Where is your world set? This matters a lot! You can use our real-life world but still create your own rules, as long as you make that clear. Your conflict could come off as both realistic and relatable. However, where you have a total no is when your world is the normal world we know, with no changes, and your conflicts are unrealistic and unrelated.

You have such examples in some Bollywood movies. No offense to anyone in love with these movies. This is just a case study for clarification purposes.

Think of the fight scenes. The physical conflicts often stem from a grander conflict. You'll understand where I'm coming from.

2. Duration:

How long will this conflict last in your story? Earlier, I mentioned lasting conflict and fleeting conflict. The former helps create more meaning for your plot. The latter adds excitement that drives the plot forward.

3. Solvability:

Sometimes, the resolution to your conflict can render it meaningless, even after you've nailed the creation. Resolve your conflict in agreement with your plot.

4. Interesting Premise:

Conflict ideas sometimes come naturally as you write your story. I remember when I wrote high school stories, conflicts came to me as I wrote, but this doesn't happen every time. Sometimes, I knew I needed something more exciting and less predictable.

For example, it's common for a new female student to be rivaled by the school's most popular girl. This is usually because of the love interest—the most popular guy in school. But what if they become best friends, and the love interest turns out to be the popular girl's brother?

She mistakes the protagonist's friendship with a different guy as cheating, and the feeling of betrayal turns them against each other. This twist offers a fresh take on the usual antagonizing characters. It could make your story more interesting. This time the antagonist is doing what she feels is in her brother's favour not herself.

5. Character's Involvement:

This is slightly similar to the above. The difference is that it deals directly with the characters themselves, not just the conflict they face. The actions towards the conflict give the situation meaning.

6. Aim and Goals:

What do you aim to achieve with your conflict? Do you wish to entertain, hook the readers, drive the plot forward, or introduce a new object or character? It's best to aim for two at a time. Trying to achieve all in a single conflict could lead to complications.

Which conflict have you read in a book that made you wish you wrote it?

If you love what I do, support my work to enable more content production.

Aiming for a powerful plot? Check out this plot progression planner that helps you plan the aspects you often overlook. You get a free gift!

[tellmegoodbye]

Welcome back! This is the second installment of our monthly rec lists, where I round up my faves at the end of each month and tell you why I loved them.

The shortest month of the year was quite busy. I have 26 incredible fics to share with you, and that isn't even everything! I encourage you guys to make your own lists and tag me in them if you want. I love doing these, but I can't possibly keep up with all the wonderful fics in our fandom on my own. And as always, please show these writers some love!

---

Season Five Codas

First up, we have a few incredible codas for the last Lone Star episodes. As always, our wonderful writers worked their magic and wrote some beautiful fics.

No Goodbyes - @carlos-in-glasses

For our first fic of the month, we have a coda from the lovely Cig, who always does an amazing job at mixing complex emotions and showing us the humans behind the characters. They're never just sad, or just angry, or just happy. Sometimes, it's so many things at once, and Cig does a beautiful job of capturing that. This fic in particular gives us a glimpse into the aftermath of 3x08 and shows us a potential origin story for the phrase "no goodbyes" and I love it so much because you can feel the gravity of everything that happened, the way Carlos is processing all of those emotions, and the many ways in which he and TK love each other.

Brighter Than All This Lightning - @paperstorm

This was the first finale coda I read, and I loved it a lot! It has several moments from 5x12 that we didn't get to see, like Tarlos' reunion hug, the uncertainty while the 126 are all in the hospital, and TK telling Carlos about his decision to quit his job. This fic does a great job exploring all of those emotions, and I love the way Carlos comforts TK throughout all of it. It's a small period of both relief and worry, and a slowed-down moment in between all of the chaos.

No Regrets - @carlos-in-glasses

No goodbyes, and NO REGRETS! What a perfect way to conclude this story (for now) and what a perfect coda to read after the finale. It has such a creative format, showing us snapshots throughout TK and Carlos' lives, and at the end we get to see how Jonah's life looks now that he's with them. I love the dynamics we can already see developing in their family. We see all of the different ways TK and Carlos are loving Jonah, and all of the pieces of themselves they're giving to him. This is such a sweet fic and a beautiful glimpse into this family.

Towards The Sun - @theghostofashton

Another amazing 5x12 coda! I really loved how this fic not only focused on Tarlos, but we also get to see how Nancy is struggling waiting to see if Mateo will be okay. And we get to see how TK and Carlos are there for her as well. Neha does a great job at expanding her fics and showing us so much more than just Tarlos, and it's always enjoyable to read them with that added element!

Oneshots

This Little Moment - @everlastingday

If you're looking for Jonah fics, start with this one! As far as fics focused on this family go, this is a favorite. I love the concept of looking at how the relationship between Jonah, TK and Carlos evolves overtime when we see how they interact in the future. I love all of the detail that was included in Jonah's personality and the dynamics between the three of them, as well as all of the little things that show how TK and Carlos are incredible parents. This was such a sweet and emotional fic, and I love that this story is being told through Jonah's perspective.

Somewhere Off The Coast Of Santorini - @alrightbuckaroo

Are you a fan of AUs? Well, you're in luck if you are, because Ada is doing an event that's all about AUs that you should check out, and you should also read this fic as well! It has everything you want in an assassins AU: tension, humor, and hot sex. I love the aspect of AUs where they're different enough, but still maintain the charm of the characters, and this fic does a great job with that! We get to see Tarlos in an entirely different career, we get to see them be as infatuated with each other as they are in every universe, and we get to see their friends teasing them about it!

Swing For The Fences - @strandnreyes

Sometimes we learn little pieces of lore about our favorite characters that are like hidden treasures that are just waiting to be explored, and that's exactly what Jen does here! We know TK plays softball, but now we have a whole other world to play with and another aspect of his and Carlos' life that comes into play. I love how this fic follows them through season 5 through this lens, introduces new characters for Tarlos to befriend, and includes Jonah being adorable!

Welcome Home, Jonah - @lemonlyman-dotcom

This fic takes us on the journey of Jonah finally coming home. It's beautiful in the way it shows all of the emotions everyone is feeling, as well as showing some realistic, early parenting hiccups that TK and Carlos run into. Lemon really knows how to deliver a sweet fic, and this one is perfect for if you're looking to read something with beautiful family moments and feel the endless love TK and Carlos have for Jonah, and for each other.

Carlos Reyes And The No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Day - @the-126-family

This is the first of two fics that emerged from this post, which was already hilarious, and I love how this fic expanded on that idea. The combination of the serious stress of the asteroid aftermath and the more lighthearted stress of Lou getting out (and of course, being more frightening than the end of the world to Carlos) made for a really enjoyable fic!

Moka Pot Monday - @daggerandrose

Similar to the previous fic, this one also gives us some post-asteroid Lou shenanigans! It also does an amazing job at balancing all of those emotions, and I love the soft Tarlos moments as well! This fic shows the beauty and domesticity of their relationship in the way they interact with Lou, and in the way they comfort each other after a near death experience.

The End Is Near - angstk

Paging all whump lovers! We love tension, we love danger, we love angst, and this fic gives us all of that. TK and Carlos are in a hostage situation (because of course they are) and I love how this fic shows how the fear affects them, as well as how they take charge and try to save the day. It's action packed, it's high-stakes, and it will absolutely break your heart before putting it back together again.

You Wanting Me Tonight Feels Impossible - @emsprovisions

Our favorite original character is back: Lizzie the dog! This time, it's a universe where TK and Carlos are in Oregon, dealing with their strained relationship and the hardships of a brutal winter storm. The vibes are perfect for the angst this fic delivers, and the resolution is so beautiful! No matter what happens, or where they go, Tarlos are always going to get through it together.

We're Gonna Be Just Okay - @lemonlyman-dotcom

The title speaks for itself, because they really are going to be okay, aren't they? Lemon is back with yet another beautiful Jonah fic, and this time it's from the perspective of TK and Marjan, who are both entering parenthood together. This fic, like many of Lemon's fics, does such a good job showing the strength of TK and Marjan's friendship, and the moments with Jonah are absolutely precious.

Through Thick And Thin - @chaoticbug

This is another fic that dives into TK and Marjan's friendship, and what better way to do that than to have TK being there for her as she takes a pregnancy test and waits for the biggest news of her life. The 126 is truly a family, and this fic is a perfect representation of how strong that family is and how they support each other in moments like these.

Lost - @denizoid

This songfic (based on this song) is so good! It's so simple, yet it really shows just how Carlos and TK fall for each other so quickly after meeting for the first time. It's sweet, it's a beautiful meetcute, and it's a very enjoyable read. If you're into the "meeting in the middle of nowhere" vibe, then you'll definitely love this fic! I also recommend listening to the song while you read.

💞 Valentine's Day Fics 💞

Holiday themed fics are always fun, and y'all went all out for Valentine's Day!

Famous Last Words - @captain-gillian

TK and Carlos' first Valentine's with Jonah is nothing short of eventful! They have a three-year-old in the house now, and they'll do just about anything for him, which doesn't end so well for them here. This fic is so fun, and I love how it shows some of the more lighthearted ways in which things can go wrong. Overall it's a beautiful fic where we get to see more of this new family, and one of the many interesting situations they'd find themselves in with Jonah.

A Taste Of Something Sweet, A Window To Your Soul - @everlastingday

An AU where TK is a chocolatier is something I didn't know I needed, but now that I've read this I am so, so happy that this idea was brought to life! It's not just a simple Valentine's meetcute, it's so much more than that. We see Carlos and TK falling in love because of the care TK puts into his chocolates, and the way the flavors are described is so evocative. This is such a well written story, and it's perfect for those of us who have more than one kind of sweet tooth!

Like An Ocean In Love - @alrightbuckaroo

This is such a lovely 5+1 concept, and Ada did a fantastic job with it! I love all of the moments she chose to dive into, and each of these soft, special, and romantic moments is beautifully brought to life. Ada's writing is so gorgeous, and I highly recommend reading this if you need more of TK and Carlos being undeniably in love!

For One Weekend Only - @no-goodbyes-no-regrets

This was written for the @tarlos-secret-cupid event, and I am so, so thankful to have been the recipient of this beautiful fic! Bijou did such an incredible job with the alternative meeting prompt, and I absolutely love the dynamic between Carlos and Luisa here! There were so many things about this fic that were sweet and fun and overall this was a very lovely read!

Of Your Kiss And Your Warm Embrace - @carlos-in-glasses

Not directly a Valentine's fic, but this fic was also written for the secret cupid event and Cig did such an amazing job (as usual) with this! I love the prompt of TK saving Carlos from a horrible date, and Cig worked wonders with it. As usual, it's silly and hot and we get to see Tarlos' soulmate-ism at work once again. If you're looking for something sweet and fun to read, this is the fic for you.

Chaptered Fics

You're Still The One - @strandnreyes

Did someone say Sweet Home Alabama AU? I've been obsessed with this concept ever since I saw the first snippets, and as usual, Jen has been giving us an amazing story! This exes to lovers fic is giving us the angst we all desperately crave. Or maybe it's just me craving it, but this story is definitely delivering! We know Tarlos will find their way back to each other, but the process of unpacking their past and confronting those emotions has been both beautiful and heartbreaking so far.

This fic is currently ongoing.

The Widow's Bite - @henrygrass

The writing in this fic is just so incredibly evocative, and it's everything I would have wanted from a spinoff. With Carlos and Sam working together while their families are in hiding, there's so much tension and so many twists and turns that have me on the edge of my seat. Every time I sit down to read a chapter, I physically cannot pull myself away! I can't wait to see where this story goes, and I highly recommend reading if you're looking to dive into a gripping nail-biter that also offers plenty of angsty and emotional moments.

This fic is currently ongoing.

Something Worth Waiting For - @carlossreaders

An AU where Tarlos are divorced parents was an intriguing concept to say the least, and the way this story came together was beautiful. We usually wouldn't see TK and Carlos dealing with something like this in fics, but I think that's what makes this one so good, because it shows just how strong their love is. We get heartbreaking flashbacks of the loss they faced and the struggles that came with it, we get to meet their two kids whose personalities are big and whose hearts are even bigger, and we get to see how Tarlos come back to each other and confront the pain that separated them to begin with. Love, loss, Parenthood, and TK and Carlos being soulmates: all of these elements came together to create an incredible story.

This fic is now complete.

The Lone Ranger - @rangersoup

Do you want more Ranger Soup? Do you want to see more of the dynamic between Sam and Carlos? Then you should read this fic! It's intense, and it shows just how strong the bond between Sam and Carlos is when Carlos is injured. It moves fast and slow in all the right moments, it gives us perspectives from different characters, and we see how TK surpresses his fear in order to stay professional and attempt to save Carlos. It's full of the action we all crave, and I can't wait for more!

This fic is currently ongoing.

Are We In The Clear Yet? Good. - @liminalmemories21

This series of season five codas is, for lack of a better description, fucking beautiful. There is so much love that has clearly been poured into this, and each moment that was expanded on is so thoughtfully written. I loved all of the angst, joy, and every emotion in between that I got to experience while reading, and this fic genuinely made me want to go rewatch season five afterward. There's so much detail, so many complexities, and so much love for these characters and their story. If you're looking to ride the rollercoaster that was this season again, look no further than this fic.

This fic is now complete.

Somewhere In A Song - @paperstorm

Returning from the January rec list: This is a beautiful Musician AU, and it keeps getting better! I also highly recommend listening to the playlist as well. The way each song is woven into the story is so thoughtful, and being able to dive into the lyrics and relate them to these characters makes the reading experience incredibly enjoyable!

This fic is currently ongoing.

[flowery-mess]

kill the silence

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / argument with reader's mother / mother's asshole boyfriend mentioned / mentiones of alcohol / I think that's it, let me know

Words: 2,8k

Author's note: don't you just love when writers self project themselves in their works? Because that's exactly what I did lol. Hope you like getting to know more of Ella's story💕

frat boy Noah masterlist

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Can we talk about it?”

“Ella please, act like an adult.”

You rolled your eyes after reading your mom’s messages. Yesterday she called you on facetime to show you the big diamond on her finger, throwing the news of being engaged at you.

Your parents divorced when you were 4 and it has been a wild ride since then.

You stayed living with your mum, seeing your dad only a few times a month. You’d think that something like this would make your and your mom's relationship stronger, but it was the opposite.

She started dating different guys, but no one was serious enough for her to bring him home for good. She introduced you to some of them, but you never liked any of the men that walked through the door of your home. And you didn’t hide your dislike.

You never crossed a line with doing something rebellious, but you always made sure that they knew you’re not a fan of them with the way you talked to them or about them behind their backs.

Your mom always put up with it, but it brought lots of fights between you two. She never blamed you for her failed relationships, because they weren’t meant to last. Until she met him, Richard.

Richard was a few years older than her, with no kids and with a nice house. Moving to his place wasn’t a question, she just told you to pack your stuff. “You’re my child, you’re gonna follow me wherever I go. I don’t care that you don’t want to.” will probably replay in your head until the day you die.

Sadly for you you were still underage and with no other place to go, so you moved to his place and that’s where the hell started.

Heated arguments with your mom every day, silent treatments from both of you and cold shoulder for Richard. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance, you dismissed him at the very beginning.

You hated the house and you cried yourself to sleep every other night.

He turned out to be a narcissistic and arrogant guy which you couldn’t stand. You were counting the days until it was time for you to move away for college. The best thing that ever happened to you.

Seeing your mom and Richard less was a good thing for keeping the family relationships at least somehow working. After a few months of not seeing them you finally found the courage to come back for a weekend and somehow you three acted like the hell before you left never happened.

You got along with Richard for a few hours and then left their place again. It wasn’t home for you, it was just their place. And since then you visit them occasionally.

You got used to their relationship and swallowed all your opinions for your mother’s sake and happiness.

That was until yesterday though.

You didn’t know what reaction from you she expected, but it probably wasn’t “Are you fucking serious?” and hanging up on her. Since then you didn’t pick up any of her calls nor replied to any of her messages.

“Ella please, just a few minutes so we can talk about it.”

You read the next message and rolled your eyes again. You finished the drink in your hand before standing up and going outside.

Little did you know Noah was watching you look at your phone every other minute, rolling your eyes and making sad faces. He could tell something was wrong so he wasn’t surprised to see you storm out of the crowded living room.

He wanted to give you a few minutes and see if you come back, if not, he knows where to find you.

In the beginning of your friendship with benefits you two sometimes sneaked away from your friends and met in the backyard in a small place that was separated from the rest of the big garden by bushes. There was an old swing, too small for both of you, but it provided you lots of fun. Also the almost broken fence where Noah pinned you many times just to steal kisses from you was there. It became “your place” any time you two couldn’t find each other and texted the other “our place?” and time, you both were there.

Your place was exactly where you ran off. The drink you just finished gave you enough courage to face your mom’s voice over the phone and tell her your opinion.

She picked up almost immediately and started talking, but you cut her off.

“Finally darling, ca-”

“No mom, you let me talk now.” you started, taking a deep breath before letting it all out. “I’ve been silent for the past few years, but I can’t let you marry him without telling you my honest opinion.”

You kicked a few rocks that were laying around and walked back and forth, a habit of yours when you were too nervous.

“I don’t think he’s good for you. I don’t think he’s enough for you. You were always a strong independent woman who knew her worth, I never thought I'd see you running around a man like you do now. You always laughed at women who served food under their man’s nose or had to pack a bag for them. But now that’s you mom.” you stopped talking, expecting some protest from her, but there was just silence at the other side of the line.

“You do everything he says, you’re like his maid mom. That hurts me to see. You should find a man who’s gonna carry you in his arms and worship the ground you walk on, not someone who tells you he won’t eat the food you made because it tastes weird, but also refuses to cook his own meal. He’s a child mom.” you threw your hands up and down in a frustrating gesture.

She finally spoke and you could hear the hurt in her voice. “That’s not true Ella.”

“You know it is, you just don’t want it to be.”

“Listen, I know you don’t agree with my relationship, but you need to respect it. I’m finally happy.”

“I don’t think you really are.” you whispered back and couldn’t stop the tears running down your cheeks. Of course you want your mum to be happy, but if this is how happiness looks like, you hope you’ll never find it.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I just wanted to tell you that we will be sending invites next week and I’d really appreciate it if you’d come to the wedding.” there was a short break before she added “Please.”

She rarely used “please”, “thank you” or “I’m sorry” with you, so you knew how hard it must’ve been for her to say those words out loud.

“I have to think about it.” you told her the truth. You didn’t want to make any promises in case you’d decide to not attend in the end.

“You’re hurting me Ella.” there she was, back at attacking you for your feelings.

“Bye mom.” and before she could say anything else you pressed the red button and silenced her voice that could only say more hurtful things.

Your eyes stayed on the ground, colors of the grass and dirt mixing together as your tears formed in your eyes, one blink of your eyelids sending them down your cheeks.

You were hurting too. You were hurt, sad and angry. The anger took over your body and before you could think of what you were doing, you threw your phone away and only heard a loud bang when it landed somewhere in the dark in front of you.

When Noah thought you were gone for too long he decided to go after you. He found you with your back facing him, your hands by your sides, but you weren’t talking or moving, you were just standing there.

“Did something possess you?” he joked. He expected a silly comment back or you saying “shut up”, but you stayed silent.

The tears kept running down your cheeks, because you suddenly felt so small. You felt betrayed by your mother and you felt like you were standing in your childhood room listening to her “I don’t care what you want” speech all over again. You just wanted to cry.

You heard Noah's question, but what possessed you was just a pure sadness that was making it impossible for you to move or speak.

Noah made a few steps to be closer to you and reached for your hand, but before he could do that you finally spoke up.

“Can I have your phone?” even with your back still facing now very confused Noah, he could hear the tremble in your voice.

“What?”

“Your phone.” you turned around to face him. When you did, his confused face turned into something softer. He saw your wet cheeks and the small shakes of your chin. “I threw mine somewhere in the bushes and I need to find it.” you said it like it was the most obvious thing and waited for Noah to give you his phone.

He didn’t ask any questions and just handed you his phone, turning the flashlight on for you.

You turned around and went in the direction of where you thought your phone could be. Noah just stood there in silence, his eyes following your every move.

Well, now you really looked like something possessed you. Your hands were snapping the twigs that came your way, some of them got stuck in your hair while you tried to find your phone.

With no luck finding it, you got out of the bush and dived straight into another one.

“For fucks sake.” Noah couldn’t keep watching this shit show in front of him and yanked you out of the bush, took his phone from your trembling hand and started looking for your phone himself.

You cleaned yourself from the mess and leaves that were stuck to your clothes and hair. The need to escape this loud place made your body shake. You were thinking about telling Noah to stop and come for the phone tomorrow or even buy a new phone with a new number so your mum couldn’t call you again.

“Here.” Noah’s voice took you out of the trance you were in, looking at you with a proud smirk and leaves in his hair, but he had your black phone in his hand. And it looked like you didn’t break it when you threw it away.

“Thank you.” you took it out of his hand and put it in your pocket.

Noah, scared of what you’re going to do next, stood in silence and waited for your next move. But you just kept looking around, avoiding his face. You for sure didn’t make it easy for him.

“Do you want a hug?” he asked you, unsure look on his face.

“What?”

“Isn’t that what people want when they're sad?” just as he finished his question your hands were wrapped around his torso.

You didn’t want him to see you cry again, so you just hid your face in his sweatshirt. You tried to hold your sobs and cries in, but you felt like you’re going to explode, so you let everything out.

Noah didn’t know what else to do than just rub your back and gently sway you from side to side.

After a few minutes your breath calmed down and you stepped out of Noah’s arms, cringing at the wet spot on his grey sweatshirt.

“Sorry for that.” you whispered and pointed to the place that was covered in your tears.

Noah just looked down and laughed. “It’s okay. Come on, let's take you home.”

He took your hand in his, but you realized how crazy you must look after this meltdown, so you stopped in your tracks, making Noah stop too.

“I can’t go there. I look crazy.” you panicked.

“Yeah you do, but everyone is drunk at this point, they won’t notice.”

“No, Molly and Clara will and I don’t want to explain it to them.”

Noah just sighed and looked around, rubbing his jaw with his palm and thinking of ways to leave the fraternity without anyone seeing you.

“We can jump the fence.” he proposed.

“Are you out of your mind?” you looked at the tall metallic fence around you.

“It’s either that or the main door.”

“It’s impossible for me to jump over it Noah.”

“I’m gonna help you.”

You looked at the fence, then at Noah and then back at the fence.

He’s tall and strong and falling on your ass in front of him was better than doing the walk of shame.

“Okay.”

He led you in the direction of the fence. “Okay, so, you’re gonna put your feet in my hands and I’m gonna push you up. Then you have to carefully move over the top and jump down, okay?”

“How are you gonna do it?” you asked him, because there's no way you're going to help him from the other side.

“Haven’t thought of that yet.”

“God, don’t laugh at me if I fall.” you made him promise before he leaned forward and intertwined his hands low enough for you to step into them.

“Grab my shoulders. I’m gonna count to three and then push you up okay?”

“Okay.” when he started counting you were sure that neither of you knew what you were doing.

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, reaching for the top of the fence and swung your leg over it, then the other one.

“Jump!” Noah yelled at you, because he was scared you’re going to fall back at him.

You closed your eyes and jumped, landing perfectly on your feet.

“I did it!” you turned around to see Noah through the metallic barricade between you, laughing at the situation.

It was Noah’s turn to jump over the fence and after a few failed attempts you had to hold in a laugh and said “You know you can walk through the inside and meet me in the parking lot?”

Before Noah gave you an answer, he was happy to hear you wanted to leave with him. He was scared you’re going to push him away and won’t let him comfort you like you did to him many times.

“Can’t let you have all the fun.” he snorted, laughing at himself after another failed attempt.

After he finally managed to climb to the top of the fence, one of his legs betrayed him and he fell down on his ass in front of you.

You gasped, not knowing if he was okay, but then you started laughing. He looked up at you, shame all over his face, but he couldn’t help laughing too.

“You know, I did that just to make you laugh. It was intentional.” he shrugged his shoulders after he stood up and used his hands to get rid of the dirt from his clothes.

“Smooth Sebastian, real smooth.” you laughed, but appreciated his attempts to lift your mood.

—

Noah paid for the cab to his place even though you insisted that after everything he’d done for you it was your turn to pay.

He sent you in the direction of his bathroom after he found a few leaves in your hair in the elevator and ordered some food while you washed the dirt of that night of your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Noah asked after he swallowed his food, looking at you at the other side of his sofa.

“Not really. Long story short, my mum is engaged to her ass boyfriend, we had a fight over the phone and I’m probably gonna have to buy a new dress for their wedding.”

“I’m sorry.” he didn’t know what else to say. Your mood was better now, no more tears and throwing things around, so he thought he did a good job.

He wasn’t good at those things, taking care of people, so he was proud of himself for returning the care you gave him many times before.

“Don’t be, shit happens. I just need time to process it.” you put away the take out box. “And maybe some cuddles would be nice.” you made your puppy eyes at him.

“Ugh, women.” he acted annoyed, but you didn’t miss the smile on his face when he lifted the blanket on his lap so you could lay down on his chest.

He put on his favorite show and you two watched in silence.

You were happy he found you in the garden. You loved your friends, but they wouldn’t give you the comfort you needed.

You realized that you want comfort from Noah just as much as you want to comfort him when he’s feeling unwell.

His fingers played with your hair and his eyes were focused on the TV. You laid on his chest, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt and thought about the upcoming wedding.

As if Noah could read your mind he suddenly said “You know, I could be your plus one at the wedding if you decide to go.” his gaze stayed on the TV.

“Shut up, you mean it?” because if you’re going to go, in a place so uncomfortable and full of people you haven’t seen in years, you’d appreciate someone by your side.

Do you want part two?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

Taglist: @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @super-btstrash-posts @amelia-acero @justcarrie @koskeepsake @dominuslunae @ami--gami @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrscevans @blvckmvgicwoman @punkprincess1999 @fear-its-beauty @bloody-spades @n0n3xsisting @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @athenexe @tashka @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @concrtlimits

If you want to be on my taglist click here

[tobiasdrake]

Okay so I started watching Pretty Cure after seeing how raw the fights go. I'm about seven episodes in, and first impression? There's one thing in particular I find really interesting about the way the show is presented.

A key element of writing is the art of creating narrative excuses. Writing can be broken down into two components.

-> This is what I want to happen. -> This is how I explain why and how that is what happens.

Let's say I'm writing a fight between Daredevil and Thor and, for my story, I want Daredevil to win. The next step is to explain why and how this fight ends in Daredevil winning.

-> How do Daredevil's powers contribute to this victory? -> What experience does Daredevil bring to the fight that he can put over Thor? -> What weapons or gadgets or special techniques have I established (or, if I'm working far enough ahead, can I establish) to justify Daredevil winning? -> What are the environmental factors that are working against Thor and to Daredevil's benefit? -> What is going on in the characters' heads?

Etc. etc.

I have decided from the outset that Daredevil is going to win this fight, and now I can work backwards to explain why that happens. A lot of writing fumbles and awkward storytelling come from failures to take the things the writer wants to happen and have them make sense as things that would happen.

Pretty Cure is a Magical Girl series and, as such, it has the transformative format. The characters have two modes: A powerless mode and a super mode, which they can switch between.

I've seen a lot of transforming hero media. Power Rangers, magical girls, and some battle shonen like late-stage Dragon Ball work on this mode-switching format. And for series that mode switch their heroes... often times, you kinda want to have fun in both modes?

The hero fights the bad guys in their base form first, then mode switches, and then the real fight begins in their super form. Power Rangers gets special mention for having two mode switches, going from normal human to Super mode and then mode switching again to have a mecha fight with a kaiju monster.

But when you do that, there's always that lingering question of why. Why not mode switch on the spot? Why would we ever fight the monster in our powerless state?

There's a lot of ways you, as a writer, can answer that question.

They're trying to protect their secret identity and can't transform until the witnesses are away.

The character is a martial artist and wants to test the opponent's mettle before kicking it up a notch.

The thing they use to transform has been taken from them and they need to get it back.

Transforming would have an adverse effect on something and they need to do it sparingly.

Etc. etc.

What I find interesting about the powerset in the first Pretty Cure series is that it's designed for this kind of mode switching from the ground up. Because the girls cannot just... transform.

They don't have transformation sequences. They have a duo transformation sequence. Their powers have to be activated by each other. It's literally a plot point that they cannot transform if they aren't both there to do it together.

This is what allows for the mode switching. Sometimes they're fortunate enough that danger comes while they're hanging out together.

And sometimes David Bowie jumps out of the bushes and attacks one of them while she's by herself.

And she has to survive until the other one can get there so they can mode switch.

I dunno, I just think baking in an excuse like this to justify depowered action sequences without needing to come up with a unique explanation each time you want to write one is pretty clever.

And also having the characters powered by each other like this plays to the collective power fantasy that tends to be really popular in anime. That we are all individually strong in our own ways, but that the truest strength comes from the whole group working together.

It's neat.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

do you think Killer and Insanity could be friends. Like Killer at first didn’t care much for the guy other then the fact that his soul was definitely interesting a perfect specimen to study really. Insanity of course tries to avoid him as I have heard from some sources that have talked to the new creator how Insanity wouldn’t outright fight someone he isn’t sure he can win against and while the two are definitely close in strength I still feel as if Killer would win. At the very least Insanity can respect this strange Sans strength. They both have access to save, load, and resets even if Killer has something a little extra I don’t know I kinda just wanna see them interact more then just the Murder time trio fight videos but with insanity sometimes replacing Horror or him just joining. Although I do like the idea of the four going around bat taking out of control players/Charas/frisk all for their own reasons it would also be a nice way for them to be in a story that doesn’t have them as Nightmares lackeys actually that gives me an idea

~Musical Anon

This guy really needs a better name..like redshift sans or something idk.

And yeah, wiki says he has access to save/load/reset but it’s not more than the human’s, like flowey. So killer’s determination probably stills outweighs I’s. Honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if killer sees himself as superior in a way when compared to Insanity.

Wouldn’t be surprised if, for whatever reasons, if Insanity starts hanging around killer for whatever reason and if killer tolerates it for whatever reason, some may get the vibes that insanity is like killer’s “lackey” and killer is more like the ‘leader’ of the two.

Killer may see himself as above insanity in some way, but I doubt he’d naturally or immediately take over a leadership role in whatever little duo they form—he’s not a leader type.

Outside of a “work” and scientific context, killer may just want insanity to leave him alone and would probably avoid him if he becomes insistent about it—unless insanity makes killer think similar to the way Swap did.

That he won’t stop if Killer doesn’t make him stop. Which means psychological and physical torment.

And if insanity can manage to handle that somehow and keeps coming back, for whatever reasons he’d ever do that (maybe he feels like he and killer are similar, maybe he saw how Killer is in Stage 3 and how Nightmare and the others handle and respond to Stage 3, or perhaps killer’s strength appeals to him?), then maybe it becomes something different.

Maybe it becomes a bit of a transactional thing. If Insanity lets Killer satisfy his curiosities with him and leaves him alone when he wants to be, then killer..helps Insanity with whatever he may want. Help with revenge on Gaster? Help on taking out someone? Just some company or something? I don’t know.

Given who these two are as characters, their backgrounds, high chance of it not being a very healthy coworker or partnership dynamic. Particularly in a setting where they’re with Nightmare, or at least Killer is.

But there could potentially be some wholesome or sweet moments in their understanding, even if the thing that they understand about each other is that they aren’t like the others around them.

[alexanderwales]

Game Review: The Roottrees are Dead

When I played Obra Dinn shortly after it came out, I thought "man, that was great, they should make a hundred of these, this should be a whole genre", and on reflection, that would actually be a terrible idea, because what made it great was the storytelling, the attention to detail, and the loving care that went into it. As I've learned from the wave of games that take inspiration from Stardew Valley, there are some genres that I only like if they have a lot of attention to detail and artistry.

The Roottrees are Dead very clearly follows in the footsteps of Obra Dinn, and while it doesn't quite hit the same highs, I think it's a worthy successor that forges its own path and helps to establish what's possible within the space.

In The Roottrees are Dead you play as an investigator in the late 1990s (1998 for the original, 1999 for Roottreemania), looking into the Roottree family to uncover some of there secrets. You do this almost entirely through a simulacrum of the early internet, with a pre-Google web search, periodicals, and checking out books from the local library. Gameplay entails combing through these documents to see what there is to search, then making some deductions to put information up on the sprawling family tree. Just like in Obra Dinn, you get your guesses "confirmed" after you've locked in some number of correct entries, which helps to narrow down the search space.

It's a good game. I recommend it if you like research and puzzles and deduction.

I think mostly I want to talk about how it feels to play this game, and what I think makes it work in a way that's totally different from other detective/puzzle games.

First, and I think this is very important, you can search almost everything, and you are often rewarded for this. Every name, every company, every book, all of them can be searched in one way or another. Sometimes it's the web search, and if that turns up nothing, sometimes you can search the periodicals, except that you don't start out knowing the names of the periodicals. And when you do get the name of one, it opens things up, because you can go searching using this new resource.

Sometimes the information isn't quite right, so you have to think it through. Use someone's maiden name, or find out what a book was retitled to for its second publication, or figure out how the thing you're searching for would be referenced. This is all the kind of thing that I find really enjoyable, and more so than in real life, because the feedback is instant. Even if you hit a dead end, the game will usually have some text for you, and sometimes it'll tell you it's a dead end with a little story, ending with "unfortunately none of this seems relevant to the Roottree family".

What you're ultimately doing is creating this whole web of information, picking up names from articles you read and tracking them down, which gives you more articles and more names. You have some understanding of these people and their relationship to each other. You get to know the history in this very unconventional way. It's pretty unrealistic, but my suspension of disbelief was mostly fine.

Locking things in feels great, particularly because it means that you're removing a possibility from your list of names, making everything easier in the next go. This was something clearly borrowed from Obra Dinn, and I'm glad, because it works so well and feels so rewarding. New here are "optionals" that get confirmed whenever a lockin of the main family happens, and this is a great evolution of the concept.

There are two places where the game let me down a little bit, and both have to do with the pictures. The first issue is that I wanted the pictures to be of a higher quality. The web version had AI images, which were a little wonky, and got flak for it, so the images were (apparently) hand-drawn for the release on Steam when people were paying money for it. And they're still a little wonky, which is surely a budget issue, and maybe a little bit an art direction issue. I don't like criticizing thing for their lack of budget, but man, there were places where I felt it here.

The second issue with the pictures is that these tend to be the worst kinds of clues. People just do not talk about appearance and clothing in these ways, and it always feels clunky in the way that other clues (usually) don't. They're necessary, because this is part of the core gameplay, matching pictures to names, but it feels to me like the weakest part.

New to the Steam version is "Roottree Mania", which deals with a crisis of "extras" to add to the family tree, those who are products of affairs. It's basically the same in structure, and proof to me that this concept has legs: the focus is different, but you're engaging in the same gameplay. I would say that overall, I enjoyed Roottree Mania about as much as the main game, even if the scope was somewhat less focused.

And like before, I find myself thinking "they should make a million of these", but I know that this is only as good as it is because there's significant dedication and care put into it, and you can't just "copy" it and expect for it to be playable or good. You need those little moments when things snap into place, when something confusing reveals itself to be well-ordered. You need puzzles to work out, inconsistencies to uncover, information working together. And that's hard, and it's something I'm happy this game was able to do.

[sovietyaoi]

First of all when I wrote about creating fandom content I wasn’t talking about myself or shipping crowferi in any way but about things like fanfiction/fanart/headcanons/any other type of fandom content. I was reffering to you writting about how it annoys you when people mischaracterize character and ignore canon. Before posting something like that I feel like you should have considered that nobody’s perception and interpretation of characters is perfect (neither is yours) and facts from canon can be interpreted in different ways, so getting upset over something like that is counterproductive. And yes, people are going to ignore canon wile creating fandom content. That’s like the whole point of transformative works.

As for me mentioning the inspiration for Ferid and Crowley I suppose it was a little random, allow me to elaborate. The reason I didn’t earlier is because it will take a while and I’m not even sure you’re going to read this with understanding but here we go.

When I first came across people calling crowferi incest I found it very surprising, for a very simple reason. There are many pieces of vampire media where vampire and their creator are reffered to in familial terms, in OnS it’s sire/progeny, another popular one is maker/fledling, yet romantic/sexual relationships between them are never considered incest. I don’t think it’s hard to imagine a vampire turning their human lover and then what, are they supposed to be like “oh wait, we’re family now, sorry :/”. I mentioned the characters Ferid and Crowley are based on – Lestan and Louis from IWTV, because the familial/vampiric relations in that book are very complicated and show very well why claiming crowferi is incest doesn’t make sense. In short – Lestat (on whom Ferid is based) turns Louis (on whom Crowley is based), yet they don’t share a familial relationship and don’t refer to each other as family. What I say now might seem like I’m doing some mental gymnastics but bear with me – their relationship is not explicitly romantic, yet that’s how it’s usually interpreted. I have no idea why author chose to do this, maybe some American literature critic can explain it, but’s that’s how it is (also in the latest. version of the story their relationship is both romantic and sexual). Then Lestat turns Claudia and tells Louis that she’s their daughter, even though he only gave her his own blood (also he calls himself her mother at some point). Claudia ends up being closer to Louis and referring to him as her father and to Lestat as uncle, even thought technically he’s her sire. And also Lestat had at some point turned his own mother so by your logic she would be his child?

Another good example is Vassalord, which is basically Ferid and Crowley but it’s a bl. Rayflo turns Cherry into a vampire, he sometimes jokingly refers to him as his son, their relationship is again, romantic and sexual.

Also I think it’s good to point out that no vampire aside from Ferid refers to other vampire’s as his family. Ferid only does so joking, which you can see from the fact he either calls Crowley his son or his brother. The reason why he switches it up is because he’s not being serious.

Now answering to you writing that the relationship between Ferid and Crowley isn’t romantic, I think something you forget about is that just because somebody ships something doesn’t mean they believe it’s canon. I’ve never claimed their relationship is romantic, there are however scenes between them that can be interpreted as romantic, for example Crowley saying he doesn’t mind having his mind fried because he just wants to learn more about Ferid in the latest chapter, and I’d say their relationship is homoerotic.

Lastly I’ll never get over how people use that one scene where it’s literally said Ferid feels no desire for women as an argument as to why he’s straight. I understand your point, but it’s still ironic to me.

I’ll be honest – to me the kind of thinking “all characters are straight until proved queer” or “if a character expressed interest in opposite gender (or lack I guess?/j) they must be straight” is just homophobic. I have sad news for you – queer people do in fact exist and sometimes they are even showed in media. Unless officially confirmed character’s orientation is up for interpretation and Ferid has many qualities that can be interpreted as queer (androgynous appearance, him flirting with Crowley). Coming from somebody who has, I assume, more experience with queer media the scene you mentioned, when Ferid thinks he wishes he felt desire towards women can be interpreted in queer way (queer people wishing they were straight since it’s considered normal). That is especially true since vampirism is often used as allegory for being queer (like in IWTV). I personally don’t interpret it that way, but it’s still extremely funny when people use it as an argument that Ferid is straight while it can be understood like that.

kami's rage

[acoraxia]

I think people misunderstood my macaque post

Ah well you win some you lose some

[itspileofgoodthings]

sometimes I make a post and then have to save it to drafts so I can gauge if it’s too shallow/flippant for me to share with the general public.

[dawdlecentric]

Man, this doujin isn't fucking around

Meanwhile, Seikuri in the background...

Doujin: Flashbackers by Totobe

[acaciapines]

on today's episode of 'acaica's background thoughts for the dess raises kris au': okay but lets be serious do dess and chara actually stay together in the end--

[r1ghtwhereyouleftme]

Me: I hate [insert thing here] discourse

Also me: *gets so annoyed when people are blatantly stupid and do things thay make zero sense therefore making me go along with discourse bc I can only handle so much stupidity*

[phiniusandjelly]

Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!

I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.

But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.

Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.

Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!

And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.

But then he tries to leave.

Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.

Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.

Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.

But either way, it doesnt work.

He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.

Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.

He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.

Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.

He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.

And he is trapped.

And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.

After hes been more or less kidnapped.

He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.

And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).

but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!

Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!

He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!

He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.

Most importantly, he knows their goals

But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.

And has no idea what they want

And Danny just freezes up

This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.

You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue

I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat

Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.

And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.

I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”

JL would not be happy about any of his responses.

Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day

[nemesyaaa]

sweet creature // truck driver!rafe x housewife!reader

summary : just a few mixed headcanons.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. strong age gap. sweetheart x old man trope. smut. p in v. teasing. smoking. size difference. full nelson position bc big men lovers club here. hand fetish(sorry.). sleazy!rafe. squirting. loss of virginity. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : muchas gracias a mi dulce @rafesangelita for giving me the idea bc i really loved to work on the concept of truck driver!rafe. shout out to crush by ethel cain too for give me the inspo of the story. <333

can't stop thinking about truck driver!rafe who's a proud working man. he's soooo bulky from charging alone some weighty goods on his eight wheelers everyday to deliveries driving for weeks and days. he's massive without forcing just because he's doing so hard with his hands on daily.

speaking of this, he's got such big sized hands. apparent thick veins on the back and calloused on the palms. large fingers with too much strength. easier for him to manhandle you or lift you up. they're very manly and rough. fat and round biceps with a strong size. he's tall and big, literally showing you without speaking who’s the man of the house, and who you belong to. you feel so secure every time he's around because you can be sure no one is touching you, no one is looking down at you, no one just dare to even glance at you. he doesn’t like to fight because he doesn't want you to think he's gonna hurt you one day, but if it's for you, he can do anything.

even if you don't like it, he's always smoking a bunch of cigarettes while he's driving and listening to some kind of old music. john denver or johnny cash are his favs.

he's always buying some new marlboro reds at the gas station with some gum when he's taking a break. if he's not smoking, he's chewing some gums until there is no flavor. he's just needs to get something in his mouth. just a bad habit.

he’s a loyal man that doesn't care about women hitting on him at the gas station. but sometimes, he's nostalgic because years ago , you were one of them. you were that pretty rebelious girl who's acting like she has no dad, no family and proudly flirting with him, doesn't give a fuck about getting away with a stranger. at first, you called him old man to joke. at contrary, he directly called you sweetheart, thinking that you're such a sweet thing.

both of you ended up in the motel. “ im curious of what you’ve got in your pants, old man. ” “ you're too young for that shit. ” “ huh, huh…don't you think it's more like you're too old for that shit, sir ? ” the smirk on his face at the moment was really something else. that fucking attitude of yours making him bite his lips.

the minute after, you were pinned down on the mattress, his whole body size over yours. “ repeat it. ” “ i said, you're too old to fuck, sir. ” “ isn’t a fucking virgin thing who doesn't even know anything about the word she's saying who's talking right now ? ” “ I'm not a virgin. ” you lied, rolling your eyes at the sight. “ i swear, I'm not ! ” he laughed softly. “ why are you lying, so eager to be a little slut ? that's why you ran away with strangers like me ?” it was the first time a man like that, and you were speechless. not in a bad way. it was just surprising. “ i think you're forgetting your manners. ” he said carefully, his blue gaze burning over yours.

“ if you want it, i will fuck you. but i need you to say it. clear and ‘oud. ” you turned your head away because there's no way you're gonna say such a thing to him. “ i will find someone else then. that receptionist girl was pre…” “ fuck me. ” you quickly said before repeating it slower and clearly. “ i want you to fuck me…” “ alright. spread those fucking legs for me, sweetheart…huh, look at you, being so wet for me…you really need me.” “ ugh, just touch me ! stop talking, old man. ” you gasped. “ remember that you asked for it. ”

“ yea, yea. ” he started to unbuckle his belt before taking off his pants. your mouth was gagging at his fat cock hanging between his heavy thighs. “ it’s not gonna suck itself. ” you gasped loudly, swallowing hard. “ i j-just don't know how to do it…show me please. ” “ fine. after all, it's my job as your eldest. ”

and that's how you consumed your first night with rafe.

truck driver!rafe who’s got such a pretty polaroid of you that stays and never leaves his truck. there is your lipstick stains on it and a sweet “ good luck ” written on the white space.

as a good housewife, you always prepare him some delicious meals to keep him fed even if he's away. you're always checking on your man' and loves when he's gaining more weight.

he's starting to get old, hitting his forties soon. he doesn't really care about his physic anymore but you still find him so attractive. when you met him, he was already a grown man so it didn't really change anything. he loves to wear a cap on his messy mullet, thinking that it makes him look cool. biggest tees with long sleeves lover. the fabric is not good enough to hide his muscular frame because his big size is so obvious. and he's wearing those blue jeans that fit his muddy boots.

he's not very hairy, but he's not the type to shave often like he used to when he was younger. he's fine with the apparent thick hair of his happy trail and mustache that makes him look like an 80's pornstar. when he's come home, shirtless and sweating, he's just serving you the best look to fuck.

you're obsessed with his scent after a long shift work. you don't care how strong he smells, you just want to hug him and never leave. while he's holding you tight, he's getting you locked on his hug, your face buried against his heavy and glistening chest. and you can't help but kiss his wet sweating tee.

even if he's tired, just knows this man gonna fuck you very hard, especially when you're so clingy to him. you can forget vanilla with truck driver!rafe, there's no way he's gonna be sweet on your fucking pussy, especially after you've been teasing him with dirty pictures of yourself while he was away and driving. also, he does need some stress relief so prepare to be dumb for at least one fucking day raw.

he's excited the moment he sees you. there is no more teasing. he's now in charge of everything and you better take everything he's gonna give you. this is not like he gives you other choices. at this moment, his favorite position to fuck you will be full nelson because you're trapped on his tight muscular hold, forced to bounce on the thickness of his dick. he's dicking you down so hard that you could hear the famous flap flap flap of his heavy balls slapping your skin.

“ don't fucking move. ” he treaths you with the raspy sound of his voice, while your body is bouncing at every of his thrusts. you're shaking loudly on his rocked abs, lips filled with drool and tears running down your heated cheeks. ” you're so fucking tight..! gonna give your pussy a big stretch…fuck ! ”

every back and forth is powerful enough to make your pussy throbs. the way his fleshy cock is moving and bruising your hole — going further and further to the point your stomach is filled with every inch of his shaft, the veiny lines of his dick pulsating inside your cunt and growing harder on your belly. all your whines and cries are nothing for the truck driver, nothing more than a sign to fuck you even faster and stronger. he still holding your twitching body against his toned chest, feeling every squirms of yours on his sweaty skin, and his hands grips at your back legs, while giving you the craziest thrusts. his hands feel so warm and huge on your lower tummy, fingers bruising at your belly while his length is striking to your spot each time. “ you're d-deep…fuck, rafe !! ah…it feels so good…” you cry out of emotions, tears bursting on your face again. “ yea, right ? fucking deep’. you really feel it inside you baby. ”

he's stretching your cunt so well that you can't stop screaming and quivering, feeling his sweat sticking to your body. his breathing is hard and heavy on the side of your cheeks, his jaw slacks but he keeps his mouth wide open loudly panting and getting deeper and stronger, lips tugging at your ears.

he's such a bully. i mean, his dick is. hitting and hitting your g-spot with any fucking breaks, always striking at it like a weapon. getting no mercy and pity on the way he's making you cry. he loves to see your face turning dumb, eyes wide shut, mouth leaking too much saliva, stupid babbles coming from your trembling lips. he's just pushing himself so deep inside your swollen core, breathy moans filling his lips as his cock hardly twitch between your walls, making your throbs even more. you can't even breathe without choking on yourself.

it's like he knows how to take all your energy with his thrusts. his cock won't leave your pussy alone, the veins still hard and bulged with pumping blood, and balls full even after your first orgasm. but not only he wanted you to come but to squirt too.

“ r-rafe, i feel it coming…nghh! ah stop. i c-ca…” “ just let it go, baby. can you do that for me ? ” and it happens just two seconds after, your stretched pussy opening bigger to splash a strong liquid over your folds and making a pool everywhere on yourself. you can't even process the situation that his dick is back into your walls again, merciless pounding your wetted hole. with the same fucked pace. you're such a shivering mess you can't feel anything except the length that's driving hard in your soaked insides. now that you're squirted, it's such a big wet place on your cunt. and he leads him to make you squirt another time. the sound of your pussy pumping his dick is so squishy and loud.

when he comes inside you, you can be sure it's gonna leak a lot from your slick. he's gonna fuck until his balls are empty, and your pussy gonna coats with so much of his sperm.

to be sure of his cock being dry, he's softly slapping at your lips with the tip, and making you clean it. he loves how sloppy you're sucking when you're tired, but he's a hard sucker for the look you give him when his dick weakly falls out of your mouth, and a stream of his sperm sticks at your lower lips.

and you're just off, laying your body back to the sheets.

you can't believe this man was soon forties. you simply can't believe it.