#sooooo this ended up being a lot longer than I thought

[katiekatdragon27]

Guys you don't understand how much I love these two. (Oh yeah, and Finn's there too)

Glisten: Awww~ Shrimpo, you remembered Shrimpo: B*tch I'm in LOVE with you, of course I REMEMBERED! Glisten: What!? Wait really?? This is very sudden wow! (You said you were straight?) Shrimpo: AAAAAAAAAA

Finn: (yapping) Shrimpo and Glisten: SHUT THE F*CK UP, FINN!! Shrimpo and Glisten: ... Shrimpo and Glisten: (kissing)

The first comic takes place before the two started dating. Shrimpo is really really really bad at expressing emotions other than anger and frustration, so anytime he tries to express anything, he just blurts out his feelings without thinking. Then he gets second-hand embarrassment lol. Glisten was pretty aware that Shrimpo liked him before, but he's pretending to be surprised to make Shrimpo "feel better" (also to mildly embarrass him lol).

Also, I think that Shrimpo and Glisten bonding over hating Finn is very based and true. They need that autistic man to SHUT UP/silly

I think Shrimpo and Finn are very cousin coded. Not close enough to be siblings but definitely got some familial genes going on imo (plz don't shoot me Shrimpbowl shippers🙏🙏🙏) Doesn't stop Shrimpo from being violent towards Finn tho, and Finn does nothing to deter it lol (he finds it funny). Also, Glisten throws no punches bc he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.

Finn: Sooooo?? How was the daaaate~ Finn: No need to be such a clam about it! Shrimpo: I'M SO KILLING YOU!

The second image takes place the day after this post lol. Shrimpo is recovering from a hangover covered in lipstick kisses and super conflicting emotions and Finn is NOT helping.

On the other end, I've been thinking about Shimmer a lot lol. So here is a doodle of her with her "sister aunt" Toodles, and Pebbles.

They all get along super well. In this pic, Toodles is like 12ish and Shimmer is 4 (but her weird biology made her age up to like 7 here). Pebble is pebble, that's all you need to know.

Also, I was in a horror-ish mood earlier so here are some Twisteds <33 (below cut cuz kinda scary):

I love you angst comfort. My sib pointed out while playing one day that Shrimpo looked traumatized as a Twisted, which like, fair, but it make me think.

Glisten: "They say you are not here anymore. But I think you are."

I had this silly idea that Twisted Shrimpo was infected by Dandy personally, and that whole conflict got Shrimpo's lower jaw ripped off. He is very violent and volatile, and very hard to calm down. But, when he runs into a twisting Glisten alone and scared, he comforts him (to the best of his ability).

Since Glisten is still able to be somewhat conscious, he realizes that the Twisteds are actually not completely gone like he originally thought, and it helps him keep his sanity longer, hoping for a way out for everyone.

Willpower is a crazy thing.

On the complete opposite note, I love you horrifying freak of ichor child.

Since Shimmer was made from the ichor itself with no sort of skeleton or solid foundation, her condition is very unstable. And the problem is that her body is affected by her emotions. On a bad day, she can suffer from lots of pain and her body literally melting away. That's when she hides out and waits for her body to stabilize again.

When she completely twists, her body completely falls apart, becoming a puddle of ichor on the ground. If she was an encounterable twisted, she would work like Sprout's puddle root things, but easier to maneuver around and avoid. Also, her antenna glow.

Mini yap session aside, I think I cooked on the art lol.

Anyways, the og images lol:

Have a good one pookies!

[iwillhityouwithachair]

Concept:

Aliens with long tails meet human children (oh god)

Blitsk was visiting the human planet, Earth, to study it. They, along with their crewmates and their human companion, were heading into their temporary living quarters.

They had to crouch as they walked through the human nest, being careful of their wide shoulders and long tail.

Humans kept so many fragile things. Blitsk wondered of their purpose as they passed a particularly shiny rectangle on the wall.

"You'll be staying in these apartments while you're here," said the human female, giving Blitsk and the others a small thing they had come to know was "paper". There were symbols on it they did not recognize. They would have to ask Vahlo, a master of the human language.

"I will be staying in this apartment," said the human, gesturing to one of the many doors.

They all looked the same. How were they supposed to remember which one it was?

"If you need anything, let me know. Now-" The human was interrupted by a smaller human running out into the square tunnel.

"Mommy! Mommy!" it squealed, tugging on the female's limb.

Blitsk's ears flattened at the horrible noise. Their crewmates did the same.

The small human stopped in its tracks as the female attempted to usher it inside. It lifted a hand to point at the nearest crew member, which happened to be Blitsk. Their eyes widened in surprise, looking around.

"Mommy," it whispered. "What's that?"

The female cringed, stopping her attempts to hide the little one. "That," she said, dropping down to whisper in its ear, "is my friend, Blitsk."

"Mommy! Is that.. an alien?" it whispered.

"Yes," the female chuckled.

Blitsk's tail lashed impatiently, waiting to be dismissed. Suddenly, they felt something touch their tail, and turned to look.

The small human had taken hold of their tail, eyes wide. Noticing their gaze, it giggled and tried to hide behind their tail by putting it in front of itself.

"Mommy! They have tails!"

Blitsk was unsure of the human custom when it came to tails, considering they had none. They looked at the female for answers.

The female shrugged. "Children, right? If she's bothering you-"

"Mommy! Look!" The little one jumped up and down, still holding Blitsk's tail.

"What is it doing?" Blitsk grunted to Saggl, who was standing nearby.

Saggl knew a lot about human young, they knew. Saggl simply shrugged and grumbled, "I think the young one likes you."

Blitsk turned their head toward the human youngling, remembering what they had learned about what humans called "pets". They reached out slowly with their clawed hand. The little one stilled, looking at Blitsk with wide eyes. They lightly ruffled the youngling's head fur, careful of their claws.

"What's your name?" it asked softly.

"I am called Blitsk."

"Hi, Blitsk. I'm Tessa." The little one smiled up at Blitsk.

Blitsk mimicked the human "smile", baring some of their teeth in a show of affection.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

.

one of my major problems with my job is that I get sososo tired of trying to figure out how to interact with people in a way that is honest, productive, but also doesn't bruise anyone's egos, and I can feel myself getting worse at it as time goes on and it's genuinely what drains me and stresses me out the most by far

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[changisworld]

thoughts on coparenting with bangchan? But in the end they get together again and YKYYK🤭🤭

main masterlist here

Ohmygodnfbddnsn

Definitely still sooooo respectful to you even though you’re both separated now, both of you staying as ‘friends’ as such & you still allow him into the home he used to share with you in order to see your kid & HE IS JUST THE BEST DAD EVER LIKE CMON WOULD HE EVER BE ANYTHING LESS?!?

puts in 100% effort every single time he is visiting so you can relax a bit more, just taking the strain off you completely which can’t not make your heart spin just a little bit.

Definitely still likes to tease you though(thank god for your baby not knowing words yet lol) & says things like:

“aren’t you just bored with one kid? we can always have another, make the numbers even”

“we could still get a lot more use out of the crib & toys, maybe it’s a sign” he chuckles as he looks at you, not actually joking

He still knows exactly what to do to make your heart flutter & best believe he does just that, calling you “mommy” while talking to the baby, feeling your stomach despite not having a bun in the oven anymore & even giving you forehead kisses before saying he is so happy that you’re who he shares a baby with.

Always insists on sitting behind you & letting you sit in between his legs as you feed the baby, Chan caressing your opposite tit in the meantime as he rests his chin on your shoulder, afraid to blink incase he misses anything as he pinched your opposite nipple, watching as the milky white liquid coats & runs past his fingertips, making him hum. (channie + lactation kink is 100% real)

Whenever you both hook up (pretty much every time the baby is sleeping) HE IS SO GENTLE TOWARDS YOU because he likes to think you’re fragile, even more so after pregnancy.

“So beautiful f’me y/n, so perfect”

“Look at you creaming my dick baby, you miss it that much?”

“Gripping me so tight, glad to k-know nobody else is fucking you the way i can” he smirks to you as he leans down to kiss you, cock not faltering it’s pace.

“tits are so f’ll y/nnie, don’t you wanna keep them that way? have me fuck yet another baby into you?”

“You can have it any time you want again, just gotta say the words.” he groans to you as he has your legs on his shoulders as he pounds into your puffy cunt & you do say the words & that obviously makes him cum no more than five seconds later with a loud, drawn out whine.

A/N; i’m not sure if this is what you fully wanted but i couldn’t wait any longer to write it despite being at work rn i got too excited hehehe

[wintrwinchestr]

bite the hand

the killer & the sound - chapter 3

summary: you hadn't expected joel to put such an abrupt end to... whatever it is you two had. or, what you thought you had, anyway. you write and perform a new song on the second night of the tour about it, and the consequences aren't quite what you expected them to be. how could something that seemed so simple at first have become so complicated?

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, no use of y/n, rockstar!joel, aspiring rockstar!reader, d/s dynamics, pretty major daddy kink, age gap (reader is early-mid 20’s, joel is early-mid 50’s), pet names (sweetheart, darlin', baby, babygirl, songbird(!!), etc), big time angst, daddy/mommy issues, religious shame, degradation (joel calls you a whore), spanking, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, manhandling, one (1) kiss, spitting, smoking (reader & other characters), drinking (reader & other characters), getting walked in on, characters who need therapy sooooo badly, lots of internal monologue, let me know if i missed any!!

word count: 13.2k

a/n: as always, thank you so much for your patience and sticking around to see what i put our pookies through this time. these chapters just keep getting longer and longer but it's not my fault they have a lot to say!!!!! if you'd like an idea of what reader's lil diss track sounds like, i very much imagined gibson girl by ethel cain when i wrote it. thank you as always to my best babygirl kiers i love u to death. i hope you like this one, nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed!!

series masterlist

read this chapter on ao3

divider by @saradika-graphics

Jesus Christ, what the hell is he doing?

Joel has been in the shower for at least thirty minutes now, and he’s spent more than half of that time just letting the scalding water pound against his back as his vision goes blurry from the steam. He finished his “rinse off” within five minutes of stepping inside the bathroom, and now he’s just stalling, wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to go back out there and get in bed with you.

If it weren’t for the decades’ worth of tattoos that he can see when he looks down at his bare body, he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself right now. He’s always been one to hit it and quit it, love ‘em and leave ‘em, or whatever little figure of speech you want to use for just being a fucking playboy. Since when has he ever cleaned a girl up, given her his clothes to wear, let her sleep over after he fucks her? Though, he has to give himself some credit, it’s not like he was planning on letting you stay. He was just trying to preserve some of your dignity, but then, when did he even decide to start caring about shit like that? 

Fuck.

When the tour bus jerks to life as the driver begins the trip to the next city, the loss of balance is enough to finally snap Joel out of the uncharacteristic morality spiral he’s now found himself in. He rubs his hands across his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and cursing under his breath, knowing that he can’t hide in here and avoid you forever. Besides, he’s getting old, and he has to sleep at some point if he wants to be at least a little functional tomorrow. And what is he so fucking scared of, anyway? 

Joel turns off the water, and the knob screeches in protest as the dull roar of the shower fades into silence. He steps out of the stall and hardly makes any effort to dry himself off, solely focused on getting out of there before the fog evaporates from the mirror and he’s forced to confront his own reflection. He shakes out his hair and pulls on a clean pair of briefs, then sends out a silent prayer to whoever the fuck might be listening, begging for help in making it through the night without having to address whatever it is that’s gnawing at his conscience. He didn’t even think he had one of those anymore.

Joel enters the bedroom quietly, hoping that you’d be exhausted enough to have fallen asleep by the time he returned. When you don’t even twitch as he shuts the door behind him and climbs under the covers, he lets out the breath he’d been holding, and lays himself down as close to the edge of the mattress as he can without falling off the damn thing. If he can put as much distance between the two of you as possible tonight, maybe he can make it out the other side unscathed.

Just when he thinks he’s in the clear, having settled himself down with his back to you and situated his silk sheets and pillows to his liking, he feels you roll over in your sleep as you let out some dreamy little whine. Joel likes to keep it cold on the bus, and your shivering form must feel the heat still radiating off of him from his shower, because then you’re wrapping your little arms around his bicep and pulling him close. He wants to shake you loose, to put some extra pillows in between your bodies just for good measure, but he can’t be so cruel. Not when you look like such a goddamn angel, sleeping so peacefully with your hair spread out around you like a halo, long lashes fluttering against your cheeks. He wonders what you’re dreaming about. 

Joel isn’t sure when exactly it happened, but somewhere in between that very first rehearsal and right now, the lines started to blur between a fun little fling he wasn’t going to think twice about letting go of once the tour ended, and something that he wants to sink his claws into and claim as his own. He has to face it now, whether he wants to or not—he can’t get himself to push you away, to growl at you not to touch him and to stay on your own side of the bed, because he doesn’t want to. What he wants is to tattoo his fucking name right underneath that shitty moth on your upper thigh, and therein lies the problem.

He has a history of breaking things, of being too controlling and rough and mean when he plays with his toys, until they fight back and tear themselves apart as they escape his clutches. But you seem like something that can’t be broken, that would glue itself back together just to get played with again the next day, and that sets off some alarms he didn’t know he was capable of hearing. Maybe he does still have a conscience, after all.

At first, Joel had liked how eager and willing and naive you were, how easily he could push and pull you this way and that because you didn’t seem to realize what this was. Or at least, what it was intended to be. Whether you were smart to his intentions or not was never really his concern before, but now… You’re nuzzling your face into his arm, breathing in his scent and letting it soothe you as it coats your senses, and it’s awakening something protective, possessive, in him. Joel has never been good at romance or love or relationships, and he had resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he’d never be able to settle down. The life he lives can’t sustain something steady or healthy like that anyway, what with the touring and the groupies and the sex and the alcohol. 

But now here you are, this fragile and yet unbreakable thing in his bed who he worries wouldn’t run away no matter how much he growled and bared his teeth. And god dammit, that scares him. Joel had thought he was done being scared, that he had left that feeling behind before you were even born, probably. And yet, here it is creeping up on him again, grabbing him by the throat and suffocating him. You’ve got real talent and beauty, with a promising future and blossoming career ahead of you, and you’d probably give it all up and follow him into the darkness if he promised to call you a good girl once you did.

Joel has never been a very good man, but something about you makes him really have to stare down the barrel of it now. He can’t do this to you, he can’t let you in, and he knows that. He’d poison you, if he hasn’t already. And he can’t give to you what you seem to think this is, what it could be, if he wasn’t so fucking damaged. So he decides it then, as he doesn’t stop his hand from brushing a stray strand of your halo out of your delicate face, that he has to put a stop to this first thing in the morning. And he has to be cold and concise about it, so that you’re perfectly clear on what the two of you are going to be from now on, even if it hurts you. You’re a big girl, and he trusts that you’ll get over it somehow, because letting this continue would hurt you a hell of a lot worse, in the end.

And you seemed to have taken it well, all things considered. He didn’t tell you the whole truth, the real reason why he decided to yank the arrow out of your heart when he was the one who shot it in there in the first place. Because then you’d know that he’s a broken man who also breaks things, and he can only shatter so many of your illusions about him in one morning. He knows this is his fault, and he was at least man enough to take the blame, he can give himself that. He had decided to paint himself as an actually respectable person who knows when he’s taken something too far, who definitely does have a conscience. Maybe you’re the one who lured it out of the dark cave it was hiding in, but he still can’t risk anything, on the off chance that he still is the same mangled man he always was and the one he will continue to be. So he lies to you, just a little bit, because what you don’t know won’t hurt you, and he can’t let you come any closer for fear of causing even more pain than he already has. 

Joel watched as your bare legs carried you out of the living area and off of his bus, the tops of your thighs just barely concealed by his shirt he had lent you the night before. He didn’t react when you slammed the door on your way out, he had expected you to do as much. But he did half-expect you to turn around and spit a fuck you, Joel at him the way he would have deserved. It might have hurt less if you did, that way you would have left a sour taste in his mouth to replace the still-lingering flavor of your pussy mixed with the cum he had spilled inside you last night. 

God, he is so fucked.

—

You had made sure to thank the audio technicians before you disappeared from the venue after your sound check, but otherwise avoided looking at or speaking to anyone on your way out. Especially him. You had held Angel close as you swiftly made your way back to your bus before Death’s Head had a chance to take the stage for their turn, not wanting to hear any more of Joel’s voice than you’ve had to today. Besides, it’s already been looping like a skipping record in your mind since this morning, refusing to let up no matter how hard you try to drown it out. 

Mistake, respect, and professional are the choice words that are chanting themselves over and over again, so many times that they almost don’t sound real anymore, just a random sequence of letters and noises that you can’t make sense of. What happened last night didn’t feel like a mistake to you, especially not when he was so gentle in cleaning you up afterwards, when he brought you a glass of water, when he let you curl up against him in his bed, wearing his clothes. He sure as hell had plenty of time to decide that you were worthy of respect before he had you act like a whore on stage in front of tens of thousands of people for his own sick pleasure. (And apparently yours, but that’s not the point.) And now you’re supposed to believe that he suddenly had a change of heart overnight, that splitting you open on his cock and using your body to get what he wanted made him finally develop a moral compass and decide that he wants to start acting like a professional? Damn, maybe you are more powerful than you thought. 

You just can’t believe you were stupid enough to let yourself feel something for him. He was just playing you like his guitar this entire fucking time, a pretty instrument that he can pluck and strum and draw pretty noises from, then put away without a second thought. He’s a celebrity, a rockstar, for fuck’s sake. Half of his songs are about sex, and if the rumors are true, he recorded the original intro to Kiss it Better while he was hooking up with some groupie in a bathroom. Just like you, he had probably used her to get what he wanted, then dropped her like it was nothing. Of course he never fucking cared about you. 

You should burn the clothes that he sent you scurrying back to your bus wearing this morning. They’re currently shoved into the bottom of your plain-looking laundry bag in the corner of your room, though you’re half tempted to just toss the whole thing into the dumpster behind the venue and set it ablaze. But you know he doesn’t care about material things as much as he does his ego, and it’s going to be much more satisfying to set that on fire than some worn-out pieces of clothing, anyway. Destroying them also wouldn’t do anything about the way you keep catching an inhale of his cologne every once in a while, the masculine smell of it wafting from his t-shirt and carving out an undesired space for itself in your brain. You try to ignore the way your cunt flutters against your will at the scent, at the memories it conjures, and hope that she doesn’t develop a habit of betraying you like this when it comes to him. She almost gets the better of you, tempting you to second guess your plan to perform your scathing new song at the end of your set tonight.

Almost.

You’re feeling good about what you wrote, and you’d be even more upset with yourself if you backed out now, if you gave in to Joel once again, without him even knowing it this time. He seems to think that he knows you better than you know yourself, that he can make decisions for you and that he always knows just what to say to get you to do as he asks. For once, you want him to be fucking wrong about you.

The show starts in just under an hour, and you’re dedicating your last bit of quiet solitude to solidifying the new words and the motions of your fingers in your memory. While you were scribbling in your notepad earlier today, you had tried to ride the fine line between calling him out so blatantly and using descriptions that were too clichéd, and you’re happy with the in-between that you landed on. The song could be about anyone, but it isn’t, and if the shoe fits when he tries it on, oh fucking well. Plenty of men wear the same size, and if he wants to make yet another thing about himself, that’s not your problem.

Ideally, you had wanted to include the song in your sound check so that your band would be prepared for tonight, until you had let your eyes drift to the side of the stage and saw Joel observing in the darkness, just like he had done while you were performing the night before. You suppose it wouldn’t be very professional of him to avoid you like the plague the way you’re trying to do with him, but still. You had averted your eyes as quickly as you had spotted him, and decided that the song was just going to have to be a surprise for everyone, not just Joel. Your band members are smart enough guys, you’re sure they’ll be able to catch on and back you up when it’s time to unveil what you had been working on all day. But if they don’t, you’re prepared for it to just be you and Angel up there, the same way it has been for as long as you’ve been making music. Until recently, at least.

You’ve opted to get yourself dressed and ready in the safety of your bus, attempting to avoid a repeat of last night’s pre-show interactions with Joel by minimizing the amount of time you actually have to spend inside the venue. You doubt he’ll try anything, but considering how unafraid he was to volunteer himself as a witness to your sound check, you’d rather not risk it. So, you do your best to keep your distance as you make your way off the bus and to the side of the stage with Angel in tow, hoping that your viscous aura alone will be enough to keep him away. 

Your band members are already waiting for you in the wings when you get there, and you tuck yourself safely behind the group of them as you wait for the lights to go down. You ghost your fingers along Angel’s strings one last time, just to make sure that your muscle memory is securely locked into place—it is, because you’re fucking good at this. You don’t need Joel’s whispered praises and soothing touches to know that you’re a star, and you don’t want them. You don’t. You fucking killed it last night, and you knew it before he told you so, because your ears were still ringing long after the audience had finished applauding and screaming for you. For your own performance, not for the on-stage degradation you endured because of a dumb teenage crush you couldn’t seem to shake off.

If your timing is right, you should’ve gone on a few minutes ago now. Each passing minute has you gnawing at your bottom lip and picking at your nails with increasing intensity as you and the audience both become more restless. You aren’t sure what the hold up is, but you just want to get out there and safely away from the possibility of Joel before you make one of your goddamn fingers bleed. You’re so consumed in your destructive self-soothing that you don’t hear the sound of jingling chains and creaking leather approaching you where you stand, followed by a clearing throat and the last voice you want to fucking hear right now.

“Tommy told me they’re jus’ tryin’ to fix a light or somethin’. Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” Joel says, and you stiffen as he speaks. He sounds earnest in the way he addresses the group of you, but the feeling of his gaze lingering on your skin tells you his true intentions.

Your bandmates hum in acknowledgement as they maintain their casual demeanors, while you shift your jaw and remain steadfast in your stoicism. Your face is calm and concentrated, but your fidgeting hands tell a different story, and the telltale habit is most of what prompted Joel to come over here against his better judgment. He so badly wants to take your hands in his so that you’ll stop tearing at your skin, to massage the worry right out of your palms and tell you there’s nothing to be nervous about, just like he did last night. Though, you’d probably bite his goddamn fingers clean off if he even so much as reached out a hand in your direction, and he wouldn’t entirely blame you if you did, considering that he’s more than likely the reason for your agitation.

Instead, he settles for asking, in as neutral of a tone as possible, “You okay, darlin’?”

Your gaze remains focused on the stage, on the mic you should be standing behind right now, if it weren’t for some stupid fucking light. After a pointed beat, you answer him with a short, “I’m fine.”

You can see in your peripheral vision that Joel nods and shifts his weight, moving a little further behind your band and closer to you. He lets a matching bit of silence pass, for some reason not using the opportunity to just turn around and walk away, before speaking again. “Quit messin’ with your fingers.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap, whipping your head to finally face him. You peer up at Joel from under your eyebrows, putting on a stony face and doing your best to look intimidating even as he towers over you. Despite your efforts, your heart still flutters for just a second when your eyes meet, before he drops his own gaze to the floor and takes a step back from you.

“That how this is gonna be?” Joel asks, and you could swear he sounds a little defeated.

“Yeah, it is.”

You turn yourself back to the stage again, and he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself and suppress a reaction to your attitude that he might regret.

“Look, can we–” he starts, but a sudden burst of screams and hollers cuts him off as the venue lights finally dim. You push past your bandmates and stomp your way towards the stage, feeling volatile and as determined as you’ve ever fucking been to give a killer performance tonight. You could’ve spit some real fire at him, told him to leave you the fuck alone like you had been so tempted to, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You don’t even need to check to know that he’s still standing exactly where you left him, and that he’ll probably stay there and watch you the whole time because he doesn’t know what the fuck he wants, apparently. Maybe you should bring him onstage for his public humiliation the same way he did to you, see how he likes it. But you have a little more humanity than he does, and if it all works out, he’ll have to watch you tear him down surrounded by his own bandmates and brother, and that’s gratifying enough for you.

When you and your band have all taken your places, you introduce yourself to tonight’s crowd with a newfound vigor, and begin your set with a chord so resonant it vibrates your bones. The sound surrounds you, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking loose the wallflower version of you who performed these same songs just last night. It feels like a metamorphosis, like the moths that adorn the strap slung around your body and the one etched into your skin finally belong to you instead of him.

—

You sail through your set, never stumbling over a chord or missing a lyric, even in your anticipation to reach the end. While you thank the crowd and wait for their roaring cheers to die down, you finally chance a look at the side of the stage. Just as you had predicted before you went on, Joel’s silver-tipped boots are still planted in the same place they were thirty minutes ago. Perfect.

“Y’all have been amazing tonight, this was so much fun,” you pant into the mic. “I, uh… I actually have one more song before I go, if that’s alright. Just wrote it this morning.”

Another wave of whistles and applause engulfs you as you turn to check on your bandmates, who all wear confused expressions as expected. You step back from the mic to tell each of the guys the key and tempo of what you wrote, and ask if they can maintain something steady and follow along while you carry the melody. When they’ve all gotten the plan, they look at each other and wordlessly communicate a final decision, seeming to be up to the challenge. 

You resume your place at the front of the stage, taking one last look at your victim before beginning to strum the song’s now-familiar echoing intro. The tone is a little Western, and you wrote it that way on purpose, just as an extra hidden jab toward the obnoxious midnight cowboy persona Joel had first lured you in with. Your haunting voice comes in a few measures later, singing lyrics that are unlike anything you’ve written before. They’re darker, more graphic, and they tell the story of a girl and a cold-blooded man covered in leather and tattoos, who got her alone one night and ripped her clothes off and whispered things he didn’t mean while he fucked her. And after everything was said and done, the girl had lied to herself, replaying everything that had happened between her and the cold-blooded man that night, convincing herself that because it felt good, because he was good to her, that it had meant something. She had bared her body and soul to him, only to find out that he had also been lying to her that night, playing with her like a doll who didn’t know any better, who was just happy to get looked at and touched and praised by someone she had once held on such a high pedestal. You let the lights embrace you and warm your skin as you bare yourself once again, trusting this time that it won’t end in shame or hurt or tears. 

When the buildup of your lyrics and chords finally culminate in the song’s cathartic crash, the first thing you feel is relief, like a crushing weight has been lifted off your heart. The crowd’s enthusiastic response to your creation surrounds you, filling your ears and infiltrating your soul, and you can’t help but laugh at the overwhelming feeling. You gesture behind you for your band to meet you at the front of the stage, and you all bow together to another round of raucous cheering before making your way offstage. This time, you do remember to leave Angel behind, satisfied in what the two of you accomplished tonight.

You’re still reveling in the rush of your performance by the time you’re shrouded in the backstage darkness once again, so caught up in the feeling that you nearly forget what your moment of spontaneity was for in the first place. Or rather, who it was for. You didn’t have enough wherewithal to check if Joel would still be lying in wait once you exited the stage, mostly assuming that his ego would get the best of him and he’d just huff his way out to the buses for a smoke once he realized what you were doing.

You assumed wrong.

Before your eyes even have a chance to adjust to the change in lighting, a calloused hand is gripped tight onto your upper arm, dragging you deeper backstage as you exclaim in protest and try to snatch your arm out of the iron hold that traps it.

“What the—Joel?! Get the fuck off me! What are you–”

“Will you fuckin’ quiet down?” Joel hisses next to your ear. “Quit makin’ a goddamn scene, already made enough of one as it is.”

Despite your struggle against him, his size and strength overpower you, and before you know it you’re being shoved into a dressing room, the door getting slammed shut and locked behind you in a second.

“What the fuck, Joel?” you shout up at him as he backs you into the door, finally letting go of your arm to loom over you and brace one of his hands next to your head.

“I can ask you the same goddamn thing. What the fuck was that out there, hm?” He spits back at you.

You massage the aching finger-shaped marks on your skin where he had gripped you, eyeing him with an annoyed expression. “It was just a song, what is your fucking problem?”

He scoffs, rolling his neck as his brows twitch in disbelief. “Just a song, right. Everybody knew that shit was about me.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, both from the anxiety of being confronted like this and the aggravation caused by his egomaniacal tendencies. “You are so fucking self-centered, it’s insane. It could’ve been about anyone—”

“But it wasn’t, huh?” Joel interrupts. “Who else do they know that has a filthy title inked into his hand, as you put it. Gimme a break, sweetheart. As if that same title didn’t have you soakin’ your fuckin’ panties for me last night.”

You hate that you can feel your cunt flutter in response to his words. “Whatever, will you just let me go? This isn’t very professional of you, locking me in your goddamn dressing room just so you can throw a fit,” you retort.

Realization flashes across his face as he steps back from you, breathing a heavy sigh. “Professional…” he speaks quietly, testing out the word, searching for the meaning behind why you had used it so pointedly. “Jesus Christ, is that what this is about? You are such a goddamn child, you know that?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, crossing your arms now that he’s given you the room to do so. “Didn’t seem to think of me that way last night. I’m a big girl, I can do what I want, why do you care so much if I wrote a stupid song about you?”

Joel shuts his eyes, scrunching up his face like he’s fighting against what he wants to say next. “Because, fuck—This ain’t what I wanted, okay? Said I wanted to keep it professional between us, not that I wanted you to make a goddamn fool outta me in front’a God and everybody.”

“Well, what do you want?” You push, stepping into his space as your blood begins to boil over. “Because I thought you fucking cared about me, and then you just told me to get lost this morning, like none of it meant anything to you—”

“Of course it fuckin’ meant somethin’ to me, Jesus Christ.” Joel says, so breathlessly it’s like the words escape his mouth before he can catch them. “Did this for your own goddamn good—”

“Oh, for my own good?”

“Yes, for your own good. Because I know what you want this to be, and I can’t give that to you, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Joel doesn’t answer, but he shifts his jaw like he considers it, and lets your angered breathing fill the silence.

“Huh?” You provoke, hitting your palms against his broad chest once. Your push hardly does anything to knock him off his balance, but you swear it makes his eyes darken. “Why not?” You demand a second time.

You can tell he wants to bite back, but he suppresses the instinct, instead backing away from you as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Y’ know what, I ain’t gonna do this with you right now. We can talk about this later.”

Joel makes for the exit, but you dart in front of the door handle, feet planted firmly on the ground as you block his only way out. You grit your teeth as you stare up at him, daring him to either do something about it or finish what he started.

He takes another steadying breath. “Really ain’t helpin’ your case much right about now. I suggest you move, sweetheart.” His voice registers a somewhat eerie calm, the kind that a storm usually follows.

“You don’t get to back out of this.”

“Ain’t backin’ out. Said we’re gonna talk about it later. Move.”

You stare at each other in strained silence for a few moments, neither of you in the mood to give in to the other. You doubt that you’re about to bear witness to the first time Joel has ever submitted to someone else, so you slide away from the door, making a vow to yourself to find him after the show and force him to make good on his word.

“‘S what I thought,” he huffs, unlocking the door and slinking out into the hallway. He holds his head a little too high for someone too scared to tell you how he feels, like it’ll eat him alive if he admits to anyone that he really does have a heart.

You step out of the room and watch him walk, waiting until he gets a few paces away from you to grumble under your breath, “Self-centered and a fucking coward.”

Either Joel wasn’t as far out of earshot as you had thought, or the angry thudding of your pulse inside your head had made it difficult to tell just how loud you had said your little dig. He stops in his tracks, giving you a second to sweat before turning around to face you. “What was that?” he asks, but you already know he had heard you loud and clear. He begins to stalk towards you, and that predatory sway of his shoulders has you suddenly feeling meek.

“N-nothing,” you lie, backing into the dressing room as he continues his prowl.

“Nah, go ahead. You wanna do this right now, we’ll do it right now. What’d you say, baby? C’mon.” Joel’s movement forces you backward until the base of your spine hits the edge of the vanity table in the room. You wince at the impact and the sound of the door slamming shut again, and then he’s bracing both of his hands on either side of your hips, caging you in. Joel’s hot breath ghosts against your face as his eyes seem to glow a fiery shade you’ve never seen before. “Say it again.”

You swallow hard, nervous eyes flitting around his face, unsure of the safest place to land, or if there even is one. “Called you a coward…” you admit softly, voice trembling.

“Yeah? I’m a fuckin’ coward? What else, hm? Why don’t you use your big girl words and say to my face what you really wanted to say about me out there instead o’ that bullshit lil’ poem you wrote.” He’s just being mean now, lashing out because you hit him where it hurts. But god fucking dammit, there’s something about the way he’s standing over you, how he’s using his size to intimidate you and how the smell of his cologne mingles with the fading aroma of his last cigarette, that begins to cloud your judgment. You can’t help the way a dampness begins to bloom between your thighs as a result of his demeaning words and close proximity.

You figure you don’t have much of a reason to hold anything back anymore, already having pissed him off by threatening his ego twice in one night. “I hate you,” you rasp, which is pretty much what the lyrics of your song boil down to. You do hate him, for saying all the right things and touching you all the right ways to make you think he wanted the two of you to be something, only to throw your naivety in your face, tell you that you’re acting like a child when he’s the one who tried to give up and walk out when something became more complicated than he could handle.

“Yeah, I bet you do. Think you can do better than that, though, huh? Sure had plenty to say earlier, don’t get all shy on me now, sweetheart.” He spits the pet name at you like it’s an insult, coated in the venom dripping from his sharp canines.

“Fuck you,” you snap, eyes welling up and threatening to spill over despite yourself.

Joel spins you around as soon as the words leave your lips, pinning your wrists behind your back with just one of his hands, using the other one to grip your jaw and make you face your own reflection in the vanity mirror. You shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to confront what he’s reduced you to, and he allows you to keep them that way for now.

“You want me to? That why you’re all fired up, ‘cause you need Daddy to fuck this bratty ass attitude outta you?” Joel rumbles next to your ear.

You struggle to shake your head in his hold, mumbling, “No, I don’t.”

“No? So if I reach my hand under this lil’ dress, I ain’t gonna feel that pretty pussy drippin’ for me?”

You aren’t sure why you bother lying to him again, humming an mm-mm that sounds more like a whimper.

“Hmm, let’s see about that, then,” Joel muses, releasing your face from his hold to bend you forward and flip up the skirt of your dress. “Would you look at that… panties are ‘bout fuckin’ soaked through, ain’t they?” You whine as he begins to rub your folds over your underwear, pulling back the crotch of them and letting it go so that you can feel the damp snap of the fabric against your sensitive skin. “Thought you were such a good girl… you like it a lil’ mean, hm? ‘S that why you pulled that stunt tonight, to get Daddy all worked up so he’d treat you the way you really been wantin’?”

You feel a stinging smack on your ass before you’ve even finished muttering a complete No. Joel’s rough hand does nothing to soothe the burn as he rubs it around your smarted flesh, squeezing at the plush of your ass with a possessive grip. “Had just about enough of you lyin’ to me tonight. Why don’t you tell me the goddamn truth and I’ll give you what you want, hm? Gonna ask one more time. You want Daddy to beat up this lil’ brat pussy?” He asks, moving his hand back to the wet fabric of your panties, circling your clit over the material with the pad of his finger.

You can’t help but moan at his crude language, releasing another pulse of wetness in response. “Mmh, yes, please—” you mewl.

“Open your fuckin’ eyes,” Joel barks, and it startles you into obedience. “Yes, who?” he challenges, making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror.

He continues his ministrations over your covered clit, and you force your brain to work through the distraction, to give him what he wants and not earn yourself another spank.

“Y-yes, Daddy, I want it,” you admit, your voice drenched in a pathetic need. 

Joel swiftly yanks your panties to the side, practically tearing them clean off your body with one hand in an effort to expose your swollen core to him, not daring to release your aching wrists from the other one’s hold. He circles your dripping entrance with the rough tips of two of his fingers, not pushing all the way inside just yet.

“Think you owe me a goddamn apology first, hm?” he taunts, using his fingers to smear your ashamed slick around your entrance.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry–” you whine, pushing back into him impatiently.

Smack. “For what, baby? What’re you sorry for?” Joel presses, his harsh spank telling you to stay fuckin’ still. 

“For… for writing that song… for calling you a c-coward… ‘m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry–” you cry. He shoves both of his thick fingers inside you as your reward, carving out space for them inside your little hole as he starts up a bruising pace, the obscene wet sounds of his movements filling the room and mingling with your broken little wails. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, getting ordered around and talked down to and used like this by someone you said you hated only a few minutes ago, but you don’t really care to unpack that right now. Or ever. Maybe you were naive and immature in thinking that this thing you’ve gotten yourself into could ever pan out like what you’ve seen in the movies, but you think you could learn to be content with what he is willing to offer you—praise doled out as easily as he deprives you of it, a firm hand and fingers that can strum along your clit as expertly as he does the strings of his guitar, and a cock that makes you feel like someone else entirely, that can send you somewhere far away and bring you back down to earth at the same time. You let him use his fingers to pound all that angst and fire and attitude out of you as your eyelids flutter shut again, losing yourself in the feeling of him.

“How many times I gotta tell you, huh? Keep ‘em open, look, baby,” Joel commands, letting go of your wrists to deliver a light smack to the side of your face. You fall forward at the sudden release of his hold, catching yourself on the vanity table and digging your nails into the hard surface to ground yourself. His punishing hand forces your gaze straight ahead with a claw-like grip on your jaw, and your eyelids still feel so heavy, everything moving slowly as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your parted lips, smeared mascara, and unfocused gaze paint a debauched version of yourself that you don’t recognize, blurred by the sleepy submissive state he seems to be able to plunge you into so easily. “Take a good goddamn look in the mirror, at what I’m doin’ to you, and you tell me if you really want this.”

Every sharp thrust of his hand against your cunt knocks loose more and more of your ability to think, let alone speak. But you know by now that if Joel demands a response from you, he’ll get one, coherent or not. He seems to like it when your words come out a ruined mess of whines and slurred syllables, anyway, getting off on how hard and fast he can knock down those walls you attempt to put up and turn you into something so servile and saccharine.

“Want it, please, Daddy,” you beg, struggling to hold yourself up as his fingers get you closer and closer to your release.

“You sure about that? ‘Cause this is what you’re gonna get, sweetheart,” Joel grunts, the exaggerated word punctuated by the stretch of a third finger joining the other two inside your already fucked-out cunt.

“D-don’t care, just want you—ah—” you’re cut off by the sudden stroking of Joel’s curled fingers against a particularly tender and unfamiliar spot inside you. You begin to unravel at the overwhelming feeling, letting out little wanton pleases and Daddys as you continue to soak his tattooed hand.

“Fuck, gonna be the goddamn death o’ me, lil’ songbird, you know that? Tried to stop this shit before it could get started, tried to keep you away from me, but I just can’t seem to fuckin’ help myself, can I? We’d be nothin’ but bad for each other, but—shit—been thinkin’ ‘bout this tight cunt all goddamn day, couldn’t get the taste o’ you outta my mouth. Reckon I never will… In fact—” Joel pulls his fingers out of you in an instant, and you cry out from the sudden loss as you watch him suck them clean in the mirror. You feel dizzy, letting him manhandle you as he spins you around to face him and hoists you on top of the vanity table with little effort. He groans as he crouches, pulling your drenched panties down your legs and tossing them somewhere behind him. With your raw-looking cunt now fully exposed to him, he spreads your legs wide and curses under his breath, “Should’a done this shit last night, fuck—” before diving in between your thighs and licking a long stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. He latches onto the sensitive nub, closing his eyes and sucking hard as his large hands force your legs to stay open. You let your upper back rest against the mirror as he works you over, and the cool glass sends a shiver down your spine as your hips tilt upward, allowing him better access.

He drinks from you as if you taste like his favorite top-shelf whiskey, growling into your flesh as he’s surely leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the softness of your thighs. He alternates between swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking it in and out of your hole, beckoning you to spill yourself into his mouth. He savors every wave of slick that pours from you, each of your little cries and whimpers making his cock strain harder against the confines of his jeans. 

You can’t help but let one of your hands drift to his hair, and he doesn’t stop you from grabbing onto his messy curls as you buck pathetically against his tongue. 

“Such a sweet lil’ cunt, got me fuckin’ addicted to it, I swear…” Joel half-whispers, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to make up for the absence of his tongue as he speaks, your hips still desperately chasing after his movements. He spits onto your folds once, watching it drip between the curves of them for a moment before lapping up your combined juices and picking up where he left off. Your eyes are shut tight, brows peaked with need as you beg him to keep going, please, Daddy, gonna come.

Joel pulls away again just enough to tease, “Always come for me so easily, don’t you? Sing for me, songbird, c’mon.” A few more rough strums of his thumb and pulses of his tongue have you crying out, shaking where you sit on the table as you gush into his waiting mouth. Joel works you through it as you practically ride his face, your hips twitching with each overstimulating flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit.

He doesn’t wait very long for you to come back into yourself, the impatient bastard that he is, before he’s commanding you to open and using his strong fingers to yank your jaw downward. Your eyes blink open just in time to watch him spit a mouthful of your own release onto your waiting tongue, and then he’s pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, tongues twisting around each other as he forces you to taste yourself. So immersed in the distraction of finally feeling his lips against your own, you don’t notice when he loosens his grip on your face to grab one of your hands instead, placing it on his still-clothed bulge and growling into your mouth as you massage the hard shape of him.

“Feel what you do to me, babygirl?” Joel breaks the kiss to ask, voice low and eyes dark. “Even if I kept you away from me, wouldn’t fuckin’ matter. Still have to take care o’ myself one way or another, would just be pretendin’ it was your perfect cunt squeezin’ me instead o’ my hand, anyway. Might as well stick to the real thing, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree, lashes fluttering at his filthy words.

“Yeah? You want it? Want Daddy to split you open again?”

Your skin is burning hot, every one of your nerve endings on fire with need, and you don’t care how pitiful you sound when you answer with, “Please, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Joel praises. He makes quick work of ridding himself of his belt, tossing it aside to join your discarded panties on the floor with a metallic thud before freeing his leaking cock from his jeans. He prods the thick head at your entrance, still so wet and stretched out from the earlier efforts of his fingers and tongue that he slides inside with hardly any resistance. “Greedy thing…” he hisses, holding onto your hips as he watches his thick length begin to slide in and out of you. A flash of silver catches his attention from the edge of his vision, and he focuses there instead, on the cross shaped charm dangling from your neck and resting between your breasts. He picks it up between his large thumb and forefinger, rubbing the pads of them along the smooth metal. “Probably shouldn’t be wearin’ such a thing anymore, hm? Now that I know how much of a whore you really are.”

“Not… ‘m not a whore,” you counter, but it’s so futile, meaning nothing at all when you really take a look at where you are now, how it all began, and how your voice cracks in your poor attempt to prove him wrong.

“Y’ are, though, songbird. ‘S okay that you are. Only for me though, huh? Jus’ Daddy’s whore? All mine?” Joel drops the cross in favor of cradling your cheek, hurrying his pace as he taunts you. There’s no use in denying it, not when his degrading words prompt your cunt to squeeze around him and provide more slick aid for his quickening thrusts, an involuntary whine escaping your throat. You’re seeing such a different side to him now than the one he showed you the night before, and you begin to wonder which one is the real Joel, or if either of them are, or if both of them are, somehow. Or if he even knows. You’re willing to take whichever one he decides to let you have, you think.

“Y-your whore, Daddy… wanna be yours, please,” you babble, his cock hitting you deep and hard as you let him fuck you so dumb you allow yourself to just give in and agree to whatever he says you are, whatever he wants you to be, just the way he likes.

“Fuck,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, removing his hand from your face and to grip onto the plush of your hip again. Your pliant state and filthy admission combined with that sinful symbol around your neck spur him on, and he uses his hold on your skin to fuck into you with abandon. “Really would just let me ruin you, huh? Tried to be a decent man for once in my goddamn life, but you just had to be a fuckin’ brat about it and start some shit, didn’t you? If you don’t want me decent, tha’s fine by me, baby. But lemme make somethin’ real goddamn clear to you,” he rambles, each slam of his hips into yours getting you closer to release for the second time. He delivers another sharp slap to your cheek with a You listenin’? and you nod to the best of your ability, finding it impossible to focus your eyes on him as that knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“You want this, you wanna be mine, you can be mine, babygirl. Lord knows I’d find my way right back inside this sinful lil’ cunt, anyway. But this ain’t gonna be a fuckin’ relationship, you understand? Take it or leave it, songbird.” He slows his thrusts as he spells out his ultimatum, but they still make you ache, all the same. His fiery gaze bores a hole straight through your skull as he awaits your response.

“Take it, w-wanna take it, Daddy.” The desperation in your voice and painted across your expression have him returning to his punitive pace, grunting and swearing into the warm skin of your neck as your hands scramble across his back, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his shoulder. His thick leather jacket helps to muffle your cries as he loses all control, using your body to chase after his own high.

“Course you’re gonna take it, filthy thing. Made to fuckin’ take it, Christ,” Joel rambles, your vocalizations increasing in pitch as you squeeze around him, whole body tensing as your sore pussy prepares to drench him one more time. “So goddamn desperate… Just take whatever I give you, however I wanna give it to you, always have you comin’ on my cock just the same, huh? Go on, babygirl, come for Daddy again, tha’s right…”

With his permission, and a few more just-right strokes of his tip against that sweet spot deep inside your walls, you’re spasming in his hold, whining that filthy title you had just used against him less than an hour ago. He spills his release into you at the same time, and despite the way he’s treated you and the words he’s spat at you tonight, it makes you feel whole again.

You breathe heavily against each other for a few minutes, neither of you wanting to let go as you both struggle to process what the hell just happened, what it will mean for the remainder of the tour. 

A sudden knock at the door quickly yanks you out of your thoughts, offering a taste of what the future may hold much earlier than you were expecting.

“Joel? You in there?” a voice asks from outside the dressing room.

“Huh…? Yeah, just gimme a–”

The door opens before Joel can finish answering, and you can see clear as day over his shoulder that it’s Jesse.

He claps his hand over his eyes when he notices you, but you can still see how his cheeks burn red under his fingers as he shifts where he stands, undoubtedly trying to come up with the least mortifying way to get himself out of this situation.

“Jesus, kid–” Joel grumbles, finally pulling out of you and shoving his still-slick cock back into his briefs. He zips himself up as you tug the skirt of your dress back down to cover yourself, still feeling much more exposed than you’d like as you eye your forgotten panties laying just a few feet from where Jesse stands.

“Sorry! Sorry, Joel. It’s just, uh—”

Joel turns to face him as he finishes adjusting himself, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t walk away from you completely, using his broad form to provide you with what little modesty he can afford under the circumstances. “What, Jess?” he barks, exasperated.

“Um… The guys asked me to come find you, we’re on in like a minute—” 

“Well, tell ‘em to hold their fuckin’ horses. I’m comin,” Joel orders.

“A-alright, I will, man. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you out there.” 

Jesse leaves the room as hurriedly as he had entered, nervously fumbling with the handle as he shuts the door on his way out. “That kid ever learn how to fuckin’ knock?” Joel mutters to himself, picking his belt up off the floor and looping it back around his waist. He retrieves your ruined panties when he’s done and casually tosses them over to you, a stark contrast from the attentive aftercare he had provided last night. You slide off the vanity table and tug them back on over your legs, shivering at the feeling of the cool, damp fabric against where you’re so sensitive and sore, still leaking Joel’s spend. You fidget with the hem of your dress and try to ignore the way your heart sinks into your stomach, wondering what Jesse must think of you now. You haven’t really spoken to him at all since this whole thing started, and you doubt you ever will after what happened tonight. Of course, he’d had a front row seat to your obscene little performance during Kiss it Better, but it was all just an act, as far as he knew. But he has more than enough confirmation now to know that it very much wasn’t, and the humiliation of it all makes your anxious imagination begin to run wild. Your bottom lip quivers at the thought of Jesse running straight back to the guys with a shit-eating look on his face, eager to tell them all about how he just saw their opening act with her legs spread for Joel in his dressing room. Images flash through your mind of the band you’ve looked up to for so long now shooting you dirty looks backstage and whispering about you amongst themselves, sharing their doubts about if you really deserve to be touring with them at all. Maybe they’d call you easy, say that you’re just another dumb slut who gave it up for the first rockstar who asked, that your career will be doomed unless you grow up and learn to respect yourself a little more. And maybe they’d be right.

You can’t stop a few hot tears from rolling down your cheek at your catastrophizing, but you wipe them away quickly. This is what you asked for, isn’t it? Joel had given you an opportunity to leave this where he had ended it, and you were the one who had begged to be his, even after he showed you what it would look like, and told you explicitly what it would never be. You pull your shoulders back and make an effort to stand up a little straighter as he addresses you again, not wanting to look like some pathetic, defeated thing.

“You good? Need anythin’?” Joel asks, and it would be kind of sweet if he weren’t halfway out the door already. 

You sniffle a little, but try to feign nonchalance as you shake your head and reply, “No, ‘m fine.”

You must not do a very good job of it, because he’s craning his neck to look down the hallway as soon as you finish your sentence, like he knows exactly what’s on your mind. “Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Joel says to you, giving an annoyed shake of his head. “If he knows what’s good for him he’ll go to his grave swearin’ he didn’t see anything. Kid knows better,” he reassures, and it does help to slow the unspooling of your thoughts some. 

“Okay,” is all you offer, along with a small smile.

Joel nods curtly, “Okay.” And after another beat and a rake of his eyes along your form, “I’ll see ya, songbird.”

He’s gone before you can reply, and you let the sound of the door closing ring out in your ears until you’re left in total silence, save for the sound of your own unsteady breathing. More than anything else, you just want to head back to your bus and scrub yourself clean of him, to put on unstained clothes and remove your ruined makeup so that you have a better chance of recognizing yourself in the mirror if you’re unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of your reflection. Maybe if you hurry the pace of your walk of shame, you can outrun the feeling altogether, you think, swinging the dressing room door open and letting it slam behind you as you make a swift exit, heading straight for the one place that even slightly resembles a home to you right now. You keep your head low as you wander the unfamiliar backstage halls, and hold the skirt of your dress down against the breeze that threatens to expose you yet again when you push open the venue’s back door. More tears begin to fall as your boots carry you up the steps of your bus and lead you to your private little room in the back, and you don’t wipe them away this time, although you can’t put your finger on why they stream down your skin so impatiently, one stinging droplet after another.

You sit down heavily on the edge of your bed, although you have a strange urge to kneel at the foot of it instead. Your fingers find their way to your crucifix as you contemplate the idea, and it hits you all at once how very lost you feel. You miss… something. Your mother? Perhaps not, but maybe the idea of having a caregiver, someone to turn to when you feel the way you do now, to help you sort through the tangled knot of emotions unraveling itself in your heart and attempt to make some kind of sense of it. She wasn’t the perfect mother, by any means, but she tried, and it was her first time being a woman too, after all. You are following in her footsteps, as many daughters aspire to do with their mothers, but you don’t think she would be very proud of the particular path of hers you’ve begun to find yourself stumbling down—the one that leads you to a man who won’t change himself, who can’t, but who you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you deserve, because you’ve never known a man who’s told you otherwise. 

And now here you sit, alone, in the dark cave of your too-big bus on the second night of a career-changing national tour, crying girlish tears and missing something you can’t place but that you know you can’t go back to, wishing someone could just wipe your mind clean and tell you that you’re good and that you’re not a disappointment to your mother and God even though you don’t really care what they think of you anymore, anyway. You need someone to tell you who you are, and Joel seems to know the answer—a good girl, a whore, his songbird. You shift at the memories of when those names for you have spilled from his mouth, and you’re reminded of the wet fabric still pressed against your core. It feels good when he tells you who you are, after all, when he slots himself inside of you and makes you feel like something he owns, when he makes you feel perfect and floaty and beautiful and like he knows you better than you’ve ever known yourself.

And how could something that feels so good ever be bad for you?

—

The whiskey burns as it slides down the back of Joel’s throat, but it still isn’t strong enough. All it does is remind him of the igniting spark that led to the blaze now engulfing him—when you’d both had a few glasses of the stuff swimming around in your blood streams in the green room of last night’s venue, when he’d lured you onto his lap and teased the wet spot on your panties and asked if you’d let him touch you. He knew you were going to say yes, but it was still the respectable thing to do, and he had liked hearing you beg for it all pretty and polite. He fears that’s the last he may have seen of that version of you, that what he did this morning had stomped out the little delicate, glimmering light that had drawn him to you in the first place. And if it wasn’t snuffed out then, it’s surely nothing but a wisp of smoke now.

Joel had recognized when everything had started to become too real too fast, in the dark of his bus last night when even in your sleep, you had seemed to consider him as something warm and comforting and safe, instead of the beast that he knows himself to be, with too sharp of claws and too loud of a roar. He had tried to do the right thing for once in his goddamn life by finally thinking about someone other than himself, so why didn’t you take the opportunity to get out of this while you had the chance? What is it that you see in him that he knows for a fact isn’t there, has never been there? You had retaliated because you had wanted this to work, because he had hurt you when he shoved you away, but he can’t possibly fathom why you’ve chosen to fight so hard for this. And he’d only gone and proved himself right when he responded to your reprisal the only way he knows how, especially when you’d used that word against him that he’s always been avoidant to admit about himself—coward.

And you were right, weren’t you? Joel is a fucking coward. He does everything in his power to pretend otherwise, to show his fans and the world a version of himself who’s never for a second thought of himself as anything less than God incarnate. And maybe except for Tommy, no one has ever been the wiser to his ruse, until you. And it scares him, to be seen so clearly. Because then he might actually have to try to understand where all these defense mechanisms came from in the first place, and he can’t have that. 

Coward.

Joel tosses back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, releasing his white-knuckled grip on it and slamming it back down onto the green room’s bar cart. He knows that his band and about twenty thousand people are waiting for him to buck up and emerge from yet another hiding place, and he realizes that this is becoming a pattern with you—you awaken some long-dormant feeling from deep inside of him, it makes him feel threatened, and he retreats until it goes away and he remembers how to paint his mask back on. And the one time you didn’t allow him to run away, he lashed out like a caged animal and undoubtedly gave you a pretty solid idea of what he meant by “for your own good”. And yet, you were so desperate to be allowed any part of him at all that even in his most volatile and beastly state, with his talons out and his teeth bared, you didn’t run away. You didn’t even try. You didn’t want to. You took everything he had given you like it was a privilege to do so, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand why. 

Joel shakes himself out, hitting a solid hand against his cheek once in order to bring himself back from the depths of another unwanted episode of introspection and self-loathing, and lets the burn of the whiskey dissipate as he makes his way to where the rest of Death’s Head is waiting for him. He can feel their eyes on him without even needing to look, and snaps out a defensive I don’t wanna hear it before any of the guys get a chance to say anything. 

Tommy shrugs, stepping up to Joel with his arms crossed. “Wasn’t gonna say nothin’.” 

Joel finally turns to face the group, giving each member a scrutinizing once-over in an attempt to read their body language, to suss out if they’re just pissed because he left them waiting, or if Jesse ran his mouth while he was gone. When Joel’s examining eyes land on the dark-haired guitarist, Jesse’s quick to shake his head, mouthing the words they don’t know. Satisfied, Joel nods once in understanding, adjusting his jacket and cracking his neck before turning toward the stage again.

“Y’all ready, or what?” he mutters rhetorically, not bothering to wait for an answer before he marches his way into the spotlights and allows them to enshroud him, burning up what remains of that cowardly version of him, if only for the remainder of the night. Joel picks up his guitar, swinging the strap around his chest before fiddling with his mic stand as the deafening sound of the crowd reminds him of who the fuck he is, or at least, who they think he is. Who he pretends to be. And he gets to believe it for the next two hours. If he plays the part well enough, maybe he can lose himself in it entirely. But then, hasn’t he been trying to do that for the past couple of decades? It hasn’t seemed to work yet, but it doesn’t hurt to keep trying. 

Or maybe it does.

—

You feel a little better now, more at ease, now that you’ve had some time to focus on taking care of yourself. It’s easy to forget the wonders that a hot shower can do for a girl, especially when you have to fight against your own brain just to get up and take the ten or so steps towards the bathroom, when you’d much rather stay curled up in the same position on your bed until your skin adheres to the sheets. Now having scrubbed away the tears and the sweat and the tacky dampness between your thighs, you emerge from a cloud of rose-scented humidity as someone you think you understand a little better now, who deserves to be taken care of instead of reprimanded for only doing her best with what she’s been given.

With clean hair and skin and a comfortable change of sleep-ready attire, you decide to finally make some efforts to unpack your suitcase and make your little room feel more like a home. You hang your dresses up on the rack, set your shoes into a somewhat orderly line on the carpet below them, and place your jewelry neatly onto the antique tray you had carefully packed away to bring along with you. You had found it in a little thrift store downtown, when you had first left home and decided you needed something that was only yours, something pretty and special that you could look at everyday and know that it was the very first step in building the life that you had always wanted for yourself. The brass needs a little polishing, but it’s still one of the most beautiful objects you’ve ever seen, and the way the ceiling lights glint off the metal brightens up your space just enough that it feels a little more familiar to you now. 

Your earrings and other necklaces fill the blank space in the center of the neatly carved filigree, and you make the decision to add your crucifix to the pile of silver studs and chains. It’s strange how such a simple charm can make things feel so complicated. You haven’t taken it off in so long that you fear the guilt that might come with removing it, but you figure it will still be there for you if you ever feel like clipping it around your neck again. And if that feeling never comes, then you’ll deal with that then, too.

For now, you breathe a little deeper without the weight of the thing resting against your chest, and smile to yourself when you hear a small group of excitable-sounding male voices approaching your bus. Your bandmates file through the door a second later, though you’re suddenly shy to greet them as you emerge from your bedroom, worried that they might be pissed at you for what you sprung on them earlier in the night. You lean against the doorframe as they each collapse onto the living area couches, cracking open beers from the minifridge and passing them around to each other.

“Hey, you,” greets your floppy-haired drummer, Max, patting the cushion next to him. If any of the guys were to be easy going about what you put them through tonight, it would be him. You’re happy to see that he doesn’t seem to hold any animosity towards you. “You want me to crack one open for you?” he offers.

“Um… sure,” you agree, approaching the group and relaxing into the open seat next to him as he hands you a bottle. You take a few swigs while the guys begin to talk amongst themselves, waiting for an opportune lull in their conversation for you to chime in.

It comes about halfway through your beer. “So, listen,” you start, setting the sweating bottle on the table in front of you as you feel their gazes shift in your direction. “I’m sorry for pulling that on you guys tonight. This whole thing is just as big for y’all as it is for me and… I guess I forgot about that, for a second,” you say, although the end of your sentence kind of sounds like a question. “I really appreciate how you backed me up out there, that’s all.”

It’s rare that the four of you get sincere with each other like this, and your apology lingers in the air for a moment before someone else speaks up. 

“It’s alright, kid.” The comforting voice comes from Scott, your quiet and kind-eyed bassist. “We’re all professionals here, yeah? We’d be some sad fuckin’ musicians if we couldn’t improvise every once in a while.” You laugh at that, and his lopsided smile warms you when you meet his soft expression.

“I mean, I kinda fucked up a little bit,” says Joey, your rhythm guitarist, ever-reliable for lightening the mood. “You sounded badass though, so whatever. Nothin’ you need to apologize for.” When you turn your head to look at him, he looks slightly uncomfortable with the way Max has him pressed up against the wall, but his gaze is sincere. “You wanna talk about it, though? Some pretty heavy shit you wrote.”

You do consider it, but shake your head, having reflected on it quite enough for one night. “Not right now,” you reply, and he gives you a sympathetic smile in return. “One of you have a smoke, though? Think I’m just gonna get some air and call it a night.” 

“Now, how are you gonna ‘get some air’ with all that smoke in your lungs?” Scott jests, and you give him a look before standing up and holding your palm out flat to him, making a hand it over gesture with your fingers. 

“Don’t give me shit, dude, I know you have one. That’s why I asked.”

Despite his protest, he digs the pack out of his pocket and slides one out, playfully holding it hostage against his chest. “Still shouldn’t smoke ‘em, though. Gonna ruin your voice one of these days.”

You roll your eyes at him, but laugh, anyway. “Fine, tonight’s my last one, I promise. Just gimme.”

Scott extends his hand out to you, and you snatch the cigarette out of his hold. “Light, too?” he asks, and you nod, leaning down to him with it in your mouth already.

You make a quick exit when the tobacco begins to burn, trying to fill the bus with as little smoke as possible, but not before making your appreciation known to the guys one last time. When you step out into the chilly night air, you wish you’d brought a sweater to wrap around you, but figure the flame between your lips will warm you up soon enough. 

The Death’s Head bus is parked just up ahead, and you can make out Jesse’s silhouette in the moonlight, his back leaned against the idling vehicle as he puffs his own cloud into the sky. The sound of your bus’s door shutting behind you draws his attention your way, and you give each other a friendly nod as you each burn through your cigarettes.

“Can I join you?” he asks, having to shout in order for his voice to reach you over the rumbling engines.

The fears you were ruminating on a few hours ago all come rushing back to you in an instant, but his inquiry seems casual enough for you to let your guard back down a little. It would be rude of you to decline, and it might be nice to get to know him a bit more if he’s offering, you suppose.

“Yeah, okay,” you reply, nodding for good measure in case your voice didn’t come out loud enough. His long legs close the short distance between you in just a few seconds, and you shove your unoccupied hand into your pocket in an effort to come across more relaxed than you feel. You’ve never been great at small talk, or meeting new people, especially ones who’ve walked in on you after having just been fucked by the lead singer of his band. 

You’re grateful that Jesse decides to break the silence first. “So, uh… you two, huh?”

“Mhm,” is all you offer, kicking a rock around the asphalt with the toe of your shoe.

“Yeah… Well, I don’t want you to feel weird around me, or anything. We can just forget it ever happened.”

You can’t help but release a puff of smoke through an awkward giggle. “Sounds good to me.”

“And I didn’t tell the other two, just so you know.”

His admission makes you pause, trapping the rock underneath your shoe as you peer up at him. “You didn’t? So… they don’t know?”

Jesse shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Well, Tommy might, just ‘cause he knows Joel better than anybody, but Eugene’s probably clueless. They’re all good guys, they won’t give you shit for it even if they do find out… I might, though, just for fun.” He nudges your shoulder with his as he jokes, and it makes you laugh a little more earnestly this time. “Just… be careful, that’s all. And I want you to know you have a friend in me, if you ever feel like you need one.”

His kindness is nearly enough to bring you to tears. You feel so relieved that everything the worst parts of your brain had conjured up had all been a lie, that Jesse isn’t who you feared he’d be, and that he’s offering you his friendship, even after he’d seen you in such an embarrassing and compromising state tonight. 

“Jess!” Joel yells from the doorway of his bus, and the harsh gravel voice startles both of you out of the moment you’d been sharing. “Finish up, kid. Takin’ off in a few.”

Jesse nods, raising the end of his cigarette in acknowledgement before stomping it out on the pavement. “It was nice talking to you. Remember what I said, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, and he’s handsome and boyish when he smiles back at you before following his orders and jogging back to his own bus, sliding through the door past Joel’s broad form.

Joel’s expression is hard, but otherwise unreadable as he juts his chin at you, wordlessly suggesting the same direction he’d just barked at Jesse. He shuts the door behind him as he steps inside, and you think on Jesse’s words as you finish puffing your smoke down to a nub. Be careful, he’d cautioned, and it’s like he had been waiting outside for you to make sure he had a chance to tell you that. Remember what I said, like it was important to him that you took his words to heart. You finally toss the end of your own cigarette onto the ground, letting it sizzle out before heading back inside and carefully passing the now-occupied bunks as you make your way to your own little sanctuary. 

You’re still buzzing from the tobacco as you close yourself into your room and crawl into bed, and you can’t decide if the emptiness of it makes you feel comforted or afraid. You don’t necessarily wish you had Joel’s heavy, lumbering form tucked in beside you, but you hadn’t anticipated how having a bed to yourself would leave you with only the company of your own thoughts. You try not to dwell too much on Jesse’s warning, instead trying to snuff it out like the smoldering end of your cigarette so that it doesn’t prevent you from getting some much needed rest.

Even for being a bed inside of a tour bus, you have to admit that it’s one of the most comfortable, luxurious things you’ve ever slept on, especially compared to the lumpy double bed from back in your apartment. You don’t fight it when sleep begins to pull heavily on your eyelids, the incoming wave of it washing away any lingering anxieties as you allow yourself to relax into the plush mattress.

You hardly rouse even as the bus heaves forward on its trip out of the parking lot, leaving everything that happened tonight exactly where you left it, the ghost of it now left to wander the halls of the venue instead of haunting you as you travel to the next one. And there’s something comforting in that, you think, in the idea that nothing on this tour is permanent, that your life begins anew every 24 hours in a city you’ve never been to that doesn’t know your name yet. 

And maybe that’s how you’ll figure this whole thing out, by taking it one day at a time, fluttering as close to the flame as possible without touching it, because you kind of like feeling the heat on your wings. As long as you’re careful when you dance around the fire, then there’s really nothing to be afraid of.

But only time will tell.

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[fantastic-nonsense]

I love your thoughtful SoC meta! I would love to know your thoughts on Kaz and Jesper’s relationship. Specifically, I adore Kaz but one thing in particular that always seemed so dark to me was that he enabled Jesper’s gambling addiction even though he obviously does care about him. Kaz is obviously willing to do a lot of fucked up things in service of his goals, but this one in particular, toward his own brother figure, I find sad. It’s kind of addressed during their fight at the end of CK but still feels a little unfinished.

I love Kaz and Jesper's relationship. There's sooooo much to dig into there (way too much for a single meta); it's super juicy and complicated, and one of the best complexities of it is that they often enable and feed off of each other's trauma. The pre-canon status quo is a situation where Kaz and Jesper are, in many ways, using and abusing each other as a way of avoiding dealing with their own trauma. It's a fascinating push-and-pull dynamic because neither of them are pushovers and yet neither one is particularly interested in facing their Issues™ head-on, and they both seemingly recognize that in each other and give each other an uncharacteristic amount of grace in helping the other avoid dealing with it.

In Kaz's case, that most often looks like enabling Jesper's gambling addiction and then repeatedly bailing him out of trouble under the justification of "he's loyal and competent, it would be wasteful to let the other gangs kill him." In Jesper's case, this looks like ignoring Kaz's countless and extremely obvious issues in favor of playing the loyal second. Basically, it's not just Kaz enabling Jesper's gambling addiction; it's also Jesper enabling Kaz's unhinged ruthlessness with little pushback other than a few snarky comments.

They also project a lot of their own issues onto each other! Kaz pushes Jesper away in part because he's projecting the grief and blame he feels over Jordie's death onto Jesper, but Jesper is using Kaz's ruthless pragmatism to escape the crippling disappointment of returning home to face his father's judgement for being a college drop-out, gambling addict, and gang member. And Kaz withholds praise and verbal declarations of trust from Jesper because he hates acknowledging that he cares about people, but Jesper uses Kaz's emotional detachment as a crutch to avoid dealing with his own commitment issues by pining after a boy he knows will never reciprocate his advances. This status quo is, of course, insanely unhealthy for both boys long-term, but where would we be if any of the Crows actually dealt with their issues in a healthy way?

That dynamic, imo, is also only possible because Kaz and Jesper have known each other for longer than anyone else in the main crew; Kaz may have let Inej in further, but he let Jesper in first. As far as we know, Jesper is the first person Kaz genuinely lets past his mile-high walls since Jordie died...but he very deliberately holds him at arms' length in a way that he does not with Inej (something that Jesper notices and is jealous about!). Being "the first" in this case unfortunately comes with a lot of baggage, and Kaz and Jesper would both lowkey rather die than talk about how much they care what the other thinks of them.

Kaz clearly didn't recruit Jesper looking for a friend or someone who reminded him of his dead older brother; he recruited him because he saw someone with a useful skillset who he preferred to be at his side rather than in a rival gang or dead in the canals. It's to Jesper's credit that he managed to break through those walls anyway, but there's only so much he can do in the face of Kaz's armor. And like Inej, Kaz's closed-off personality and actions hurt Jesper repeatedly. But he stays anyway, because he (like Inej) sees the boy underneath the mask that Kaz wears and cares a little too much to let him go:

“He wouldn’t—” Jesper stopped short, and then he laughed. “Of course he would.” Jesper flexed his knuckles, concentrated on the lines of his palms. “Kaz is…I don’t know, he’s like nobody else I’ve ever known. He surprises me.” “Yes. Like a hive of bees in your dresser drawer.” Jesper barked a laugh. “Just like that.” “So what are we doing here?” Jesper turned back to the sea, feeling his cheeks heat. “Hoping for honey, I guess. And praying not to get stung.” Inej bumped her shoulder against his. “Then at least we’re both the same kind of stupid.” “I don’t know what your excuse is, Wraith. I’m the one who can never walk away from a bad hand.” She looped her arm in his. “That makes you a rotten gambler, Jesper. But an excellent friend.” “You’re too good for him, you know.” “I know. So are you." -Ch. 17, Six of Crows

Kaz is unused to verbalizing the trust he places in others and actively in denial about how much he cares about them until Crooked Kingdom; he spends his time deliberately being cruel and pushing people away even as he proves over and over again that he doesn't actually want them to leave him. This casual assholery hits those closest to him (Inej and Jesper) the hardest because they are clearly trusted with his life but not with his heart, and that hurts them both.

For Inej, resolving that behavior looks like giving him an ultimatum ("I will have you without armor or I will not have you at all") and telling herself to walk away unless he meets her challenge. For Jesper? That looks like duking it out on top of the Geldrenner when they're both at rock bottom, because of course that's the only way either one of those boys is ever going to verbalize the tension that underlies their relationship. There's just a lot of baggage and mutual toxicity and unsaid words that neither of them are very interested in dealing with until everything comes to a head during the Clocktower fight.

I think we also forget that the Kaz-Jesper dynamic we see in the majority of the duology is not their normal dynamic: it's how they interact when Kaz is mad at Jesper. And a mad Kaz is, within the scope of canon, a pretty cruel Kaz, which is something that I think a good portion of the fandom likes to handwave away in favor of pointing towards Kaz's active attempts to be better in the back half of the duology.

Ultimately we only see the "normal" Kaz-Jesper dynamic for the first 12 or so chapters of Six of Crows (when the Dock Fight/Eyeball Incident happens) and the last few chapters of Crooked Kingdom. Those chapters are a really interesting look into what that relationship looks like when they're on good terms. It's clear that they're good friends, trust each other a hell of a lot, and joke around with each other quite a bit (the "saves ammo" joke in the parley chapter, their interactions during the Hellgate breakout, the "man with a knife!" "man with a gun!" exchange immediately after Kaz throws Oomen overboard, etc), but we also see the stress points: Jesper getting mad at Kaz for not telling him about Big Bolliger's betrayal, Kaz sending Wylan with Jesper during the prep chapters to keep an eye on him, and Jesper's bee and honey conversation with Inej on the Ferolind, for example.

These stress points are what fracture and crack in the aftermath of Jesper accidentally alerting the other gangs that they were headed out on the Ice Court Job and nearly causing Inej's death, and further buckle under the stress and pressure that Kaz and Jesper deal with during the following month and a half: the Ice Court job, Van Eck kidnapping Inej on Vellgeluk, Colm showing up in Ketterdam, and the Sugar Silo/Auction scheme.

In this way, I think Kaz enabling Jesper's gambling addiction is less about Kaz being actively cruel towards someone he sees the ghost of his brother in and punishing Jesper for the sins he percieves Jordie to have made (which is also true, and a meta for a different time!) and more about the weird balance of toxic mutual leniency Kaz and Jesper have allowed the other to provide for them for over two years...and how that leniency breaks down once it's not just Kaz's life or time on the line when Jesper fucks up.

Put more succinctly: for a long time, Kaz and Jesper existed in a toxic balance of enabling each others' worst impulses and behaviors, which was only able to be verbally addressed when they were both at rock bottom, desperate, and seemingly had very little left to lose. This conflict is somewhat addressed and resolved in the conversation where Kaz refuses to give Jesper the last of the parem and offers up a tiny bit of information about Jordie—showcasing his own growth and how he's finally trying to break the cycle by refusing to enable Jesper's self-destructive tendencies—but that level of tension is unable to be properly resolved in one single blowout argument. And I think it's deliberately left a bit unfinished because neither of them are really in a place where they're ready to address everything they've left unsaid for so long, even in the epilogue chapters.

However, we do see the beginnings of that reconcilitaion (Kaz asking Inej to tell Jesper that he's "missed around the Slat") and the story ends on a hopeful note regarding Kaz's commitment to removing his armor, which implies a lot about the resolution of that dangling thread. And of course, we know that by Rule of Wolves they're back to being thick as thieves and fucking around as usual, so clearly they hashed it out at some point in the in-between (and personally? I don't think it took either of them very long after the CK epilogue chapters to do that hashing out).

tl;dr: I love it when two traumatized and emotionally constipated teenage boys use each other to avoid facing their own personal problems and then get into a fistfight to avoid talking about how much they care about each other. Top-tier dynamic. Chef's kiss. I could talk about them for hours.

[subskz]

hi! i just wanted to say, i’m a sub and i avoid sub skz stuff bc it’s not really my taste. i scrolled though the lee know smut tag like a few weeks ago, and i came across strawberry lemonade. i know i avoid sub skz, but i decided to give it a try anyways. and oh my god, i think that was the best decision i ever made. i haven’t read any sub skz fics because i figured that i probably wouldn’t like it, but i’m so glad that i gave it a try because honestly i think i’m kind of into it. the way you write is actually so delicious. your use of descriptions is actually scarily good like it was so easy to visualize it all, and like oh my god your descriptions sounded so hot. and the dialogue too…sooo good!! i loved how it transitioned from playfulness to something more, i don’t know, hot? idk the whole fic is just hot. all the teasing and calling him kitten?? oh my god. dragging the cold popsicle against his skin and then licking it up with the warmth of your mouth?? the sudden change in temperature is just so hot. and oh my god, putting the popsicle on his cock??

“You rolled the treat lower to emphasize your question, wedging it against his balls and making his cock spasm wildly,”

HELLO??? THE VISUAL?? imagination running wild. balls unfortunately don’t get enough love, so that line made me go a little crazy. and the way his cock spasms wildly because of it is so ridiculously hot. and even when you’re doing all of that, he still tries holding onto his pride, which is actually soo cute. and then wrapping your lips around his cock?? ughhh, if just doing it against his thighs got me going crazy, this one definitely got me going even crazier. the contrast in temperatures is <33333!! and using the popsicle where your lips didn’t cover?? you’re gonna be the death of me.

“Gradually, you built up a steady pace, timing the strokes of the popsicle with your mouth so that every inch of his dick was being stimulated at once. Hot and frigid, sloppy and smooth, like you were freezing his body over and setting it back on fire. It wasn’t long before the dizzying blend of sensations became too much for him to handle.”

i’ll let that paragraph speak for itself because holy shit was that hot as hell.

“Don’t make me beg for it.”

“But you sound so cute when you do.”

HELLLLOOOOOO?????????? ugh your writing is just so scrumptious!! oh my god and when he finally lets go of his pride and starts begging, it’s sooooo <333333

“The strawberry slush dissolved against your tongue, cooling the inside of your mouth to create an icy blend of saliva that was far too much for his hypersensitive body to handle.”

OH MY GOD. i’m in love. and the part where you stop just to make sure he doesn’t get hurt is just so adorableeee!! many fics are just pure smut with no feelings, so it’s absolutely lovely when you included this little bit that shows that you care about minho <33

“Even the popsicle lasted longer than you.”

PLEASEEEE i lost it at that omggg.

sjiwnfienenf this fic was a masterpiece. was it kinda unsanitary? yeah. but does that matter? absolutely not. i loved it omg. super hot. i stalked your blog afterwards. read almost everything, just need to find the time to start reading butterfly bandage and a few others.

also, i wanted to hear your thoughts on domming skz for the first time? but if you’re not comfortable writing switch reader, then maybe pegging for the first time? (reading “safe” made me lose my mind omg)

hello hello! first off i just have to say that your entire message has me in shambles oh my god i can’t believe how sweet u are!! 😭 thank you so much for all your kind and encouraging words, it means a lot to me that you liked it! esp since sub skz isnt ur usual cup of tea i’m delighted that you took a chance on strawberry lemonade n ended up enjoying it <33

the way u caught on to so many little details throughout the fic and immersed urself in the descriptions is incredibly touching to me, you really read w a keen eye i appreciate it so much!! even to the point of sharing lil excerpts that you liked and noticing the slight tone shift at the beginning…ur too kind ㅠㅠ the contrasting temperatures was kinda what inspired the whole thing so i’m glad to know u found that hot hehehe what better way to slowly chip away at lino’s pride right~ and yes!! i try to sneak in softer moments whenever i can to show some love for the boys, i’m very happy u took notice of that part and that it’s smth you value as well! 🥰

thank u again for taking the time to send such a lovely message u really brightened up my day!! butterfly bandage is a bit of a journey haha…if you do end up reading it i hope you’ll enjoy the ride angel 💗💗💗

as for ur question! yes i don’t do switch reader, but i think i could do smth like going from a vanilla relationship to domming skz for the first time if you’d like? either way, i’ll add first time pegging thoughts under the cut here ^_^

chan - so shy, so so shy. he’s extremely self-conscious abt it bc he feels guilty for wanting smth that, in his mind, is almost solely for his own pleasure instead of yours. he’s a lil giver who always wants to satisfy you first, after all! still, he can’t deny how bad he craves trying it, he definitely researches pegging on his own (shoutout deadpool) and gets off to the thought of it, then feels insanely embarrassed w himself after. he doesn’t have the courage to ask you outright, but since u know him well enough, it becomes pretty clear to you what he wants through his indirect roundabout channie ways of hinting at it. saying things like “ur always slapping my butt *giggle* why do u like it so muchhh~” or “i saw some videos the other day and um. yeah haha. i was like wow, ppl are into some pretty interesting things, yknow?” or ofc the infamous complaining abt how fat his ass is…lmao. and after one too many times of him fiddling w his ears and giving u hopeful glances as he stammers his way through dropping hints, you finally accept that this man is never gonna ask for it himself and decide to take initiative instead

when you do, he bursts into flames 😭 he tries desperately to play coy n oblivious, but it’s so clear how much the idea excites him w how he goes bright red, he’s not fooling anyone~ channie is such a good boy though. even if he’s nervous, he does his part to try and prep himself for you on his own, experimenting w fingering himself and even looking for the right toys to get him used to being opened up. he does whatever he can to be ready for you and make the process more convenient, but he’d definitely still need to ease into it little by little. starting w you fingering him so he can adjust to being filled up like that, testing out some smaller toys, then eventually leading into the actual pegging after a few days or weeks. he needs you to take it slow the first time, be very gentle w him! bc not only is it a bit nervewracking to try smth new, he also just feels kinda vulnerable and insecure abt it. needs lots of convincing that this is smth you want too, and that you get all the pleasure you need just seeing him blissed out and falling apart underneath you <3

he’s a flustered wreck the entire time, squirming and avoiding eye contact and covering up his body bc he feels way more exposed than usual sprawled out for you, leaking against his tummy w his legs spread. but no matter how embarrassed he is, he’s still so loud once youre inside him. if you thought he was noisy before, the sounds he makes as you start to thrust into him are like nothing you’ve ever heard before, and he wouldnt be able to contain them to save his life ㅠ his moans are so sweet, emotive, and grateful. with the way they spill out of him nonstop, it leaves no room for doubt in your mind that he’s feeling so good that all his misgivings have washed away. he tries his best to stay communicative so you know what he likes, that he’s still okay and comfortable, but once he fully adjusts to the rhythm and feel of your strap inside him he gets lost in it pretty quickly and has a hard time staying verbal. all he can really manage is a broken groans of “ah, good”, whimpering your name over n over and slurring out pleas for more, but those are more than enough to let you know that he’s enjoying himself~ it kinda dawns on him as he’s being drowned in all this pleasure how lucky he is to have you and how safe he feels in that moment, he might even start to cry if his emotions are running particularly high that day. he needs a lot of praise through it bc, again, he wants to be reassured that he’s doing well for you when all of the focus is on him like that; it’s one of the few times he won’t religiously try to deflect all ur compliments. i think he’d wanna be in missionary despite his shyness, bc he wants to feel close to you. he’ll be hiding behind his hands or unable to hold your gaze most of the time, but he still wants to be face to face with you for kisses and soothing touches <3 he’ll definitely wrap his legs around you when he’s close to pull you in deeper, like he’s worried you might stop. or he’ll tug needily at your arm to pull you down against his chest, begging you to hold him as he comes undone. aside from the emotional intimacy of the position, he also feels a lil relieved that he can bury his face into your shoulder and hide away. if you pinned his hips down the mattress to steady him while he cums, he’d go absolutely wild. later down the line, he’d be very open to you fucking him rougher. he’d esp love for you to “mahandle” him a lil bit. even if he’s bigger/stronger than you, he gets such a thrill from feeling kinda helpless as he’s bent and folded and tossed around into any position you want. he’ll crumble instantly under your hands, just to hear you call him a good boy for obeying so eagerly <3 but despite that secret desire in him, for his first time i definitely think he’d need it to be soft!

lino - curious kitty #1…he is most definitely interested in trying it out. one of the hungriest for it out of all the boys, actually, and he’s honestly a lil frustrated that you haven’t suggested it yourself yet. bc though he can be pretty shameless abt asking to try new things, he also doesn’t wanna risk the blow to his pride if you reject the idea. his version of dropping hints is literally just staring holes into the back of ur head, hoping his telepathic signals will reach you and you’ll just know what he wants without him having to say it, bc god forbid he looks desperate in front of you (he is, but you dont need to know that). if you don’t bring it up yourself, eventually he runs out of patience and just deadpans it to you one day that he wants to try pegging, but he frames it as a joke just in case so he can giggle in ur face n act like he didn’t mean it if you aren’t into it lol. if you’re the one to suggest it, his heart kinda flutters bc lino really wants to be wanted by you. he wants you to go crazy over the thought of him writhing in pleasure underneath you, to see how pretty he looks getting fucked so you become just as hooked on it as him and ask yourself why you didn’t do this sooner. he definitely plays up his seductive behavior around you to try and get you to initiate it like the sneaky lil kitty he is

though he acts all fussy n huffy as if he’s doing you a favor, he’s actually very thoughtful behind the scenes just like channie. he tries to prep himself in private and does a lot of research on how to do it safely and properly for the first time. partially to make things easier for you, and partially so he can blow u away w how much of a “natural” he is heh…despite what he leads you to believe, he really wants to please you, too, even if he’s very adamant abt being pampered. he absolutely 1000% sucks your strap before you fuck him. even if he’s never done it before, he treats it like a must, and the way he works his mouth would make you believe he’d been doing it his entire life. he wants to show you what he can do for you too, kinda like he’s reminding you of why he deserves to be fucked so well in the first place~ given how experimental he is, you’ve probably already tried fingering w him before so it’s not smth entirely new to him, but the complete fullness he feels once you inch your strap all the way in is like nothing he could’ve ever prepared himself for. he gets obsessed w it instantly, both the pleasure that’s so intense in an entirely different way, and the whole new lvl of intimacy it brings to your dynamic

he tries to keep quiet at first, just letting out cute little grunts and hitched breaths as he gets used to the stretch. but the moment you start to consistently bottom out inside him, you’re in for the prettiest, most angelic sighs n moans you've ever heard from him. he might wanna start out in missionary bc he likes the eye contact and he feels more comfy being able to see you…he will be looking directly into ur soul w the most intense, sultry gaze that shows how much he really trusts you, it’s very hot in its own way hehe. that, coupled w the way his thick thighs wrap around you to urge you in deeper, tell you everything you need to know abt how much he loves it, even if he refuses to admit it outright. the faces he makes and the sight of him rocking his hips to match your movements are mind-numbing…he’s a dancer after all, he’s got very good muscle control and knows exactly how to move when he really wants to put on a show <3 as the pleasure picks up though, he gets a lil too drunk on it and becomes needier n needier, you can tell his composure is slipping as he starts to shake more w each thrust. he’s so focused on feeling good that he forgets abt his pride and starts whining for more, for you to go deeper, harder, faster. that’s how you end up in doggy style w him grinding himself down on your strap to meet each rock of your hips, grateful that he can whimper and drool into the pillows instead of letting his cries ring out in full volume. he’s usually pretty good at holding his noises back if he really wants to, but when you’re filling him to the brim over and over like that, there’s no chance for him to keep quiet. he’d love it if you squeezed n kneaded his thighs until deep imprints were left behind for days afterwards. and if you reach out to play w his nipples from behind or hook your fingers into his mouth, pulling his head back and making him salivate all over them as you repeatedly hit his prostate just right, he may just cum on the spot

binnie - w binnie, i can see it going either way when it comes to who suggests it first! he can be a lil clueless and detached from the world sometimes so he may not even really know what pegging is until u explain it to him. the way his face would change as you go into detail would be so adorable, he’s all nervous nose scrunches and awkward squirming. you can physically see how excited the idea gets him, and he’s down for it almost immediately. he’s honestly pretty flattered that you want him that way hehehe typical binnie, it fuels his lil leo heart like nothing else even if he’s a bit embarrassed over the idea of being in such a vulnerable position in front of you. he’d definitely end up looking up things like “how to look cool and sexy but also cute while getting pegged” as his version of preparation lol. if he’s the one to ask you for it, he’s so so endearing abt it. strangely quiet and timid, ducking his head, shuffling his feet as he struggles to mumble out the question…he’s literally one step away from sinking to the floor and covering his face once he manages to stammer the words. he gives you the most irresistible pout when you tease him for it, if you rest your hands on his hips n tell him how pretty he’s gonna look filled up w you, he will melt instantly. literally weak in the knees over just the thought of it, suddenly he's ready for you to take him right then n there hehe. lots of dramatic whines and swatting shyly at your shoulder through the entire process, bc even if he thrives off your attention, he’s still a teensy bit of a tsundere when he gets so much of it <3

his anticipation is obvious w the way he’s watching everything you do w wide, starry eyes and wiggling around constantly in the sheets. but even so, he tries to put on a brave front bc he wants to impress you, show you how good of a boy he can be for you! when you first push into him you’d get a lot of nervous babbling though 😭 he goes from “don’t hold back, i can take it” to “ah wait wait wait it’s big, slow down” to “it actually d-doesn’t feel that—moans” to “faster please, harder please, deeper please” he gets so talkative and vocal over every little move you make like he’s narrating his thoughts, it’s so cute. esp when you thrust into him extra good and suddenly he shuts all his rambling up w a sharp, high-pitched moan. he is so ridiculously whiny too, esp if you start to make playful comments here n there abt how he’s being such a good boy, taking you so well, moving his hips so well, like his body was made to be fucked like this <3 it simultaneously makes him glow w pride and flusters him out of his mind bc he isn’t sure it’s normal how turned on the thought of being your pretty lil doll makes him (it might be too much for him during ur first time but if you eventually added breeding into the mix he’d lose it mind). like channie, he’s extra starved for your praise when you peg him, so showering him w compliments is a must!! even if they make him pout for you to stop embarrassing him, he isn’t very good at hiding how much he basks in it. drag your hands all over his body and fawn over how strong n beautiful it is, call him your pretty boy as you pull him closer by his hips to reach deeper inside him, murmur how irresistible he is right before you sink your teeth into his broad shoulders ❤️‍🔥 he will literally be making the filthiest, most shameless, wanton sounds you can imagine, and hearing them only turns him on even more. i think binnie definitely has a thing for listening to his own moans when he’s really far gone hehe it makes him feel so slutty in the best way…his voice gets so sweet and cute when you’re making him feels worlds of pleasure he’s never felt before, who could blame him for loving the sound of it, really. also…cup his chest as you get rougher w your thrusts and he’s a complete goner. esp if you squeeze his pecs together and tease him for how they’re so big that you have to hold them down bc they keep bouncing hehe. all it would take is leaning down to suck on his nipples and he’s cumming untouched

hyunjin - he is most definitely thinking abt it from the moment you two get together. it’s smth he wants so bad but if he had to say it out loud he may actually just die of sheer embarrassment, so he keeps it to himself no matter how much he craves it. the question of if you’ll ever bring it up w him is constantly on his mind, bc even if you’re in a d/s relationship, he isn’t sure if you’d be into that aspect of it n he’s worried you’ll think he’s weird for wanting it…hyune’s another shy one who can have a hard time voicing his desires outside of the bedroom ㅠㅠ i think the only surefire way you could really draw it out of him is in the middle of a scene or right after one, where his emotions are still running high and he’s completely controlled by his desire without any of his usual inhibitions, that’s where he tends to say things that he’d be too hesitant to say otherwise, then blush over it later. he might get too lost in the adrenaline rushing through his veins and starts moaning abt how he wants you inside him, to fuck him until he can’t remember his own name, to make him yours in every possible way. it’s very intense and sensual, and at first you wonder if he’s just saying these things in the heat of the moment. but when you ask him abt it afterwards, he suddenly gets so quiet and shy, burying his red face into your neck n mumbling that he can’t believe he said those things out loud </3 and his reaction is all the confirmation you need to know he meant every word~

hyune’s neediness will be battling it out w his awkwardness the entire time you’re prepping him. poor baby is very self critical and can’t stop thinking abt all the things that could go wrong—if you won’t enjoy it, if he’ll look weird, if his size will make it a lil awkward to navigate…you’d need to be very observant of him n pay close attention to his expressions to make sure he’s fully relaxed bc his emotions show all over his face! once your fingers slip inside of him though, he starts to let loose, you can tell by the way his voice rings out loud and clear, suddenly not having any care in the world other than how it feels to be stretched out by you. seeing him slip into that headspace that’s so vulnerable yet so passionate is always smth to marvel at ❤️‍🔥it’s no secret that jinnie is very good w his hips and he makes perfect use of that talent in this situation. he’ll end up grinding down desperately against your palm without even realizing it, rolling his entire body and begging for your strap before you’ve even had the chance to add a third finger n fully open him up. just like chan, his reservations go out the window the moment you actually push the toy inside of him. he makes the most insane facial expressions, eyes rolling back, plump lips swelling and coated w drool from how much he bites down on them, thick brows scrunching together…when his sleepy eyes are blown wide w lust it makes for the most gorgeous sight <3 and if that isn’t enough to tell you how good he’s feeling, he is also extremely vocal too. lots of needy whimpers and groans that are so stretched out you’d think he was exaggerating them. even if he’s bigger than you, he’ll let you toss him around like he’s completely weightless into any position you want, he’s like putty in ur hands. he’d go crazy if you pulled his legs up on your shoulders (speaking of…catboy anon once had the idea of hyune spraying perfume on his ankles so you can smell it when they’re up by ur head and…he absolutely would 😵‍💫 he’s so thoughtful n romantic even when youre putting him through the mattress) if you snaked your hand up his body while taking him from behind and wrapped your fingers around his throat, he would fall apart in a matter of seconds. especially if you pulled him back against your chest by his hair or throat and held him there

jisung - han jisung has been waiting for this moment his entire life 🙏 from the beginning he hardly makes it a secret how desperately he wants you to peg him, he’s probably the one who asks for it first! even if you also have it in mind, he’s so eager that he doesn’t even give you the chance to pose the question, he’s one step ahead of you. long before you two ever discuss the idea, he’s already become very familiar w fingering himself and using all kinds of toys on himself…baby’s got bad hehe. he might even already have a strap prepared bc he’s hopeful that one day he’ll get to try it w you…n he’s definitely gotten off to the thought of it countless times 😽 he’s honestly a lil shameless once he learns that you’re just as down as he is, but his reaction is so endearing. he goes from stuttering out the question through breathy, awkward chuckles, to perking up like an excited puppy when you respond positively. his eyes practically gleam and he breaks out into the widest, sunniest smile repeating “really? really really? like, seriously? you’re not making fun of me, right? i’ll get really sad if you’re just teasing”…w his big doe eyes n hopeful face, who wouldn’t give him anything his lil heart desires

he’s ready to go right away, you may actually have to stop him from running to go retrieve his strap and bring it to you right then and there 😭 he’s so grateful and so enthusiastic, neither of you really anticipates the sudden bout of shyness that inevitably hits him once you actually start to lead up into the pegging. he’s fingered himself plenty of times before, and that knowledge makes for the perfect opportunity for you to tease him a lil, telling him to finger himself open in front of you so you can see how he likes it slide into him w ease~ he whines like crazy but still does his best to obey…lying down n spreading his legs for you, unable to mask the neediest whimpers that build in his throat the more he pushes into himself, wishing it was you instead. though his face is burning w embarrassment, he also sees it as a good opportunity to appeal to you, too. he tries to show you a preview of how pretty he’ll look once you finally fuck him, playing out his moans and facial expressions to rile you up. eventually, though, his patience wears thin and he just starts begging for you to take over ): after all, poor hannie has done this alone far too many times, he needs you. he’s so ridiculously squirmy once you finally ease into him, to the point where you might have to hold him down or restrain him somehow so you can fuck him properly. it’s difficult for him to sit still no matter how hard he tries, he’s just so full of energy and reactive to every lil bit of stimulation, keening desperately when you pull out of him and gasping dramatically when you thrust back in all at once. he’s never felt this full in his life and he feels like he could sob from relief finally getting to experience it. he wants to try everything—one minute he wants you to take him softly n sensually, the next he wants you pounding into him. he’d keep begging for smth new every few minutes bc he’s so eager he’s just aching to try it all, like he might not get the chance to again. that goes for positions too; missionary, mating press, doggy, full nelson, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, etc. he esp loves riding you bc he feels like he’s putting on a show for you! he gets to bask in all your attention and praises as he bounces on your strap, not bothering to hold back his whines and moans in the slightest bc he knows how much you love them <3 if you could manage to hold him up against a wall and fuck him like that w his legs hooked around your waist, he would absolutely lose his mind, he likes being manhandled a lil bit too. he wants you to just completely wreck him in every way possible, to the point where he’s covered w hickeys and bite marks and can barely walk afterwards. he will most definitely try to subtly brag abt it to the other boys abt it the next day, complaining abt how sore he is and letting out cute, exaggerated noises of discomfort when he sits down or exerts himself too hard…he’s a lil proud of it hehe but if anyone actually points it out he’ll turn beet red and curl into himself, trying not to get turned on all over again from the mere memory of what you did to him

felix - curious kitty #2! in lix’s case, it’s not really a matter of if, but when. pegging is smth he’s always wanted to try out given how eager he is to explore every kink under the sun w you, to him it’s more a matter of whether or not you would be willing to. you both fall into the roles so naturally in a way he's longed for his entire life, and once that trust is established n fostered between the two of you, he’s more than ready to give you his all knowing that he’ll be safe n accepted w you <3 even if he's a lil reserved n awkward abt it, he really makes it no secret what he wants, and he has the added privilege of looking so unfairly innocuous even when asking you to do the wildest things to him…you never quite know what to expect from him next. he’s definitely experimented w fingering himself in the past, but bc his fingers are so small a lot of the time it’s difficult for him to hit the right angles or satisfy himself properly, so he just ends up even more frustrated and needy, wishing you were the one fucking him instead ):

lixie’s a very thoughtful boy just like chan and lino, he wants to make things go as smoothly as possible to show you how grateful he is that you would do this for him! but he ends up being pretty reliant on you through the whole process, he can’t help but look to you for guidance on every little thing so his tendency to overthink means you might have to coddle him a lil more than usual ㅠㅠ he’s so sweet and obedient though, literally the good boy of your dreams following each gentle command you give him w a giddy smile. like minho, he’d absolutely love to suck your strap beforehand, both as a way to get it nice n wet and to turn you on…do not fall for those big, angelic eyes looking up at you as he takes the toy as far down his throat as he can…he knows exactly what he’s doing ❤️‍🔥 it also eases his mind a bit to be able to do smth for you, he gets so into it he almost forgets what’s to come and would gladly keep going until his voice is hoarse. once you first enter him (w plenty of lube…i think lix would need it hehe) he’d also love to just stay that way for a bit and “cockwarm” you…he gets a lil sappy abt it and just wants to be in your lap, face to face w you nestled inside him as he adjusts to the stretch. w lots n lots of kissing!! eventually though he starts to get a lil squirmy, letting out soft lil grunts, and you can feel him growing harder where his cock is wedged between the two of you. so you grab hold of his waist and encourage him to start riding you <3 lix would be another one who loves positions where he can feel small, even if he’s bigger than you! he’d feel so safe and secure nuzzling into your neck as he bounces on your lap, and being held down w his legs over his head in a mating press would make his brain melt into mush. i think his favorite would definitely be full nelson though hehe…smth abt how helpless and exposed he is in that position turns him on to an insane degree. he’d also definitely find a way to hold your hands in whichever position you take <3 the noises he makes start out very low and husky w your careful thrusts, but the more you pick up the pace the higher and louder his voice gets. he sounds so sweet and angelic, the moment you first hit his prostate he makes a sound that you have trouble even believing came from him bc of how squeaky it comes out, like a cute lil shout. if you had him in missionary, his legs would be wrapped tight around you the entire time, making it a lil more difficult to move bc he’s got some strong thighs but the gesture is so cute u dont mind. it also makes for the perfect opportunity to tease him that he must want you to finish inside him n fill him up…you can physically see the effect those words have on him. his eyes go so wide and his whole body shudders, and just like that he’s climaxing <3 a few days later you’ve got lixie looking innocent as ever, beaming at you as he presents you w the new ejaculating strap he got to make it a reality hehe

seungmin - minnie is shy!! not necessarily in the giggly, blushy, stuttery way like chan. seungmin is more modest, reserved, and quiet—a lil awkward abt it. out of all the boys, i think he would be the least inclined to try pegging, and he definitely isn’t the one to bring it up, so that’s all in your hands. when you suggest incorporating it into your dynamic, at first he’d probably be pretty unwilling to explore it and just flat out says no bc he just doesn’t think he could feel fully comfortable w smth like that. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spend a lot of time mulling it over in private, even after he’s initially rejected the idea. his lil analytical virgo brain starts to think abt why you’d be interested in pegging in the first place, the new kinds of pleasure it would bring you both, the intimacy of an act like that, and how it might bring you and him closer together to experience. do not be fooled by his composure, kim seungmin is a sentimental softie who is very in touch w his emotions!! his desire to connect w you however he can extends to all facets of your relationship, and as daunting as the vulnerability of subbing can be for him sometimes, that vulnerability is the exact same reason why he values it so much. so, eventually, he decides that the same can be applied to bottoming for the first time and he changes his own mind hehe

he wants to be good for you. he’s so disciplined and obedient, he takes it very seriously and is genuinely a perfect sub (when he wants to be lol, sometimes he’s difficult on purpose) but when trying smth so out of his wheelhouse for the first time, he has some trouble shaking the awkwardness which makes him a lil stiff, a bit less pliant than usual. poor seungmo can’t help but be hyperaware of every sound he lets slip out, every expression he makes, every embarrassing, involuntary reaction his body has to your minstrations. so you can imagine how all of that would be turned up to a 100 when it comes to pegging bc all the focus is on him and his pleasure. he isn’t used to having that degree of attention on his body, esp not…those parts of his body. he’s even shyer than you’re used to during foreplay, just letting a few sighs and grunts slip and looking away timidly when you stare at him for too long. you’d have to be extra observant of his reactions and facial expressions to see what he likes the most, bc he has a tendency to suppress himself. one thing he does make sure to do though is periodically let you know that he’s still okay, through a quick lil nod or hand squeeze. he’d prefer to start out w him lying on his tummy, not facing you. it spares him the embarrassment of you seeing his features twist in pleasure, and he can also push his face into the pillows to mask all his noises. he might wanna wear a big hoodie or sweater to cover up his body too. i think he’d spend extra time adjusting in comparison to the other boys, partially bc he’s nervous n partially bc he wants to bask in the moment a bit. kinda like lix, he really values the closeness of just being connected like that and stays unmoving w you inside him for a while <3 he starts off swallowing down his noises so they only come out as cute, hushed lil whimpers, but as you start to ease in and out of him, even he can’t hold back as much as he wants to. it feels so strange but so relieving, almost like you’re fulfilling a desire he hadn’t even known was there until now. he mostly lets out gentle exhales and mewls, and when you hit his sweet spot for the first time, a full on gasp, which is pretty dramatic for seungmin hehe. even if you can’t see his expressions, you can see his fingers digging into the sheets and his muscles clenching with effort and his hips starting to rock into the mattress. if you leaned down to press kisses down his spine, he would shudder so beautifully n let out the sweetest moan for you. when he’s far gone enough to give in completely to the pleasure, he goes limp beneath you and allows you to flip him over so you can finally get a look at his pretty blissed out face. and when you do, he looks up at you w the most adoring lovestruck puppy gaze like you put the stars in the sky, just pure hearts floating in his big brown eyes that immediately lets you know he’s way more into this than either of you thought he’d be 🥰

jeongin - like binnie, i think there’s a good chance he might be kinda clueless as to what pegging even really is, so he wouldn’t be the one to suggest it first or even consider it an option. when you first introduce the idea to him, poor innie sputters smth like “eh? that’s a thing????” and you can practically see a whole new world of possibilities opening up in his wide, sparkly eyes. it makes his heart race a bit if he’s being honest, but he also feels a lil unsure abt it bc he’s never even really thought abt having anything…go inside of him…just imagining it gets him all squirmy, red in the face, n playing nervously w his ears. he’d probably call you a perv at first for even wanting smth like that and acts like he isn’t interested in trying it…however…just like seungmin, do not be fooled!! he spends the next several days thinking abt it, maybe a lil too often. in innie’s case he keeps going back to it partially out of curiosity, and partially bc he is very much a pleaser who craves your approval deep down, almost to the same degree as chan and jisung. he just doesn’t want you to know that hehe…unfortunately for him it’s kinda obvious in the way he brings it up many times afterwards, mostly through asking questions that he thinks are casual like “so…*clears throat* how big would it even be?” or “is it really supposed to feel that good?” or even nagging you like “seriously, why’d you have to say smth so weird? now i can’t stop thinking abt it” w lots of awkward giggles to make it seem like a joke but when he’s constantly making lil comments abt it unprovoked you quickly start to catch on hehe…he looks so genuinely hopeful and curious without even realizing, you can’t help but tease him a bit for how transparent he is

i think innie really wants to impress you! as you’re leading into the pegging he’s extra nervous and kinda out of his element, bc he feels like he can’t really do anything to appeal to you like usual…he sometimes tends to lean into the role of a service sub bc he feeds off your praises like nothing else. he loves when you teach him how to please you properly, even more so when he does it right and earns a proud reaction from you, a moan or a headpat and a "good boy". but when he’s the one getting all the pleasure…well, as much as he craves being the center of your attention, he inevitably gets a bit bashful. he will be hiding his face a lot, covering his eyes w his fingers or clamping his hand over his mouth trying to stifle himself bc the sounds that are leaving his lips are embarrassingly loud. like channie, he'd need a lot of praise and reassurance through it all! he can't even try to pretend like he's confident or knows what he's doing, and the entire time he's watching you w the widest, most fascinated gaze that gives away how much he really depends on you to guide him through it. he giggles so much, both out of shyness and in an attempt to ease his nerves. he can barely get a sentence out without tripping over his words or letting out breathy lil chuckles, and you have to periodically remind him to loosen up a bit as you're fingering him open bc he stiffens every time a jolt of pleasure passes through him. it’s all so unfamiliar but so good, he feels like he has no control over his body anymore, and that only amplifies once you actually slide your strap inside. he is gasping and writhing and letting out the most shameless moans he's ever heard in his life, but as much as it makes his face burn red, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself no matter how hard he tried. the best way to get him to relax and completely melt into it is to whisper sweet words to him through it all, tell him how pretty he looks and sounds when he’s feeling good, how well he's taking every inch of you even when he’s so tight, how he's such a good boy and a fast learner <3 jeongin quickly learns that the praises you give him simply for getting fucked into a cute moaning mess make his brain short circuit like nothing else, he could get addicted to it. i think he’s one of the most likely to go a lil dumb from it hehe…he leans a lot more into the guilty pleasure side of him that’s used to being pampered n doted on~

[chellestrash]

Pretty and Sweet

Frank Castle x F!Reader

request: Omg I got Drabble in my mind Please write Frank Castle being obsessed with reader wearing Lacey pinky clothes because she looks cute in it and then he says things like“Such a pretty girl” “you look adorable in this I should get you clothes, would you like that sweetheart?”Or him being a soft dom and overstiming the reader in their lingerie“Just one more sweet girl”“your shaking honey” Just like praising her the whole time and being sweet but is being rough 🤭 Frank just gives that vibe he’d be so sweet

warnings: pet names, explicit language, smut, teasing, fingering (f!receiving), sub!reader, dom!frank

word count: 1k

a/n: i haven't done requests in sooooo long I'm not even sure if I know what to do anymore. I know this tool a lot longer than it probably should and I'm aware its not exactly what you asked for anon but i did my best i hope you get to enjoy it. If you end up reading it please let me know what you think!

“You gonna wear all that and then try to tell me you weren't trying to get my attention, sweetheart. Huh?”

Frank's voice rumbles through the air, filling the dark space of the bedroom the moment his body leans over yours. You smile a soft innocent smile, contrary to the current situation you found yourself in. 

“I just thought they were pretty.”

Dragging your finger over the straps of the pastel pink lingerie, you trace your eyes up and back to his face. The warm feeling at the bottom of your stomach gradually grows stronger as you let Frank's eyes skim over your body. His big hands were on either side of your head, his chest hung in the air over your own, one of his knees now wedged between your legs.

“Yeah?”

The firm frown on his face makes the muscles in your thighs twitch slightly and for a second you wonder if he noticed. He did. His eyebrows raise slightly and an unimpressed expression on his face when he glances down and back up into your eyes the second your body betrays you.

“Really?”

You fight with yourself, trying to play this off as nonchalantly as possible but you know, you know with Frank, with the way he knows his way around you, that's nearly impossible. 

“One question is all it takes to get to you, sweetheart?”

“Frank.”

You begin to explain yourself, the heat on your face prickling slightly when his eyes trace over your body one more time.

“Shh shh shh.”

That goddamn whisper. You swallow hard, feeling his thumb brush over the edge of your lower lip. The pounding in your chest picks up slightly.

“Just wanted me to see you in this, huh?”

You nod, a silent confirmation followed by Frank's quiet, low chuckle. 

“Right so, let's say I believe you, yeah?”

With your eyes fixed on his you listen, your chest rising and falling faster than before when his hand finally caresses your body. 

“Do you like it?”

You whisper, your hand now resting on his bigger one. His fingers brush over your sides, over the soft fabric of the lacy details. Frank scoffs, not at your question, only at the fact that you try to question the way he could feel about this. 

“Really gonna ask me that?”

Tracing over the straps, his eyes drop one more time. Following his gaze, his fingers trace over the many straps and buckles of your pastel pink lingerie set. You watch as he lets out a quiet grunt, followed by a hum when his eyes shut for a moment.

“Such a pretty girl, huh?”

Mumbling the praise he finds your eyes again, a split second before your body involuntarily reacts to his words.

“All that for me?”

Squirming under his body, you nod quickly. The need for his touch rises with every other minute he chooses to devote to letting the situation get the best of you. 

“Frankie, answer me.”

Feeling brave, you use the pet name to get his attention. His focus is now on your face once more, eyebrows raised, impressed with your choice of words.

“Oh, look at that, using your big girl words today?”

Moving his knee to the side, Frank pushes your legs apart slightly more. His hands are still on your side, rubbing over your exposed skin. The touch feels reassuring and so do his words. 

“Just want to know if you like the set. I picked it up in the store I thought it-”

“Sweetheart, the only place this thing would look better is right there on the floor.”

He nods his head to the side and you feel yourself getting warmer again. Rising your hips slightly, you gently grind against his leg once, then pause, waiting for his response. 

“You wanna ruin these? Hmm, you think it's worth it, sweetheart?”

Dragging his fingers down your stomach and then over the fabric, Frank begins to rub slow, gentle circles over your center through the pink fabric. Your lips part with a quiet gasp and your fingers wrap tightly around his free hand. The touch you’ve waited on for so long now, finally where you wanted it the most. Thankful for his decision,you breathe out relieved. Relaxing your body into Frank's palm, you confirm your desire for his attention. 

“That okay? Hmm? Can I touch you here, baby?”

The pressure intensifies slightly, your breath hitches, legs pressing together faster than you can even attempt to stop it.

“Mhm.”

You murmur, not wanting his question to remain hanging in the silence of the room.

“Think we're gonna have to get rid of those, huh, sweetheart?”

The question rings out in your head as you try your best to focus on Frank's words once more. Hooking his fingers over the waistband of the lower part of the pink underwear, he pulls the fabric down, his body moving as he leans closer to you. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, he presses a gentle kiss right under your belly button. His warm kisses follow the soft sensation of the fabric brushing over your skin while Frank exposes more and more of you with every kiss. 

Finally touching you without the barrier of the garment, Frank chuckles softly, satisfied but not surprised with how much the whole situation got to you.

“Attagirl, you like that, huh?”

Paired with his touch the question has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and you dig your nails into his palm. 

“Fr-”

You start, but pause, biting your lip once he slips his finger inside you slowly.

“Shhh shhh shhh, that's it, sweet girl, that's it.”

Turning his head to the side, he plants the kiss on the inside of your thigh, the touch even softer than the kisses from moments ago. After pulling them out, he pushes his fingers inside again, then again and again. The repeated motion picks up pace as he begins to work his thumb over your clit.

“Oh f-mmmm.”

You hum, and he scoffs loudly, breaking the overly sweet character. He can't help but tease you and your hips buck up slightly.

“Shit, sweetheart, really? That much?”

“Frank-”

“You wanna say something? Hmm? Think you’ll have to speak up, baby.”

The pet name contrasts with the teasing character of the statement and your body reacts one more time. 

“Cause if you won't talk sweetheart. I think this will take a long, looong time.”

[allthegothihopgirls]

i think most of the robins bit people in fights at some point. they never really talked about it but i think it’s almost a requirement because as much as they’re all very traumatized children they’re also very feral children, in spandex suits, fighting mentally ill people, so it had to have happened a few times.

also i think damian’s one of those kids who goes up the stairs on all fours when no one is looking. let him be a weird gremlin of a kid when no one’s around

i'm not sure that 'feral' is the exact term i'd use when describing the robins, except maybe young jason. i think they're a lot more unhinged than they are feral. as much as dick was a 'circus freak', and tim rarely had attentive parental figures, and damian was raised by the league, their upbringings were still all somewhat controlled + structured.

i think that with the biting, although it goes unmentioned, bruce would notice it (and maybe touch on it not being the ideal attack to make), but apart from that i just don't think it's something they really recognise as a 'thing'.

(i have a lot of thoughts about the headcanon of jason actually biting people as a defence mechanism, whether it be in combat or at the manor, but that's somewhat off-topic.)

i see a lot of people saying that they don't think damian would bite or engage in all that 'unsophisticated' behaviour because of his upbringing, but i just don't agree. at the end of the day he's still a kid, and slowly letting go of the negative practices enforced on him by the league. of course he's going to still have childish impulses, i think he just learns to give into them more the longer he stays at the manor.

i think if he were to get into hand-on-hand combat with any of his older brothers (even if it be over something stupid), he would sooooo resort to biting them if they had him in some kind of hold. he might even do it as robin. i've seen people who say he wouldn't diminish his training by resorting to that, but once again i don't agree. he's resourceful, biting is just another skill in his arsenal, and he's 100% aware that it adds to his little shit reputation™.

and he definitely just. acts like a kid sometimes, and is SO odd about it. whether it be by going up and down the stairs weirdly, meowing to alfred the cat, making race car tracks out of household items that span several rooms, getting overly excited about a certain tv show or book series, choosing outfits that clearly don't match but make him happy, etc etc (i have a post about how damian might act like a regular kid, in more detail)

[lifblogs]

Better Late Than Dead

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairing: Tech/Phee Word Count: 1268 Summary: Tech arrives on Pabu for the first time since he was rescued from Dr. Hemlock, and put his mind back together (mostly). A special someone is there waiting for him. AUTHOR'S NOTE: Disclaimer, I have PCS (Post-Concussion Syndrome) so this story could be a mess, it could be great. I don't know, but I tried, and I had fun. First story I've written since I hit my head. I am sooooo nervous about it for some reason. This fandom seems like nothing but kind, though. If you read it, thank you. READ ON AO3

Tech paused getting off the ramp. Once he stepped off onto Pabu he would no longer just be on the Marauder with his family. He would exist in a public space, with people who… might not understand, who would see him differently. He was different.

There were some stares from the crowd, but he couldn’t track all of them, faces blurring and disappearing as he watched. But maybe those eyes were still on him.

Subconsciously, he touched the back of his head, feeling the metal plate there that replaced part of his skull, felt the lines where his scalp had split, where either through injury or one of his many surgeries his brain had been exposed. His new and enhanced left eye (replacing the gouged one from Plan 99) searched the space before him frantically, but he tried to take in what the right saw first: bright, blue skies with white, puffy clouds; a calm ocean for kilometers on end; happy people in colorful clothing—survivors, every one of them. How could such a place exist when he’d been through such horrors in Hemlock’s dark labs? Now it was like this beautiful place only half-existed.

The beauty was what his right eye saw. The left one… He hadn’t had a chance to reprogram it yet. Most of what he saw through it was a dizzying array of heat signatures, structural integrities, and the best places to shoot a target. According to his eye, everyone was a target. This was all superimposed over his regular vision from his right eye. The confusing signals to his brain usually left him with the feeling as if his eyes were being scooped out (half a phantom pain and reminiscent of his real horrors), and it would throb up into his head. With the metal plate added in, he had more headaches than he could manage on most days.

Still feeling anxiety churning in his gut; cold, clammy fear gripping the back of his neck and stripping him bare, he held up his new datapad. Tech decided to do a quick check of his metabolic system, and the absorption levels of his various injected pain meds, and their half-lives. This was done through a chip implanted at the base of his skull. Unfortunately that had required an extra surgery, seeing as that hadn’t fit in the area where he’d needed his skull repaired.

His datapad beeped quietly, and a yellow bar showed up near the top. He’d need to re-inject his left hip soon.

Tech glanced up, the real galaxy around him becoming too real. Coming towards the ramp with a hesitant smile and shining eyes was Phee.

His heart suddenly seemed too big, blood somehow beating hard all across his torso, even as it crawled up his throat. Phee. He really had thought of her, even remembered one instance of Hemlock torturing him for mentioning her name. He shuddered, his mechanical left leg shifting in a way that seemed too obvious and inhuman to him.

Tech wasn’t the same.

Am I even Tech?

No, no. You’ve… you’ve been over this already. Done the work. I. Am. Tech.

And he had thought about Phee in what he had thought would be his last moments. He’d surprisingly had the time to think about a lot of people.

He’d thought about his last-minute realization, and he’d mourned what could have been. And now… there she was. Here he was. Pabu. Safety. Phee.

Tech took a deep breath, tried to swallow back his fear, and stepped down the ramp, all too aware of how he looked now. Feeling clumsy with this changed body, he struggled to put his datapad back on his belt. One last thing to put between this moment and the next, the inevitable.

Phee met him at the bottom of the ramp, letting him step off. For a moment the voices around them dimmed, but neither of them spoke.

Oh no, she’s horrified. She’s disgusted. She’s—

“You look different.”

Blunt, as always.

“Oh.”

“I think I like it.”

“You… do?” Tech asked, caught off guard as he usually was with her. (How could anyone script conversations with a flirtatious, bold pirate?)

She shrugged. Was she… crying?

Some of his vision blurred. His eye malfunctioning? No. His right one. He was crying.

Hesitantly, she touched his shoulder. Tech jumped a little, but let her warm, assuring touch stay there. He wondered what that hand felt like—strong, calloused.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Was this him? All these differences, and injuries, and modifications?

Well, he was still Tech, so he supposed that made the plate in his skull him, the chip, the cybernetic leg, and eye. Still… Tech. Just different. A new Tech.

“I suppose.” He was surprised to hear himself speak.

“Then of course I like it! But I have a bone to pick with you.”

Tech almost backed away, startled, as her finger prodded against his chest.

What bone?

What—Oh!

“Seven months?!” she went on, voice raised and rough. “I don’t see you for seven months?! And all I could get out of Mr. Face Tattoo was that you were ‘indisposed.’”

“Sorry I’m… late,” he got out, as if that somehow summed up everything that had changed his life, that had even affected hers.

That’s when a sob left Phee, and her tears spilled, and she cupped Tech’s scarred face in her hand. It was calloused, just like he’d thought it’d be. Something about her touch was reassuring and invigorating all at once.

And it was kind.

Tech hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone outside his family to support him until that moment. It left him weak in his right knee, and he might have trembled.

Phee sobbed again, and then got out with a smile bright enough to rival the stars, “But still—better late than dead, I always say.”

Tech held her hand against his face for a second, marveling at the feeling, her words. Then he wasn’t sure who pulled who into an embrace, but suddenly she was flush against him, her heart beating fast, chest moving with her sobs, a wild scent of ocean salt, island fruit, and some kind of warm spice surrounding him. With his chin tucked against her shoulder, and her head resting against his he learned her hair was a softness he’d never felt before.

“Though of course you had to lose one brown eye on me,” she joked. He was surprised when it didn’t hurt, not from her.

“I’ll try not to lose the other one.”

“You’d better. What am I supposed to call you now? ‘Brown Eye’ doesn’t sound romantic.”

“We could… make it romantic,” he ventured, voice a soft murmur against her.

Phee laughed, and pulled back, patting his cheek. “Honey, I’m not sure you know what romance is.”

For the first time since Plan 99, months and months ago, Tech laughed—something he’d thought he would never be capable of again. And, he thought, maybe he’d like to do it again. With Phee.

“I’m smart,” he assured her, watching as she wiped away her tears, wishing he could do it for her. He went on, surprising himself, “I’m sure I can learn.”

Phee took his hand in hers, and Tech was startled by how much he enjoyed that her hand was smaller than his.

“Well, come on then,” she said, starting to drag him along, towards society as a whole new person. “You’re gonna have a lot of studying to do.”

Tech smiled, somehow, as he followed her, leaving just a little bit of that dark lab behind him.

[nqctar]

hi! thank u for doing cg!riize fics/imagines justice 🥺 i love everything you've put out so far 🫶🏻🫶🏻 can i request headcanons as to how cg!anton would put his little to sleep when he/she is too hyper nearing bedtime? tysm!! looking forward to it!!

tysm for requesting this!

이찬영 / anton lee ★

pairings: cg! anton lee x f!little reader. genre: sfw age regression, fluff. warnings: nonsexual usage of 'daddy' no major warnings apply. dni: if you sexualize little space.

you for the most part hate having a bedtime

and anton knows this!

…but you can’t stay up until 4 am seven days a week, it’s just not healthy

so it’s probably one of the few things cg!anton is strict about

doesn’t mean you’re gonna listen to him though!

you know it’s closer to your bedtime when anton starts helping you pick your toys up

he smiles at you, knowing you’re about to throw a fit

“let’s go to sleep, baby.”

“don’t want to daddy!” you pout. anton mouthed your words as you spoke, knowing you’d run the same line you’ve already given him 100 times before

when you get sassy, he’s gonna get sassier

“you can’t make me go to bed!”

“fine! but when you're walking around like a zombie tomorrow, don't say i didn't try to stop you..”

“you're such a meanie.”

his eyes wander around the room, making a show of ignoring the way you’re pouting at him

at some point he tries bribing you with your paci, and you almost fall for it!

but then you decide to not let anton win yet. so you start running around the living room, alternating between singing and making airplane noises (mainly to annoy anton)

it's way past your bedtime by now, and anton's getting a tad bit frustrated as you show no signs of wanting to slow down

"can you please stop running, baby?" he asks you, tone still patient as ever.

"NOPE! NEVER!"

and then you start throwing pillows at him

anton is sooooo done at this point

realizes he has to stop you once you start yelling "hey anton!"

& you know it's serious when his voice gets "louder" (heavy on the quotation marks, he would literally never raise his voice at you)

"y/n, it's past your bedtime. i need you to stop running around." the seriousness in his voice makes you stop in your tracks

you pout and mope all the way to the bathroom, even ignoring anton when he tries to hold your hand

which makes him feel bad for "scolding" you

he helps you go through your night routine, making sure to give you lots of kisses and call you pretty names!

carries you all the way to your shared bedroom, and then he helps you pick out a comfy pair of pjs!! which he just so happens to have a matching set of :D

anton would pull you close to his chest once you two are settled in bed and then kiss your forehead

"you're so pretty, baby" he'd whisper to you, with the pet name + compliment making your cheeks flush. you smile and curl into him some more.

"sorry for not listening, daddy."

anton starts humming to you quietly, a sure way of getting you to fall asleep.

"it's okay, angel. just sleep now, hm?"

this ended up being longer than i thought it would be, sorry! i hope you like it though and tysm for requesting <3

[robertseanleonardthinker]

we're in love by badflower is so hilson to me. particularly from wilson's pov.

(whoops, this ended up being a lot longer than i meant it to. gay wilson hc rambling ahead!)

imo, wilson is gay. he, of course, loves his wives. he's full of love!!!! but he misconstrues the feeling of platonic love and romantic love. he's so deeply repressed that he just thinks this is the way it's supposed to be. wilson tries so hard, in all aspects of his life, to appear normal. this includes his sexuality. he's been attracted to and had feelings for men (house), but he always ignored them. maybe even thought that those were normal for straight men, as well. every guy checks out other dudes, right?

the repetition of the words "lights out" (in we're in love) is interesting to me. i'm of the idea that wilson and house hooked up in louisiana. drunk, tired, on his first divorce, freshly bailed put of jail by a stranger who found him "interesting." they're in his hotel room, lights off, bodies and faces invisible. and wilson represses that. they don't bring it up again.

wilson is so full of shame. his feelings stay in the dark. no light shines on that secret hidden deep in the back of his mind. the dark is the only time he can be himself ("the light's out, so fucking emasculate me/fuck away the fake me"). when the light of day will never touch him, when he can not see himself doing what he's doing.

the constant switch between shame and pride within the lyrics, going from "i know what i want, so let them isolate me" right back to "lights out!" also feels very much like wilson with his and house's relationship. i think house was who wilson cheated on his wives with (at least, most of the time. i wouldn't doubt there were more women, too). though ashamed of that feeling, that attraction, he couldn't do anything about it. it wouldn't go away. he kept coming back to house (often, again, drunk, tired, and emotionally fried) and loving him in the dark.

the line "i know who you are, and i don't care at all" can also be interpreted two ways. one being, he knows house is not his wife. the person he is pursuing is not the one he is in a closed, committed relationship with. the other being that house is, well, house. a man, and also his best friend of two decades.

tldr wilson is sooooo fucked up and repressed and needs sooo much therapy

[imagine-knb]

Captains with a childhood friend who was usually touchy and clingy suddenly stopping and when they confronted them, their friend admitted to starting to like them romantically and didn't want to take advantage? Pls let them end up together!

I wasn't sure which captains you wanted sooooo I did all of them lol Admin Neon

Hyuuga: He's always complaining about the random hugs and clinginess from you anyway, so when you stop doing it one day Hyuuga actually isn't all that bothered — he thinks, maybe, you finally decided to cool it a bit. He thought it meant you would be bothering him less, but when weeks go by and you still haven't greeted him with your usual death grip of a hug, he realizes you meant for the change to be permanent. It has him more upset than he would have originally thought and your explanation only manages to further confuse and upset him.

"Aren't you supposed to want to hold someone you like more?" he asks you, implying he wouldn't mind if you went back to doing that.

Kasamatsu: Prior to your confession, Kasamatsu already felt flustered every time you got touchy with him. He's not a very physically intimate guy in public, so the affection you showed him often left him red in the face and yelling in embarrassment. After your confession however, he's suddenly looking back on all those moments where you'd hugged him for a bit longer than necessary, where you'd let your fingertips graze over his skin, where you'd stared at him with what he now realized was longing. And he found himself missing the affection despite the embarrassment it brought him.

"You don't have to stop," he mumbles, looking away from you. It's not exactly a confession of his own, but it's enough for now.

Imayoshi: When you first started getting touchy with Imayoshi, he constantly teased you about being careful — he might fall for you, or vice versa, if you kept it up. After a while though, he began to think it was just part of your personality. After all, he wasn't the only person you got touchy with, you just took it a bit farther with him. He chalked it up to your long friendship with him and familiarity. Eventually he stops teasing you about it; you never reacted anyway so it was getting boring. The day you finally confess however, he's trying hard not to let you realize you'd caught him by surprise.

"Ah, see, I knew you would fall for me one day because of that," he teases. "But that's okay, because I was right about me, too."

Otsubo: The day you stopped outwardly showing him affection, Otsubo finds himself ranting to his younger sister — it was something he did often, actually. The two of you had been friends for so long, even his sister knew all the ins and outs to your personality. He was in the middle of a sentence, describing to her how you used to act before versus how you acted now, when it all seemed to suddenly click for him. Leaving his sister hanging, he goes to find you, shocking you when he asks you outright if you had deeper feelings for him.

"You don't have to hide them from me or stop what you were doing," he reassures. "Don't you know I've felt the same way?"

Okamura: He doesn't receive a lot of physical affection, romantic or platonic, so Okamura relished in every bit of affection you gave. If he was honest with himself, he would realize that the fleeting touches and lingering hugs had actually made him fall for you at some point. So when you suddenly stop giving him any affection one day, cutting him off cold turkey, he's upset and confused. He won't mention it at first, but after a while he starts to believe he's done something to upset you. When you reassure him it wasn't him and that you were simply being conscious of not taking advantage of him, well...

"You can take advantage of me!" he blurts before reddening as he realized what he said. "I mean. I like you, too. Please don't hold back."

Akashi: Being rather perceptive, it doesn't take Akashi long to realize why you were suddenly refusing to embrace him like you once did. He had started noticing the signs of your growing infatuation as soon as they started happening — the lingering glances, the soft blushes, the stuttered words — and he had been glad you'd finally caught up to the amount of affection he held for you. Maybe now you would be ready to take the relationship a step further. When you suddenly stopped giving him that affection however, he knew he had to clear up any confusion you may have had about his own feelings.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," he explains. "Not once did I ever say I didn't enjoy your affection. If I'm being honest, I crave it."

Nijimura: As one of his dearest and longest friends, Nijimura never really minded when you would cling to his side or hold onto his arm or tangle your fingers with his. In fact, he found it endearing. When you suddenly start treating him differently, he's quick to pick up on the shift in your dynamic with him, though he doesn't exactly know why it's happening at first. After confronting you and hearing your confession, his once hardened expression softens into one of understanding and, if you were to look closely, you would probably see the light flush on his cheeks.

"Please don't push me away because your feelings for me have evolved." Asking for your affection back was clearly not beneath him.

Hanamiya: On the outside, it always looked like Hanamiya was annoyed with your clinginess, but other than his mother, you were the only person who would willingly embrace him, so he didn't mind it as much as he made it seem. He doesn't mention it at first when you suddenly stop, letting things play out naturally — he was convinced you'd start up again on your own anyway. Eventually weeks go by though and you still haven't hugged him. People start to notice that he seems more prone to anger because of it, like the simple hugs he got from you daily had been the last thing grounding him.

"Hah, that's why you stopped?" he asks after your confession. He's glaring at you. "Idiot, that's not a good enough excuse. Get over here."

Iwamura: If there was one thing that Iwamura liked about you, it was how forthcoming you always were with your affection. You never beat around the bush — if you wanted a hug, you would take one; if you wanted to hold his larger hand in yours, you would grab it. So when you suddenly stop, coming up with weak excuses as to why your attitude toward him had changed, he starts to press you further for a truthful answer. He's not surprised when you eventually confess your deeper feelings for him, having seen in coming, and he supposed now was as good a time as any to tell you about his own feelings.

"I appreciate you being honest with me," he murmurs, moving a hand to place it on your cheek. "Allow me to be honest with you now."

Nash: Similarly to Imayoshi, Nash teases you about your touchy feely attitude with him from the very beginning. He's relentless, never letting you get a simple hug in without making some remark about how you're falling head over heels for him. You think he's just joking — that he doesn't mean it all seriously — but the day you stop giving him those affectionate touches, his attitude seems to sour. He doesn't take long to track you down, asking you what your problem was and if you didn't want to associate with him anymore. Your confession has his mood changing just as quickly as prior.

"You're not taking advantage of me if I liked it," he reassures with a smirk. "And I just so happen to like when you throw yourself at me."

[monstermoviedean]

to offer an additional thought on castiel's headspace

dean up until the rupture argument is kind of blunt and rude to castiel, and had previously stated if mary was gone, castiel was dead to him.

now, dean is not obligated to forgive castiel, but when castiel hears "why does it always seem to be you" he hears "why do you keep failing" and assumes any affection dean had for him has gone.

so he decides to leave because he thinks that up until this point (and started putting up with him) after 14x18, dean has just been putting up with him, so even if castiel knows dean has requested he stick around in the past, hes presuming any past requests no longer apply.

and dean is presuming castiel has finally realized that dean is toxic or something, so he doesnt wanna hold him down, especially if dean saw how distraught cas's expression was and regretted causing it.

anyway. i care about them sooooo much

i understand where you're coming from, and you make a lot of valid points. i do disagree on a few points - and i'm aiming for a discussion tone here, not a critical one, so i hope it comes across that way!

on dean being blunt and rude - i think you're referring to 15x01, when dean asks if cas is okay and then ends the conversation? and the 15x02 conversation about reality and the 15x03 fight? the latter two I'm iffy on. i'm fine saying dean was blunt, and definitely rude in the latter convo. but i also think cas backs him into a corner and demands a conversation dean isn't ready to have. i talked about that a little bit here. that's not to say that dean can say whatever he wants - just that cas is starting these conversations when dean can't really handle them. also, a little funny that cas can often be referred to as blunt and/or rude.

the line about cas being dead to him. ugh. that one i want to blame on berens. but if i take it at face value, yup, that's an unfair and hurtful thing to say! i don't think dean means it but that doesn't negate the hurt it causes.

dean isn't obligated to forgive - yes! and i'd like to add that cas hasn't given much of an apology yet. he's said he's sorry but that's about the extent of it. i've seen people discuss cas "playing" sorry rather than being sorry in the context of s7. while i don't think that's entirely true here, and i do believe cas is sorry, i also think it would have meant a lot to dean if cas sincerely apologized and showed he meant it by giving dean space. cas is not obligated to do this either, of course.

me personally, i don't think whether dean asks cas to stay or not factors much into cas' decision-making. i hear you on past requests not applying anymore, and i see the logic. but for me, cas didn't really honor those past requests either. he came and went as he pleased. so i have a little trouble believing that this was the one time cas wanted to stay and was going to stay if he'd "been allowed," just because the past pattern is primarily dean asking cas to stay and cas choosing to leave.

also, i have no evidence for this, but i would expect the bunker reminded cas of jack. i would imagine staying there would be difficult even if everything was fine between cas and dean.

i think this is an unstoppable force (cas) / immovable object (dean) situation. cas needs to push forward, he needs to talk things through with dean regardless of the consequences, he can't bear to have something "unfixed" when he could "fix" it. dean needs space and time to process his grief and anger and fear, and he can't handle those boundaries being pushed. they're both deeply hurt and they both hurt each other. it's not fair to either of them and it's awful to watch.

and on your last point - yes, i care about them so much too 😭 i've been focusing mainly on dean's perspective here because i see so many discussions of the rupture that essentially blame dean for everything - but i do try to understand cas' perspective too, and i value it.

[nicomrade]

so i reread the scott pilgrim comics this week for the first time since 2019? lots of stuff happened in my life in-between + i learned to actually like, pay attention when reading so this specific reread felt really important to me- the issue of reading it in french for the first time aside. heres some misc thoughts i had while reading! some of this stuff is drawing from conversations about the comics ive had with people over the years, i dont mean to break any new ground here, and i dont have a specific lense to look at the comics through so its not structured like analysis either. full thoughts under the cut! i hope you all like going on this little trip with me ^-^

so first of, the X motif! this i KNOW i saw someone else talk about. it comes up first on scott's jacket with the X-men patch (and it comes up again in that context- "then wolverine is crucified on a big X") and also on knives' scott-shrine, her dad slashes an X over scott's picture. these are the two biggest exemples but there really are Xs constantly in the imagerie of the comics, which is great and i love. the comic is about fighting ramona's exs, and this is foreshadowing that scott himself will be one, but its also generally about the baggage that comes with existing. at its core its really comics about dealing with whats over, so we get into scotts relationships w envy & kim & knives (& ramona), but we also get into his relationship with lisa (what couldve been) we also see him move flats (the end of an era!), in volume 1 scott tells knives about the house he grew up in that now belongs to another family, scott breaking his bass & no longer being in a band, etc. theres sooooo many flashback sequences in these comics and references to the past… its all about the X.!

loosely related in the foreshadowing department there are genuinely so many background details of stories about people who dont matter to the comics that foreshadow later developments. the details of why Crash & the Boys changed drummers is straight up the dynamics of Clash at Demonhead, theres the Lucas Lee movie on the BG thats visually identical to scotts memory of when he got with kim- and the reveal that the lady in that movie wasnt dead is arguably foreshadowing for scott reviving in volume 6? if you know whats happening in the story, rereading the volumes really is so rewarding. it also helps on a first read cause unconsciously its not the first time you're hearing about these ideas so theyre easier to digest & accept. this is also what the character explicitely referencing what will happen later is for- "i wonder how the Boys & Crash can do music without instruments- maybe it will be relevant later in the evening" "i'd need a deus ex machina to beat todd", these help you accept when these things do seemingly "come out of nowhere" later in the scene (and poke cheerful fun at it lol these are fun comics)

a personal fave of mine is the phrase "read the comic sometime" thats repeated in the early volumes at characters who werent there for something. its 4th-wall breaking, its fun, it nicely tells lost readers where to head to without re-dumping exposition, AND it helps keep track of who was where for what scenes … stuff like "when did stacey & ramona become friends??" or "i cant believe this is stacey & neils first meeting!" or "wallace was already introduced to ramona earlier" … its all fun and helps you stay on the ride. i think this is why i would read the comics back to back to back to back and retained very little. its easy to passively read these comics and its not a bad thing! though it is better to actively read them, and take these notes as fun jokes & reminders, and not life boats.

the 4th wall breaks are also great for the side characters having their own lives in the background. there are a lot more time indications in scott pilgrim than i remembered, if youre paying attention i think its really really easy to have a nice timeline in your head. but when stuff is broken to scott its not "i started dating mobile during X month" or "i came out X months ago" its "i started dating mobile during volume 3" and "i came out during volume 5" that way the reader can more easily relate it to the story that was happening at the time- and to keep in mind during a volume reread. its not a writing technique for EVERY comic, but its something that scott pilgrim gets to have BECAUSE its a comic- and unapologetically so! this is not a work that wants to be more novel than graphic to be taken seriously. its a comic, and its silly, and its also a work of art, and you have to respect it on its own terms.

theres also, uhm, ill be quick on this point cause its kind of weird how lesbians/sapphics are handled in the comics. its not BAD but theres clearly a bias towards male homosexuality being fleshed out and lesbianism not so much. but so the start of volume 4 is when kim & knives make out and it really starts this obsession in scott about this thing he cannot tell anyone about but is still thinking about, that prepares for roxies introduction- ramonas ex girlfriend. that i believe is also when wallace first asks if scotts broken out the "L-word" yet and it gives more context to scott assuming its lesbians? and him then going all "why does everyone keep asking me about lesbians!" but it is also kind of weird re: lesbian fetishism (which IS pointed out with scotts weird poster that no one likes but thats it). and all that with ZERO canon lesbians! roxie is pretty bi-coded i would say with her insistance on being "HALF-ninja", but ramona is described as an american ninja in the early volumes so its kind of loose. idk its weird and i like to think julie came out as a lesbian cause stephen & her being a comphet4comphet couple is really good to me

a thing id never noticed before is that julie was suspecting stephen of having views on knives during volume 4? and its why she was so shitty to knives for a while there, and then its "worked out" at the end of the volume. this feeds into the constant fear of cheating during the story, theres of course todd & scott who do cheat, but also more grey areas of relationships. im thinking of ramonas anxieties around lisa, and when scott finds out roxie stayed over at ramona's. about stephen too, his response to julie apologizing for being jealous of knives is very… uncomfortable

"i have nothing to fear!" "right yeah..." surely because hes starting to realize hes gay, and possibly because he's already vaguely started seeing joseph. we dont get more details on his relationships i am not going to accuse him of cheating LOL. i truly dont care. but its an anxiety that comes up again and again whenever relationships are starting to turn sour- "are they cheating?" and having been in my 20s for a little bit yeah i get it. scott not telling ramona about his job- not telling her much of ANYTHING during vol 4- and ramona not sharing much either are also part of this. theres a reason all of this happens in volume 4, and next volume ramona finds out scott cheated on knives with her. loss of intimacy and the breakdown of dialogue is all part of cheating anxieties, whether there is actual cheating or not. "what do i not know? what else are they keeping from me? they dont talk to me but they talk to them? are they cheating on me?"

theres a really neat thing the comics do to show the breakdown of scott and ramona's relationship in volume 5 and its the scene where ramona goes shopping and scott tags along. she spends it not saying anything (until she tells scott she doesnt even like his band) and scott obsessively talking about his comics (X-men!) while she doesnt look particularly interested.

this is the scene where scott breaks up with knives again!!! the roles are reversed, scott is now the one talking about whatever while his girlfriend's unresponsive, and obviously ramona doesn't break up with him here and there, and they dont kiss in a goodwill, but the ressemblance is there. and like with the knives breakup scene, we have a good date variant of this! its their very first date from the first volume where scott does mostly talk about himself but ramona is having fun joking with him. here we are shown their relationship slowly crumbling and it lays the ground for ramona leaving at the end of the volume.

similarly to how scott battles all of ramonas evil exs (himself included), ramona does face all of scott's own exs. its not as spectacular but we see her fight knives in volume 2, then she fights envy in volume 3. we also have her comment on kim that she does like her (same with lisa, who is not strictly an ex but emotionally is treated as such. especially with how scott sleeping over at lisa's is paralleled with roxie sleeping over at ramona's) these are not comments she makes about stephen or julie, for exemple, its specifically women who had a close relationship with him. and uhm ramona also comments on liking wallace who- again- is not STRICLY an ex, but hes also part of that volume 4 cheating anxieties conversation, wallaces incessant flirting, mobile himself jokes (?) about finding wallace in the arms of another man, etc. but most convincingly to ME because we are talking about EXs here is the flashback of wallace inviting himself at scotts house being identical to lisas scene of inviting herself at scotts, scott saying the story of how he ended up living with wallace is "somewhat gay", and the general college flashbacks.

i think this points to scott & wallace having briefly dated in the past, or (because hes paralleled with lisa) having a "what couldve been" relationship where they didnt make anything of it and now the time window's passed and emotionally? kind of feels like an ex. and if anything they ARE ex-roommates lol. this is not a scollace truthing thing, im a firm mobillace guy ok -_- im just saying its there. back to the point of ramona facing scott's exs as well, YES i am including herself in it. her going to the wilderness during vol6 parallels scott going to the countryside, the very place he faces negascott properly. and the way ramona talks when she comes back its easy to see that she did face herself on that trip. & the figurines agree with me that the idea of a negaramona does exist :)

thats more or less all i had in mind, i also feel like i was finally able to properly enjoy the themes of the comics of facing your own shittiness and doing better, of the harms of being stuck in your own head, of never ending up like gideon (who is so attached to his exs that he literally cryogenizes them!) the warning of rewriting your own memories (or at least biased recollections of it) uhm how breakups suck! and how cheating is not always black & white but also fucking sucks !! being out of school (wanting to go back to school?) and looking for jobs- and yes if scotts life had a face i would punch it too its literally unfair how easily everything goes for him on that front, even freeloading with wallace (<- jealous). envys obsession with a guy who is so obviously shitty but who shes been best friends with since they were 11 is also kind of… ooh i get it now…. its yeah. i think they really are comics for being in your 20s, a lot about dating? but its so generally about human relationships and dealing with your baggage, i think it is still relatable without the specific romantic relationship experience.? i love these comics. everyone read scott pilgrim if you havent in a while (or ever!!!!) and try to think a little about it as you read it really is so worthwhile. and if anything theyre insanely funny, and wallace is there!