#thank you. for enabling. some whatever this is

[rosesradio]

in the lukabeth ddlg au does percy know about their ddlg dynamic or does he just know that they're dating. im curious if he ever tried to talk to annabeth about it?

hm...looking back on the prev posts, i kinda just said something along the lines of like "percy wants to beat the shit out of luke (canon & real !!) but doesn't for annabeth's sake" just to get him Out Of The Way, but like...realistically, this boy's fatal flaw is loyalty. he'd destroy the world for his friends. the most in-character thing for percy to do in this scenario would be to fucking kill luke regardless lmao (for which i would support him <33 release my boy from prison for manslaughter he did nothing wrong etc)

i think No One would know about the ddlg dynamic besides luke & annabeth, kind of a "take it to their grave" deal. luke would probably constantly tease annabeth in a way that borders on public display of that dynamic, just to flaunt power over her (of course, he always knows when to step off just before annabeth gets pissed, lest it break the bubble).

i think after the initial "i'm gonna fucking kill this guy" doesn't work on percy's end (it would but let me play in the space), he would try to talk to annabeth. and of course there's a level of self awareness there, but like all people in toxic relationships, sometimes it's a case of "they refuse to wake up with help sometimes they just have to realize on their own". percy would try everything though, every single approach in the book, getting his mom involved, getting chiron involved (someone help chiron lol). no one can help. what's done is done.

of course, unless it's a one-chapter whatever, i like to make sure my darkfics end with some hope at the end. sometimes it's not best for the narrative & i respect that, but also i would like to believe there's hope in the end for all of us. annabeth would not end up with luke forever & always, even in this AU. maybe she doesn't end up with percy either, though i think she'd find a way to wake up in the end

& then there's a last curious thought. ik i said i don't really delve into the percabeth smut of it all, but i'll bite anyways for funsies. i can't help but wonder how the lukabeth & percabeth of it all would correlate. would annabeth have gotten together with luke while...cheating on percy? it's not very well in character for her, though manipulation is a hell of a drug.

jealousy & manipulation & kink are all well & good in this AU, and i can only wonder how percy would react if he knew about the ddlg aspect. would he be disgusted?...jealous? would he wonder where he went wrong? because annabeth never did that sort of thing with him.

luke would probably show off extra in front of percy, ensuring he walks in during the most embarassing situations, eventually driving percy away from the camp luke once welcomed him to...

[rawr-mortgage]

On Crown and Weapons and Fighting

Note/s: So I was speculating about which of the Crown members can actually fight, like who among them is actually good at it, has legit combat knowledge, and is capable of punching someone into the next century, and as a result, this post kinda got out of hand.

I initially meant this to be very chill and casual, but it turns out I have a lot to say and the ideas just ran off on their own, and I had no choice but to follow along to see where it took me.

I doubt I'd be able to make a proper headcanon post like this again soon unless someone suggested another topic, but yeah. Hope this turned out well >:3

Dividers and headers are by the super talented @natimiles ⁠♡⁠♡⁠♡

Content Warning/s: Strong language, mentions of canon-typical violence

Might be controversial, but I think William's more reliant on the use of weapons than his actual combat prowess.

As a noble, I think he learned fencing in his youth, and while he was good at it, I don't think he ever took it seriously until the day he decided to kill his father and establish Crown with Victor afterwards. He learned the intricacies of wielding a blade, and he even started to appreciate the art of swordplay during mock combat sessions with Victor.

Most of the time, though, he doesn't even need to use his sword because he can incapacitate someone easily with his power alone. His preferred method of dishing out punishment is still by ordering someone to take their own life because it serves to prove a point; it's to rob his victims of agency the same way they've done to countless innocents before they had the misfortune of being dealt with by him.

He rarely ever deviates from his trademark “Cut your throat”, but when he's feeling extra devilish and in the mood to prolong a target's suffering and instill the fear of God in them, that's when his extensive knowledge on human anatomy comes in handy. He knows all the places to cut that can effectively kill a person in a matter of seconds, so if he purposely avoids them, there must be a special place in hell waiting for you once he finally decides to send you there.

I have a gun-user Harrison agenda, and this is the perfect time to mention it! That sword that's strapped to his hip at all times is nonexistent to me. He carries a gun, bitch (maybe even two), and he's not afraid to use it. Also, his main weapon being a gun is, in my opinion, a perfect reference to his abandoned dreams of becoming a cop and joining the police force (such a real missed opportunity there cybird). 

I like to imagine he does regular target practice with Roger in the garden. They line up all manners of ceramic and clayware, then use air guns and pellets to avoid accidentally killing someone or themselves. Roger would prefer the target practice to commence at dawn, but he knows he has a better chance of convincing the Queen herself to join him in the flesh than for Harry to be up and functioning during the early hours of the morning.

Roger also probably invites him to go hunting with his dad when it's the season. It's my way of giving Harrison a proxy father figure because God knows he needs a new one, but I also just really like the idea of them being good friends. Just a couple of book-smart intellectuals with a penchant for firearms.

But combat-wise, he's in the same boat as Will in that I don't think he knows anything beyond basic self-defense and how to effectively disarm someone. Like he knows how to throw a punch, sure, but his overall martial prowess isn't anything noteworthy or that impressive, to be honest.

Liam is a bit of a wildcard when it comes to fighting. His greatest strength lies in his ability, which enables him to disappear at will, allowing him to sneak up on enemies and immobilize them even without having to make his presence known.

He can use it from the jump or even in the midst of a scuffle to neutralize a disadvantage in skill or physicality on his part by virtue of having the element of surprise and the unpredictable factor it gives him. Imagine how embarrassing it would be, too, because if he's invisible for most of the fight, it's going to look like you're fighting air and losing.

While I don't think Liam has had any formal martial arts training that would put him a peg above Harry and Will in terms of combat, he's quite difficult to defend against given the no-limit-or-drawbacks-of-any-kind invisibility, not to mention he also moves rather swiftly.

He's light on his feet, has good instincts, and possesses cat-like agility. You'd be hard-pressed not to feel a bit paranoid when you're up against him because he can easily swoop in and go for the kill to stick a knife in your back or slice at your throat, and you wouldn't even be able to brace for it. Although maybe sudden death is more merciful than the unfortunate alternative of being a victim to one of his fits.

Frail Victorian Child™. Bro is an aristocrat with an abysmal appetite. He eats so fucking little, a plant probably consumes more sustenance than him during the course of its much shorter lifespan. Every time he sneezes, the others are probably in awe at how he doesn't disintegrate on the spot.

What combat? This man is fighting to stay alive and not die of starvation and/or dehydration on a daily basis.

With that said, it's my personal headcanon that he probably took up fencing after the doctor incident as a proper way of defending himself in case something similar were to ever happen again.

Despite being constantly at risk of getting blown away by strong winds, he has his moments where the monomania kicks in and the uncharacteristic strength and energy the resulting single-mindedness lends him enables him to accomplish and acquire pretty much anything he sets his sights on (as demonstrated in his route).

I'm just gonna put it out there, this man can't fight. Can't throw a punch, an elbow, a kick—nothing. He can't throw anything, but he's probably very adept at tossing someone's salad.

He doesn't like performing any kind of manual labor because it reminds him of his atrocious childhood. And he harps on Roger for being burly and brutish because one of Roger's hobbies is learning how to beat someone up for fun.

The best he can do is probably bitch slap someone, but even then he's shaking off his hand to get rid of the sting. He's fortunate that his ability is like Will and Elbert's, where he's able to incapacitate someone without expending much effort on his part, because he is not at all inclined to build muscle or learn the art of combat whatsoever.

Can and will punch your lights out; no questions asked. He's been frequenting bars and pubs all his life; it's probably a dream of his to get into a brawl at one of them for any reason at all, but no one's insane enough to pick a fight with him on account of his immense height and intimidating build.

Fun fact: the average height of men during the Victorian era was around 167 cm. Roger's height is 183 cm. Bro is several inches taller than the average English gentleman. Not to mention he's swol as fuck, too. A good deal more muscular than a regular doctor has any right to be.

I'm pretty sure he's capable of killing a man even with just his bare hands. Like just punching someone to death, I'm sure he could do it if prompted, but it's not a level of violence he would ever sink to nor indulge in.

Weapons-wise, I think it's interesting how he's essentially the sharpshooter in Crown despite being one of the few proficient members at hand-to-hand combat. Like it makes sense because he can identify targets at a distance due to his enhanced hearing, so a long-range weapon is a no-brainer. Very practical given his ability, but at the same time, kind of funny because of his poor eyesight. Luckily, that's what the scope is for.

Has demonstrated countless times in canon that he can fight. He's tall and gangly, but swift and agile like an acrobat, and he probably trains with Roger and asks him to give him pointers on top of that.

He's employed by Jude as well as a two-in-one bodyguard/assistant, so I bet he's somewhat motivated to maintain his skills and physicality due to that fact, but I get the sense that he also just really enjoys it.

His natural athleticism gives me the impression of a kid who used to climb up trees in their yard growing up, even though his parents kept telling him not to. I think it's cute to imagine him as a rambunctious kid with a surplus of energy that he had to burn by climbing trees as high as he could and constantly chasing his twin brother around, or else he'd be restless and making his parents lose sleep come nightfall.

Ellis' gentle demeanor actually works to his advantage because it's hard to imagine someone so calm and soft-spoken being able to commit murder so swift and easily at the behest of someone else. Jude could order him to carve someone up like they're cake about to be served at a birthday party, and he'd do it with an air of perfect serenity.

You must have a death wish if you want to square up against this motherfucker. Ellis isn't even necessary, the man is fully capable of winning his own battles. The only reason he has Ellis as a semi-bodyguard is because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to knock someone's teeth in himself.

Like, oh, you have a personal vendetta against him and are looking to settle the score? Yeah, well, so does everybody else; get in line and kindly wait for his assistant to duke it out with you. Very sorry that he can't address your grudge personally; he has places to be and people to extort—I mean solicit.

If you insist on having your grudge satisfied by him and him alone, so be it. Although, truth be told, you might've preferred being handled by his assistant had you an idea of the sheer hell your persistence would be awarded with beforehand. Jude knows how to fight and he's not at all reluctant to get dirty with it.

If you think he's above kicking someone who's already down, you're wrong. If you think he knows when to call it quits and stop to say someone's had enough, you're wrong. If you think lopping off a limb or two just 'cause he can is extreme and twisted and kind of psychotic, you're right! But he doesn't care; this is what you asked for, and he's all too happy to finally silence the buzzing of persistent pests.

Jude is already menacing and dangerous on his own; weapons just multiply his deadliness tenfold. He'd be the type to wear steel-toed boots as his everyday work shoes just to make it hurt all the more for whomever is at the receiving end of his kicks. He enjoys causing pain not only as a result of his Curse, but also because of the cruelty the world has imbued in him. He's looking to repay that hurt to anyone foolish enough to cross him.

Victor is bit of an enigma. He's a weapons enthusiast in canon and has what I assume to be an impressive collection of varying blades and daggers and guns and even unconventional weapons like axes, machetes, and whips. The real question is whether or not he knows how to use all of them or if he's only mastered a select few and is actively working to have the rest down pat.

He doesn't go on missions anymore like he used to when it was just him and Will because it's no longer necessary after acquiring so many new and deployable members, and it's better for him to be able to attend to the Queen's every beck and call as her trusted aide.

But on that front, I like to think that what William lacked in combat prowess, Victor had in spades. Apart from helping Will hone his skills with a sword, Victor taught him how to trade blows, evade punches, and the fastest way of knocking someone flat. It's been many years since Victor joined him on the prowl, but Will is still mindful of his lessons, and he even shares them with the others whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Also, if you missed out on certain events, he has this thing where he touches the back of someone's neck and they immediately crumple to the ground, unconscious. I don't know if that's his special ability or if it's just a neat trick he knows how to do, like the metaphorical button on someone's jaw you can hit in order to make them go cold. Either way, Mister Grim Reaper, sir, please tell us more of your secrets.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are appreciated (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠) ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

[hotchipsauce]

psst pspspsps u should totally talk about grebbymints more ... i am enabling u......

AAAAAA bro….. my dude…. the thing is i always feel crazy talking about them together bc i think like they’ve only publicly interacted like 3 times? LOL (i have watched and documented every interview minty and grebby has appeared in for the leafs/marlies. it’s so bad. me being sick has actually helped me not be as weird about it since i had less screen time in general)

but even then me and @tufzy just constructed this whole separate reality in our heads for months about how like they prob got closer after getting called up and minty is the only familiar guy for grebby there due to being on the marlies together + no russian player on the leafs to fall back on for help so grebby is just sticking to minty’s side the whole time, and minty even tho he’s a lil popular with the leaf boys he still is looking out for his linemate. even when they get sent down they’re still drawn to each other out of habit. but i’m always like second guessing like wow this is pure delusion like maybe they don’t even fuck with each other like that it’s just coworker friendliness this rpf shit is truly a disease fr fr 🙏

and then the videos started dropping. they’re goofing off and pushing each other around during sewer ball. and then i see a single frame of minty next to grebs during the one rare tiktok that he shows up in. and the delusion starts anew

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[limerlove]

A BOUQUET OF GREED, A COUNTRY GIRL WITH NEEDS

pairing. bullrider!abby x fem!reader

eighteen+, minors dni. cowgirl!abby essentially, this is smut with the tiniest amount of plot, cheating (don't cheat on your partner y'all), strap!sex, munchcity, some excessive profanity.

“If your girlfriend could ride a bull this good, maybe she would actually beat me.” With her thick accent cutting through, not moving an inch, Abby is cemented in her ego.

Before tonight, she would believe the blazing heat swarming in your eyes had been a figment of her imagination. But then you’re dragging her to the back seat of her truck.

It’s a lucky break. Abby’s charm, her stroke of cockiness enabling her to leave a baby pink strap in her glove compartment.

An arrogant goddess for you to tame but seems all she’s doing is crushing you. Pleasing you. Doing everything in her power to have this moment ricochet in an everlasting timeline, one you’ll be forced to keep tucked away in your mind.

A sultry secret for the sinners to guard.

“Abs—” With a single glance, you warn her through accusatory eyes but she draws your sensitive and perked nipple in her mouth, flicking her tongue as she massages the other.

Intense cries escalate, a needy ache settling over you — a scratch you can’t reach — and she’s enjoying the fuck out of you bouncing on her cock.

Devious blue eyes look through blonde eyelashes, her signature hat on your pretty head. Even if you aren’t hers, you sure do look like it. All it took was some pretty words flying out of her mouth and your girl steaming after a loss to send you in the right direction.

“Keep ridin’, darling. You wanna be my cowgirl?” Abby shifts her hips upwards, thank fuck, but she gives you no time to adjust.

You nod, giving your supple compliance.

“Then enjoy the ride, sweetheart.”

With a firm hand on your ass, she guides your hips to meet the push the prized object inside of you, unable to stop yourself — all you can offer is clear submission.

“Oh fuck, Abbbyyyy, it’s—”

Eyes rolling into the back of your head as she fucks up into you vigorously, each moment she keeps on her mind, committing to a memory she never wishes to forget.

Each glide of her cock feels like an angel’s touch christening her swollen, puffy lips to perfection. There’s too much to answer for but her stupid southern accent wants to punish you further.

“Pretty slut you are. An even prettier angel just begging to be fucked right.” You can’t help but whimper in downright agony, your clit being abused isn’t enough. Desperately you need her to fuck you for the rest of your life.

Even so, an eternity of her lips, that mouth, these hypnotic hips encased in godly strength — it’s not enough. Unless you can have her whenever your sin feels the desire to reach, it can’t be.

“Need you, baby. Please. Don’t stop.” Whatever pride you were so desperate to cling onto evaporates like dandelions in the spring breeze.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, sweet girl.” Abby smirks like she’s the best fuck you’ve ever had. The only thing you despise more is how true the statement rings.

Like a rooster before sunrise, you’re not sure what’s louder right now. You or the feathered friend.

“I wanna come, Abby. I-I’m so f-fucking close.” You desperately plead, as you slam yourself on her, using every bit of it to your advantage. There’s nothing more you want, a release to forget it all. The guilt floods your soul but she splits you like the red sea. 

Even god could forgive this. 

“Then tell me who the best bull rider is and I’ll get you there.”

“I think I’m handling the bull quite nicely. Maybe I’m better than you.”

“How about with a little pressure?” Abby questions before she’s pushing her thumb inside your mouth. A velvet tongue swirls, pulling off with a pop, when your drool glides to your chin.

Intricate, soft and full — there’s harmony in the way she circles your clit. “You’re so much better, god baby, no one has fucked me like this. Ever.”

It’s meant to be a mumble. A thought to be trapped in the forefront of your mind. But it releases out in the wild and she relishes every word. Caging your sinful moans in her lips, a lock only she can break, you come completely undone.

Bucking like a wild horse being broken for the first time, just in time for the show.

“Don’t be shy now, pretty girl, let me hear you. You’re my fucking girl, my pussy to fuck — my cock making this slutty cunt spill.”

Abby keen on being unforgettable, slaps yours ass as she fucks you through the highest of pleasure. Until shakes take over your body as you cling onto her frame.

For a moment, just when you think you’re free, when you’ve given all you have to offer. Abby hasn’t quite had her fill. Laying you out where you’re comfortable, pushing your leg up to your chest, flattening her tongue at the head of the rose, watching as each petal begins to blossom. 

“You don’t have to—”

Abby moans your name and wages wars with each stroke of her tongue. The sweetest pussy she’s ever tasted. It reminds of her strawberry syrup, craving for your taste to stain the muscle of her tongue with the cries that shiver in the back of your throat. 

Weaving your hands in her golden roots, you push her into where she desires to be, head first into the thick of you accepting home. Flourishing as ever, she calls for you to return home — one you never knew you had to begin with. 

A destiny of intervention. 

Fuck, she’s practically made for it.

She consumes like a woman starved. As if Abby has thought of nothing else but this moment in weeks. You in her bright red chevy pickup, a long white stripe down the middle, each piece of stainless steel polished to perfection. A gem in her prized possession is a homecoming of some sort, one she forced by the will of her hand. 

But she’s always been the greedy type. Dying to eat more than her serving, taking you right off of someone else’s plate.

Never has she been shy to become the sinister succubus lingering in the shadows, praying to exploit the humming tucked in your finely laced panties that lie ripped on the floorboard. 

Opening her eyes and looking up to get a glance. You’re right there with her, hanging on her every move. Much to your surprise, she leans forward, chin resting on your soft stomach as you’re petrified. 

With fear? With love? Who’s to say what’s worse.

It’s a small saying, one you’ve heard the minute you call this small corner of the world your home — a devotion of the devil marks the sins of a fallen angel — some notion of superiority to keep satanic measures distant from the pure hearted. 

There was warning of this selfishness, the sinful heart and how it flourishes at the bottomless pit of dead roses, the light so hard to reach when the devil splits you apart for her pleasure alone.

A bouquet of greed will only bring you closer to her heart. Hands reach for the vines, pulling the petal from stem.

One by one, the immoralities of a fallen angel become righteous discipleship. Abby reaches for your hand and she smooths her fingers over a fluttering cunt. Every exquisite fold that belongs to her, and with a jerk of your hips, you fall into her command. 

“You’re gonna call her.” Abby speaks softly, her honey-soaked spills over. When she talks like this, you’ll do anything she asks. “And you’ll try not to moan my name when you talk to her but you know what’s going to happen, darling?”

“What?” A slap to your pussy sends you shaking in desperate despair.

“I’m not stopping until you do.”

[rebouks]

Keeping Lag to a Minimum...

I was chatting about a few things I do to combat lag over on discord and realised I do quite a bit of maintenance to reduce lag/load times. I decided to write em all down and before I knew it, I had a big ol' list. Here's hoping it helps!

Save/File Tips:

Clear your caches (located in the same spot as your mod folder fyi) I usually delete the onlinethumbnailcache, avatarcache and localthumbcache caches every time I exit the game, the main one to delete regularly is the localthumbcache file, they're just temporary files but it can get pretty big after a while.. if you're having any mod issues, particularly ui ones, it's always worth deleting that to see if it helps.

Remove any saves you're not using from your saves folder, and keep an eye on save file sizes. In my experience, any saves over around 30-40mb start to get a bit laggy. Things that bump this size up are the amount of townies in game and the amount of lots/objects in the world.

Regarding the above point, I regularly bulldoze lots I don't need anymore, just to save the game from having to cope with extra shit to load in the background and reduce save file bloat.

Similarly, I delete a lot of unnecessary townies. Also, try to keep the amount of outfits on townies to a minimum, ain't no townie need four swimsuit outfits, the game will thank you..

If you have cheats enabled you can usually shift-click/delete object on things like random coffee cups or stray cupcakes sims foolishly drop around the world (or eat em.. whatever tickles ur pickle) just get rid!

Whilst we're keeping objects in game to a minimum.. I try to clear sims inventories now and then, including townies. You can do this via mccc even if you're not currently playing that household by heading to MC Cleaner -> Sell Sim Inventory/Sell Household Inventory. RANDOM LUMPS OF CLAY BEGONE!

Think of a save file like a lot.. the more objects in it, the laggier it gets! Try your best to remove anything or anyone unnecessary where you can.

Hit "Save As" instead of "Save" now and then - the more you overwrite a save, the more chance it has of going wonky, treat your game to a fresh one now and then and remove the old one from your saves folder (maybe don't delete it right away in case you wanna roll back, keep it somewhere safe).

If you can (although ik it can be a pain) set up a new/fresh save, you'd be surprised how bogged down old ones can get! For legacy players, it's usually best to do this whenever you have a small family to save yourself some pain, since you can just save the household and take em to a new save (you will lose sims inventories/household inventories/relationships with sims outside the household tho so beware! Pictures/other collectables can be saved to a lot however, and you can always cheat back relationship bits etc.. bit of a last resort but new saves are shiny and fast!)

Make sure your Screenshots/Video folders are empty - move em somewhere else, it works, trust me. If you have a lot of custom music installed try n' clear some of those out too.. the smaller that Sims 4 directory is, the better.

Delete any last exceptions/last crashes (same spot as your mod folder again) you don't need em unless you're planning to upload em somewhere for help.

Settings Etc:

If you get a bad lag spike, opening the main menu and/or saving can randomly stop this. If it doesn't, try exiting the game, clearing your localthumbcache and restarting.

Clearing all notifications from the game panel can also help.

If you can, close all other apps and background apps you don't need whilst playing, ts4 is super memory hungry so it can definitely help.

The GraphicsRules Override file by Simp4Sims can reduce lag/latency and make your game look a little better in the process!

Srslysims Simulation Lag Fix mod can help reduce lag too (if you've altered the game speed via mccc tho, don't use this unless you plan on resetting it to default).

If you aren't keen on, or barely use a pack, consider disabling it.

Not ideal, especially for those of us taking screenshots, but lowering the graphics settings whilst playing definitely helps.

If you use re/g-shade, consider switching it off whilst playing and only turn it on for screenshots.

A clean and tidy pc/laptop runs better in general. Remove anything you're not using/don't need anymore to free up space, remove temp files, clean up your folders now and again etc etc.. especially that dreaded mod folder, speaking of...

Managing Mods:

SORT OUT YOUR MODS FOLDER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.. skdsjdjs it doesn't have to be immaculate but at the very least try n' clear it out now n' then. Also try to separate your script mods/overrides from the rest, patch days don't need to be so stressful ;-;

Personally, I don't merge my mods; if something breaks it's much harder to pinpoint! It makes it easier to find/delete specific mods too.. and let's face it, there's usually one or two items in that set you could do without lmaooo.. also, don't think it helps much tbh! Yeah you could say the game doesn't have to work as hard to load merged files but that's debatable, it's still the same amount of items/polys at the end of the day ¯\(°_o)/¯

If you like merging files and/or see results from doing so, you can merge stuff you definitely know you're never getting rid of, especially CAS/BB stuff.. but steer clear of merging gameplay/script mods! If a merged file seems to be the culprit when using the 50/50 method, try unmerging it and 50/50ing it again! You might not need to get rid of everything if something's borked.

Bulk Rename Utility can be used to remove all spaces and special characters from your mod files, the game doesn't particularly like loading those so it'll thank you.

The Sims 4 Mod Manager is a great way to sort through your mods, you can easily see, move and delete files from here (not great for build/buy, poses etc as thumbnails are usually missing, but great for CAS stuff). An extra hint with this that I've noticed is that if any of my mods get renamed with [D1] at the beginning after looking through them via the mod manager, it means it's a duplicate file so you can get rid.

I also use the Sims 4 Tray Importer to help me sort through mods. Simply save a sim/lot with any cc you don't want and find it in the importer, you can then go through all the cc in the cc tab and delete/sort it (I also use this to sort cc if a bunch has the wrong tags etc, makes it easier to find in my folders by saving em to a lot or w/e - it also spots duplicates which is handy).

It's a ballache, but the 50/50 method is tried and tested if you're having issues.

I like to keep an abandoned cc folder tucked away somewhere, that way you can remove mods willy nilly without stressing about losing them. If you change your mind, you can always grab it back!

[earthtooz]

earth i need to catch up on ur ratio fics (i read some of flower one and i ate that shit up omg) because now the thought of seething annoying veritas being all angry whenever you even look at someone else infests my mind like an annoying worm. i hope you know this is what those fics do to me

x : EQUILIBRIUM : *+ﾟ

in which: ratio navigates through the perplexities of pining after you.

warnings: fluff, 1.6k words, intelligentsia guild!gn!reader is kind of a social butterfly and talkative, ratio is so pathetic i love him T^T, alcohol, aventurine feature! my writing isn't the best for this one i apologise :,D

a/n: thank u for the ask mhie!! i wanted to say that you enabled me perfectly because ever since his release, i've only ever thought about this one scenario where he's staring at reader from afar and absolutely seething because he's not the one talking to them xD sorry for taking so long omfg and im sorry for turning this into a fic, i just saw my opportunity and lunged at it like an animal rawr

Jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio.

He knows of them, understands the inner workings and philosophical aptitude of both, knowing that they lead man down irrational paths. Yet, for all his years, he has not felt the bitterness of jealousy and envy squeeze him, cannot fathom why one cannot control their feelings and maintain modesty. 

Perhaps, the root of it was whatever Ratio wanted, he received. The only thing he has ever craved is knowledge, and it is available for him with the flick of a page, absorbing even the most complex of theories with ease. Conceptual, mathematical, scientific- not a single school of thought has hidden itself from his vast mind, proven by the many PhDs he has with his name.

Everything fickle that anyone could ever crave has long been his. 

Envious over someone else’s wealth? Money comes and goes, and merely serves as a medium of exchange. As long as he has enough to live comfortably, then he is content. Having too much of one thing can often result in a bottomless pit of wanting more, and material good was perhaps the most evil of all.

Jealous over someone else’s beauty? Compliments and adoration are not an unfamiliar concept to him; one glance at what’s under that stone mask will have others fawning over him instantly. He claims the mask is to protect him from idiots, but perhaps it also serves to shield others from the walking sculpture that is the Veritas Ratio, sharp features and toned body, there is nothing undesirable about him.

In conclusion, jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio. Until he met you.

A fellow member of the Intelligentsia Guild but in another department, you too are a favoured delegate of the IPC, frequently attending the same events and trips as him. Thus, it was only natural that you’d become acquainted and that he’d grow to respect you, hearing about your achievements and dedications as an academic. What was unnatural, however, was the palpitations of his heart, weakness in his knees, paired with an overwhelming excitement to see you.

He’s no fool. These sensations were all symptoms of romantic attraction, but you were a variable uncounted for in the distribution of his life, and he was not ready for an outlier so powerful that it completely ‘skewed’ him over.  

Now, he laments in the corner of champagne parties meant for socialites. He is no lover of mundane interaction but as his contract with the IPC, he comes as a representative of the Intelligentsia Guild. 

These formal events always drained the life out of him, needing him to discard his everyday, flowey, carefree attire for a constraining suit, conforming him into the regular majority. 

He raises the glass of champagne to his lips and takes a small sip, the liquor serves as lubricant to the throat. The smooth finish of the drink is exactly what he needs; talking about the same subject again and again becomes exhausting, and even though it is in his role criteria, Ratio cannot wait to leave.

But he won’t, because he hasn’t seen you yet. 

Glancing around the room for the upteemth time this evening, you still have not entered his line of sight, and he leans against the bar in disappointment.

“Oh, why the long face, Ratio?” A mischievous voice coos from beside him. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Spare me your sentiments, gambler,” Ratio spits back.

“As you wish. Not enjoying the party?”

“If you have something you wish to say then please, spare me the pleasantries.”

Aventurine laughs, all boisterous and extravagant, gold jewelry clicking against each other, as if coming alive to match his jovialness. He really is a personified headache. “You’re looking for someone, aren’t you?”

The scholar tenses, muscles tugging at the stiff fabric of his blazer, but that micro action was enough of an answer for Aventurine.

A gloved hand points up to the mezzanine of the grand hall. Ratio spots you, leaning against the railing whilst conversing with another man, one briefly talked to earlier. If he didn’t like him before, then he certainly didn’t now.

Handsome face turning into a small scowl, it’s almost as if you feel the intensity of a certain, golden stare, causing you to turn around and find the source, eyes eventually landing on the figures of a coworker or two. A brief smile graces your face before you turn around again, turning your back on the two onlookers.

Ratio loathes what he sees, and something within him yearns to be the only man you look at, causing an ugly, green sensation to brew within him; a concoction that can only be labelled as ‘jealousy’.

He just cannot figure out what other men have that he doesn’t; what is making him secondary in your heart? Why do you give these... idiots the time of day when you could be with him- talking to him?

It's all too perplexing, you make him perplexed.

“Well, go on, doctor,” Aventurine prompts. “Place your bets before it’s too late.” 

The purple-haired sighs, pushing himself off the bar. His feet take him to you, up the velvet-carpeted stairs. His gaze never strays from you, ensuring you stay within his line of sight and eventually, he stops right behind you, acting as a looming shadow.

His gaze is cold, hoping to pierce through your conversation partner so he can finally cower away and make room for Ratio.

“Doctor!” You exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

Taking a hint, the stranger finally begins to peel himself away. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/n. I hope this won’t be our last conversation.”

“Likewise, have a lovely evening,” you farewell him with a small smile as the other party turns and eventually disappears from sight.

Finally. Triumph and victory settles in Ratio’s chest when your attention is directed solely at him, but you look up at him with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

“I swore I saw you downstairs moments ago, how did you get up here so fast?”

“I simply walked a normal pace, is that so abnormal?”

“I suppose not,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Veritas allows himself a glance over of your outfit, admiring you. “Have you talked to anyone interesting?”

You are by far the most interesting part of the evening, he thinks.

“Hardly,” he murmurs. 

“My guess is that you’d prefer to be grading student papers?” You muse, leaning in closer.

His heartbeat spikes. “Well, that is hard to say. Which would you prefer?”

“As much as I love my students, I need a break from the same thesis statements regurgitated in different formats. I’d rather be here.”

“Then that is my answer too.”

You give him a look that says ‘really?’, clearly not believing his aloof statement. Truthfully, he would rather be here because here is where you are, and he’d like a few moments with you before returning to the gloominess of his office. The hour hand is only at 11, what’s the rush?

Then, your eyes flicker to his neckline and they widen briefly, as if finding an issue with his tuxedo. “Hold still,” you command, hands coming up to rest on his sturdy chest.

You’re fixing his tie, he realises, feeling the fabric tighten ever so slightly as you adjust it. When you’re done, you flatten out the material with a satisfied smile, running your hands casually over his chest, and he hopes you cannot feel his heart jump. How do you touch him so easily, as if it means nothing?

“It was crooked,” you explain, “now you are looking as sharp as ever, Doc.”

“Thank you,” is the best thing he can sputter out.

“No problem, we need to have our genius looking proper at all times!”

Ratio is too stunned to speak, he fears that if he tried, whatever leaves his mouth will result in a various garbles and attempts at sentences.

Thankfully, you haven’t run out of words to say. “Oh, I have yet to get a drink! Will you accompany me? I could go for some refreshments right now.”

He nods and extends an arm for you to hold, and you happily accept it, holding onto his bicep as you ramble on about a conversation exchanged earlier in the night. If you were anyone else, he would not have cared in the slightest, but instead, he listens intently, taking slow and measured steps downstairs so you are comfortable.

In this bubble, the esteemed scholar is content. With you so close, it feels as if everything has clicked into place, like the scales of fate have finally balanced and equilibrium has been achieved. He could listen to you forever.

Unfortunately, all good things don’t last, because a face Ratio doesn’t recognise approaches you, hand resting on your shoulder. Judging from the manner of which they address and talk to you, you are close, and you don’t shrug them off. Next thing he knows, you’re ripped away from him, dragged into the sea of people.

You spare him a glance over your shoulder, as if apologising for the sudden disruption.

Still, he sighs, left behind with nothing but fervent symptoms of love clinging to his being, squeezing him for all he is.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[fairestwriting]

HI omg I love ur writing sm!! Also sorry im new to tumblr so im sorry if this is incorrect u can ignore it :)

I wanted to know if I could request Jamil, Azul and Leona with an S/O that barely sleeps because they stay up working.

Thank u sm!! :D

in celebration of me surviving my exams…… felt thematically appropriate to do this one (that i apparently had in my drafts for a while????

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s one of those things he doesn’t really get. He knows you’re a hardworking person since well before you two start dating, and despite his own disillusionment on the matter… Yeah, he does admire it. You have more drive by yourself than most Savanaclaw students combined, he can’t say it’s not impressive in a way. But, the way you just give up rest time is…

”Did you really pull an all nighter for that?” He asks the first time he notices it, following a day where you’d been talking all the time about this one assignment. It comes out sounding very much like a joke, and a mean one at that… That’s not really what his intention was, his expression falters when you frown at it. Not sure how to follow it up.

He understands that your work is important to you, and he respects you too much to get aggressive over it, obviously, but… really, he can’t find this anything other than ridiculous. Is it even worth that much effort? What are you gaining from this? He doesn’t openly ask you the questions, Leona knows how biased he is when it comes to the topic. And, again, how important it is to you.

Settles for pestering you to nap with him, while he can’t wrap his head around how to approach the topic in a serious way. ”Come on. You turned it in, now you better get some sleep before you keel over.” He comes up to you whenever he finds out you’re done with your work, then straight up drags you off to bed. Yours or his, just whichever one is closest. And it *is* hard to resist falling asleep, when you’re already so tired, and everything is so cozy and warm… so his plan does work. And he’s pretty happy it does.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

No judgement, he’s done the same thing before. He kind of relates to it, to be honest. Maybe even a little too much— Maybe, so much that he’s a little bit of an enabler, at first. Though, of course, that’s not his intention at all. It just happens that he has similar habits.

It’s all lighthearted in the beginning. ”You didn’t get much sleep, did you? Not that I’m that much better off.” He jokes on some days, and asks if you want to come to the Lounge to get coffee or tea later. He asks you to let him know when you take your breaks when you’re working late, so you can commiserate over text or help each other or even just have a better spent few minutes.

He feels like he understands, whatever you reason for doing it all is. Even if it’s a lot different from his own, he still feels some level of kinship. Because you’re in it together, right? You don’t have to act like you’re not tired around him, he doesn’t have to act like he’s not tired around you. It’s comforting.

…It is also worrying after a while, though. There’s something about seeing your own bad habits reflected on loved ones that really gets to people, and Azul certainly isn’t immune to that. The texts during your shared breaks start turning much more caring, reminders for you to eat and drink water and at least not skip those breaks — Because he knows he probably won’t be able to convince you to just stop immediately. He knows it wouldn’t work with him, at least, and maybe he’s projecting a little. But it makes sense to him. And if you won’t take him up on his offer to call it a night yet, then he’ll just work with what he has. As long as it makes you feel a little bit better in the morning.

𐙚 Jamil Viper

Your hardworking nature is one of the things Jamil admires about you, maybe even one of the things that initially drew him to you — Especially considering how far you’re willing to take it. He does know that it’s not something to blindly admire, because, of course, there should be a limit to how much of yourself you’re willing to sacrifice for the sake of… excelling? Is that your reason to do it?

When he starts to see just how much sleep you’re skipping on, that dies down a bit. ”Not that I don’t think you’re doing a good job, but do you really have to stay up so late for this?” He questions you when it starts to seem like too much. It’s not that he changes his mind completely, just…

He finds himself conflicted on the topic, a bit similarly to Leona. A part of him wonders if you’re really doing this out of your volition, if there’s something that’s compelling you to be so willing to disregard your own health. Jamil will find himself wondering how to deal with that possible something, whether it’s your own thoughts tormenting you, or some form of outside force. Both options are pretty equally serious to him.

And Jamil isn’t really the most straightforward person out there, but… he really sees no way out of this other than directly asking you about it. You’ve been doing enough, more than enough, so why did you keep up with this awful routine? He’s not willing to argue on how damaging it is, he can see how vacant and honestly weak you look sometimes. And he doesn’t want that to continue, he wants to get to the bottom of the issue so it doesn’t have to continue anymore. Of course, he’s not so naive that he thinks he’ll totally change your mind with just one conversation, and if there’s really some outside force pressuring you, it’s even more complicated, but that’s not really the point— Before anything else, he wants you to know that you’re doing well, that he cares, and that he wants to help however he can.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[catscidr]

// the fatui's alcohol tolerance and drinking habits //  

i. note — after writing this post i started thinking about how the other harbingers would tolerate alcohol and then.... but this is also because of a lovely commenter on ao3, thank u pookie for enabling me ♡ ii. includes — all of the harbingers + pierro and the tsaritsa. gn!reader iii. cw — not proofread, alcohol, various fuckery and headcanons. crack. that's it iv. wc — 1,2k

丑角/Pierro, The director. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.   -> habits: has an entire wine cellar in the zapolyarny palace and owns a vineyard southern of snezhnaya. one of his hobbies consist of wine-testing; he’s the kind of person to cleanse his palate with a small sip that he swooshes in his mouth, then swirls his glass to observe the coat, sniffs the wine, takes another sip- you get it. if you asked, he would recommend you a wine based on your taste. you want something sweet but not dry? try dessert wines. want something a little more on the bitter side? get yourself a malbec from argentina. 

he hates anything that isn’t wine. don’t even try to give him a beer, he’ll look down at you with the most vicious glare you’ll feel sorry for being born. 

队长 /Il Capitano, The first. 

-> tolerance: 10/10, very high.  -> habits: doesn’t see the point of drinking so he never has a glass in his hands from his own volition. if he’s drinking it’s either because some coworkers managed to get him to come out for drinks, because he caught one of his agents drinking on the job and decided to have a drink as well, or because you convinced him to drink with you. 

his drink of choice is literally just any hard liquor, he doesn’t really care for taste. everyone is under the impression that he can’t get drunk, but some people just take it as an invitation to try to get him shitfaced (it never works out). 

博士/Il Dottore, The second. 

-> tolerance: 3/10, very low.  -> habits: never drinks and doesn’t see the point in it anyways, because it’ll only hinder his cognitive functions (you tried convincing him that he can get different perspectives that way. you were swiftly rewarded with a flick on the forehead). on top of that, he just can’t really handle alcohol so why purposely leave himself vulnerable like that. he didn’t care enough to give himself a higher tolerance for it when he modified his body, apparently. would probably be the designated driver if he went out to a bar (if he were invited in the first place. if he accepted the invitation, second.) 

the kind of person to get weirdly tipsy after two white claws. 

少女/Columbina, The third. 

-> tolerance: ?/10. What.  -> habits: o̴̻̒f̴̭͋f̵̣͝ė̵͎r̴̻̄ĭ̵̙ñ̶̥g̸͙͋ ̵̦͆ḫ̸̏e̷̺̊r̶̳̈́ ̴͖̓ä̷͖ ̷͓͆d̴̜̆r̴̡̄i̷̪͝n̵͕͂k̵̠̄ ̴͈̈́ŵ̵̭ȉ̶̺l̸̩̃l̵̲̈́ ̵͖͝ö̸̪n̸̘͝l̸̺̈ỹ̷̹ ̴͑͜ṡ̸̞p̵̪͆e̶͈̊l̵͈͌l̶̜͗ ̵̣̌y̵̢͒ŏ̴͔u̴̹͐ŗ̶̀ ̶͎̈d̶̥͑ö̷̧o̶͓̕m̵̘̃.̷̡̽ ̵͙̐ý̴̟o̸̻͝u̵̳͘ ̶̙́s̴̠̿h̶̡͋a̴̫͊l̶̮̾l̷̳̃ ̷͓͝n̶͕͝o̶̢̓ț̵̏ ̶̞͋w̷̹͝i̶̦̚ṫ̴̪n̸̖̉e̶̢͝s̸̝̕s̸͉͒ ̵̗̈́h̸͜͝ě̵̝r̷͙̉ ̶̭̃h̵͍͒o̶̠̅l̸̗͂i̴̞̕n̷͚̓ẽ̴͙s̵̙̀s̵̖̄ ̷̟͐ć̵͈ó̴̭n̴̙̾s̶̠͋ũ̷̙m̷̬̈́ì̷ͅn̶̯͛g̸̯̔ ̴̨͝t̶͙̕h̴̢͝e̵͔̋ ̵̖̀d̵̖͛ë̷͖́v̵̯͂ii̵͖̿q̵̯̽ŭ̴̺o̶͖̔r̵̠̒.̶̺͒ ̵̙͘l̵͑͜e̸̖͗a̷̞͝v̷̉ͅe̵̮̕ ̸̦̎h̸̩̎e̴̪̐r̸̰̀ ̷̩͠b̷̛̥ĕ̸ͅ ̸̪͒e̴̜͂l̸͖̄s̴͖̆ẽ̷̝ ̸̘͘y̸̹̋ô̴̺ṷ̷̓r̸̭̈́ ̸̜̅l̶͖̾i̵͇͘f̵͉̔e̵̜̚s̷̖̏p̴̫̈́ä̷̬́n̷͔͌ ̴̰̑w̵͝ͅȋ̶̫l̶̛̯ḷ̸͒ ̸̡̊s̷̹͠h̶̭͋o̶̹͆r̵̮͂t̵̥̽é̴̡ṉ̷͌ ̶͕̑ĉ̸̰ǫ̶̈́n̶̔͜s̸̺̃i̷͌͜d̸͚̂e̵̺͊r̸̺̄ą̸̆b̷̲͘ḻ̸̎y̶̠͂.̴̣̉ 

in her free time, she likes to practice her bartending skills, like making fresh piña coladas! 

仆人/Arlecchino, The fourth. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.  -> habits: likes to unwind with a glass of wine in her office while overlooking a multitude of paperwork. never drinks enough to get tipsy, but she could if she were surrounded by the right company...? if she wanted to, she could probably enter a drinking competition and win, though. whatever that means 

has let some children of the house of the hearth try wine. finds the grimaces they pull after a sip very amusing 

公鸡/Pulcinella, The fifth. 

-> tolerance: 6/10, moderate.  -> habits: the kind of man to drink wine with his meals, but he won’t have more than one and a half—two if he’s feeling particularly pent up. his tolerance isn’t that good because of his weight, unsurprisingly.  he doesn’t get invited to go out for drinks because he always ends up indulging just a bit too much. he then acts like a disappointed dad to everyone in the vicinity.

0/10 don’t bring him to a bar unless you want to be scolded for breathing.

国崩/Scaramouche, The sixth. 

-> tolerance: 4/10, low.  -> habits: hates alcohol but is weirdly competitive when it comes to it, if he’s with the right people. sort of. although alcohol doesn’t affect him in the same way it does regular people, it still makes him feel gross enough to not want to be near it. if he had to pick a drink it would be something like an aperol spritz. he’d wait like thirty minutes before drinking it, letting the bubbles fizz out a bit. hates the “taste” of carbonation with a passion.

don’t even try to get him to try give him a beer, he’ll turn it into a molotov cocktail 

木偶/Sandrone, The seventh. 

-> tolerance: 4/10, low.  -> habits: similar to il dottore, she hates drinking because it impairs her genius mind, but she’ll go out if only to make fun of drunk people (it rarely ever happens anyways). if she’s stuck with a drink in her hands for some reason, she’ll make the dapper ruin guard that’s at her side dispose of it for her. 

will it literally throw it away or will it dispose of it in a less destructive way? don’t stick around to find out. 

淑女/La Signora, The eighth. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.  -> habits: similar to arlecchino, she enjoys a good red wine occasionally. the only difference is that she needs to have it while bathing in the most expensive bath salts accompanied by so many candles it would be a hazard for her lungs. the queen of being a diva, has perfected the art of swirling wine in a glass while listening to jazzy music. 

absolutely adores dandelion wine; she always buys crates upon crates despite the ridiculous import fees. has one from so long ago you’re surprised the bottle hasn’t disintegrated yet—the name Rostam is engraved into it. 

富人/Pantalone, The ninth. 

-> tolerance: 7/10, moderate.  -> habits: probably the only normal one out of the bunch (which says a lot). whenever he drinks he always ends up tipsy, and when he’s tipsy, that façade he wears crumbles at the speed of light. gone are the strained fake smiles for politeness’ sake, in are the loud, angry rants about annoying clients. he won’t stop until his voice starts straining from usage. 

his go-to drink is literally whatever expensive wine he can get his hands on; he’ll drink with pierro and analyze wines, on occasion. don’t join them, you’ll die of boredom. 

公子/Tartaglia, The eleventh. 

-> tolerance: 9/10, very high. Debatable.  -> habits: you wouldn’t believe that he can handle alcohol better than most people because every time he drinks, he always gets shitfaced. he’ll insist he’s just testing his limits and building a higher tolerance. don’t bring him out for drinks with il capitano, he’ll inhale 5 shots of fire water in a couple of minutes to “convince” the first that he’s strong. it never works. 

probably the best person to go to a bar with, if you manage to go on a day where he didn’t wake up with the urge to get so stupidly plastered that he’ll try to fight every single man in the building. don’t let him try to show off, there aren’t many bars left that haven’t banned him yet. 

Царица , The Tsaritsa. 

-> tolerance: ?/10. What²  -> habits: ṯ̵̿ḧ̸̤́i̷̹͊s̴̠͐ ̷̧̍i̵̦͝ṡ̴̼ ̵̪͛ä̶̙́n̵͙͆ ̴͆ͅȃ̶͓s̵̜̅s̴̫̀a̵͑ͅs̵̡̓s̷͇̈́í̷̹n̷͕͠a̷̛̱ṱ̴͘i̷̡̕ō̴̻ń̷ͅ ̶͍̃a̵̧͝ṭ̶͝t̶̮̏e̴͉͑m̵̮̈p̵̰̕t̶̼̔.̸̯͆ ̵̗̔y̵̖͝ó̶̡u̶͇͑ ̵̜͌ẁ̶̘ï̵̢l̶̥̈l̶̲͐ ̴̩̔b̴̪͋e̸͎͌ ̷̲̑p̷̲̋r̴̦͐o̷̙͐m̵̟͝p̴͔͛t̷͔̂l̶̪̏y̶̖͂ ̶͊ͅd̵͉̓ỉ̵͔s̵̩̕p̴͖͐o̶͈͘s̵͌ͅḛ̴͂d̶̺̊ ̴̯̓ơ̵̺f̶̠́ ̵̈́͜a̴͙̎t̵̠͋ ̵̲̈ō̵͉n̴̨̒c̸̭͛ê̵͎.̶͓͘ ̵͇̃y̷̡̆ő̵͍ű̸̮ ̸̙͌c̶͈̔ȧ̷̳n̴͍̎ṅ̵͖ŏ̷̪t̵͉͝ ̸̩̇r̷͈̈́u̷͍͝n̷͔̿.̵̮͘ ̷͕̈́w̸̼̄h̴̥̏ý̵̘ ̷͇̀d̶͉̋ii̷̭̎n̶͙̎k̷̢̀ ̵̢̐c̷̣̀o̴͖̍ḿ̵̹i̵̥͘n̵̲̈g̸̫̒ ̵̠̏iͅií̷͎ť̴̻t̷̛̠y̴̟͝ ̴͖̑c̶͔̎o̴̮̽r̷̬̐ñ̴͖e̶͙͒ŕ̵̥ ̴͈̾s̶̙͊t̶̛̫ò̸̲r̶̺͊e̶̮͆ ̶̣̃b̷̰͘ḙ̴͘e̸̖̕ṛ̸̏ ̵̖̓ẃ̷̞a̷͕͐s̶̳͆ ̵̘̾a̶͔̓ ̵̣͛g̴̰͐o̴͕̊o̵̲̾d̸̦̔ ̴͓͗i 

drinks wine with la signora and arlecchino sometimes! their girls' nights only happen once in a blue moon and she doesn’t drink much, but she enjoys the slight buzz from a good red wine nonetheless. 

[okiedokrie]

Dress

Summary: Watching your best friend get hot was a struggle, him not fucking you was harder.

Characters/Pairing: Best Friend!Lee Chan (Dino) x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, porn without plot there is some if you squint

AU/Trope Info: Best Friends to Fucking, College AU

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, some threats of body harm to self and to others mentioned, smut warnings under the cut

A/N: tagging @bitchlessdino and @the-boy-meets-evil as the main enablers of chan porn, thank you to @wonuvs for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

Silence. Patience, pining, and anticipation. You think you might be going insane with how hard you're holding back from exploding in his face. You watch your best friend, Chan, talk to a girl, who in your opinion is too into whatever he's saying.

Like, okay, he's funny. But he's not squeeze his arm and throw your head back funny.

You're convinced if you stare hard enough you'll be able to burn a hole through the skull of this- objectively pretty- girl. Yeah, you can't get too jealous because she's gorgeous and you would've probably hated Chan if he fumbled her.

Still, that doesn't quench the burning hot jealousy you feel. The fire burning in your stomach being the catalyst for the events that followed that party. The unmistakable, ugly, green head of pure jealousy.

Chan, with his stupidly sculpted face that you've watched mature over the years, his perfect long black hair, his muscles pressing against his shirt, leather jacket, sittable nose-

You just think it's unfair how hot Chan has gotten and he still hasn't thought of fucking you. This isn't fair at all.

Just as you were about to successfully finish off the poor girl in various different ways, Chan finally noticed you stewing in your own envy; hands almost shaking from how hard you were holding back from him.

Chan excuses himself from the girl, much to your relief, to finally join your side again.

“Hey babe, you holding good here?” He says, with that signature, annoyingly charming, dopey smile of his.

“Chan, not gonna lie, I'm gonna fucking kill myself if you don't fuck me right now.” 

If Chan was surprised at your sudden horny outburst, he didn't show it. Ever the giver he is, he gives you one last dopey grin before leaning in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

The force of the kiss caused you to drop the cup you were nursing, the warm beer spilling and soaking into the carpet, but you didn’t care—that was going to be Soonyoung's problem.

Your hands snake up from his firm chest tothe back of his neck, using it as leverage to pull yourself up to his height while pressing him to you.

You both separate from the kiss after remembering that you are, in fact, in public.

“Fuck, get me upstairs now.” You almost said in a whine, desperately clinging onto Chan like your life depended on it—and franky, it actually does.

He just giggles while gently guiding you upstairs to his room, a hand on your lower back while he guides you up the stairs. Entering his room, he stops to call for you,

“Y/n.” 

Your name on his lips made the world stop for a second. It was something simple—he's said it a thousand times—yet, the way he says it now makes you not want him as a best friend. Your name felt like a sleeper agent phrase that awakened a different level of horny in you that you didn’t think was possible.

Instead of replying, you opted to keep kissing him: his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, everywhere your lips could reach.

He falls onto the bed with a soft rustling noise from the sheets, and climbing on top of him, you greedily grind your clothed cunt on his hardening cock under his jeans. 

“Oh fuck, don't do that, not in that dress. I'm gonna cum like in my pants like a loser.” He smiles at you, nose wrinkling in a light-hearted grimace. 

“Oh, Channie,” you started, “I only got this dress so you could take it off.” 

A pathetic moan leaves him, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips jump, his hard cock pressing onto you.

Your lips meet his again. He swallows your sighs of content when his bulge bumps against your throbbing clit, his hands running up your thighs, hot palms dragging up the length of them under the fabric of your dress.

Grabbing handfuls of your ass, Chan keeps the pace as you continue to grind on him, swallowing each other's noises of desperation. 

Chan holds you close to him as he flips you both over, rolling you on your back, his lips reluctantly detaching from yours to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your throat, letting out quiet moans at the taste of it.

Sucking on a specific spot on your neck, Chan's fingers hook on the straps of your dress to shimmy it off of you,  causing a shiver to run down your spine. Now, almost naked in front of him, you paw at his clothes. He pants as he shrugs off his jacket and takes his shirt off, your bare chests pressing against each other's as your lips meet for another feverish kiss.

“Chan, get naked quicker, please- I– I need you inside me so badly.” You whimpered, not caring if you seemed too needy because soon after, Chan's jeans and boxers are on the floor, and his hard cock slaps on his abs, his tip red, angry, leaking for you. Just looking at it, you’re convinced that thing could easily reach up to your throat. 

Ripping your panties off, Chan gets on top of you. “Fuck, you're so wet, lemme hit, babe.” Laughing, you give him the go ahead. Then, his lips are on yours, kissing you as a very large cock tries to split you open.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the satisfying burn of his cock occupying all of your thoughts, successfully dicknotizing you.

Chan wastes no time to set a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass while his pelvis deliciously hits your clit. Clawing at his sheets, you let out loud, unashamed moans, not caring if someone at the relatively calm frat party downstairs heard you.

“Fuck, do you know how long I've dreamt of this? Finally getting to fuck this pussy like it's mine? Are you mine, babe?” Chan babbled, pussy drunk and distracted by your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts.

You're no better than him, already so out of it that you can’t even process the filthy confessions leaving Chan's mouth. Licking your lips, you tilt your head up to suck marks into his skin, burgundy bruises soon blooming as his hips stutter. 

The desperate slapping sounds of your groins meeting shift to shallow ones as you both near your climaxes, Chan letting out precious little gasps and cut-off moans with every thrust.

Not doing any better than him, you whine, dragging your nails down his back, angry red lines appearing on his skin at their wake.

Then, your highs hit you at the same time, white hot pleasure seeping into your bones and boiling under your skin, ears ringing and vision blurring. With a gasp, Chan spills his load deep inside your gummy walls, making your cunt clench around him, sticking to him like a second skin.

Still in that post-orgasm bliss, Chan's hips don't stop moving. stretching your pussy with his cock over and over again, making you both dizzily cling to each other, bodies shivering, mouths drinking in the other's whimpers.

Chan was rutting his hips into yours like he'd perish if he stopped, both of you cringing from over stimulation, Chan sobbing about how good being inside of you felt. Even after just orgasming not 10 seconds ago, he's still hard and desperate to dump another load into you.

You're not sure if your night would end, even after the 4th time he made you cum.

[alohajun]

hey so. idk if asks are still open but. you can’t end racer mingyu like that i need more please 🤗

♡ LUCKY CHARM: THE WINNING FORMULA — KIM MINGYU

f1 racer!mingyu x race engineer!fem!reader | wc : 0.8k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, f1 au, coworkers to lovers, fluff, swearing, mentions of skinship | loki's lines : y’all just enabling my f1xkpop addiction atp, now i have smth to do during the off-season until f1 starts again

“go on a date with me, lucky charm.”

your eyes widened at his confession, not having expected those exact words to leave his lips — let alone hear him say them so publicly for everyone to hear.

the pit crew exchanged knowing glances, having known it was only going to be a matter of time until mingyu had finally realized his feelings for you and asked you out.

because even they knew that there was no way he’d be so smitten with you just because of some superstitious helmet knock.

“gyu, are you being for real right now?” you uttered, still processing everything in shock. “you just got pole on one of the toughest tracks and you want to—”

“there’s no better time than the present.” mingyu cut you off, his cheesy grin widening when he saw the flabbergasted look on your face. “so, what say, lucky charm?”

the ferrari paddock burst into laughter at his optimism, knowing exactly how stubborn mingyu could get when he made a decision. they also knew how he never gave up and always got what he wanted.

“kim mingyu.” you exasperatedly sighed, shaking your head in disbelief as you pulled yourself away from his embrace. “just focus on your race tomorrow. we’ll talk after that.”

mingyu opened his mouth to argue but only grinned as he heard the rest of your words. “that’s not a no. i’ll take it as a win.” he chuckled victoriously to himself.

“how about you get us an actual win while you are at it?” you quipped teasingly, the rest of the garage laughing at the playful banter you two had.

oh, and kim mingyu definitely took those words of yours as a challenge.

as soon as the race started, mingyu took off with the perfect start, defending his position from wonwoo as they drove side by side on the first corner.

you stood by the pit wall, practically glaring holes onto the monitors as you analyzed the data coming in from mingyu’s car. “good start, gyu. let’s go on offense once you get the tires warmed up.” you spoke over the radio, keeping calm.

your heart was practically at your throat as the race neared its end. come on, gyu. don’t fuck up. you got this. you didn’t even dare to blink as you focused on mingyu’s car on the screen.

“oi, don’t worry.” mingyu’s deep voice came through the radio, almost as if he were sensing your nerves. “i got this, lucky charm. and after this, i will cash in on that date; thank you very much.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his confidence, rolling your eyes playfully. “yeah, whatever you say, gyu. get that win first.” you quipped teasingly.

and getting the win he did.

the garage erupted into celebrations as soon as mingyu’s car made it past the checkered flag. you let out a sigh of relief as you fell back in your seat, a soft smile on your face as you shook your head to yourself.

it wasn’t long before you saw mingyu making his way towards you, completely covered in sweat and champagne from his podium celebration. you held up a hand, stopping him from approaching you, wincing slightly as you took him in.

mingyu, however, remained unfazed. “so? that date, lucky charm?” he asked, tilting his head as an amused smirk made its way to his face.

“you are really serious about this, aren’t you?” you asked, biting back a smile as you observed the way he looked. goodness, had he always been this good-looking?

mingyu only scoffed in disbelief, as if the answer to your question was a no-brainer. “with you? i’m always serious.” he slowly took a step closer.

your cheeks flushed as you averted your gaze momentarily. “yeah, we can go on that date.” you mumbled, clearing your throat as you shook your head in mock defeat.

a surprised squeal left your lips when you felt mingyu pull you into a spontaneous hug, shuddering slightly as you made contact with his champagne-soaked race suit — which only made him hug you tighter.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, the garage’s laughter and applause fading into silence as you looked into his eyes.

it was just like the movies, with everything fading into the background as you two just stared at each other.

“i’m not just messing around, yeah?” he spoke up, his voice low and serious, just audible enough for you to hear. “i hope you know that, y/n.”

you nodded slowly, understanding how genuine he was being. “i … i know, gyu.” you reassured him just as quietly.

mingyu’s eyes crinkled as he smiled softly, feeling as if an immense burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

“you are a damn good lucky charm, you know? i won a race, and now i won you over too.”

taglist : @kflixnet @mirxzii @woooooooosh8 @i05wook @gyuguys (to be added, please send an ask or dm!)

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[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - moonlight

a/n: thanks anon for this request, i had quite the fun writing it!! for some reason i see people portray tsukishima as cold and distant even towards his own partner, when in reality i feel like he would be the most gentle lover ever !! but that's just my take, i guess :33

summary: he agreed to be your fake boyfriend to help you scare off your ex, definitely not because of anything else.

warnings: none, mentions of alcohol i guess??

'and to think you would choose someone like him over me.' the man mumbled, an unpleasant smell of alcohol coming from his mouth, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. 'pathetic.'

you felt like ripping your ears out at every slight mention of his name, let alone when having to speak to him in a bar you and your friends went to to relax after a particularly hard day at uni.

of course, your ex wasn't always this bad - or at least that's what you liked to believe. at the very beginning of your relationship, he was almost like a prince charming, the walking definition of perfection. opening doors for you, taking you out on cute dates, protecting you from weird dudes trying to hit on you, you name it. but as time went on, and your relationship hit milestone after milestone, you began to realize that the rose colored glasses you wore were incredibly tinted.

he was overwhelmingly controlling, something you noticed only after he started enabling you from hanging out with your friends and making new ones at uni. he wanted you all to himself and in a bad, overly possessive way. so when you finally broke things off between the two of you, you immediately knew you'll need someone to help you the next time you bump into him.

your best friend introducing you to tsukishima at almost the same time was certainly a blessing in your eyes.

'do we have a problem here?' the monotone voice coming from behind your shoulder echoed in your ears, tsukishimas tall frame hovering over both you and your ex. his intimidating nature was a perfect asset in the agreement you made three months ago, and yet the man whom you've dated before still just couldn't let go.

the blonde man's hand was loosely resting on your waist, the sight clearly annoying your ex-boyfriend, brows furrowed as his eyes shot daggers at tsukishima.

'we're just talking.' he said, taking a big gulp from his drink. 'is that so bad, dude?'

'i seriously doubt my girlfriend wants to talk to you.' he took a step forward, now standing right by your side, fingers gently caressing your waist as if it was something natural for him. his eyes quickly met with yours, as if a check-up to see if you were okay, before coming back to the unpleasant sight of your ex, a scoff leaving his lips. 'move on, will you? it's embarrassing, dude.'

as his hand still rested just above your hip, tsukishima silently signaled that it's best if the two of you leave the bar, gently nudging you towards the door.

'i wasn't done talking-'

'i'm pretty sure you were.' the blonde boy mumbled, ignoring the angry face your ex made at him as the two of you headed towards the door.

the night was unusually cold for summer, and you could feel the light breeze on your arms, shivering at the chilly air outside. tsukishima took notice of that pretty quickly, and his button-up shirt was loosely hanging off of your shoulders in no time.

'thank you.' he could see the gentle smile on your lips as your head turned towards him, stopping in your tracks as you noticed a nearby bench. your body immediately plopped down on the wood, his following right after.

'it's just for the agreement, nothing more.' the man mumbled quietly, eyes gazing at the night sky as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

'oh, come on. you must like me at least a little bit if you agreed to do that.' you playfully nudged him on the shoulder with your index finger, sounding almost like a pre-teen at kindergarten, happy to tease their friend for whatever reason.

tsukishima leaned back, arms crossed as he let out a soft laugh, and you could swear that in the moonlight, he looked even more beautiful than ever.

'am i truly that transparent?'

in the darkness, you could barely see a slight smile on his face, his sparkly eyes still focused on the night sky after his confession.

you sat there in silence, eyes wide as you tried to find the right words for this situation, fingers nervously playing with the hem of the button-up.

'you really think i would've agreed to this if i didn't like you?' he said slowly, body not even moving an inch.

'now that you mention it,' you thought for a second, tsukishima's question, making you realize what he meant. 'you don't strike me as someone who would agree to anything like this. especially with someone you just met.'

'took you a long time to realize that, idiot.' he mumbled, letting out a quiet, airy laugh as he put his hand up to flick your forehead. 'i liked you even before we started talking, so i asked yachi to introduce us to each other. and you just so happened to need the help of a guy.'

'i didn't expect that from the ever so unfriendly and aloof tsukishima kei.' you giggled, head gently resting on his shoulder, the sudden contact surprising the blonde-haired man. 'i guess you're not as heartless as you pretend to be.'

'guess i'm not.'

the town was almost perfectly quiet, only a few distant sounds of chatter and singular cars disturbing the peace. tsukishima carefully let one of his hands down, fingers millimeters away from yours, so close they were almost touching.

'i thought you'd curse me out for it.' he admitted, unable to continue sitting in silence, something even he himself found weird. 'you know, we promised not to fall for each other, and i kinda failed at that. really badly.'

'would it make you feel any better if i told you i failed that task too?'

tsukishima's eyes darted away, and he thanked the night for being so dark that you couldn't see the pinkish color on his cheeks.

'if i were to ask you out properly now-'

'yes.' you didn't let him finish, too impatient to wait till the end of the sentence. 'yes, i would agree.'

the blonde-haired man rarely ever acted on impulse, but that singular time he let himself go on the spur of the moment, hand reaching to swiftly drag you closer to him as he wrapped you into a loose hug, nuzzling his face in your hair as his lips planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.

'i'm glad.'

in the dim light of the moon, you couldn't clearly see his features, but as you looked up at him, you swore that in this moment, tsukishima kei was smiling like a lovestruck fool.

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita @haechansbbg @serotoninbarbz @luvvrgirll

[literalite]

hi!! here's the long promised simdump- i'm sorry that it took me basically an entire year to get to it but i hope it's worth the wait... also thank u guys for 10k :') erm i'm rounding down by a bit bcos i gave up on getting rid of bots a while back but even then its still a crazy number. love u!!

some of these sims have appeared in mine or other people's posts before, but i don't have very strong headcanons or opinions about any of them. you can do whatever you want!

you can alter their names/traits/cosmetics however you wish, although please don't mess with their skintones/body type/gender

all cc belongs to the original creators- however i have enabled a few things for both frames (specifically the eyelashes)

tag me if you use them! i love seeing my little guys in other ppls games

DOWNLOAD (mediafire)

[moonastro]

your future career

pick a picture

left to right(top)-> 1,2,3

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.

°Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).

° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

pile one: I'm seeing connections related to your career. what i mean about that is that you will have close relationships with very high status people that will help you along with your journey. I'm getting the vibes of when you ask someone about a goal of yours and they tell you that they know someone that can help you with your goal. It feels very prosperous and fortunate.

A career that you worked very hard for and stayed consistent in. like I'm feeling you studied, research and looked at every aspect of the career. Very knowledgeable about what you know. I also feel that you knew what you wanted to do from a very early age and it might have been your dream/goal to pursue that path. And to say the least, you will!! This is the literal definition of aiming high and achieving it. Sidenote- this career will be very unexpected for people when you tell them your status. You probably worked quietly and that's what got you to success.

This is also a career that may consist of you being very independent and thinking for yourself. This will enable you to help your family here also. I see you being the first in your family to achieve something very big and successful. This will allow you to take care of your family and help them out financially and giving them what they deserve for all the hardships that they supported you through.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

pile two: You may be unsure of what you are truly wanting as a career. you may be overthinking or just taking some time off and planning what might be suitable for you. (take this lightly please).

Anyway, i see money coming from overseas, very much investing and saving vibes. You take risks with this career, and take opportunities that are available. You also give a lot so this convinces me that it is investing. You reach for the impossible and you keep moving. some moves that are risky and out of context will also be a theme here, so the job may require toughness and risk overall.

there is a lot of consciousness about your surroundings. there is an instant reflex that you have when it comes to making quick and instant decisions. that actually may be your specialty. people come to you to get opinions and kind of like permission?? this convinces me that it may be a boss career OR a leading position that you take care of.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

pile three: Wowww. This career will be full of success and alignments. you will be very liked in your space and it will truly feel so destined that you will stay at the job for a very long time. you will go through lots and lots of other jobs before finally settling to the one. It may feel like you are very un grounded but trust everything, do not doubt your journey!!!

Somehow i feel like this career will be a luck thing. like i see you getting offered something and you accepting or you going out of your comfort zone only to get the best results from it. This job is somewhat of a surprise to you but you will be good at whatever you do.

I feel like the career will consist of lots of speaking and thinking. Very much office vibes (not saying it is). It will allow you to stand your ground and be able to express your opinions freely. I also think that you will become more confident with this career. like it will definitely change you for the better. Also, there will also be lots of connections like pile one, but for this pile it is more like unprofessional, unlike pile one it is very structured and professional connections. like it is more of you will meet lots of new peers and generally know lots of people by just being friendly.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

that's all for this post! thanks for reading, it is most appreciated💗🤍

[oldwritingm]

hii- love ur writing btw- I was wondering if you could do a Ninjago headcanon, but the reader is touch-starved or something like that? Thanks <3

Aaa thank you for your kind words!! And here you go :D

Ninjago - Ninjas with a Touch-Starved Partner

Kai

He’s pretty comfortable with physical affection, so he’s more than happy to give you some

He might not initiate it as often as you do, but he’ll never push you away

If anything he’ll take the hint and take the lead

Like, if you’re watching a movie together and you reach for his hand sheepishly, he yanks you by the arm onto his chest so you guys can cuddle

He’s very warm, both figuratively and literally

Sometimes he does tease you about it though

“What? Why are you grabbing at me?”

“You know why.”

“Aww, are you feeling clingy? My clingy little love?”

“Shut up before I change my mind-”

He will indeed shut up quite promptly if you pull that last line out on him

(He’s secretly a little touch-starved too)

Cole

Honestly he barely even notices you being touch-starved

He just naturally gives you a lot of affection, and complies mindlessly when you seek it

He’s happy you guys are close; he doesn’t really think about it beyond that

He’s cool with whatever affection you need, all you have to do is give him a hint

Touch his pinky, he’ll hold your hand. Scoot closer on the couch, he’ll put his arm around your shoulder. It’s just natural for him

So this is great if you’re trying to be discreet about being touch-starved

But if you tell him (and you will have to verbalize it if you want him to know), he’ll be more conscious about his efforts to give you love :)

He’ll just be more deliberate about holding your hand or sitting thigh-to-thigh on benches

He loves you a lot, and he needs to let you know!

But he’s also conscious about boundaries; he’ll send you permission-seeking glances before he gets cozied up with you

Or he’ll just ask

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. This is great.”

“Good. Love you.”

Jay

You’re touch starved? Great! He’s clingier than velcro

Honestly I don’t even think he’d clue in to the fact that you’re touched starved

He’s just glad that you take well to his incessant advances

Most of the time, anyway

He’s literally always touching you: holding hands, a head on your shoulder, your feet in his lap, his feet in yours—he’ll do anything to keep contact with you

Cuddling is his favorite though

He might not even be aware of how clingy he’s being; you do kind of enable him

Not that that’s a bad thing! Both your needs are being met :]

But you ever get uncomfy or awkward, he might not notice, so you’ll have to tell him if you want to stop

He’ll be sad, but he’ll respect your boundaries

“Hey Jay, can we, uh, not cuddle for a minute?”

“Hm? Why? I mean—yes, yeah, of course. …. I love you..?”

“Yeah. Same here. Thank you.”

Zane

He’s not really one for physical affection

But if he knows you’re touch starved, of course he’s going to enrich you!

It’ll be an experiment for both of you: just finding out what feels right

Cuddling, holding hands, just sitting thigh-to-thigh…

When you do find something you both like, Zane makes an effort to do it more often

Though physical affection isn’t his main love language, when it’s with you, it does actually warm his heart a little

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s helping you out, maybe it’s the warm feeling of your skin… whatever it is, he slowly finds himself liking it more and more

So he’ll initiate more often, much to your benefit

Communication is key with you guys

He asks often to make sure you’re not uncomfortable, and you always make sure to return the favor:

“Is this still alright?”

“Yeah. Are you still okay?”

“Yes, I’m still very much enjoying this.”

Lloyd

What do you get when you cross two touch starved people?

Koala bears. That’s what you guys are

Lloyd had a rough “childhood,” so of course he craves affection

At first, it took a minute for you guys to realize the other’s needs

But once you figured out that you craved affection equally, you plunged into the depths of fluff

Cuddles. So many cuddles.

You guys always sit with your shoulders touching and fingers entwined

Even when you’re trying to be serious, you’re close (like, if Lloyd is looking over a map, you’re behind him, looking at the map with your chin on his shoulder)

It’s quite deliberate; you do it as much for each other as for yourselves

Sometimes you have to restrain yourselves for the sake of others, though

“Okay, time to get serious.”

“Right.”

“…That means you should probably let go of my hand.”

“…Right.”

Nya

Though she’s always happy to help you, sometimes physical affection can get a bit much for her

She doesn’t mind holding hands, or having your head on her shoulder, or even cuddling

But sometimes she just needs some space

I suppose this is fortunate if you’re a little awkward about affection, but otherwise you’ll have to consider her as well when you seek attention

She tries to be polite about it, at least giving you a pinky to hold or something

But sometimes she’s just not in the mood at all, and you’re gonna have to respect that

But when she is in the mood (which is most of the time), she’s rather aggressive with her affection

(I think it’s called affectionate aggression?)

Like, she’ll nuzzle you so hard you say “ow” or squeeze your hand like she’s trying to break your fingers

She reasons that, the harder she shows affection, the more it’s worth

So expect to get some marks when you go seeking affection…

“Oh, want me to hold your hand?”

“Yes, but—ow!”

“Teehee! Do you feel the love?”

Thank you for this request, I hope this turned out okay! And thanks for reading, take care cutie pies!! <33

(divider by saradika)

[jpitha]

Painfully Bright

The humans tend to go… a little overboard when designing things, this is known, and the rest of the Coalition understands. Years of interaction and experience has taught most of the Coalition that sometimes… you just let them get it out of their system. 

This time, I wasn’t so sure though. 

I swear to the voice of my ancestors I don’t know why they insist that we… witness their next wild development. It’s like they have a burning desire to show the Coalition what they built. It’s like their latest toy doesn’t exist until they show it off. 

This time, we were all ferried into one of their smaller - though still gigantic by our standards - frigates and brought to - literally - the middle of interstellar space. By the fur of my children, I am not lying! When we Flipped, we came back into what I could only describe is an… arena, hundreds of kilometers across. They had built massive gantries and hung lights off of them, the shadows cast by the lights were talon sharp. I have no idea how they were able to build lights that bright. Honestly, I think that my administration would be more interested in those lights instead of… whatever is on the platform in the center. I’ll ask after the demonstration. 

With unaided visio, the platform was a simple black speck. Helpfully, the screens in the observation room were connected to telescopes, and a high resolution image was projected next to the real-time view. Additionally, our pads were tied into the camera feed so that we could all change what scopes we were watching, if we wanted to see a detail that the main camera wasn’t showing. It was all very professional and set up to make sure we could all see and observe. 

More Coalition members filed in after me, having spent more time at the refreshment tables than I. The humans did their best, and some members found their cuisine quite intriguing, but I for one could not stand it. Too loud, too flavorful, too… much like them. I had a water bulb, and got a good seat while everyone else stuffed their inputs. As they came in and found seats, I had noticed that some humans, and even a few other Coalition members walked quietly in behind the guests and took up positions around the room. They were all wearing a sharply tailored uniform, black, with a white undershirt peeking out behind an open lapel. The humans had a name for this outfit, I remember them saying it. Ugh, I can’t remember. 

A few more minutes were spent waiting, and then a human walked to the front of the room and addressed the gathering; “Friends, Sapients, thank you for attending our demonstration. We here at StrossCo are incredibly excited to demonstrate our new power reactor. We are convinced that this wholly new design which is smaller, more powerful, and yet has the same operating costs will enable everyone in the Coalition to more easily power their ships, stations, and anything else that requires power. I wish to apologize that the demonstration reactor is so far away, but unfortunately HIDA regulations-” I noticed his eyes flick over to one of the people stationed around the room, and then nearly as quickly back to the audience, “-require it. Rest assured, it is perfectly safe, and will pose no danger to anyone when in regular operation. Now, if you please-” He gestured dramatically, and with a clunk and a noise like something spinning down, the lights went out. The screens went dead, and even the ever-present thrum of the environmental systems ceased. I felt light in my seat, and noticed my water bulb drifting slowly. All the power was off.

There were mumbles and murmurs of conversation as realization set in, and then, almost as quickly as the power went off, it returned. First gravity, then environmental, then lights and finally cameras and screens. Everything was back on, and the human in front was grinning wickedly. “Now, everything here - this frigate, the lights in the arena, all beacons, sensors, sentries and ships - everything - is being powered by our new reactor.”

What was previously a murmur of conversation rose in intensity when realization set in. If they were not lying - and they had no reason to lie - their singular reactor was powering more than nearly a dozen Coalition reactors. The power output was positively titanic. I could see notes being quickly written, and some others were muttering things into comms and dicts. Everyone was interested in this. I looked at the large screen, and noticed that the magnified view was gone. We could only see the small speck of the platform. I attempted to call up the magnified view on my pad, and could not access it. I stood and ruffled my feathers. “Pardon me. I notice that the magnified view of the reactor has been turned off. May we please get a close up view of the reactor in action?”

The StrossCo rep looked at me, and then I saw his eyes flick back to one of the suited humans. I didn’t see their reaction, but I could tell the rep was disappointed. “Er, no, I’m sorry. It seems to be… technical difficulties. Our tech teams are working now to get everything back up as quickly as possible.”

That couldn’t be right. Something felt off. I made my way past other members taking notes and making calls, and walked up to the screen. I got as close as I could and tried to get a better view. “Is there a physical viewport here? As you are aware, Innari have excellent vision. I would like to look at the reactor with my own eyes.”

“Uh, I’m afraid that is quite impossible right now; as you are aware -er, Sapient, human frigates have very few physical windows as they are a deliberate hole in the hull and are a structural weakness and-” 

His rambling defence of not letting us see the reactor was cut off by the lights beginning to grow painfully bright. At the edge of my vision, I could see strobing. The environmental fans increased from a gentle movement of the air to a stiff breeze. Fortunately, the gravity remained the same. I looked up at the rep and all the color had drained from his face. “Pardon me” he said, absently and then ran out of the room. Not willing to give up learning what was going on, I followed. 

He ran past the reception hall, towards a control room deeper in the ship. As we entered, it was a frantic commotion of movement and noise. One of the suited humans at the door noticed me, and raised an eyebrow, questioning, but said nothing. 

“It’s overspeeding again! I told you it wasn’t ready to demo.” A human sitting at a station said to the rep as he walked in.

“Shut it down. Nobody has seen the reactor yet, we can switch back to shipboard power and Flipwarp everyone out of here before they see.” The rep had placed his hand on the back of the human’s chair and was peering over his shoulder at the screen. I couldn’t read the text, but I knew the humans used red to delineate problems, and the screens had a lot of red.

“What about the bird?” Another human looked over their shoulder at me and inclined their head. “They’re going to see the whole thing.”

“Don’t call them birds, you took the HR class same as me” the rep said, as he ran over to another station and pressed a few buttons. “He’s an Innari and one of the Coalition observers and we can have him sign an NDA. He wanted to see what the reactor looked like anyway.”  He stood and looked at me. “You’re going to sign an NDA when this is all over.” It was not a question. I nodded - a human gesture.

“Can I see the reactor now?”

One of the black suited humans stepped into the room, the one that was by the door when the demonstration was going on I think. She exuded this… authority. She wasn’t dressed any differently than the other suited humans, but at her entrance, everyone calmed down, became more subdued. “Show him. He’s already agreed to sign the NDA.”

“But, the frame-dragging-effect will be-” the Rep’s protestations were weak.

“Show. Him.” 

Without another word, he pressed a few more buttons on the panels, and a large screen in front of everyone lit up. It was the same view of the platform as before, but this one was magnified and much clearer than the ones we had in the demonstration hall. 

Something was wrong with the reactor. I looked wrong. When I looked past it the gantry in view, the lights, the interstellar stars behind it were… spiraling. Everything directly behind the reactor from our vantage point was gently spiraling. Without a word, I looked at the woman who had ordered me to see it.

“It’s frame-dragging.” She said, with a sigh. “Again.” She looked down at me, and noticed my confusion. She must have some training with Innari body language. “Some of the components in the reactor are spinning relativistically, which is causing the local space-time fabric to… spin.”

“Is it spinning, or are we?” I said, confused.

“Yes.” She said and sighed again. “They can't stop it if it’s already frame dragging, it’s going too fast. The pseudomass is too high. We either have to disconnect it and hope it spins down or…” she trailed off.

“Or what?”

“Or everyone finds out why we ordered this demonstration to be done two parsecs from any inhabited world.”

Well, that explained that at least. I looked back at the woman who seemed to be in charge. “So, why don’t we just Flipwarp away?”

“Yes, Allan, why don’t we just Flipwarp away?” She said pointedly, while looking at the Rep. 

“The investment at this point is in the kilotrillion Stars, we can’t just abandon-” he started, but then there was a flash of binding light from the reactor and I had thought it had detonated, but it… just… stayed.

“Oh, goody.” The human in charge said, flatly. “It’s started to accrete matter. Didn’t this happen the last time you ran a test Allan, and didn’t HIDA say that it was not to happen again?”

“Administrator McKay please, if we could only-” the human apparently named Allan said before he was cut off.

“No. This demonstration has finished. I am declaring an emergency, HIDA is now in charge.” Administrator McKay clicked a com on her wrist. “Captain, you will Flash us away right now. Best speed please.” There was a crackle of static and a small voice said something I couldn’t hear. “What do you mean, you can’t switch back to internal reactors?” More static and crackled voices. “No, that doesn’t make sense, the connections to-” before she could finish, there was a lurch, and I could feel the gravity begin to swing wildly, trying to compensate for the motion, but moving just an instant behind so it felt like I was being pulled in multiple directions. 

“Administrator! The pseudomass has transitioned to physical mass! We are being pulled by the reactor’s gravity. Stationkeeping reports that the thrusters are being overwhelmed. If we don’t Flash soon, we won’t be able to.”

“Damn you, Allan.” She said, snarling, “If we survive this StrossCo will go back to being an indie publisher, I will personally ensure it.” She looked down at me. “Innari! You’ve been deputized. Come with me.” Without checking to see if I was following she took off down the hall.

I followed, what else could I do? Her long strides made her deceptively fast, but she never fell out of sight, and we reached a room deep within the ship. On either side of the bulkhead were two armed and armored guards. When Administrator McKay came into view, they saluted sharply. 

She returned the salute quickly and said “We need to disconnect the umbilical to StrossCo’s test reactor so we can flash home on ours.”

“Right away Administrator,” and the guard on the right palmed a pad next to the door. There was a chirp and a green light, and the door slid open.

I’m an administrator, I’m not a reactor technician, a commander, or even an engineer. I talk to people, make deals. What I mean to explain is that I have no idea what a reactor hall - let alone a human reactor hall is supposed to look like. 

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to look like this, however. 

The room was painfully bright with sharp, stark shadows being cast by what I can only describe as a cable, stretched taut running down the middle of the hall. People wearing white suits with smoked helmets were running around the hall, trying to control something. I covered my eyes with my feathered hand, trying to not be dazzled, when Administrator McKay handed me a pair of goggles. Curiously, they were for Innari bodyplans. I wondered why she had those. Regardless, I put them on, and found that they were able to block the worst of the light from the cable while still enabling me to see. “Come along Inn-” She stopped. “What is your name? It feels rude to just call you ‘Innari.”

I couldn’t help myself. Even during an emergency, introductions must be done right. I stood up a little straighter and said “In the common parlance, I am called Howling Wind, though that is not my given name.”

“Nice to meet you, Howling Wind, I am Administrator Tiff McKay. Now that introductions are out of the way, I need you to go over to that panel, next to the cable.” She pressed a comm button into my hand, and almost reflexively, I clipped it to some feathers near my auditory input. Before I could ask why, she had taken off at a dead run towards the other end of the hall.

“Howling Wind, are you in position?” She asked a moment later. 

I had made my way to the panel she indicated. I was much closer to the cable than I preferred to be. It’s not that it was… hot, but it almost radiated something beyond heat. It radiated the impression of heat. That would be fine right? Probably. Innari aren’t as susceptible to ionizing radiation as humans are, but this wasn’t radioactive, I thought. “I am at the panel Administrator McKay.”

“Good. While looking at the panel, there are a series of three buttons along the top right corner. They’re normally red and blue but with your goggles and the light from the cable that is probably washed out. Press them one time only moving from left to right.”

I pressed the buttons, and there was a click below me

“A panel will have opened up. I’ll need you to duck into the panel and tell me when you are in position.”

I looked in, and sure enough, an opening barely large enough for someone of my size had opened. I leaned in nearly all the way. “I am.. In the panel.”

“To your right is a lever. It has a trigger near the base. You must pull the trigger first and then push the lever. Do it now.”

“What will it-”

“Just do it Howl, there isn’t time.”

Mentally shrugging, and whispering a prayer to my Ancestors - may they watch over me and not laugh too much - I pulled the trigger, there was a detent and then I felt something like a spring release, and pushed the lever. 

It was very hard to push. I had to put my whole body into it, and at first it felt like I wasn’t doing anything. I braced my back against the top of the panel, and pushed as hard as I could. When I thought I couldn’t push anymore, there was a clunk and a whipping, metallic noise and I was plunged into darkness. I could hear shouting and boots thundering around me, then there was the prismatic flash of light that filled the reactor room for an instant that indicated that we had Flashed. 

I slowly slid myself out from under the panel, only to find Administrator McKay looming over me. She held out a hand, and I gladly took her help to get back on my talons. Sliding the goggles down from my face, I looked at her. “Just what… did we do?”

“We - er, you initiated a manual disconnect of the umbilical from the overspeeding reactor so that the frigate’s reactors could Flash us to safety. You saved everyone Howl.”

As she spoke, some of the reactor technicians took off their smoked goggles and took a look. I could feel their eyes staring at me.

I could only think of stupid things to say, so I just said it. “Why me?”

McKay laughed. “Just lucky I guess. There was a serious amount of ionizing radiation coming from the connector and I knew that Innari were much more resistant to radiation than humans, so I was able to get you to disconnect it. We’ll take you to med, but I think you’ll be fine. How are your hands?”

My hands? I looked down and… yes, some of the tiny feathers on my digits had turned gray, and were falling off, dead. It didn’t hurt though. Shouldn’t it hurt?

“Ah yes, some minor damage to your hands.” She said. “We’ll fix it up, don’t worry.”

“Why doesn’t it hurt?” I asked, dumfounded.

“It doesn’t hurt?” She seemed surprised. “I didn’t think Innari went into shock, so maybe the nerve endings were destroyed.” She patted my shoulder. “Regardless, you saved us all today Howl, thank you.” There were smiles and noises of thanks and congratulations coming from the reactor team, it was… odd.

“Everything happened so suddenly. I didn’t have time to question my reactions.” I said to her, as we walked down the hall towards med.

“Yes, that’s how emergencies go Howl. You did well. In fact-” She reached into her pocket and took out a small white card and placed it into the pocket of my sash. “When your hands are all healed, call me. We can always use people who can think on their feet.