#they need to have trust and faith in him too

[alexthebordercollie]

it's nice to see mystery trio aus that aren't fiddlestan tbh. The amount of times I'll see one, think it looks interesting, and then it just turns into "wow Stan, you're so much nicer and cooler than your lame brother! Lets date!" And act like it's some kind of karma for Ford or something.

I definitely agree with your take that so often fiddlestan is just used as a way to express dislike of Ford, while ignoring any of Stan's canonical flaws

As a side note, since this is more of personal headcanon territory, but i think Stan would find Fiddleford too reminiscent of Ford when he was young to actually be interested.

Anyway, i always love to see Stan in his natural habitat (being a chaotic uncle)

I love the idea of the Mystery Trio. I think these three would play off each other really well. They're cute and funny together, but you don't need Fiddlestan. It feels like people treat it as a given that if offered the choice between Stan and Ford Fidds would choose Stan. Which is kind of shitty. (Low key it kind of reads to me like Ford is assumed the worse partner because he's autistic :/ even if people aren't consciously treating him that way.)

I think it's kind of presumptuous to assume Fidds would be into Stan anyway. Like physically attracted to him? Sure, obviously. If he finds Ford attractive odds are good Stan would also be nice to look at, but relationships aren't just physical attraction and it's obvious from the journals and BOB that Fidds had a very strong connection to Ford. If he's in love with an autistic nerd enough to throw his life away for him why would people assume Stans's wildly contrasting personality would somehow be more appealing?

I've actually had this comic kicking around in my mind for a while and this ask gave me a good excuse to draw it. (Though it took longer than expected)

While I don't think Fidds would ever choose Stan over Ford, I do think Ford would be a bit of a jealous and insecure partner. He's used to a lot of social rejection and struggles to maintain connections with people. Not to mention trust issues, especially after Bill who tried to sabotage his faith in Fiddleford in particular.

I wouldn't put it past Ford to get antsy seeing Fidds get along with his brother even if there's absolutely nothing going on there.

Also, I hadn't considered the suggestion that Stan might find Fidds nerdiness a turn-off because it reminds him too much of his brother, but yeah I could see it. Still, I'd buy Stan being interested in Fidds before I could really see the other way around happening. I think Stanley's tastes are bit broader but Fiddleford I imagine to have a bit more of a type. At least where romantic attraction is concerned. That said I don't think Fiddleford's actual tastes are really considered, I think he gets shipped with Stanley by people who want to see Stanley get that kind of overbearing love that Fidds showed to Ford. I do understand wanting to give him that kind of partner but Ford deserves love too, we don't need to be taking his healthy romantic option away from him and leave him with Bill. (His abuser.)

[demon-country]

#wiggles hands #i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!??? #and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was. and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE?? #puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn.

Wow. This... sure is a lot of extremely bad faith misinterpretations of those scenes. I'm going to address all of this step by step, I guess, because my dude, you are wildly off the mark on basically everything you accused Stolas of. So I hope you're ready, because this reply is going to be very long.

"#i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!???"

Yeah no, Stolas had every right to walk away, and was 100% justified in doing so. Maybe it wasn't entirely fair to Blitz, because on his end of things it looked totally different, but you already seem to understand what it looked like from Blitz's pov, so since we're talking about whether they equally fucked up or not, then I want you to step back from that and think about how it looked to Stolas, too.

Blitz did not respond to Stolas' confession with "hold the fuck on" or "what the fuck?" or "what do you mean?", nor did he do literally anything at all to suggest that he was confused or needed a moment to process what Stolas was saying. Blitz's immediate, snap reaction was to go "ohhh, okay you're fucking with me! This is an interesting roleplay, never done this one before but I can get into it. 'Ohhh, Stolas, I'll stay with you~! I love you sooo much~!'"

Perhaps you've never experienced this, but let me assure you that it is soul-crushingly awful to confess something important to you to someone you trust, only for them to completely write it off as a joke and/or make fun of you for it. It's extremely humiliating and feels like a deep betrayal, because you trusted them and were vulnerable with them, and in return all you got was mockery.

I've asked a number of real life actual people who have all, without fail, said that if that happened to them they'd end the conversation right there and walk away. Most of them, including me, said they'd leave just so they could go cry in private, and one said that they'd basically say "fuck you" and leave because they were pissed off. Stolas was the former. Take a moment to really, genuinely think about what your own reaction would be to having someone you love and trust make fun of you after you confess something important and vulnerable. It doesn't have to be a love confession, mine certainly wasn't, but do you honestly think you'd want to stick around after that?

So Stolas would have been justified in walking away just from that. He was very kind as he took his leave too and tried to bow out as gracefully as he could without causing a fuss, which is made all the more impressive because Blitz unintentionally triggered Stolas' trauma with the roleplay bit. Stolas has lived with Stella for 18 years at this point in the timeline, and part of how she abused him was humiliating him and mocking his feelings. He hides it decently well with Stella, because he's had decades of practice at this point, but we see in Ozzie's that being humiliated, especially in public, is a trauma landmine that Blitz tripped right onto. Yeah, he's going to leave, and it's not a fault that he does.

Moreover, you'll notice that Stolas doesn't kick Blitz out here or tell him to leave. He walks away further into the house, and yes he's probably expecting that Blitz will take it as an opportunity to bounce, but he does not tell him to go. Blitz could have waited as he took the moment he needed and thought things over, and then talked and asked whatever questions he needed to after Stolas came back. It was his bedroom and it was midnight, it's not like Stolas wasn't going to come back within the next couple of hours. Or Blitz could have left, thought things over, and come back. Instead, he followed after Stolas, which wasn't a great feeling for either of them, because Stolas was only barely staving off a breakdown and Blitz was getting hit in that abandonment trauma all over again, but Stolas walking off scared him so he acted on the impulse to not let Stolas get away. 

And he started off fine! Even though he was basically chasing Stolas, he wasn't angry or anything. He asked "wait, you were serious?! Hold on now, Stolas. What the fuck?" and Stolas did his best to answer even as he kept walking, rather than telling him to go away or kicking him out. His answer was poorly worded though and it set Blitz off, which is when we get to your next point.

#and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was.

???? How on earth did you reach this conclusion?? Of course Stolas would never teleport Stella outside like that. That's not respect, that's fear. It took everything he had to stand up to Stella the way he did, which we know because he collapsed as soon as she was gone. He was terrified of her; he was backing away while she approached and knew she was about to hit him. He was fighting back, yes, but you can tell from her reaction that he almost never has in the past. It had nothing to do with respecting her, because his normal response seems to be either standing there silently taking the abuse or shrinking in on himself while trying to placate her.

As for what happened in the ballroom, Stolas was triggered for the second time in just a handful of minutes, this time by Blitz slamming open the door and yelling. It says absolutely nothing about how much Stolas does or does not respect him that these actions triggered a trauma response in Stolas. Trauma doesn't work like that. Anyone doing that to Stolas would have made him panic, because when you're experiencing a traumatic reaction, even if you're somewhere safe with someone you implicitly trust, your brain freaks the fuck out.

It was in no way disrespectful to kick Blitz out, it was just Stolas going into extreme Flight mode. Blitz wasn't letting him leave and at the end even ran towards him (to apologize, but Stolas had no way of knowing that and Blitz was already half out the portal before he started to say sorry and didn't even finish it. Also, you hear Stolas very faintly saying he's sorry before the portal closes), of course he's going to force Blitz out! He didn't want a fight with Blitz like he had with Stella, because he wasn't angry, he just wanted to be alone.

"and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE??"

No, he really, really does not have to sit there and hear Blitz out. Stolas made it very clear in actual words that he did not want to see Blitz right then, because he was feeling too raw so soon after everything and Blitz was not giving him any space to breathe. And Blitz, once again, did not leave. He also, you'll notice, didn't force Blitz to leave, he just asked him to go, because this time he wasn't outright panicking. And even then, he kept giving Blitz chances to talk things out with him, showing that he wasn't dismissing Blitz.

Also, you're really telling me that you think a victim of domestic violence should be forced to stick around when someone is yelling at them? It doesn't matter if he "initiated things", that doesn't mean he's going to okay when someone starts grabbing and yelling at him. If Blitz was being calmer about it, and wasn't continually intentionally mocking Stolas and his feelings throughout that conversation (which, again, big trigger for Stolas, he's just hiding it better now because he was braced for it. Note that he's reacting a lot like he did when Stella was mocking him at the party) then I might agree with you. If Stolas had actually instigated the garden scene by telling Blitz to come over and then refused to listen while Blitz tried to explain, that'd be super fucked up. But Stolas didn't ask Blitz to come over, explicitly told him to leave because it hurt to much to talk to him right then, and Blitz was not being calm. Blitz was self-destructing and was being both clingy and aggressive, because he was scared of losing Stolas but was even more terrified of being vulnerable, and he habitually masks his fear with anger.

"#puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ."

Buddy. Dude. Stolas didn't actually spring this on Blitz. Blitz literally says at the beginning of the episode that he's been avoiding Stolas because he knows Stolas wants to talk, and he doesn't want things to become complicated. He knows things will change as soon as he actually talks to Stolas and that freaks him out, because in his mind it can't possibly be something good, and this fear is exacerbated by what Loona told him. He literally tells Fizz that Stolas does things to show he likes him, and multiple people have flat out told Blitz that he does, and Blitz can't believe that for multiple reasons, but this entire thing has been building up for months and he knows it. 

Stolas also did not spring his "feelings bullshit" on Blitz either, despite what Blitz claimed. It might have felt like it, because up until then he was in complete denial of those feelings being genuine, but Stolas has not been subtle, by any means. He has, in his and everyone else's minds, been showing Blitz that he cares about him at the very least as a friend, since this whole thing started. Even in fucking Loo Loo Land, despite him awkwardly trying to flirt with Blitz a couple of times, he doesn't actually try to start anything while they're there. He doesn't even seem to expect something sexual to happen between them at all, because he says he wants Blitz and his employees to come and immediately offers to pay Blitz with money, rather than sexual favors like Blitz anticipated. He's using it as an excuse to hang out with Blitz - because he's an idiot who didn't think about how uncomfortable it'd be for literally everyone involved, especially Octavia - and Blitz even knows that because he knows Stolas doesn't actually need one bodyguard, let alone three.

He invited all of them to the harvest moon festival because he thought it'd be fun, again with no expectation of anything sexy happening. He came to rescue I.M.P. with no ulterior motive, he just wanted to help them. He didn't ask for or suggest that he wanted sex in return for the save either, he just asked for a thank you in a very pouty voice because none of them thanked him, and Blitz turned things sexual, which he was happy to follow the lead on. He was super excited for the date, dressed up super fancy, proudly walked into Ozzie's holding Blitz's hand, tried over and over to talk to Blitz because he thought it was a real date, stood up to defend Blitz from Verosika (which Blitz didn't see and which he didn't get to follow through on, because Ozzie took that chance to go on the attack and publicly humiliate him), and even after that disaster he still invited Blitz in solely to hang out and maybe cuddle a bit.

He would ask Blitz to stay the night after they were done having sex instead of just kicking him out, which we see in the memory fragments. He called Blitz on the regular just to talk about his day and was frequently interacting with him on social media, both for approximately a year and a half. He was oblivious to how condescending his attempts at flirting were and had no idea how demeaning it was for Blitz until Blitz finally showed him how much all that hurt him (after Ozzie's), but he only was acting like that and talking that way because he genuinely believed that it was what Blitz wanted and was into, based on their first night together (doesn't excuse it, of course, but it was another way he was desperately trying to show how much he wanted Blitz).

For close to two years by the time The Full Moon rolled around, Stolas has been trying very hard and kind of ineptly to show Blitz he likes him, and at the very least wants to be real friends with him (that also have sex). Literally everyone who has seen them together knows how much Stolas likes Blitz, including Blitz despite him being in denial of it. He has tried again and again and again for nearly two years to show Blitz he cares about him and wants him around, and Blitz - for understandable reasons given his own trauma, history, biases, and hangups - has rejected him time and again. That's why Stolas was expecting Blitz to reject him following his confession. He expected Blitz to tell him to fuck off or to just take the crystal and run without looking back, but he didn't expect to be (unintentionally) mocked. He didn't expect Blitz, who he trusted, to humiliate him. Even without the trauma he has surrounding that, after all the other rejections of course Stolas is going to take Blitz mocking him as another rejection. He didn't think Blitz was confused, because he thinks he's made his feelings pretty damn clear for ages now, and that's why he said he had his answer and was trying to leave before he started crying - which most people hate to do, because crying in front of other people is often a mortifying experience.

"STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn"

He wasn't dismissing Blitz. He super fucking did not. He wanted to be alone so he could go cry his guts out, and Blitz was scaring him by getting angry and slamming open doors. That's not dismissing someone, that's going into panic mode. He wasn't treating him like a servant, if he was he would have been bored and unaffected and told him to go. He. Was. Scared. He was hurt and humiliated and scared and Blitz was chasing him down and yelling at him. It's not playing the victim to be scared and it's not playing the victim when your feelings get mocked and you want to get away from the person who just stomped all over your heart.

Blitz's reactions make sense from his end, and absolutely he was being triggered too - he was in fact the one triggered first, though that too was by accident. Yes, his anger was justified and he had every right to express it when he felt he wasn't being listened to. Yes, he wasn't intending to scare Stolas. Yes, Stolas has messed up and hurt Blitz in numerous ways over the course of the series. But my god, that does not mean that Stolas' feelings and reactions are any less justified and reasonable.

It was equal on both sides. They both equally fucked up. They both accidentally hurt and triggered each other. They both were scared. Stolas sending Blitz away was the only thing he could think of to de-escalate the situation, because Blitz was actively trying to pick a fight and Stolas had no idea that Blitz would stop just because he started crying (you think anyone else has ever stopped just because he cried? We literally see both Stella and Paimon mock him for it, and Stolas isn't exactly in a rational sort of mindset here).

Are you really, honestly, truly telling me that you would be fine just standing there and letting someone who just hurt you scream at you in a way that reminded you of both your domestic abuser and the person who recently tried to murder and mutilate you? Are you kidding me? You have completely misinterpreted everything Stolas has said and done in those two episodes by refusing to look at it with any amount of sympathy or compassion and immediately jumping to the worst possible scenario.

"Stolas shouldn't have portalled out Blitz during Full Moon" this and "Stolas should have stuck around and listened to Blitz in the garden during Apology Tour" that. Do y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that a domestic abuse victim stick around when someone is yelling at and insulting them? And on the flip side of that, do the other half of y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that someone, particularly someone from an oppressed group, never get loud or demonstrably angry just because it might scare someone?

Like Blitz had every right to air his grievances in Full Moon, and being angry when you're treated poorly is a perfectly normal, reasonable response. It's not inherently abusive to yell and stomp when you get mad, and it's completely unreasonable to say that Blitz is just because he did. But at the same time, Stolas does not have to sit there and take being yelled at when he's already had to suffer though someone doing it to him maliciously for at least 17 years. He does not have to take being grabbed, being screamed at, or having his clearly stated boundaries ignored either, like at the beginning of Apology Tour. Him getting upset when someone does that to him, when he's only just gotten away from his abuser and was almost murdered for it, is not some failing on his part or him playing the victim.

Blitz's trauma doesn't care that Stolas wasn't actually going to abandon Blitz, and it doesn't care that that the hurtful things Stolas has said and done have come largely from a place of ignorance rather than a lack of care. He's protecting himself the only way he knows how and is blinded by the sheer intensity and longevity of his self-loathing, but frankly it was a good thing for him to finally speak up about how some of the things Stolas does makes him feel, and it's a very good thing that he's actually trying to fight to keep Stolas rather than just booking it and throwing a grenade behind him on the way out.

Just like Stolas' trauma doesn't care if he knows Blitz is different than Stella and wouldn't actually hurt him, and it doesn't care that Blitz's anger comes from a hurt, scared, and traumatized place as opposed to the pleasure Stella took in hurting and scaring him. Stolas hasn't had any time to even begin to heal from the damage she did to him, and frankly if he's scared and breaking down like in Full Moon it's actually a step up if he's removing himself from whoever is triggering him, even if it wasn't fair to Blitz who was, in his own way, attempting to work things out.

Neither of them is the bad guy here, they're just very reasonably upset and having clashing trauma responses. You can be compassionate and understanding of both sides without saying that either of them should have to just sit there and take it when someone is greatly upsetting them. It's normal to get angry when you're scared and upset, and it's normal to cry and run away when you're scared and upset, and neither are wrong or bad just because in the moment when emotions were running high they each did several things that accidently set the other off, especially when they had no way of knowing it was a trigger beforehand.

None of this is say that the way things shook out was great or productive, and they definitely need to work on healing so that they're not letting their fear and trauma control them. If they're going to get to place of real understanding, then at some point these two need to sit down with the intent to talk things out and have an honest and open conversation with each other, without Blitz yelling or Stolas running or either of them letting their preconceived assumptions and biases get in the way of actually listening. Blitz needs to not self-sabotage and Stolas needs to not shut down, and that's going to be really fucking hard for both of them, because that's how they've been coping with their trauma for literal decades.

And to his major credit, Blitz got it right at the end of Apology Tour, the only thing he got wrong was the timing because Stolas was so drunk that I'll be honestly surprised if he remembers most of it in the morning. He wasn't in any state of mind to listen or pay attention, but at the same time, to his credit he's already been reflecting on what Blitz has been saying to him and trying to figure out where and how he fucked up and hurt Blitz. And also, he kept saying things like "right now", which means he will be ready to talk things out eventually if he's just given a little bit of space to put himself back together and think about things.

And guys, please. Just because some people will start crying to try to manipulate and guilt trip those around them whenever someone gets upset at something they did, doesn't make that what Stolas did. He was trying to get away so Blitz wouldn't see him cry. And just because some people like to fly off the handle and rage at every perceived infraction, doesn't make that what Blitz did. He had justifiable cause to be angry and in Full Moon he didn't think Stolas was listening, so he tried to make himself louder and bigger in an attempt to make himself be heard and his hurt be acknowledged. If one of their reactions made you uncomfortable, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that. But the story isn't about those kinds of people, it's about two fictional demons who aren't trying to hurt or manipulate each other, they're just struggling to juggle trauma, ignorance, and the desire to be together. They're not able to yet, but that's what character arcs are for.

And just to head off any comments on it: no, the narrative is not villifying Blitz and it's not babying Stolas or trying to sweep any of the shit he's done under the rug. Blitz being angry and self-destructive doesn't make him a villain, and Stolas crying a few times and still being pretty ignorant of how he's come across doesn't mean they're trying to say he's done nothing wrong.

[the-crimson]

(All talk about the characters not the ccs)

I’m finally watching bbh’s June 19th stream (day after Father’s Day) and he’s talking about removing everyone’s access to his base. I’ve seen people talking about how this could cause problems and lose him Forever and Bagerah’s trust but I think people - including Forever and Bagerah - are forgetting a crucial fact

Bbh is a single parent and has been from the start.

He has to be incredibly paranoid to keep Dapper safe. His paranoia is the only reason Dapper -and many of the other eggs - are still alive.

He can’t rely on other people to keep Dapper safe. He can’t tell Dapper to go live with another parent if his house is compromised. That’s why he has five different houses and keeps building more when too many people gain access.

I don’t think Forever or Bagerah have a right to complain about this considering they have 3/4 other parents/houses to keep their egg safe. They have a family structure that allows them a sense of safety that bbh has NEVER had.

Like yea, I understand why they would feel betrayed but from an objective pov, they have zero ground to stand on to protest because they have NO idea what bbh has gone through raising dapper alone, how could they? They have always had 3/4 other parents at their beck and call.

Trust doesn’t mean letting someone run rampantly through your house/safe space just because they feel entitled to it. Trust means having faith that if bbh is closing off his/Dapper’s house to you, he has a legitimate reason that doesn’t have anything to do with you personally.

Bbh has done so much for team friendship and taken down so many of his walls and boundaries for them that the fact THEY don’t have faith in him makes me sad. I trust team friendship and the q-ommunication smp to work everything out but I just hope Bagerah and Forever come to respect bbh’s boundaries a bit more :D

[fleetsonourgecentral]

So how do you think Scourge would handle the events of the fugitive arc of STCO?

To give context, some guy (a wolf named Kane) starts tearing down him in the media by bringing up stuff like "he created Robotnik, he transforms into Super Sonic, he's a bit of a dick (even if everyone already knows that so people don't pay attention to this part)" which makes almost everyone in Mobius but his friends hate him, then after a while there's some mega mack bombings across the zones and Sonic tries to figure out who it was but gets knocked out by a sneak attack and his friends get attacked too and then the attacker reveals itself to be "Sonic", Sonic tries to stop one of the missiles but they set him up and cut off the Kintobor computer while he was helping him disarm it so it explodes, he's arrested and when his friends (Amy, Knuckles and Tails) come to bust him out "Sonic" attacks the and left them to die (though they survive obviously) and escapes, later it's revealed he's the the Metallix Mark IV (basically the Neo Metal Sonic of the Metallix) who framed Sonic for all those crimes and swapped him after they run all kind tests in him to confirm it is him so everyone does think Sonic did all that, Sonic manages to escape the volcano he trapped him in and gets Metallix destroyed by the Lava, then right after that Grimer appears as an hologram (because he is in another dimension were Sonic can't get to him) and tells him he's behind all of it because he drove Robotnik crazy, so he seeked revenge and made Sonic despised by everyone to the point he had to leave the planet.

And Sonic does try to leave after not finding anything to prove his innocence, but Robotnik comes back so he decides to stay and help, but has to do it while being a fugitive hated by everyone with the exception of Tails...

Kay sorry for the wall of text, I tried to get the important bits (or what I think are the important bits), it's hard to explain it to people who haven't read it.

Oh man oh man. So like. I know it would be really sweet and whatever to believe Scourge would believe in Sonic no matter what, but honestly? I think he'd fall for it. Scourge is used to betrayal, he grew up around it. Betrayal was expected on Moebius, the only way to ensure loyalty is through fear, and Scourge has to actively work to trust people won't betray him at the slightest convenience. It doesn't come easily to him. Trusting Sonic is a choice he makes every day, built on the foundation that Sonic has - somehow, against all odds - proved he has no interest in betraying Scourge. It helps a little that Sonic is upfront about it when he doesn't like someone - Scourge is used to people being rude or cruel, and Sonic is so, so fucking rude, which, to Scourge, is a symbol of honesty - but it still isn't easy. It still takes work. And as nice as it would be to believe Scourge would believe in Sonic's innocence against all odds, in reality, I feel like his predisposition to be prepared for betrayal would actually just make the situation hit even harder. He doesn't, and never will, have the endless faith and trust in his friends that other Sonics have. Letting his guard down is a conscious choice, and one he'll revoke at any time if he feels threatened

So as for the fugitive arc? I think it would hit Scourge, and hit Scourge hard. The initial stuff wouldn't bother him - what does he care if Sonic created Robotnik? If he can turn into Super? And the whole reason Scourge likes him at all is because he's a dick. Being attacked would make him hesitate, but it's not the first time someone has impersonated Sonic to ruin his reputation, so he cautiously holds out hope. But after all the tests "confirm" it really is him? Any hope he has shatters. He doesn't care about what happens to Mobius, but he does care about their relationship. To hear Sonic never actually cared about him, that he was being played for a fool (which, from what you described, I imagine is the angle the Metallix would go for during the whole "attacks them and leaves them to die" thing) would be a deep, deep wound. He trusts Sonic more than he's ever trusted anyone, and this is how he's repaid? Stupid. He should have known this Sonic would be no different than all the rest. He should have known better. He never should have let his guard down

Needless to say, he wouldn't take it well. He'd lash out. Yell at Tails for being an idiot for continuing to believe in Sonic's innocence. By this point he's probably developed enough of a relationship with the rest of the freedom fighters to still consider them... if not friends, then at least allies. They were attacked too, after all, and they're angry, just like him. But he'd pull back from them, become a little harsher, more on guard around them in case they betray him, too. Maybe he'd even take over the position of leadership, although I'm sure he would butt heads with Amy over that whenever they disagree on something, and those disagreements would be far worse than her disagreements with Sonic, because Scourge is hurting and is, at all times, two steps away from completely revoking his trust in everyone, so any disagreement from Amy feels like a personal attack and a potential warning sign to him

He'd probably try to hunt Sonic down. Idk what the priorities of the rest of the freedom fighters are - probably trying to un-fuck the world - but his priority is definitely getting revenge. It's probably one of the biggest reasons he clashes with Amy when they don't agree on how to lead the rest of the freedom fighters, and could even lead to him going off on his own if he's challenged one too many times by her. Scourge the Hedgehog doesn't take betrayal lying down. He gets his revenge no matter what

(It's made worse by the fact his anger and hurt don't erase the fact he still loves Sonic. Loving Sonic is habit, and those feelings don't go away so easily. Betrayal isn't enough to erase them, and the fact that they still exist makes him feel like his feelings are betraying him, too. He's hoping that getting revenge and being angry will crush the feelings he has for someone who no longer deserves them. It's why he can't slow down, can't stop, can't control his anger like everyone is asking him to. If he does that, he'll keep loving Sonic, and he doesn't want to do that after Sonic hurt him so badly)

TLDR: he wouldn't handle the events of the fugitive arc at all

[asweetprologue]

at first I thought that the game had sold my house to some random woman (thank u Clavia for sweeping but you scared the shit outta me) and then I was relieved to know that it was still link's, but then you get inside and all the stuff has been replaced w Zelda's stuff and her journal is in the bedroom and her secret well is down below. I know a bunch of people have said like oh they were living together and I thought that too at first (despite the one bed), but the more I hang around the village the more I'm convinced that Link just gave Zelda his house and kinda fucked off a little. it would go a long way towards explaining how everyone knows zelda but no one knows Link (though that seems to be a common theme), but the greatest evidence imo is when you talk to one of the kids from the school who's waiting for Zelda to return near the house. she asks link if he's going to "zelda's house" and says that zelda often leaves the village but always quickly returns. it seems based on this and the interior décor that the house now firmly belongs to zelda, and link was maybe a non presence in the village after the events of the first game. I wonder if he gave her the house as something of a retreat, a place where she could be alone and recover while also being close to Purah - one of the few other people she knows from Before - and the lab. meanwhile it doesn't seem like there's any space made for link in the house or the village. idk what it all means but I do have enormous feelings about Link giving up the one space that was really his so that zelda could have a home again after hers was destroyed

[radicalrascals]

"I'm not the guy you thought I was either. We're even," Gabriel shrugged. A strange sadness behind his forced mien of levity. Perhaps there was no one out there who truly knew who he was. Well, perhaps Steven. Yet Steven didn't know he was here, with a hostage and a bunch of dirty money he'd stolen from some scumbag gangster for some other scumbag gangster. A frown. Then his face lit up. Wait a second. Nobody knew who he was. Yeah. Not even the assholes who betrayed him! This was their only chance of taking him out, the only time they could have set a trap. If he got out of here, he was truly free. Well... if... though suddenly Gabriel's thoughts were cut off by the blood curdling scream.

Paulo nearly went down, his knees giving in, the distant scream resonating in his very soul all that much louder. He didn't know whether the table or Detective Matos or his own stubbornness prevented his fall, but somehow - miraculously - Paulo was still standing. "You get whatever you need, Matos, I'll sign it off. Caralho, I will pay for it with my own money if I have to." He would have traded places with Vic in a heartbeat too. He promised he'd look after him and now he couldn't even lead this mission. Just a nervous wreck, struggling with panic. "I know your file inside and out," he tried to look Theo in the eyes, but averted his gaze quickly when he felt the tears stinging, "It's your operation now." A thousand praises hidden between the lines. And Colmilho put all his faith and trust in Theo. His best man. The one who had to suffer so much, because Colmilho knew he could be even better. "Don't give the kill order. There's two of them. I think. I don't know."

When the scream died down, Gabriel handed the bottle of Mezcal to Vic, looking seemingly impressed. "I can still make you scream, huh? Here, take a swig. Savour the burn. Just don't empty it yet. I need it to give this shithole a deep clean." He took a quick look around, then his gaze went back to Vic. "Thank you. Seriously. That was mighty impressive. Potentially bought us... me some time."

"Yeah, whatever. Never saw it coming myself either, but I guess a lot of things have changed for me. I'm not the same guy you used to know, Gabe..." Vic gave a small shrug of his shoulders, leaning back in the chair with a slight sigh. Oh how Gabriel had no idea just what a dead man walking he was, given that the man he loved was a damn delegado da polícia federal... The sweet irony. "I've known him since we were kids. He was my best friend but we lost touch... My fault, really. I fucked up, but somehow life found it funny to bring us together again now that I'm on the straight and narrow... Well, completely not straight but definitely narrow." A weak smile came over his lips, not wanting to mention that Paulo was in law enforcement; didn't need to piss him off even more.

Back outside, Theo watched the delegado as he observed the footage, seeing the way he visibly changed his entire demeanour. Something was wrong, so very very wrong, and when he heard Colmilho not only reveal that he knew who the hostage was but that he was working with their side, his stomach sank. It was never a good situation to have to fight for an innocent life, but when that life was one of their own... But oh... Oh, how things got so much worse. The words that the delegado uttered caught him completely off guard, the fact that he was handing over leadership on this made him wonder if the man had truly lost his mind or if he simply just didn't hate him quite as much as he thought. But then came the confession that followed, the revelation that the man who was being held at gunpoint was... This just got a lot more complicated.

Theo reached out and placed a hand nervously on Colmilho's shoulder, nodding his head. "Take some time. We're going to get him back to you, sir. I promise." It was a promise that made him feel sick, memories of his fuck up back in his negotiating days rushing to tell him that he couldn't guarantee it, but he wouldn't let this man lose anything else.

Watching the clock inside, Vic saw the hands hit the ten minute mark and he groaned, leaning forwards with his head in his hands before letting out a blood curdling scream.

[lisbonsteresa]

they make me so

[yellowocaballero]

I just realized b&l was Brad and luida and not some other obscure terminology... I feel dumb now (and sad that while knives was growing up w parents vash just had Conrad... Somewhere out there is an au where both twins get to grow up with Brad and luida... Tho idk if both would survive the process... 😨)

EXTREMELY LATE REPLY SRY

Vash is partly Like That because nobody has ever told him 'no' in his life. Rem and Knives were indulgent, Conrad pulled an Alfred and never saw himself as Vash's parent despite being the only adult a little kid had and as such never tried to discipline him or control his behavior, and the GHG are all yes-men who worship him. Vash is spoiled and gets whatever he wants, and expects himself to get whatever he wants. You have to contrast the entitlement to canon Knives, who also gets what he wants because nobody can tell him no. I wanted to make it clear that 14yo Knives was very close to being the actual, canon Knives - that he was a murderous jerk who hated humans and thought they were a scourge on humanity too. Knives is good instead of bad because of B&L & the choices he made, just like Vash is bad instead of good because of Conrad & the justifications he gave himself.

All that to say - B&L would have absolutely prevented Vash from going so bad. They couldn't have stopped the voices, but they could have taught him how to cope with them and make the right choices. Humanity's biggest problem could have been averted if Brad just grounded him. It was important to me to establish that Vash didn't do the things he did because he was sick, because that's a super shitty message to send - he did what he did because he wanted to hurt people, and decided to believe whatever he needed to believe that would allow him to keep hurting people.

But yes, Vash was a troubled kid who deserved a B&L. Vash's story is ultimately a very sad one. It's why I couldn't bring myself to kill him - it wouldn't have been satisfying at all to punish him so ultimately. Even if he probably deserved it. Thanks for reading & the ask!!!

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

analyzing hermes, emet-selch, the ancients and ascians, how they're written, and the fandom's reaction to them be like hm. emet-selch's role in this fuckery is compounded by the fact that his backstory as a genocide survivor is incongruous with his ruling a huge genocidal colonialist world power in the present da [ANTISEMITISM BLAST]

[syncast-err0r]

i need to write a slasher x reader thing where they don't actually love u n are just using u for their own gain bc I'm way too into that n there's -69000000 content on it </3

[sassmill]

I can take malice. I can understand malice. Malice is obvious and has actual intention. What I cannot fucking stand is being uncomfortable with upsetting people and lying to your part-time employees and dumping the hard part on me after explicitly agreeing to break the bad news for me since it was YOU that handed down the decision that throws a bunch of hard work out the window and screws over our employees, NOT ME.

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats

[endlessthxxghts]

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

masterlist | notifs blog

“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up. 

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?” 

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.” 

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you. 

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 

Fuck. 

“Why?” He asks defensively. 

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?” 

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

[artist-issues]

If you haven’t seen Wish yet and you love Disney, do not go see it. I am telling you now. It is ripping out the hearts of the Disney movies you love and then waving their corpses around as if celebrating those hearts.

I’ll explain why, again: the message of Wish? Awful. Anti-Disney.

But they've been doing this for a long time. Saying one thing with their movies, and saying another with their PR and Disney Parks Soundtracks.

I'll explain.

Main Idea of Disney's Wish (and the You Are the Magic theme park song and merch): "The power to make your wishes come true is in you."

≠

Most Disney Movies' Idea on How to Have Wishes: "Do what's right, (trust a higher power) and something even more wonderful than what you wished will happen."

Don't try to argue with me about this. You have to look underneath the slogans and the sweater designs and the song titles to what the stories actually support to acknowledge this.

Because you can’t say “do what’s right” has power unless you answer the question “who gets to decide ‘what’s right?’” (Which, coincidentally, is a question Wish brings up and then doesn’t answer.)

Audiences of Disney used to accept that wishing on a star was much like prayer; there’s something you long for, and it’s out of your hands, but you wish for it and you do what you know is right in the meantime. And you’re not crushed, you’re not downhearted, because somewhere in your mind you trust that the combo of those two things—wishing on a higher power and diligence to do what’s good—will be what makes your wish come true.

Trust in a higher power—COMBINED WITH:

—diligence to do what’s good.

The Blue Fairy (higher power) gave Geppetto his wish specifically because he had demonstrated commitment to do good, whether he got what he wanted or not. The Fairy Godmother (higher power) gave Cinderella her wish specifically because she kept on being kind and good to low creatures like mice and wicked stepsisters, whether she got what she wanted or not.

Do you know why that combo (higher power + diligence to do good) is impactful? Timeless? Important?

Because it’s selfless. You want something, but you’re not going to sacrifice doing the right thing to get it. You’re not going to focus so hard on making what you want a reality, on your own, that you miss out on things that could be more important than what you want. And, you’re not so self-focused as to believe that if you don’t do it, it won’t get done.

Jeez, that’s the whole point of The Princess and the Frog!

Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant, and she believes that only her own hard work will grant that wish. She misunderstands her dad’s advice before he dies. She isn’t willing to trust a higher power combined with her own diligence to do good—she only trusts her own ability.

It’s not until she realizes that Ray, the character of faith, was right all along that she learns—what she wished for was too self-focused. It wasn’t complete without love. Something bigger than herself. And getting that was never going to happen just based on her own hard work.

But you know what? It was never going to happen just by a “higher-power” flavored shortcut, either. Because Facilier offers her her wish if she’ll just trust him, no hard work needed. But what does she say?

Trust in a higher power + diligence to do what’s right = selflessness, and getting more than you could have ever wished for. And if your wish is selfish, doing those two things will change your wish into something selfless.

More examples? Get ‘em while they’re hot, in case Wish made you forget, just like the current #NotMyDisney executives have forgotten, what real Disney wishes are for.

Belle wishes to have adventures in the great wide somewhere--but when she's imprisoned and that chance is taken from her it's not reversed because she worked hard to make her wish come true. It's granted because she gave up her wish for her father: she just did the right thing, regardless of her wish. And in the end, she does get what she wished for, which is adventure in an enchanted castle...and much more, because she gets true love, a throne, and a castle full of friends.

How about the One Who Started It All? The one Wish is failing to pay genuine tribute to?

Snow White wishes for someone to love her, and he does--but when they're separated, she does not exercise power to make The Prince come back to her. Instead, she loves who she can where she’s at—the Dwarfs. In the meantime, she has faith that he will keep his promise, and that pure trust in a higher power outside of her control is a big contributing factor to why the Dwarfs come to love her, and learn from her...and in the end, even more than she could've wished happens. He does take her to his castle, but she also has seven new friends who also love her, and the Queen is dead. And she didn’t need to use “the power in her” to work harder and get it done. She just needed to not focus so much on herself at all.

How about a male main character? One who’s wish starts out selfish, but after learning to wish on a higher power and be diligent to do the right thing, gets more than he could wish for?

Aladdin wishes to be somebody different (somebody he believes Jasmine could love, somebody who lives in a palace and is respected and “never has any troubles at all.”)—but doing everything in his own power for that wish proves that it was selfish all along; so he switches to doing the right thing, regardless of if his wish comes true, and he gets even more than he could’ve wished. He gets real love with Jasmine, he gets his friend Genie, and he gets to be free from feeling “trapped” because he doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore.

Or Simba?

Simba wishes to get to do whatever he wants as King—but when Mufasa dies and he’s convinced it’s his fault, it isn’t for that wish that he goes back to Pride Rock to confront his past and his Uncle. It’s because he had an encounter with a higher power—his father—that helped him to realize his wish was selfish all along. He gives up the selfish wish, and he goes back to take his place as king, not so he can do whatever he wants, but so that he can take self-sacrificial responsibility that comes with ruling. And because he just does the right thing, finally, he gets more than what he wished for.

How about something more recent? Zootopia.

Judy wishes to make the world a better place by proving she can be what she wants to be and catching bad guys—but when she tries to make her wish happen on her own, in her own abilities, she fails and is forced to realize that she should’ve been looking for help by understanding “bad guys,” like Nick. It’s only after she humbled herself, admits she’s wrong, and changes her wish from “proving I can be what I want and catching bad guys” to “proving that understanding each other makes the world a better place” (much less self-focused) that her wish comes true—and so much more. She does make the world a better place, and she does get to catch bad guys, but she also gets to befriend one who was a good guy all along, and become all-around more effective at her dream job.

This is how Disney always has been. Because it’s at the heart of good storytelling, and even life (not to get too dramatic.)

The power is not in you. Because it’s not about you. Self-sacrifice, faith, and doing the next right thing regardless of if you get your heart’s fondest desire is what makes more than just your wishes come true. And there has to be belief in a higher power to make that message powerful.

But Wish?

Not only is it bad at showing instead of telling. Not only is it lazy and soulless.

But it’s characters rip the Star out of the sky and say “don’t wish on this. Wish on yourself, to get what you wish for. You don’t need a higher power. You don’t even need to sacrifice to do what’s good—whatever you do is good, because you are the one doing it.”

That is wrong. That is not true, and it is not powerful. There’s no sacrifice in focusing on or placing your trust totally in yourself, and it undoes every good thing Disney has done up until now.

And it undoes it on the 100th anniversary, and it flaunts Easter eggs of the very things it’s undoing.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon. 

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role. 

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention. 

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps. 

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect. 

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious. 

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject. 

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words. 

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head. 

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.  

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined. 

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking. 

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.  

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right? 

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple. 

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered. 

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. 

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind. 

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body. 

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust. 

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect. 

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well. 

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high. 

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss. 

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response. 

A bath sounds nice.

[haerni]

[ ♥︎ ] ── drunkenly in love  |  lhs.

in which heeseung comes to you with stupid smiles, slurred words ‘nd with tipsy thoughts of you.

content : fem reader , fluff , intoxication , drunk hee! , petnames , wc. 811 , minimal proofread . hes a lil bit clingy & a loser but hes charming ! ><

notes. videos of heeseung giggling while drunk is actually cute like omg i will bite u

“hi, baby.”

heeseung smiles at you like you have just saved the world and frankly, maybe you did in another universe—maybe you did not, either way heeseung adores you with any shape or form that he could muster up.

and his smile is contagious, muttering off into the night his eyes fluttering as he shift his weight on his right leaning to the door frame of your home with jay beside him on his left assisting him in fear of him falling on his own weight.

jay smiles apologetically, “the guys kept giving him drinks. he kept losing in the game, to be honest.” he says as he tries to keep your boyfriend upright. “sorry, yn. he kept saying he should see you and he wouldn’t stop whining.”

you crinkle at the thought, “it’s okay. thank you for bringing him home safe.” you waved off. “you should go, i’m pretty sure jake is vomiting out.. the window?”

you hear a curse leaving from his mouth, panicking as he looks back into the car.

“shit. i’m really sorry, again. gotta get those guys home.” he sighs exasperatedly.

a giggle escapes you, bidding the man goodbyes and a well safe travel. taking heeseung from his arms and from your door frame, your boyfriend drapes himself over you. a strong smell of liquor comes from him, making you scrunch away a little from the scent. he hums from the contact instantly melting over you.

“you smell so good,” he muttered, nuzzling into your head. “i’ve missed you, pretty.”

“you got pretty drunk, huh?” a lilt in your tone tells him you’re not all too mad at him. not really finding any reason to do so, you figured he deserves to loosen up a little bit and have fun with the guys.

he only nods thoughtlessly, dragging himself inside your home all the way to your shared bedroom with you by his side. he plops down the mattress as he lays there smacking his lips and frowning trying to relieve the reeling of his head.

“i should get you some water. stay here, ‘seungie.” untangling yourself from him, you stand making your way outside, but not even a step forward a hand wraps up to your wrist forcing you to stay on your spot.

“where are you going?” he looks a little like a lost deer under the warm lights, his eyes sharing the same shine. “don’t go.” a pout resides on his lips as he tries to keep himself up from the bed.

“i’m just getting you water, you need to stay hydrated, hee.” you try to reason with him.

“‘m fine, just stay here.” he tugs you to him.

you try to resist, standing your ground into getting him some water, but his grip on you only stays as you move some more.

in your endeavor of keeping your boyfriend hydrated has somehow ended up with you losing your balance and him dragging you to lay by his side of the bed with his arms encased around you. you huffed, accepting your faith and would have to get him something in the morning (you can only trust that jay has already took care of him and managed to get him to drink something other than alcohol in his system.)

heeseung hums pleased, feeling your body against his as the night descends upon his mind and eyes. a semblance of comfort takes him with your warmth that he recognizes. admitting defeat you let yourself be engulfed with heeseung’s embrace.

it’s quiet.

but you don’t mind, you bask in it and so does heeseung. his fingers trail over your skin, drawing random patterns of anything just to feel you. the night strolls a little slower now.

“..hey,” heeseung whispers softly.

you grin at him, you couldn’t help it. after all it was heeseung, it was just him, but it was enough for the butterflies finding themselves in your stomach, “hey, you too.”

there was something in the way his cheeks are all in a soft cherry color and that dopey smile that adorns his face whenever he drinks a little too much than he would take, was just endearing to you. and his eyes just flutter more and his face breaks out from adoration—you couldn’t fall just a little more than you already did.

“i love you.” he did so, breathing it as if a prayer he utters every night. “i love you so much— god, you probably have no idea, baby.”

it’s desperation that you yearn just as the same, and maybe the simplicity of it, was everything all at once that was enough for you. your eyes find his once more as they hold sincerity that can rival how deep the ocean can go.

“i love you too, hee.” you whispered just as the same. “more than yesterday, less than tomorrow.”

© haerni 2024 . likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated!