#usually try to finish within a week or two or i get bored
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punkranger · 7 months ago
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WIP Wednesday
I was tagged by @gingerbreton and @eydika and maybe someone else that i couldn't find in my notifs. Anyway, I have too many wips rn and have shared most of them but um.. here's one I haven't shared yet
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tagging: ginger and eydi right back, @kittlesandbugs, @night-triumphantt, @griever-receiver, @the-rebel-archivist
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pink-onyx-au · 1 year ago
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[Jump to the Episode Master List]
[Looking for something? Jump to the Archive] (Browser Only)
Nap time! Thank you everyone for your continued support and interaction! I adore it and it adds so much more to the AU than you could know. This is a heads up on some minor down-time for the blog while I rest up and prepare the next episode.
Notes and asks are still open and encouraged during this time! Bored and want to chat? Send me a message!
To see some WIP, storyboard previews, doodles, shitposts, and other projects I’m working on, along with a healthy amount of 3am memes, head over to my trash fire blog, Ceephor’s Shit Show. The "pink onyx au" tag will filter everything for you, along with showing you fabulous fan art made by others that I just love to pieces.
Speculation and theories are encouraged! The comic is designed as close to the show’s logic as I could muster, which means many secrets are staring right at you, provided you know what to look for! Just be kind to one another.
Comic FAQ:
What is this?
Pink Onyx AU is a Steven Universe AU focused on interactions between Steven and Jasper and is intended to be read after you have finished Steven Universe Future, as it contains many many spoilers for the series. If you have watched it already, great! Welcome! The goal is to bring you a Jasper redemption arc that we couldn’t get due to time and cooperate restraints on the Crewniverse. I hope you enjoy!
I do not own these characters or their likenesses except for the single fluffy thembo fusion I created for the story. This is just a fan comic.
Comic is PG-13 for some angsty/touchy themes, minor blood, violence, and gem-cussing. Touchy-subjects will always be in a cartoon-ish metaphorical representation you would likely find on TV and be available for multiple interpretations.
When do you post?
Typically when you see this post pinned, I’m on a bit of a break, but when Nyx wakes up (this post goes away) the comic is due to be released 1 page at a time at 7am EST most days. I try for a daily release. Sometimes I skip a day if I’m behind. Episode release dates are always announced ahead of time by a few weeks.
Is this a romantic ship AU between Jasper and Steven?
Nope, more like an aunt and her nephew trying to figure it all out. No romance between these two here.
Is your Tapas updated at the same time?
Nope, tumblr comes first, and the tumblr will always have bonus content which Tapas will not. The Tapas for this updates after the tumblr version is completed. Usually same day or within a day.
Do you have a reference for Onyx? Sure do!
How do I use the ask system for this blog?
You can leave a message, or even an object, for the characters to interact with. The asks you leave can be answered by myself, Onyx, Steven or Jasper within the realm of this AU. Your asks will have no effect on the comic story. Think of it like the actors are in their dressing rooms and you get to give them a poke while they take a break! As the comic story progresses, their replies to your answers may change! Their responses will be in-character depending on where in the story we are.
My note by the den (an ask) was never answered. How come?
Lots and lots of asks come in every day. I wish I could answer them all! Since I draw something to go with most answers, especially the character ones, they do take a bit of time. Sometimes, I get duplicates of the same ask, or an ask that may refer to something that spoils the story if I answer it. I might hang onto those asks for a later time! Or group them into categories to answer all at once. I hoard asks for 1 year in an attempt to get to them. If I missed yours, know I tried and I love them anyway! I hope it does not discourage you in the future.
Curious about the characters? Check below the cut for more a detailed FAQ about the inner workings of the story. Love you all! See you soon! 🧡💕❤️
FAQ’s about the characters generated via interactive asks:
What kind of fusion is Pink Onyx? Are they good or bad? Pink Onyx is a fusion of a protagonist and an antagonist, so their alliance is yet unknown, but they have Steven’s good heart and Jasper’s loyal nature. They also have Steven and Jasper’s flaws, so they can be volatile and emotionally explosive at times, too.
What are Pink Onyx’s pronouns? Onyx likes they/them, but also answers to he/him and she/her, especially when Steven or Jasper is dominant over one another. They also seem to take on a fluid role and prefer a she/her when in a caretaker status. They dislike it/its.
What does Pink Onyx sound like? Personally, I hear them as a youthful, masculine tone. Like Steven if a little older. But I also enjoy when people say they hear them as a gruff, Amazonian-type feminine. I enjoy and endorse both.
Do Jasper and Steven enjoy being fused to one another? For now, it is a struggle, but they enjoy what the other brings to the fusion even if they won’t say it.
Does Pink Onyx need to eat and do human things? If so, do they enjoy it? They don’t need to do them, but they do feel the discomfort without them. Things like breathing, eating, and sleeping are optional for Onyx, but they will become quite irritable if not allowed to do them. They greatly enjoy sleeping and trying new foods.
What does Jasper think about having human organs when fused? She’s pretty grossed out by the idea of organic matter going into her mouth and coming out of other places. The heart beating and lungs breathing she can feel for the first time, and it is highly strange for her to experience.
What is Pink Onyx’s favorite food? They adore anything watermelon flavored and Cookie-cat ice cream products
Does Pink Onyx have any special fusion powers? They do, and as they learn about themselves, more powers seem to come out. Each of their base component appears to be enhanced in a unique way. They have Pink Diamond at their core, so the destructive potential is also there.
Why is Steven hiding Pink Onyx from others? This AU occurs directly after the events of "I Am My Monster", so Steven is very emotionally, and mentally, raw. He fears judgement for running back to Jasper, who in the past, was part of so much trauma he already endured.
Pink Onyx seems to know nothing about human culture and gem culture despite being a fusion. What’s going on? Jasper and Steven agreed to fuse, but they have yet to open up to one another about much else. The fusion exists because they agree to do so, but Jasper won’t open up about her emotions, and Steven is so sensitive yet that he is not sharing because he knows Jasper won’t want to hear it. This causes Onyx to be unable to access both of their memories easily, but they can bring it out with enough effort.
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the-oblivious-writer · 1 year ago
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Let the Light In |3|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Chapter Three: Nosy Friends and Conflicting Feelings
Summary: You and Tara have been seeing a lot of each other for school purposes. One weekend you're away and Tara has the urge to bother you. This leads to teasing and...confusing thoughts
Warning(s): Swearing, Tara pleading the fifth & mentions of death
Notes: My motivation has been going up and down these past two weeks but I finally finished this chapter so here ya go. Hope it's not shit
Masterlist|Previous part|Next Part
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“What exactly are we doing here?” you asked.
Tara was leading you to the roof of her apartment building without saying much—which is strange for her. “I’m bored and we have an exam to prepare for. We’re multitasking,” she finally said while opening a door and walking out on the roof.
“And what’s so great about the roof?”
“I need fresh air. Any more questions, Shitlock?” She raised an eyebrow at you while sending you an unimpressed look.
“Someone’s poutier than usual today,” you said. You took your binder out of your bag as Tara already began on her work. 
“Just focus on your dork binder, dork,” she quipped and slouched in her seat, tucking her knees to her chest and raising the height of her notebook.
You rolled your eyes back to your binder. “Sure,” you said in a monotone voice. You were flipping through the various folders when a thought crossed your mind. The thought had you glancing at Tara, a small, downward smile appeared on your face.
“What?”
“Nothin.’” You quickly turned back to look at your notes. 
“No. What?” she repeated, sitting up.
You looked at her again, your same smile from before threatening to cross your face. “I was just thinking—” you shut your binder, “—this is the perfect place to chuck water balloons at people.”
Tara looked at the edge before returning her eyes to you. “Damn, I should’ve thought of that first,” she said with a reluctant smile. You could see her dimples. She looked… radiant—
“—Don’t beat yourself up,” you said with a wink, edging her on.
She laughed. “Yeah, whatever. You can get back to your dumb binder now.”
You laid one of your hands over your heart. “My binder is not dumb. It keeps things organized and neat.”
“It also keeps girls away,” she stated.
“Your sister doesn’t seem to mind,” you were quick to counter with.
Tara immediately shoved your shoulder. “Can you not?”
“The heart wants what it wants,” you joked.
“You know what?” She stood up. “I’m going inside. Climb your way down for all I care.“
It wasn’t until she shut the door that her words sunk in.
“Wait—what?”
Did the door just click?
You walked up to the door before trying to open it. You turned and shook the handle, but it was no use. 
“She locked me out on the fuckin’ roof.”
Tara knocked your apartment door three times. The door opened to reveal Anika. 
“Hey, Tara. What’s up?” she greeted her with a smile.
Tara reciprocated Anika’s smile before responding. “Hey—I think I left my headphone charger here the last time I was over. Could I take a look around?”
“Of course, come in.” Anika opened the door wider, giving room for Tara to walk in.
She walked over to the couch before digging her hands between the cushions. 
“So, you and Y/N seem to be doing a lot of stuff together,” Anika began to comment in the background.
“Hm?” Tara hummed with raised eyebrows. “Oh, that? I guess so. Everybody else in our class has buddied up for any future stuff, so we got stuck together.” 
She felt the edges of her charger but she couldn’t quite grasp it. 
“Oh? I thought you two finished your group project last week,” Anika said, walking over to the kitchen but still within earshot of Tara.
“Yeah, well—“ Tara huffed, her finger tips only grazing her charger, “—our professor seems to be a fan of group work, and I only sit through study sessions so I can copy her notes.”
Anika laughed a little. “Interesting.”
Y/N never lets me copy her notes, she’s so stingy, Anika thought to herself.
At last, Tara finally got a hold of her charger. “Finally,” she sighed.
“Where is she anyway?” Tara inquired while putting away her charger. 
“Away this weekend, visiting family in Brooklyn,” Anika said as she walked back into the living room with two water bottles. She wordlessly handed one to Tara. 
“Oh,” was all the Carpenter replied as she took the water bottle and silently thanked her.
“Did you need something from her?”
Tara shook her head. “No, just curious.”
Anika gave her a subtle look of skepticism. “Alright then. Wanna stay for a bit? I was just gonna put on a movie.” 
“Sure, a movie sounds great.” She then sat down on the couch and Anika joined her. 
Thirty minutes into the movie and Tara’s train of thought kept returning to a certain station. It was extremely frustrating. Even in your absence you were a nuisance. Clearly she wasn’t used to going this long without annoying you. 
But what’s stopping her?
She took out her phone and was quick to press on your contact. 
Tara (1:34 pm) u didnt tell me ud be out of twn
Dork (1:36 pm) Oh, sorry, mom. I wasn’t aware I had to tell you my every move 
Tara (1:36 pm) apoldgy accepted.
Tara (1:37 pm) enjoyg brklyn?
Dork (1:38 pm) Your horrendous typing aside, how do you know where I am?
Tara (1:38 pm) i have my sorces also 🖕
Dork (1:39 pm) Wow. You’re obsessed with me
Tara (1:39 pm) am not
Dork (1:40 pm) Sure, my little stalker 
Tara (1:40 pm) ur so annoying
Tara (1:41 pm) shoulsnt u be w family rn?
Dork (1:41 pm) I’m currently hiding in the bathroom 
Of course she is… Tara thought with a smile.
After an hour, Tara was still staring at her phone; she smiled as she typed away, letting a few giggles slip every now and then. Anika would occasionally look over at Tara with a curious look. She may or may not have had a hunch as to who Tara was messaging.
Anika’s own phone rang with a message from her girlfriend. “Hey, Tara—” Tara looked up from her phone for the first time in almost two hours, “—Mindy and the others are gonna come over in a bit for a movie night. You staying?”
“Sounds good,” Tara said before returning her attention to her phone.
Tara could admit to herself, and herself only, that she missed it a little; your back and forths, the petty comments and insults you would throw at each other. You being a dork throughout it all was just a bonus. But she didn’t miss you—oh, no, that would mean she actually cared for you. And she doesn’t, she could never. You were nothing but a nuisance, and if she wanted to use that for her own entertainment that was her own right.
Mindy and Chad arrived about twenty minutes later. Tara didn’t get up from the couch, only sparing a few greetings. Mindy noticed the lack of focus which led her to tilt her head at her girlfriend, raising an eyebrow. 
Anika shook her head. “Don’t bother. She’s been like this the entire time.”
Those words were all it took for the teasing to begin.
Mindy sat down on the couch, across from Tara, with Anika in her lap. “So, Tara, who is she?” Mindy smirked.
Tara looked up at her friend with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”
“You heard me. Who’s the girl that’s glued you to your phone?” 
Tara nervously chuckled before responding. “That’s ridiculous—you sound ridiculous.”
“Woah, getting pretty defensive there, T. Wait a minute… Is it someone we know?” As Mindy narrowed her eyes at the girl, Tara looked away with an eye roll. “Shit, it is.”
“There’s no girl. There’s no anybody.” Tara was too busy forming a defense to notice Chad peeking from behind her.
“The contact name says ‘Dork,’” Chad revealed.
“Chad!” Tara quickly flipped her phone over.
Anika and Mindy shared a look and a not so subtle smirk. “Anything you would like to share with the class?”
Tara looked between them, a pout forming on her face. “Chad’s a nosy prick and I’m hungry.” She stood up and grabbed her jacket off of the coat rack. “I’m going to the store.”
“Get me something too, lover girl!” Mindy called out.
“You’re not getting shit!” Tara called back before slamming the door shut.
“Are you ever going to quit?” Tara said.
You refused to meet her gaze as she stared up at you with her big doe eyes. “No.”
Tara groaned.
It was Friday and Tara was over at your apartment to work on another assignment with you. This, inevitably, meant that you two were doing your typical bickering. 
“If you call me short one more time—”
You finally met her gaze. “Why? It’s true.”
“You don’t have to obnoxiously point it out every chance you get.” She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon before putting her book down.
“But it’s so fun.” You couldn’t help but smirk at her unamused expression.
“But it’s so fun,” Tara repeated, changing the pitch of her voice to mock you.
You wore your own unamused expression. “I sound nothing like that.”
“You sure about that raspy?”
You scoffed, almost chuckling. “Whatever, I’m getting water.” You stood up and walked over to the kitchen. 
“Maybe some tea while you’re at it,” Tara said.
“Maybe I can get you some milk. I heard it helps with growth,” you said as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then one of the juice boxes next to it. You walked back to where you were previously sitting with Tara, placing the juice box in front of her before sitting a couple cushions over.
“What’s this?”
You were confused. “What do you mean?”
“What’s this?” she repeated, gesturing to the juice.
“Juice, clearly.” 
How does she know my favorite brand of juice? It’s probably just a coincidence. That’s all. A coincidence. 
“Earth to Ms. Carpenter.” You gently poked her shoulder. “Are we doing this or…?”
“You got somewhere else to be?” she asked mockingly.
“Yes; a stupid date I should’ve never agreed to. Now let’s—”
Tara blinked a few times before cutting you off. “You have a date? I find that hard to believe.”
“Did you come here to talk about my dating life or to work on our assignment?”
She reluctantly turned her head back to her book and mumbled, “Whatever.”
After you two finally finished, you closed your book before standing up, stretching and digging. “Alright. I’m gonna change; you can stay here and do whatever,” you said. You then walked to your room to get ready, Tara never looking up at her phone, only humming in response. 
Since she would be hanging with Anika and others later, she figured she would stay at your apartment until they arrived. After fifteen minutes of scrolling through social media, the door to your bedroom opened and footsteps followed. That’s when Tara look up and at you, taking in your appearance.
You certainly caught her attention.
“I’m off,” is all you said as you grabbed your keys. 
“Y-you don’t look like shit—by the way,” Tara suddenly stammered. 
She wasn’t one for giving you compliments, so her words caused you to turn around with bewilderment.
“Thank you?” You still felt caught off guard as left the apartment.
Tara cupped her cheeks the moment you left, silently pleading the heat rushing to her face wasn’t visible. 
You spared yet another fake laugh at what your date considered to be jokes. The only agreed to this because it made a good distraction and Henry had a friend to set up. 
Yet all set you up for was boredom.
Seriously, Henry. An accountant? you bitterly thought as you feigned another smile. 
You don’t know how much longer you could bear hearing about financial mumbo jumbo. Your date needed to find better topics before you died of boredom. Henry had to pay for this. You were never going to go against your anti-blind date rule again. 
Eventually, the date finally came to an end around ten. In your opinion, it didn’t end soon enough. When you stood in front of you apartment's door, you could already hear laughter on the other side. You silently groaned before entering your key.
You immediately felt eyes on you, but you chose not to reciprocate. You just ignored them and made a beeline to your room. You were too busy raising the volume of your headphones to the highest setting to hear Mindy’s teasing remarks.
She nudged Tara’s side. “No wonder she had you all tongue tied when we got here.”
Tara shoved her elbow away. “I was not tongue tied.”
“You were having a full on gay crisis—“ Chad began but Tara cut him off by chucking a die at him. “Um, ow?”
“I did not have a gay crisis! Especially not over Y/N freaking Y/L/N,” she argued.
Anika smirked, joining in. “I briefly remember you pacing back and forth. 
“Was not! I-I was just a little confused about something, but I’m fine now,” Tara managed to get out through the nerves creeping over her. The same heat from hours ago was beginning to rush through her again. 
“I think—“ Ethan was cut off by Mindy raising her hand at him.
“You’re deflecting, T,” she said instead.
Tara blew a raspberry. “Nuh uh,” she said with childish conviction. “Roll the fucking dice Ethan.”
Ethan immediately started shaking the dice in his hands before rolling them. 
Mindy’s look of skepticism never ceased. “Fine, have it your way, but know I will get to the bottom of this.”
“There’s nothing to figure out.” Tara crossed her arms as Mindy narrowed her eyes at her, although she dropped the topic for the time being.
The entire time they were there, you stayed in your room. You laid down in your bed, blasting music through headphones with your arms crossed. Your shoes had been kicked off and you were currently in your pajamas. You may go deaf by fifty, but loud music was good. It was your white noise, a distraction. 
Some may claim your coping mechanisms were unhealthy, but they were your own. 
But does it truly count if you aren’t coping at all?—
You suddenly heard knocks at your bedroom door, so you pulled off your headphones. 
From the other side, Anika inquired, “Wanna join us for pizza? We’re going out.”
“No, thanks,” you were quick to respond before putting your headphones back on. 
Anika returned to the living room and sat back down on her girlfriend’s lap. “She’s a no-go.”
“Mkay. When do you guys wanna leave? I’m starving,” Chad said, rubbing his stomach.
“You’re always starving,” Mindy remarked.”
The next day, you were beaten by Tara to class, surprisingly. You slept through your alarm, it was the first time you had gotten a decent night’s rest in weeks.
I’ll take the win, you figured. 
Tara gave you a single glance before looking back to the front of the classroom. “You’re later than usual,” she said, still not looking at you. 
“Was up late, thinking about your sister,” you said, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh.
“You’re disgusting.”
After hours of passing notes and having unnecessary side arguments with Tara, class finally ended. The moment you left, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, the figure began to effortlessly walk with you. 
“Sooo, how was your date?” You heard Henry ask. 
“Shitty and extremely boring,” said with a tone that matched the unimpressed look you gave him. “He wouldn’t stop talking about financial junk, and then the stupid pilsners came into play—as if that would grease up the evening.”
He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry… Oh! If you wanna try again there this—“
You cut him off. “No, no, no. I’m not doing this again,” you said while gesturing with one of your hands.
“You’re never forgiving for this, are you?”
You sighed. “You are never allowed to set me up again. Ever.”
“Yup. That sounds about right.” He dropped his arm from around your shoulder. “I gotta head to class but I’ll see you around.” You bumped fists before he made his way to his class.
Once classes were over, you started your shift at the cafe you worked at. It was a slow day, so you just focused on the wiping down the counters until someone walked in. 
“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say. You looked up from the counter to see one of your regulars wearing a charming smile.
“Hey,” you repeated. “The usual?” you asked as you turned around to the coffee maker behind you.
“You know me too well,” she lightly laughed. “Not many people today, huh?” she said as she looked around.
“Yeah. You caught me on a slow day.” You put a lid on her drink before giving it to her.
She thanked you before taking out her wallet. You opened your mouth to say something but she was quick to cut you off. “I don’t wanna hear it. Let me get this one, I don’t need this coming out of your check.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed and smiled. You took the money from her and placed it in the register. “But how else am I supposed to show you you’re my favorite regular?”
She put a few bills in the tip jar. “Don’t worry, honey, I know. See you later.” She waved, winking at you, before leaving.
“See ya, Lottie,” you mustered up just before the door shut behind her. You didn't miss the sly smile on her face, possibly at seeing you scramble to say goodbye. 
“What was that?”
Anika’s voice caused you to jump. “Jeez, Anika. A little warning next time?”
“You would’ve noticed us if you weren’t busy flirting with your regular. I didn’t know you had a thing for mil—“
“Wait—what do you mean ‘us’?”
Anika turned, discreetly pointing at a table where Mindy, Tara, Chad and Ethan sat.
“Oh, wonderful. She knows where I work.”
“You expect her to put a hit on you?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” you mumbled.
“You two can be so immature,” she said.
“Are you here for coffee or judgment day?” you sarcastically asked in a dry voice. 
“I can multitask,” she said before ordering. 
Not long after, Anika returned to her table with drinks and pastries. “Here we are,” she said while giving out everyone’s orders. 
Mindy kissed her cheek. “Thanks, babe.”
Anika smiled back at her girlfriend. “Anytime, babe.”
Tara simply sipped her coffee, thinking to herself, before speaking up. “Who was Y/N talking to?” she asked Anika.
“One of her regulars. They’re always flirting, not that even Y/N’s aware of that,” Anima responded. 
A smirk played on Mindy’s face. “You jealous, T?”
Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You sound ridiculous.” She immediately hushed down her tone. “And can you lower your voice?” she pleaded while slightly leaning in.
They all subconsciously looked over at you; you were wiping down the counter with your headphones in. 
“Ah hah.” Mindy pointed a finger at Tara. “I knew there was something.”
Tara lazily pushed Mindy’s finger to the side. “There’s nothing to know. Jeez, a girl can’t be curious anymore.”
“I don’t know. It does seem pretty—“
“Well nobody asked you, Chad, and come on, all I did was tell her she didn’t look like shit. You’re all reaching.”
“Oh, am I? Remember that dream you told me about, the one where—“
Tara’s eyes widened at Mindy. “Don’t you dare say another word. Besides, that dream meant nothing. It was just a dream.”
Mindy gave her an incredulous look 
“If I may—“ Ethan started, but Tara finished for him.
“No. You may not."
“Haven't you two also been doing, like, a bunch of study sessions?” Mindy raised an eyebrow.
“All a ploy to copy her notes.”
“Is flirting a part of the plan?” Anika rhetorically asked, giving Tara the feeling of betrayal.
“Traitor,” Tara mumbled.
“So, you don’t deny flirting?” Chad couldn’t hide his smirk.
“You’re really no help,” Tara said as she got up from her seat. “I’m leaving. I’m done being interrogated.”
“See you, lover girl,” Mindy said to Tara who was flipping them off as she left. 
What was Tara thinking? The next time she needs to know what her dream meant, she’s going to Google.
-----------
A/N: Da nile is a river in Egypt
(EDIT) A/N: You have my word that chapter four's rewrite won't take nearly as long
Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno
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missmonsters2 · 2 years ago
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—ADRONITIS | One
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader
Summary: Wednesday's quite aware she has no people skills, but that doesn't stop her from wondering why she can't know everything about one person immediately.
Warnings: None.
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Count: 1.9k
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Adronitis: noun. The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Everyone who knows Wednesday can confidently say she's not a people person, and even Wednesday herself can tell you she's not. People are strange, annoying, emotional creatures that she's fairly certain she lacks a particular trait to handle. 
Of course, some individuals have unfortunately made it past her prickly walls. Her roommate and begrudgingly best friend, Enid, can be tolerated in longer spurts. Eugene is just another Pugsley, so she has to look after him. She supposes Xavier isn't dreadful to deal with. Now. 
Would Wednesday commit first-degree murder for them? Yes, but that's not the point. 
The point—what was the point? 
Wednesday internally huffs with annoyance. She's an articulate person, but lately, she isn't. 
Reluctantly, Wednesday's eyes trail to the side, where she sees her reason for inarticulation. 
"Ah, so this is why you're sitting in the courtyard today," Enid smiles innocently, but Wednesday can see the knowing look in her eyes and purses her lips in a scowl as her eyes return to her book. She's finally gotten her hands on Goody's spellbook, and she's been trying to finish reading it for weeks. 
But alas...she's been...distracted.
"I don't blame you," Enid sighs as she looks over to where Wednesday was just gazing. "Everyone's looking at our resident Faerie. I wish she'd sit at our table today."
Wednesday silently agrees but tells herself she didn't. But she did. It's been nearly a week since you've sat with their tiny group of weirdos. Heroes, but weirdos. 
Today, you're sitting with the fangs, and Wednesday just can't fathom why. She gets your little rotation schedule, but vampires were so overrated, and from the small conversations she's heard here and there—incredibly boring.
Who cares about their diet? Wednesday thinks they lack innovation if their only choices are humans or animals (because, quite frankly, another outcast could kick their ass).
Yet, you sit there, smiling serenely and nodding with genuine interest. You ask questions and laugh at their witless jokes, and it drives Wednesday crazy.
Wednesday doesn't understand your sense of humor. Although, no one understands Wednesday's sense of humor either. That's usually the pattern. Sometimes, it feels like you and she are two sides of the same coin. 
You're both very different at Nevermore. While you're both outcasts within the outcasts, it's not the same. Whereas Wednesday didn't understand people, and they didn't gravitate toward her, people seemed to argue for your time.
Hence, why you sat at a different lunch table every day. 
Wednesday's mind drifts as she frowns. There's little known about Faeries as they're usually recluses, and there are so few of them. Especially night faeries. 
But now, it makes her wonder. Are Faeries like sirens? Do they lure everyone in their proximity without choice? That would certainly make more sense on Wednesday, and it would explain her recent behavior. 
Wednesday frowns deeper. Principal Weems has already sternly told others that while the Faeries are extremely beautiful and charming, they have no such powers. 
So, Wednesday was at a loss. She was beginning to think this school was designed to be the bane of her existence. Unwillingly, her gaze drifted again, but this time, you turned your head simultaneously and caught her eye.
You smile soft and sincere but unobtrusively at her, and Wednesday looks away, her face impassive. 
It wasn't unusual. 
This was exactly how all her interactions with you went. Very often, no words are exchanged, but you smile and wave at her as you pass by in the hallways. You greet her warmly when you sit at their table or in class. 
"Your unhappy face is showing," Enid points out, a slight upward quirk on her lips as she bites into her sandwich.
"This is always my face," Wednesday deadpans. 
"No, it's not," Enid shakes her head confidently. If there's one thing Enid can say, she stares at Wednesday a lot, so she knows her roommate very well. "You tilt your chin down and glare through your eyebrows more than look through them. It's very protruding," Enid points directly at Wednesday's eyebrow and forehead. "See? Unhappy face."
Xavier is looking at her through his apple, using it to shield how he's holding back his laughter as he grins at her. 
Wednesday relaxes her brows, her eyes becoming less narrow before she raises her brow at Enid. "Then what face is this?" The werewolf ponders her roommate's face and then sighs like she's been chastised. 
"General distaste," Enid mutters, but then she brightens as she looks up. "Oh, Fae is coming over here!" 
"Why do you insist on calling her that when she has a name?" Wednesday asks. You never seem mad about it, and it's not like Wednesday would care if people walked around calling her witch instead of Wednesday, but it's another thing she doesn't understand.
"Hm," Enid hums. "I guess it just became a nickname when she came. I mean, I guess it's kind of weird to call someone by their creature name...should we try to come up with a new one for her?"
"Whatcha guys talking about?" You smile as you approach. You've got a grape lollipop in your mouth given to you by one of the shapeshifters. Xavier and Eugene move over so you can sit down, directly facing Wednesday. "Hi, Wednesday," you say her name so casually, staring at her until Wednesday nods in acknowledgment. 
She's tense as she grips the edge of her book tightly. Her eyes are steadfastly attached to the pages even if she's not reading them. 
"We're talking about how everyone started to call you Fae," Enid grins, her smile wide and excited, but then frowns. "I hope it doesn't bother you."
You hum for a long moment, a sound that Wednesday hangs onto. She can see you through her peripherals. You seem in deep thought, and Wednesday can't understand why it's taking you so long to decide whether it bothers you. She wants to tell you to hurry it up so she—they can have the answer.
"I supposed it started when one of the psychics saw me in person, and all he could stutter out was 'Fae' over and over," you shrug.
"Feeble-minded," Wednesday mutters, and you smirk at her, and now she's wondering what exactly that could mean. 
"It doesn't bother me," you continue on. "I mean, I guess it's fine since there are no other faeries at the school, but it might be confusing when there are. I can't exactly go around calling on a person wolfy when that could be any of the werewolves here."
They all nod, except Wednesday.
"We should try to find a new nickname for you!" Eugene exclaims, emboldened by your friendliness to him. "How about nightcrawler!"
"As enchanting as that is, I'm going to have to veto that one," you give him a wry smile. He slumps in defeat while Xavier gives in a pat on the back.
"Oh," Enid squeals excitedly, and Wednesday shirk and winces at the sound. "We could all try to find a new nickname for you until we get the right one!"
"And why should we if Fae says it doesn't bother her?" Xavier asks as he turns over and gives you what Wednesday believes he thinks is a boyish smile. 
"Spoken like a true simpleton," Wednesday cut in, still not looking up. "Will that be your new nickname?"
"Ouch," Xavier laughs, the insult falling off his back. Although, he doesn't doubt that's his contact name on Wednesday's phone. "Alright, I get it. Fine, the person who gets their nickname chosen gets Fae's number. How's that?" He looks over to you, and Wednesday snaps her head up, finally to look at you too. 
You seem pensive. Another thing Wednesday knows but doesn't understand. It's getting irritating with how many things are adding up that Wednesday wants to know now and can't. 
Nobody in the school has your number though they all see you on your phone as you stroll down the hallway. Wednesday has heard you turning people down when they ask for your number, citing how there've been too many requests, and the number of texts or calls you'd get would be too overwhelming. So, now it's been an unspoken rule between the school that no one gets your number if they cannot all have it. 
You peer over at Wednesday, and she doesn't flinch away from your gaze. She refuses to lose whatever staring game you've created.
"Okay," you acquiesce, staring at Wednesday for a moment longer before standing up. "I'll see you guys in class. I'm going to see if the shapeshifters have more grape lollipops. They're my favorite."
Grape lollipops are your favorite. Is it just the lollipop, or is it grape in general?
"Well, this should be fun," Enid bounces her seat before she looks at Eugene. "I'm going to have to say it's looking unlikely for you, bud."
"I have more ideas!" Eugene protests.
"Never accept defeat," Wednesday looks back at her book, inwardly frowning when she's still on the same page she's been trying to read for the last 20 minutes. "Would be an acceptable suggestion for me. Accept defeat in this case, Eugene."
There's more bickering at the table while Enid bumps her shoulder against Wednesday. "So? Are you going to try to come up with something and get Fae's number?" 
"No, it's a trivial matter. Why would I want it? The only time I ever use my phone is when you've dragged me into your 24/7 addiction and Xavier cries for my attention."
"I do NOT cry—"
"So, I have no need for it."
Plus, would you expect her to text you if she had your number? Would she even want to text you? Wednesday supposes it'd be an equal trade of information, so you'd have her number too. Should she expect you to text her?
Wednesday glances in her peripheral and sees you with another lollipop as you sit with the shapeshifters. You've got an apple in your hand, but you look at it blandly. 
Not a fan of apples, then?
Wednesday feels annoyance gnaw at her insides. It's not irregular for Wednesday to sometimes show interest in others. Knowing others is valuable information that can be used at a later date.
But why in the hell does it take so long to get to know someone? Why can't Wednesday just know all your deep, dark secrets first and then make her way out to the trivial things?
"What a shame," Enid sighs casually, looking straight ahead, but her eyes tilt to the side to stare at her gloomy roommate. "I think having a phone and texting is great! It's way faster to get to know someone over text since you can always be in communication. You know what else is a thing? At 2AM, people lower their guard down, and they're more likely to spill secrets."
Wednesday slams her book shut, standing up and leaving briskly.
Research is needed. Her father has few skills, but one of them is coming up with nicknames. That skill should undoubtedly pass on to her. 
Wednesday glances at you as she walks out of the courtyard. You look over at her and smile with a wave before turning back to your conversation.
Defeat is not in Wednesday's vocabulary. She will beat the constraints of time and know everything there is to know in haste. There will be victory, and it will be hers.
PART TWO
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maybe-a-dinosaur · 4 months ago
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oikawa tooru big fan of puzzles. thinking about how dedicated he is to his craft like he works so hard to be good at what he does he opens a puzzle and locks tf in. pieces scattered across the table his formula is corners first then all the edges he builds the frame then he starts at the bottom and works up. if any of the pieces come stuck together he breaks them apart immediately and mixes them in he does not take shortcuts he likes a challenge. they completely consume him like hyperfocus to the max once he starts he can’t stop glasses on hunched over the table puzzling away. he generally doesn’t keep them once he’s finished he lets it sit for a bit takes a picture for his records then disassembly begins with little to no fanfare he doesn’t really need people to know (unless it’s a BIG puzzle then it goes on his instagram story) it’s just something he does for him he can focus for a while it gives him a sense of accomplishment and he stretches really well afterward. his favorites are pictures of places like scenic shots of nature or cities and puzzles of famous artworks like monet or van gogh or hokusai but if a puzzle comes into his possession he’s doing it at some point no matter what the picture is.
hanamaki takahiro never finished puzzles. he likes them in theory and is super excited to start them but gets bored or distracted within an hour and walks away. he works on them intermittently for a week or so while they sit and collect dust and are inevitably put away before they get finished. his attention span just isn’t long enough anything more than 50 pieces isn’t getting done. the only ones he ever finishes are the 3d like moving puzzles with the ridged pieces the ones that hurt to look at they’re usually less pieces and he likes the texture and they’re stupid pictures he completes them and picks them up of the table then crumples them apart. he really likes the idea of puzzles just doesn’t usually like them in practice, they’re too time consuming need too much focus and he’s a busy man with too much other shit to get into.
matsukawa issei is not a fan of puzzles. like he’ll help put together a piece or two if someone else is working on one but will never go out of his way to assemble a puzzle like he doesn’t care they’re not his thing he’s bored already. however he is a big fan of brain teaser/fidget puzzles like wooden puzzle cubes and puzzle boxes and metal knot things. he knows how to solve a rubik’s cube can do it in under 2 minutes no biggie he doesn’t even own one himself he just goes “can i try” whenever he sees one and flies through it. he can even solve one with his eyes closed just looks at it for a minute shuts his eyes boom solved. all these give him something to do with his hands conventional puzzles are too much sitting still and looking he needs to fidget or straight up not move none of this half and half nonsense.
iwaizumi hajime completely impartial when it comes to puzzles. he’ll help oikawa on one if he’s asked to but never seeks puzzles out he gets the appeal they’re just not for him personally. he saw a comic book puzzle one time that was really cool but that’s the extent of his interest tbh. iwaizumi isn’t a huge fan of sit down activities that aren’t competitive (anti puzzle pro video game) but as nerdy as it sounds has always been a fan of reading . graphic novels real books even the newspaper something about it is engaging and relaxing enough at the same time for him to sit still for an extended period of time. middle aged married iwaoi on weekends tooru does a puzzle at the table while hajime sits on the couch and reads a book they’re both wearing glasses they take a break at 2pm to take a nap together and go on a walk then are back at it by 4.
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thinkwosolife23 · 1 year ago
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I Can't Watch, Beth Mead
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Y/N Mead. Beth Mead. A boxer. A footballer. But over anything else she was your wife.
You had just finished your last training session before the biggest fight of your life. Tommorow, you would step in the ring with the current Women's Undisputed World Champion. Savannah Marshall. Being the number 1 contender, tommorow you had the chance to become the world champion.
But for now, you just wanted to be at home, to be with Beth. So when you pulled into the driveway of yours and Beths home, it was the first time today that you had felt able to relax.
"Lover, I'm home!" The sound of your voice echoed throughout you home as you walked through the door, throwing your keys on the side before pulling your trainers off.
"I'm in the livingroom." Beth spoke back to you. You made your way towards your livingroom to where Beth was laying on the sofa watching something on the telly. She looked up towards you as you walked over and kissed her forehead before quickly pecking her lips.
"I've missed you," she said whilst you were walking back to the kitchen to grab a drink.
"I missed you too, today has felt so long." you told her as you jumped up to sit on your kitchen side.
Beth seemed to notice the tiredness in your voice and followed you to where you were sat, placing herself inbetween you legs, arms going around your mid section as yours rested over her shoulders. You being the taller out of the two of you, her head rested perfectly on your chest as yours slowly rested on top of hers.
"Bad training session?" She questioned you as if it was expected. "Nah, not really, Just the usual plus more. My trainers kept going over all the analysis and boring stuff. It just reminded me of all the pressure that's on me for the fight, the fact that i'm going into it as the challenger and should come out of it as the champion. It's just getting a lot now." You replied whilst Beth tucked her hands under the back of your hoodie, slightly scratching your bare back, doing the things she knows calms you down.
"Babe, you just need to trust yourself cause everyone else does, your so capable of winning this fight. And you've worked so hard for it." Beth responded back to you. But Beth herself couldm't tell you that your fight had been a constant thought in her mind over the last couple of weeks. Her thoughts constantly jumping to the worst conclusions. Broken nose, broken ribs, concussion. The potential that you could be knocked out, the view she had of your body splayed out on the canvas, not moving. After all that, her biggest worry was your mental health. She had seen how a loss affects you, she had first hand seen you shut yourself off from everyone, from her. She couldn't tell you that sometimes she wished you weren't a boxer.
You were in one anothers prescence for another 5 minutes, completly content with the comfort your wife was giving, always knowing exactly what you needed.
"I've got you, and that's all I need." You spoke, reminding her and you that she was your motivation: she was always your motivation.
Beth seemed to tense up when you said that, her body wanting to pull away from you. You pulled away from her, glancing at her face trying to find a reason for her sudden discomfort.
"What's wrong, love?" You questioned worringly. Her eyes refusing to meet yours as you jumped off the counter, standing in front of her, taking her hands in your own.
"I'm not coming." She spoke softly, the volume of her voice almost too quiet to even here.
You dropped her hands from you own. Your own hand going to your wedding ring, trying to calm yourself down and stop yourslef from getting angry.
"What do you mean your not coming?" The sadness and anger immediatly noticable within your voice.
"I can't watch it, Y/N. I can't watch you put yourself through that amount of pain. I can't be there when something bad happens to you. Everytime you step into that ring, I dread that you might get knocked down and you won't get back up."
Beth was crying by this point, the tears evidnent by looking at her face. You could feel yourself getting angrier, your nails digging into your palms where your fists were clenched.
"So, what? Me facing it on my own makes it easier for you. As long as it's easier for you, that's alright" Your voice raised as you spoke, you started pacing throughout yours and Beths shared kitchen.
"Did it not matter to you that I was there when you tore your ACL, that I was there waiting whilst you were having your surgery. I was there throughout your whole recovery doing everything I could to make it easier for you, to help you get through the process. God Beth! Did it mean nothing to you that I was there for you when your mum passed away." Your voice significantly quieter this time, the emotions were still evident within every word you spoke.
"That's not fair!" Beth snapped back. Her head coming up from it's dropped position, her eyes following you as you paced backwards and fowards.
"No! What's not fair is you telling me the night before the biggest fight of my life that you aren't coming. For better, for worse, in sickness and in health. You made them promises, you know when you married me. So much for being my wife."
The tears now fluent on yours and Beths face as you took your ring off and placed it on the side before going back to put your trainers on.
"Y/N, where you going?" Beth spoke as she watched you gather your things and grab your keys.
"Like you care!" And with that the front door was slammed shut. You quickly made your way into your car, no idea where you were going to go.
After 10 minutes, you eventually decided to message Alex (Scott). Funnily enough, she was the one who introduced you and beth to one another. Both her and Leah had become two of your closest friends.
Message: Alex x
Hey Alex, sorry for the late message. Me and Beth have had an arguement, am I alright to stay at yours tonight. Xx (08:37pm)
Hi Y/N, don't worry about messaging me. Course you can stay tonight. Drive safe, yeah Xx (08:42pm)
As soon as Alex had replied, you made the short drive to her house.
After getting there, you sat with Alex explaining everything that had happened between you and Beth not even an hour ago. All of your emotions soon flooded out and after a couple of hours of conversating with her, you both decided that it was best that you went and tried to get some sleep.
The next day…
You spent hours tossing and turning last night, your body clearly not liking the unfamiliarity of sleeping without your wife beside you. However, you did still manage to get an adequate amount of sleep.
You woke up to your phone ringing, flashing and just making a stupid amount of noise.
Notifications: Lover 😍❤️ 5 missed calls, 3 unread messages
Messages: Lover 😍❤️
I'm worried about you, can you please just let me know that your okay xx (yesterday, 11:20pm)
I'm sorry, please just come home xx (09:30am)
I love you xx (09:32am)
Your mind didn't even want to think about Beth, or anything that was said last night to be honest. You had to be in the right frame of mind today. The fight wasn't due to start until 08:30 tonight, but you were expected at the venue by 5pm.
Fight day rituals soon came around. Usually, it would be going on a walk with Beth, but today Alex had offered to go with you, the invite also extended to Leah who was straight round.
The rest of the day constisted of Alex and Leah trying their best to distract you from both the fight and Beth.
But all of it started to hit you by the time you were in all of your fighting gear, having your hands wrapped and going through some final combinations on the pads with your trainer.
You were quickly dragged out of your thoughts when one of the staff told you that someone was at the door wanting to see you. You walked towards your door and opened it to find that it was your wife stood there.
You were shocked but your face was tense and showed minimal emotion to her stood there. You turned around and went back to where you were originally sat, waiting for someone to put your gloves on. You glanced up to where Beth was stood, her body still fixed in the spot it was when you had opened the door, but her eyes were yet to leave yours.
"I want you all out." You motioned to everyone who was stood in the room.
"All of us?" One of your trainers relayed back to you.
"Yeah, all of you. I want some time with my wife. In private!" Beth eyes immediatly lit up at what you had just said. Everyone quickly dispersing out of the room, Beth soon walking in closing the door behind her.
Your eyes intensly watching her as she walked over to where you were sat. She picked your gloves up, gesturing to you to put your hand out so she could put your glove on.
"What are you doing here, Beth?" You questioned quietly, not needing another arguement before going out to fight.
"I might have had a bit of a telling off in training today by the girls. Even Jonas had a word with me."
"Good." Your response almost sarcastic.
"I am really sorry, Y/N. Your my wife, i'm meant to support you, be there for you. Through the good times and the bad. I went back on the promises that I made to you and I should've never done that." She said whilst she finished putting your gloves on.
"Come here, you soppy sod." You opened your arms to her, which she soon took advantage of. Wrapping her arms around your neck, yours going around her waist as you rested your head on her stomach.
Both staying like that until someone came in to let you know that it was nearly time for you to walk out.
You looked up at Beth, signifying that it was time for you and her to go. Her hands quickly coming up to your face, her fingers tracing over all of your features before her hands stayed rested on each side of your face. Both of you soon leaning in, your lips locking with hers. She pulled away after a few seconds but making sure here forehead rested against yours, the fear soon showing evident on her face.
"I'll be okay, y'know." You said trying to give your wife some form of reassurance.
"I love you." She said, knowing that it was the only thing you needed to hear.
"I love you." Your words indentical to hers. You stood up giving her one final kiss, "My beautiful girl."
One of the security guards came to take Beth to where she was sat as you were took in another direction.
Nothing will ever be able to describe the feeling of walking out to a full O2 arena, knowing that people are there for your main event. The second you were in people's view; the confident, almost cocky persona was on show. No fear was shown by your face or by your body language. You waited in the ring as your opponent walks out. Your eyes not on her at the minute though, they were trying to find Beth who was sat in the front row with her Arsenal teamates.
But now, your focus shifted. You had to be focus on this fight: not only were you in for the hardest physical battle of your life but you knew that this was a mental game aswell. Your opponent making it known by making a point of walking past Beth and holding her title up before stepping into the ring.
Once you were both in the ring, the spokesperson began introducing both fighters. Also, going over all the rules and stipulations of the match.
10 rounds. 2 minutes each. No headgear. Disqualification for either fighter for any low blows.
You bumped gloves before going back to your corner so the fight could begin.
The first few rounds showed the level of intenstity that this match held. Neither fighter backing down. You took some hard blows but so did she.
Round 6. That was when the balance of the fight took a complete shift. She was showing why she was the current champion. You were taking blow after blow from her, but you still managed to hold your own for a while. It was only when she had managed to land a combination that had took so many fighters out in the past.
She landed a harsh left hook to your ribs forcing you to hunch over in pain; her right hand then punched you square in the face sending straight to the canvas.
Immediately, you felt the pain of the punches you had took and then you felt the blood running down your face, you managed to roll yourself on the side so you didn't swallow any blood. Your eyes looked foward to find that Beth was directly in your eyeline, her eyes glued to your bloody state.
She was trying to figure out if you were able to carry on. Everyone could see that you were trying to get up. You were now on your knees, trying to muster up the energy to stand. But the referess count was already at 6. You were still looking at Beth, trying to use her as motivation and when she mouthed, 'I love you,' that was all you needed.
All of a sudden you were up and ready with a new founded energy.
Round 7: the momentum was all yours. She was getting tired and you knew you had to use that to your advantage. She had slightly dropped her guard and this was you chance to finish it.
Your left hand connected with the side of her head knocking her off balance before your right hand uppercut landed cleanly on her jaw.
She was down and with that the referee started his count.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.
You'd done it. You had won. You were the world champion. You dropped to your kneew in disbelief, eyes full of tears that you had actually done it.
The crowd were full of cheering fans and the ring, by now, was filled with people. You stood back up and made your way over to the former champion. You gave each other a hug and spoke of the admiration and respect you held for each other.
The referee and spokesperson brought you too the middle of the ring: announcing that you were the new Women's Undisputed World Champion and gave you your belt.
But now all you wanted was to find was person. You got out of the ring walking round to where she was. Her eyes were filled with tears and it only made it worse when she seen you coming over.
When you got to her you put your belt over her shoulder before she jumped on you, wrapping her arms around your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.
"I'm so so proud of you, baby. My wife. My world champion." She said to you as you slowly put her back on the ground before attaching your lips to hers causing the whole arena to arrupt again.
You did it, you were now the World Champion. But nothing came over Beth, you knew that everyday you had her by your side and that was someting no trophy or title would ever beat.
After all… you were
Y/N Mead. Beth Mead. A boxer. A footballer. But over anything she was your wife.
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yeyinde · 2 months ago
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have you read (and/or enjoyed) Haunting Adeline? I’ve seen some stuff about it that kinda piques my interest but i have seen a ton of people say it sucks and i’m hesitant to buy it in case i hate it but i trust your judgement lol
when i went searching for dark romance books, it frequently popped up and was one of the first i ended up reading. Haunting Adeline, That Sik Love, the Predator, the Ritual, Den of Vipers, Carnage, Haunt me Darling, Take me With You. pretty much anything that came up on a quick search, i devoured in a span of two weeks. but out of all of them, i was really disappointed by Haunting Adeline :/
it was so hyped up on tiktok, Reddit, goodreads, and rec pages that i was really excited for it, only to feel pretty swindled after. i won't get into spoilers since you haven't read it, but i was not a fan of a lot of the plot choices and character decisions. idk. i guess i just like it when things make sense.
for most of the book, i was bored or mad. usually, if i'm sucked into a plot, i can finish within a few hours of non-stop reading. but this one took me a whole two days to get through. i just wasn't interested in continuing. i'd read a little bit, get overcome with a visceral feeling of "oh for FUCK'S SAKE!" and then do something else because i'd couldn't be bothered to continue. it was not living up to the expectations i had for it (or the ones set by reviews i'd read), but even outside of that, it just didn't click with me at all. i just didn't find the leads compelling enough to stick around. it was trying to be too much at all once, and for me, it failed at a lot of it.
BUT! the smut was good. very hot. fmc made some very typical fmc choices (re: stupid ones that no person living in the real world would have, but easily very forgiveable). for most of it, i was kinda wishing Addie lobbed the mmc upside the head with a shovel. he was so useless, it made me wanna cry. and i love unrepentant mmcs, but i just didn't click with his character at all because he was a walking contraction and his values made little sense to me at all.
in all reality, i should have dnf at 45% but i suffered through and now i wake up in a cold sweat thinking about these lines:
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beskarthief · 1 month ago
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Chapter 7 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.
 Riyo had assumed, wrongly, that her new protection detail would enjoy a trip to a clone bar. It had become a routine of hers to visit every few weeks; learning names and hearing concerns, raising questions as to what bills the clones would find most helpful. Because they needed a lot of help. 
 The Empire was discarding them faster than she had anticipated, as though this had always been part of the plan. And, maybe, it had been. Few senators outside of her inner circle seemed to mind. They were made to be expandable, afterall. 
 Except they weren’t, and Riyo found it infuriating that everyone kept treating them like they were.
 So she did what little she could to help. Bringing updates on the Senate’s rulings and lending an ear to their own news. And, most importantly, to what lay within the news.
 “Oh yeah, I always get the most boring postings.” a clone called Drixx was telling her as he rattled off a list. Riyo made careful note of each one even as her eyes scanned the periphery for watchful gazes. 
 Her own guards she had left outside, but the two Coruscant Guard assigned to her had followed her in. It had felt more suspicious to ask them not to, and she had thought they might enjoy the break. But instead they were garnering more suspicious looks than her hushed conversation with Drixx was.
 “Is there something I should know?” Riyo asked the clone quietly once he’d finished, and he paused, looking at her for a moment as though trying to judge whether or not she was being serious.
 “They’re Fox’s Corries.” he said at last, apparently deciding that she was. “You’ve been coming in here nearly every month and you still don’t know that?”
 Fox. She made a mental note of what must be the Commander’s name. 
 “Are they different in some way?”
 Drixx’s expression hardened and he rubbed at the ragged scar on the inside of his left hand the way he tended to when he was thinking. Eventually he threw one final dirty look towards the two Coruscant Guard standing awkwardly at the edge of the bar. 
 “Just be careful, Senator. Some clones are more like droids than you’d think.”
 Riyo didn’t let any emotion cross her face even as Drixx melted back into the crowd. She knew how much the clones hated being compared to droids, so to hear one of them say that about a brother meant something must have happened. She wondered what they could have done to deserve it. The list wasn’t long.
 She didn’t ask anyone else about it the rest of the night, even as she flitted from gathering to gathering and continued her usual line of questioning. She knew that if Drixx didn’t want to talk about it, it wasn’t something to be brought up lightly. But it was hard to think about anything else. She had known from the beginning what being assigned a Coruscant Guard detail was. A veiled threat. Eyes to watch her. A way for Palpatine to inform her that he was well aware of what she was doing.
 But now it felt less like a concealed knife, and more like one being pressed to her back.
 So she watched, and she waited, and she hoped that one of the clones around her would mention something in passing; some remark about why they all seemed to consider Fox’s Corries to no longer be one of them. 
 But the most she had to go off of was dirty glances thrown in their direction, a few warnings that she should be careful, and one clone very purposefully bumping into the Sergeant assigned to her protection that night. He didn’t even bother to make it seem accidental. But that offered it’s own kind of opportunity.
 “Are you alright?” Chuchi asked him once they’d left. The Sergeant - she didn’t know his name - had merely shuffled out of the way, eyes flicking to his shoes. The other clone had seemed a bit disappointed, but he had also been drunk.
 “Yes, Senator.” The clone replied quickly. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
 “Next time you can stay outside, if you prefer?”
 “That’s alright. Your safety is our priority, Ma’am.”
 “Of course. Well, I could always have Curtix accompany me.”
 “I’m honestly used to it, Ma’am. It’s okay.” He seemed to realize he’d slipped up almost immediately, though Chuchi still saw the other clone shoot him a glance from where he was walking a bit ahead of them. Clearly he had been listening. 
 “Uh, what I meant was-”
 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” she said swiftly, sweetly. “I just would hate to be the reason you’re put in a difficult situation.”
 “Uh, yeah. Well, that’s very considerate of you but, really, we’re okay.” And there it was, he’d confirmed it wasn’t just him, it was all of them. His companion fell back to walk beside them.
 “Kosmo just isn’t a drinker.” he said, trying to sound casual. “He always forgets that people tend to get a little louder and more pushy after they’ve had a couple.” 
 “Yeah. Yeah, that’s all.” the sergeant - Kosmo - quickly agreed, and Chuchi could hear the gratefulness in his voice. She let it drop. Anything else would be suspicious.
 “Ah, of course. I’m the same way.” Chuchi smiled.
 They spent the rest of the return trip in silence.
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aesopsharpmybeloved · 9 months ago
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Tess' Sharpuary - 17. Hair
The potions master may have missed a couple of hairdresser appointments...
chapter specific tags: slice of life, fluff, attempts at humour
relationships: aesop sharp x reader
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17. Hair (1.2k)
tw: none
Aesop groaned after the third time he had to spit and blow hair out of his mouth. His own hair. His lover merely laughed at him. The potions master flipped his head to get the hair from his face: “This is getting rather annoying, I need to get it cut.” The young woman gave him a grin, and one of her hands tangled in his long hair, stroking through the soft locks and occasionally giving a light tug. Aesop, however annoyed with his unruly hair, couldn’t help but enjoy the attention she was bestowing upon him. “Maybe you could wear it in a ponytail until you can get it cut?” she offered.
“Hm, I don’t really like how I look when I wear one. Call me vain,” his voice was hoarse and his eyes closed in bliss, his face snuggled into her warm neck as she continued petting his hair. He felt her speak before he heard it, her words making her throat rumble slightly: “I won’t. You prefer looking a certain way, there’s nothing wrong with that. Did you always have long hair?”
“No, not always,” he replied, “When I was younger, I usually wore my hair quite long, but after I entered the Auror recruitment programme… Well, let’s just say all the men cut their hair within a week.” The girl watched him curiously: “And the women?” “They started wearing their ponytails and hairdos very tight. It makes sense, really,” Aesop reasoned, “we’d get tested every single day, magically and physically, and we could hardly afford to flip our heads all the time in the middle of combat. And after I got my badge, well, I just sort of kept it that way. I only let it grow again after the…” he didn’t need to finish his sentence - his lover knew all too well what he was referring to.
“I hate cutting it myself, I’m quite clumsy with it, especially on the back of my head,” he said then, wanting to change the subject and keep their conversation light. “Why don’t you go to Madam Snelling?” his sweetheart offered, the smile returning to her face. Aesop scoffed: “Waste of money in my opinion, it’s just a few inches of hair… But maybe… How would you like to try your hand at it?”
“Me?!” she squeaked, “Ace, I’ve never cut anyone’s hair! I’m happy enough to be able to style mine. What if I do more damage than good?” The potions master laughed: “Oh come now. As I said, it’s only a few inches, and you know how I like to wear it. Just how bad could it be?” “Famous last words, Aesop,” the girl remarked with a small chuckle.
“I believe in you. I’d trust you with my life, and I trust you with my hair as well,” he said then, his voice quiet and impossibly soft, his fingers stroking her jaw and cheeks, his dark eyes boring into hers, nearly mesmerisingly.
“Oh, alright then,” she relented with an exhale of hair after several seconds. “But if you end up looking like a half-plucked Augurey by the time I’m done, that’s on you.”
He only laughed and tackled her on the bed once more.
The next day, Aesop sat on a chair in his kitchen, and his young lover was fastening a tablecloth acting as a makeshift hairdresser’s sheet under his neck. She then brushed his hair until it was completely neat and tangle-free, something Aesop very much enjoyed. So much so, that his eyes were once more closed in bliss, and he released a small groan every now and then. It would seem that the young woman too was finding some comfort in this action, her free hand helping along, spreading the locks from each other. 
In that moment, the esteemed potions master reminded the young woman of a purring cat. A nearly two metres overgrown one, but a very content cat nevertheless.
Then, however, she tensed. Aesop opened his eyes and noticed she was holding a pair of scissors. He reached for her other hand, still in his hair. “It’ll be fine,” he promised and pressed a kiss against her hand. 
She got to work then, carefully measuring each lock before snipping the unwanted excess away. Hair soon littered the floor and slowly slid down the tablecloth in fine strands. She was being very careful with him, and Aesop was enjoying the intimacy of this simple activity. The silence of the room was broken only by the soft snipping of the scissors and the birds singing outside. “This is not that bad,” she said happily, calmer now as his usual haircut was becoming reality under her clever hands, “just don’t ask me to help shave you too, even if you do have blood replenishing potion around here.”
“I do, of course,” he teased, “but don’t worry. Shaving is something I do myself without a problem. Any requests? Shall I shave fully the next time I’m at it?” “Don’t you dare,” she warned, “I wouldn’t kiss you until it grew back. I love your beard.” He laughed, his chuckles making him shake slightly, and earning him small protests from the girl.
Suddenly, the steady sounds of snipping stopped, and Aesop opened one eye. “Sweetheart?” he asked. “Oh no… no no no no no…” she said, her voice getting more panicked by the second. “What happened?” Aesop inquired again.
“Aesop, I’m so so sorry, I don’t-... I don’t know how it happened, I’m so sorry,” came her rushed apology. “Calm down, love! Bring me a mirror, show me,” he insisted, cutting her speech short. Soon, a mirror was placed in his hand, and he angled it until he caught the sight of another mirror held by her. Indeed, one of the locks of his hair was considerably shorter than the others. However, other than that, it seemed his sweetheart did a pretty solid job, and his hair was nearly back to his preferred state.
“It’s not that bad,” he attempted to placate her, but it seemed he was fighting a lost battle, the girl was clearly distressed. He did the only thing that came to mind - he turned around and used his hands to take hold of her waist. Mindful of the scissors she was still holding in her hand, he pulled her closer and then made her sit on his lap. It was slightly awkward due to the tablecloth covering him, but he managed. His arms curled around her, and his lips found her lips in a small, soft kiss.
“You’re not cross with me?” she asked shyly. “How could I be cross with you?” he grinned, “you said so yourself! If I end up looking like a half-plucked Augurey, that’s on me. Except I do not look like one, I merely have one stray lock of hair that’s shorter than the rest. You’re doing so good otherwise!” She was still pouting a little bit, playing with the scissors in her hand. “Besides, wizards can regrow their hair fairly quickly by will. Give it a while, and you won’t even know where the hair was shorter.”
Finally, she looked up: “Really?” “Really,” he confirmed, “do you want to finish it? If you’re not feeling comfortable, I can take it from here - I think I should manage fairly easily now.” The young woman considered for a moment, but then she stood up from his lap and took a firm hold of the scissors once more. “I promise to be more careful,” she said then with a little smile. 
“I don’t doubt it one bit,” he replied, closing his eyes once more.
---
Thank you for reading! ❤
[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]
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wannabepoeticischiya · 1 month ago
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if I can stop one heart from breaking
[ 05 ] — the chance taken
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He existed in the morning dew, in the afternoon haze, within the illusions of twilight. He was there. In the silence of midnight, in the wake of dawn... he was there.
Hoshina Soushiro was everywhere... except right here. He existed in every corner of the cosmos-just not in the space beside her.
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[Name] has occupied the gardens for herself, the one near her quarters; solace in her trying times. It appears that her chances with fate had a weekly interval, a queue—so to speak. The young woman did not know whether she should be thankful that she had the opportunity to recover from her little scene or be infuriated that she had, once again, been deprived of him.
Fourteen days and a night had passed since she had first set foot into his home. Two weeks of losing her composure at the tiniest reminders of his existence. At the same time, two weeks full of uneventfulness.
Her meals were brought to her room three times a day by the same servant who had opened her door and found Soushiro nearly suffocated to death. It was safe to say Aoi had widened the distance between them after that, saying no words to her aside from the usual pleasantries. [Name] tried to break the ice with her, asking the helper a few polite questions—enough to get her to open up a little. Still, Aoi answered dryly; sufficiently informative, true... but her constraint in them all was ample proof that she did not intend to be friends with the Uehara heir.
It was boring, to put it nicely.
[Name] was free to roam the place, but it remained that Soushiro—with the recent addition of Shin (who had yet to finish his punishment), were the only people in this place willing to speak to her. It was no different from the clan she had come from.
Others would assume that she had a lot of friends. From anyone's position, she was practically a princess—and she is. And that was the same reason why no one would approach her. She felt like someone who could not be reached. [Name] shone so vividly that the people around her thought it was best that she remained that way: alone and bathed in importance.
Would that be the same here, too?
A flash of violet split her vision open, soft smiles and wine-red irises flowing in its wake.
It felt strange.
[Name] wasn't one to believe in the idea of soulmates—to have somebody out there, in this infinite vastness, made just for you. It was insane. Preposterous! But when his image shoots through the canvas of her skies, she thought that maybe—just maybe—even someone like her... could be loved by somebody like him.
Domed by an eternal blue ether in the season of fall, caresses of the gentle breeze ruffled the loose hair on the base of her neck. Her clothed feet dangling in the space between the engawa and the earth. The beams of the setting sun colored her face golden, casting her shadow to paint over the walls behind her in elongated strokes.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
[Name] could not stop a grin from splitting her face open. In that moment, she truly felt lucky that her back was turned to him lest he'd see just how much his presence affected her.
"Ah, Soushiro..." The woman acknowledged, not fully realizing that she had already—albeit unknowingly—answered his question just by speaking his name. "Are you done with tormenting poor little Shin-chan?" [Name] craned her neck to look at him from past her shoulders, finding that he too, had been awaiting this moment just as much as she had.
Hoshina let out a snort tangled with a scoff, like he couldn't decide which should have weighed more: his petty jealousy of Shin, or the irony that he gave hell on earth to the poor boy.
"That little runt had it coming." His strides were long, eager to sit right next to her, as he had been for the last thirteen days. But he wouldn't admit to that.
[Name] traced his figure as he crossed the distance that separated their bodies. Soushiro was out of his training clothes, dressed in an earth-colored yukata that only reached past his ankles. He was barefoot, she noted; feet shaded a hue of pink—from running, she supposed. But what was he running for?
"So, are you going to tell me what's got your pretty little head in a wrap or am I going to have to guess?" Soushiro occupied the space next to her, so close that if he moved even a millimeter, the loose ends of his attire would graze hers.
[Name] averted her stare, choosing to let her eyes settle on the far distance. "You know, I was gonna tell you, but I might just have to take you up on the offer of guessing since you backhandedly called me an idiot."
Soushiro froze at her accusation, his hand that longed to touch her stopping halfway. Not wanting to be caught like that, he redirected its course to raise them both in gentle surrender.
"Why I would never!" He pleaded.
"All I'm hearing are excuses."
Hoshina beamed at her. "Hey," he called. But when [Name] turned her head to set him completely out of her sight, his smile faded just a little. "My pretty princess [Name]~" This gravitated her stare towards him, an aggravated hue coloring her face. And the redness that decorated her cheeks made his heart soar even higher.
He leaned in closer to her, feeling the heat radiate off her body. Oh, how he loved every bit of it. Once more, his hand reached to brush the canvas of her face—and this time, his fingers had found their haven.
"Alright, fine. I'm sorry." He whispered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You gonna tell me now?"
Soushiro retreated, easing his hand to break away from their anchor, sweeping past the mountains of her lips.
"Just that..." She began, stealing little glimpses at him from under her lashes. She was so cute.
"No. No way—you're gonna laugh at me." [Name] shook her head in protest, whatever she was planning to say, Soushiro couldn't wait to hear it. Her palms pressed against his chest, urging him to move away—and he did, only because it gave him a bigger view of her flustered state.
"Whaaat? I would be caught with a knife to my throat if I laugh at the great [Name]-sama!"
The sharp glares [Name] directed his way sent him spiraling into submission. Soushiro wouldn't mind having to woo her again like he did a few moments ago, but he also didn't want her to be angry at him.
"Oh, fine. I promise I won't laugh." Hoshina held a hand over his heart, hoping she would take it as a sign of his sincerity. "There, care to spill the beans now?"
"Just that I would be lucky..." she whispered, fingers inching closer to where his hand rested, stopping before they could touch, "...if I could marry someone like you."
His world came to a standstill. Every star nestled in the depths of the cosmos had ceased their dance. Blackholes frozen mid-spin. Nebulas that scattered like clouds lulling at the echo of her words. It drifted from galaxy to galaxy, in different timelines, in every version of existence. He could never have fathomed the gravity of those words, pulling every world he built, the doubts, the longing, every molecule of eagerness... they collided, spun, condensed, and burst forth to resound her words for all the eternities to come.
And he could do nothing but watch. To stare wide-eyed at the girl's revelation.
"What? You asked me a question and I answered. Don't act so surprised."
Everything began spinning fast—too fast. The colors around him merged, blurring his surroundings until all he could see was her. [Name], his memory reminded. Oh, but how could he ever forget? Not when she was looking at him like that—like one word from him would send her to paradise. He should be the one looking at her like that. Because as it stands, he was already there—in paradise—even if she chooses to stay in silence.
"W-Well—I—I just didn't expect that answer that's all." Soushiro could have sworn he had spoken these words to her before, just under different circumstances. 
Now, the air of his pompousness had been blown away seeing as he was pulling every tooth and nail to bury his blushing face behind the back of his hand, faking a cough in the process just so he could pretend he that he didn't just see the entire universe reform at the magnitude of her words.
[Name] laughed at his expression, raising a hand to cradle the side of her cheek. "Gotta accept the facts once you're faced with 'em."
Hoshina could barely see, he reckons his pupils were dilated to the brim. His throat felt dry, every word that he wanted to set into the twilight had raced right back down his throat. The air in his lungs came in short stutters. Every vein and artery in his body bubbled in heat. She was gonna be the death of him.
"We're a clan known for being in the Defense Force so the little trivial matters like betrothals escape the public eye." [Name] took note of his rigid state. So, she moved to close the distance that separated them, waving a hand over his face to see if he was still conscious. Soushiro looked like he wasn't even breathing anymore, and [Name] could only wonder why.
"How is getting married a trivial matter?" Soushiro asked, forcibly yanking the words out of his chest—flabbergasted at the lack of thought the woman had put into what he revered as one of the greatest honor and responsibility he could ever be lucky enough to have in his life.
"Because it is." She smiled, brushing away the strands of his hair that blocked her vision of him.
Soushiro spoke her name in a tone so gentle it felt like the stars after a storm, "You don't get into a relationship for convenience." He rebuked.
Hoshina curled his fingers into fists, the peaks of his knuckles shaded with the color of snow from the intensity of his grip. The swordsman tried to ignore the caresses of her digits. Desperately, he tried to pay no mind to the touch of her shoulder, the skim of her clothed feet with his bare ones, the tickle of her hair on his skin.
Her touches felt like fire. And he was the one who danced in their flames.
"You're right, you get into a marriage for convenience." He thought he was gonna lose it when her cheek rested on his shoulder—even more so when his own arm circled its way to cage her body to him.
"No!" Soushiro would reprimand.
And [Name] would laugh and say, "I'm just messing with you."
Their eyes met each other, and for a moment—stillness blanketed what distance was left between them, crossing the valleys of their thoughts, meadows of their most fervent dreams, gardens of their innermost desires, lulling them all. Until it finally reached the place where their souls gazed at one another from afar, longingly reaching out yet hesitating to take the single step that would blur the lines between not quite friends but not lovers either.
"You asked me..." she began, unsure if she would reveal something that might push him away, but she took one look—just one look—at him... and felt that everything was going to be alright. That she could unravel it all and he would still stay—he could still look at her like she couldn't be anything but herself.
"My clan... is revered for marrying off their daughters. Women there are raised from birth to be wives, mistresses, concubines... anything that can serve, women that will obey. In a way, they believed it was a convenient way to gather as many allies as possible and give them ties to many influential families; effective during the previous centuries—well, I guess it still is now. We were taught that the best way to support your husband is by staying out of his way. To be as little as possible. To look at his feet and never at anything else. To hear his every command and carry it out without fail."
"That's why..." she breathed, feeling that all too familiar sensation rising in the horizons of her eyes, "...why I'm here. So, I can marry one of your clansmen, so I can marry into your family." [Name] found it difficult to look into his eyes after revealing her true purpose. She wanted to break free from his hold on her. She felt dirty, like she had betrayed him despite them not having a formal agreement on anything. But he held her tighter—closer... because he didn't want to let her go.
"One of my clansmen?" Soushiro found himself echoing, as though the sheer mention of it would have been enough to burn the threads of fate.
[Name] could only look away, prying his fingers open—a silent plea to let her go.
"That's too bad..." He muttered, finally letting his hand fall from heaven.
But he smiled again; acting like this wasn't causing anarchy in the worlds he had built. "Gosh, at this rate I'll lose all my hair by the time I hit my thirties! To think, I have to be the one whose ear you nag off when your future husband falls short of your highness' expectations." He joked, hands flailing wildly—because beyond her, they did not know where to be.
"I'm being serious Hiro." A breath failed to enter her lungs, leaving the first syllable of his name unsaid; the rest of her words were an exasperated sigh. [Name] did not know how he could take this so... lightly when, for her, the skies had already begun to shatter, preparing for when they would rejoin the earth.
But Soushiro's world had already burned.
Hiro... I quite like that.
"Well, so am I, [Nickname]." He mused, leaning closer to her; so close that his nose would touch hers if he would lower his face just a little bit more. "Don't think for a second that I'll stop being here for you once you get married to one of my sorry excuse for a relative."
At the thought, Soushiro relented; allowing his forehead to rest on hers. Her warmth blossomed like a field of flowers. And he reveled in them because he feared that he might never get the chance again once he pulled away.
"This..." [Name] found the weight upon her shoulders doubling. Like they had gained a thousand tons at his response. Regret. A heated knife stabbed straight through her heart. Foolishness. If only she had not continued her pursuit of him. Anger. At destiny—for allowing them to meet, just to tear them apart.
"Hm?"
Acceptance. The cool air soothed her scorching spirit, which was odd... because it erupted from the space above her eyes, seeping through the cracks like rain. It formed ripples in the stagnant waters of her soul, casting droplets to scatter; to form what she could only describe as hope. Hope that this moment could last a little longer.
"This is why I'd be lucky if I could marry someone like you..." Her arms found anchor in the oceans of fabric that he wore, crushing the once smooth surface of them. [Name] submerged her face in the space where his collarbones met his shoulder, because it would be easier to breathe in his scent than to stare at his eyes when hers would reflect every glimmer of sadness at their unfortunate situation.
"That again?" He groaned, sending vibrations to rattle the gloom surrounding her heart. "You don't have to rub it in that you're getting hitched, you know?" His voice wavered, like he still could not bring himself to believe that he was going to lose his chance—that he was defeated before he even got the chance to fight.
"It's true!" Soushiro met her stare—sorrow that gazed at defiance.
"Why is that?" When he queried her declaration—right then and there, he made up his mind that he would parry all odds. That he would go against the heavens, he'd even traverse the abyss if that was what it took to hold her in his arms.
"Because you're easy to be around."
Because one look at her... just one, and everything in his world ridden in ashes had risen to life.
"I'm not exactly sure if that's a compliment or an insult."
[Name] melted from her freezing grip on him, keeping herself a few breaths away—because she wasn't so sure if she could leave if he held her again.
"It's just—it's because..." She found it hard to choose the right words, her habit of filling in the void, resurfacing to take control. Her fingers curled the fabric of her clothing, her stare coming in and out of focus.
Only after what felt like a century did the words spill from her lips.
"I don't have to pretend around you."
Her declaration flowed as easily as she breathed. Finding that it was the very reason why she had no qualms telling him all that she was despite having known him for less than a lifetime. "There's no Lady Uehara here, no prim and proper princess behavior, no damsel in distress, the invisible—take as little space possible—girl. I'm not the person raised only to be a wife to anyone."
"You don't look at me like I'm beneath you, Soushiro. Or that I'm lacking in any way. I—I don't really understand it myself but you... you... you look at me and you just see me, you see [Name]. And I... I look at you—" She turned towards him in frantic breaths. Her senses felt jumbled, she was tasting colors, seeing her emotions, feeling the touch of shapes. Yet, her erratic world slowed to a stop when her eyes met his... and she found herself whispering the rest of her heart to him, "I look at you... and—and I'm home."
"That's why..."
I'll be the luckiest person in the universe if I could marry you.
[Name] nailed her eyes shut; fearful of the sight that would greet her should she let her curiosity gain the upper hand. Would he look at her in pity? In shame? Or perhaps—perhaps in contempt...
She opened her mouth to retract her words, at least—her mind had wanted to, but her heart held her tongue in a tight leash.
Heat ignited at the mountains of her cheeks, spreading to burn the expanse of her face. [Name]'s irises burst to stare at the hand that cradled one side of her head, tilting it up so the bearer could look at her.
"So why don't you?" His breath felt like fire, like mirrors of sound traversing great distances just so they could disappear into the depths of her ears.
[Name] was taken aback at his forwardness. Did he mean that as a question of what if? Surely, he couldn't—oh but why would he? How could [Name] ever think that he would jest of such a matter when he acted like that...
Not when his hand radiated warmth, lulling her to comfort. Or his voice that covered her in serenity. Not when his presence feels like home in every passing lifetime.
It was her; it was [Name]... who could not bring herself to hope—a different kind of hope. To desire a tomorrow that would break her family's heart but would leave hers dancing in the wake of stars.
"If you haven't already heard," Hoshina met her eyes, patiently waiting to hear what she had to say, "Blade instructors aren't exactly the ideal marriage material in the heads of those old croons."
Soushiro stilled at her words.
"Blade Instructor?" He echoed. [Name]'s idea of him is that he was a blade instructor—he is, he wouldn't deny... but did she really not know—
"Do you read stories, Soushiro?" The swordsman turned his focus to her as she removed the anchors of his fingers on her face, intertwining them with her own. "Some would depict a peasant girl and a prince," and they felt like everything he had dreamed of and more. "A knight and a princess. A human and an immortal. Demons and hunters. And they would all end in the same way."
Of his true identity?
"In tragedy." And [Name] let go, allowing his hand to fall aimlessly onto her lap.
"Some stories will never get a chance to start... all because time will never let them. It won't wait for the planets to align. Because the world doesn't stop for people who are in love."
Hoshina knew of the words she spoke of with so much familiarity. He knew what it meant to go against the tides. To try and counter all the odds of the world. He knew it all... because he was the very proof of that. Whether it would be his desire to fight with a blade, or his dream to stand by her side. He knew it very well.
"Do you really believe that?" He mumbled, burning daggers at the sight of his hand resting on the surface of her clothing. "Is that really how you see this as?" Unable to tame his emotions that raged like a storm. "A small delight that will drown in despair?"
Soushiro wanted her to say no. For [Name] to deny every truth that loomed over them like a predator. He wanted her to take his hand once more and say that she'd see this through with him even if it meant that all the galaxies in the universe would cease to exist.
"You have to accept the facts once you're faced with them." But [Name] doesn't laugh. Her smile never reached the skies of her eyes. It looked magnetized, curving upward simply because she did not want them to be dragged down.
But that would be selfish. He thought. It would be far too self-serving of me to ask her to abandon everything, to ask her to turn her back on all that she's ever known... when all she would get is me.
"Doesn't it ever occur to you that they try?"
His words drowned in the depths of twilight. The gardens were no longer painted golden but a deep midnight blue, shrouding all in its wake with the frigidness of autumn. No longer were they under the rays of the sun rather, they were caged in the limelight of the moon.
"What?"
"The people in your stories..." He directed, "Do you really think that they didn't fight for what they had?" Once more, he tried to reach for the roots of her fingers—yet he faltered, his heart would not let him. "The things they tried to bargain. The people they had to hurt—had to stand up to. The responsibilities they had to abandon. Did you ever stop to think about what would happen if they had won?"
"Of course I did!" [Name] countered, feeling that unwelcome pressure prod at the back of her head. "Tell me now, Soushiro, of what is to come after that? What would happen next after they get what they want? Two people joyously laughing while the world falls to ruin—"
"Then let it stay in ruin."
His voice was strong, like he meant every single syllable—and he did. Soushiro knew he would do anything. And that was the part that riddled his heart in fear. If she was taken to the other side of the planet, his first instinct would be to cut the world to pieces to find her. If she ceased to exist in this rift in time, he would travel lifetimes; search the crevices of the universe to see where she's gone. If she were to ask to see him, he would drop everything and come running.
"Why save something that denied you every right to be happy? Why should the world celebrate in joy and let you cry in isolation and sorrow?"
His forehead kissed hers, drinking in the scent that lingered around her like sunshine after a rainy day. Soushiro's eyes remained shut. His heart beating so frantically he swore [Name] could hear it. His hands found solace in the lands of her cheeks, wiping the tears that fell from the leaves of her lashes.
"Why do you deny yourself of happiness, [Name]? Why can't you—"
Why can't you just let me love you?
Would it be so hard? Is it that much of a challenge to take him as he was? To let Soushiro share the weight on her shoulders? If she knew of his true distinction, would she act the same? Of course, she would not. Perhaps it would have been easier if he had come clean from the beginning. If Soushiro had told her who he was, maybe [Name] would not have reached the horizons of despair. Perhaps he could have spoken to his father, to strike a deal with him for her hand... just like in those fairytales.
Yet, she still cried...
Did she cry at the notion that she could not accept him? Her image of him as a swordsman? Or his being as a whole?
But she shed tears, nonetheless.
And every cell in his body ached at the thought that he was the cause of it.
But none of those reasons were true. Because her world crumbled from the idea that Soushiro would not accept her.
"Because you wouldn't accept!" [Name] confessed, her hands raising to blanket the meadows of his face—finding that it had no rain, unlike her own.
His answer would come in whispers, "You don't know that" he would say, as gentle as the winds. And that gave her heart hope—enough to question all the doubts that ravaged the valleys of her thoughts.
"I do—because how could you..."
How could you? When this is all that I am...
Soushiro gave in to the touch of her hands. Nuzzling his cheek into their warmth—trying his best to take it all in.
His fingers slipped through the cracks of her fingers, hugging them between his own. Her hand that remained rested on his cheek had been covered by his palm, bringing it close—so close that his lips brushed the valleys of her wrist if he so much as breathed.
Soushiro looked at her from under his lashes, finding her face shaded in a hue he loved on her. "How would I accept if you never even asked?" As he spoke those sentiments, his lips met the inside of her palm. Gentle. Soothing. Cradled under the skies of his adoration for her.
"W-What?" [Name] tried to pry her hand from his hold, yet it stayed gravitated in his orbit. "No... don't—don't say things like that." She would say, but deep inside... his words gave her hope.
"I would gladly marry you, Lady [Name]..." Soushiro's eyes reflected every grain of sincerity and honesty he owned. As he laid his heart bare for hers to take, he leaned to meet his forehead with hers—whispering his heart out to the world, "If you would have me."
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steddieunderdogfics · 8 months ago
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Medusapelagia! They have 131 fics written for the Stranger Things fandom and 92 of those fics are in the Steddie tag!
The nominator recommends the following works by @medusapelagia:
I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side)
You're the home my heart searched for so long
The Party
It can't rain all the time
"They are such a bright light within the Steddie Event side of the fandom! Always encouraging others and offering support. They're so creative and have a fic for everyone!!" - anonymous
Below the cut, @medusapelagia answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
Because I’m obsessed with them! It’s the first time I write fics in years and the first time I do that in English, but it was so clear that Steve and Eddie were meant to be together that I got back into reading, and then writing, Steddie fics as soon as Season 4 ended! Have you seen how they look at each other? The love story is already there! The Duffer Brothers did us a big favor and gave us the possibility to give them thousands of different stories in different timelines and different universes: how could I not join when there is so much to write?
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I love pain: you can put my heart through a meat grinder and I'll say "Thank you!" IF you promise me a happy ending. I'm ready to cry with the characters but in the end it must be worth it, that's why Angst and Hurt/comfort are my favorite tropes (always with a happy ending).
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
I love writing about feelings and I need A LOT of time to get the characters where I want them, that's why almost everything I write is Slow Burn… and Angst with a happy ending, but that's another story!
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
This is SO hard so… I’m going to cheat a little and give you three. The first fic I was obsessed with in 2022: wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name by DotyTakeThisDown a modern AU where Eddie is the owner of BDSM Club; My guilty pleasure: I Made Loving You A Blood Sport by Eddywow I love everything they write but this omegaverse fic it's absolutely my favorite; And my latest obsession: a man after midnight (professional dom eddie fic) a series by lydiah135 with a Transmasculine Dom Eddie.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
Oh yes!!! I’m working on a new troupe for my Reverse Big Bang fic (can’t spoil it, sorry) and I’m so excited about it! It’s absolutely the first time that I’m working with this troupe and I’m so eager to share it with everyone! Another new troupe I’m working on is... Supernatural. I have two fics I’m working on right now but I have many events with a deadline (I’m addicted to ST events!) so I don’t know when I will actually start to post them.
What is your writing process like?
A complete chaos! I have an idea about the beginning of my story and how I would like to end it and I try to follow a particular vibe: what happens in the middle it’s just me trying to convince my characters to get where I want them (and I must admit that we aren’t always on the same page!). A few times I tried to plot ahead and it was a peculiar feeling: on one side when I finally got the time to write (usually after dinner and before bed) I had an outline so I didn't get blank page panic, but on the other side I got bored because I already knew the story.
Do you have any writing quirks?
I’m a fast writer and I want to get to the end of the story as soon as I can (both as a reader and as a writer) which means that sometimes I have to edit and slow down the pace a bit, and… I write a lot of dialogues.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
They are two completely different ways of writing: posting on schedule assures you some interactions (which helps you get motivated to continue the story), on the other side right now I’m working on a some projects for some events and writing a complete story gives you the opportunity to fix something you might have missed or not written because in your mind it was implied (spoiler alert: probably it wasn’t!) but not having interactions can be hard, and I'm so happy I meet some friends online that can give me some pieces of advice when in doubt!
Which fic are you most proud of?
There are two (yeah… I’m cheating again! Sorry!). The first one is Guilty, because it’s the first fic I ever wrote in English, the second one is Never Again, because it’s a double timeline and a double POV and I managed to get to. the end without plotting or getting lost somewhere!
How did you get the idea for I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side)?
I saw Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake (it's a male version of the famous ballet) and, in my mind, it was perfect with Steve’s story (my headcanon Steve obviously) so I was trying to find the right plot and I had this image in my mind of the ballerina carillon and I couldn't find a way to mix those two things. Then someone on Twitter suggested an Omegaverse Ballet AU fic and it immediately clicked with me: the connection between the carillon and the Swan Lake was Omega Steve! I asked the idea owner if they were fine with me writing the story they suggested, they said yes, and I started writing it… but I didn’t post it until I was at chapter 6 or 7 because it was my first Omegaverse fic and I was scared that everyone would have hated it or that I would have written something wrong or whatever. Then two of my favorite writers wrote a post on Tumblr about the fact that everyone should write what they like and it feels obvious, right? But sometimes facing external opinions can be scary. So I gathered my courage and took it as a sign: the next day I woke up at 4 am and I posted the first chapter because I was having so much fun writing it that I decided it deserved to be shared and I’m glad I did.
When writing It can't rain all the time, what was something you didn’t expect?
That someone else would have liked it! It’s a Crow AU and the Crow is a very, very, very dark story (both the movie and the comics) but it’s one of my favorite movies ever and I saw so many similarities between Eric Draven and Eddie Munson that when the idea came to my mind I wonder how was it possible that no one else thought about it! It's peculiar that after I started to post it I saw some artists draw Eddie as Eric (maybe it was a happy coincidence, maybe it was just the algorithm, anyway I'm glad someone else saw the similarities too!).
What inspired You're the home my heart searched for so long?
That story comes from a prompt that I saw during the Steddie Holiday Exchange and I immediately fell in love with it and I was SO happy when it was assigned to me! Still… I had some difficulties at the beginning. The first version of the story wasn’t good: I was writing it from Steve’s POV and it was super sad and I started to panic a little bit because I knew I had a deadline and I didn’t want to disappoint my giftee. Thankfully I brainstormed with some friends (brainstorming is my favorite thing ever!) and finally got the idea of Famous Influencer Steve, which led me to change the POV of the story to Eddie’s POV and from that moment on everything fell in place like magic! I also had to add a few Shrek references to my story and it was a little bit tricky but in the end, I think I’m satisfied with my story.
What was your favorite part to write from I'm so good at telling lies (That came from my mother's side)?
I loved writing the OCs that perform (and sometimes live) at the Crooked Moon. The idea of the Crooked Moon is vaguely inspired by Land of the Dead in Tim Burton's The Corpse Bride: they are the strangest kind of pack ever but everything at the Crooked Moon is bright and colorful, and they give Steve the support he needs to be finally himself.
How do/did you feel writing The party?
Oh… the party is… a sad story (with a happy ending). Is anyone surprised? It's a fic I wrote for the Steddie Week, the first event I joined and at the time I wasn't even on Tumblr. I love to torture Steve (that's why no character is eager to be my favorite I think…) and I felt like his birthday should have been on a date that everyone could have forgotten easily, so I decided that his birthday was on the 25th of December: a day when everyone is busy spending time with their family while Steve would be left home alone. And just to add trauma to trauma I added my personal experience as a gift giver! I'm a pretty good one: I listen a lot, I take notes and I buy presents months before. On the other side, no one does the same for me and I usually get money which, don't get me wrong, is great, but what I like the most about gifts (and so does Steve because I'm absolutely projecting on him!) is taking the time to search for something that the other person might like. It's not about the object, per se, but it's about the time and the care you put into it, it's a way of saying "I care about you." instead of "I didn't know what to get you so buy yourself what you want." If there is any other gift giver who lives the same trauma as me we can go to therapy together!
What was the most difficult part of writing You're the home my heart searched for so long?
The smut. It was my first smut fic ever and it wasn't super easy, but luckily I had a friend who read a couple of parts of it and gave me a few pieces of advice (thank you!!!). It was a fic with a masseur Eddie: I needed to write some smut no matter what!
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
I love bratty Steve and I don’t write it enough, so this is a little banter between him and Eddie from My lucky charm, an omegaverse fic. <<Steve stiffens for a moment, then comes back to his sweet attitude and sits near Eddie, playing with his hair. “I didn’t think you were the kind of owner who plays. What do they say? Oh, yes, the house always wins, right?” “Sometimes I like some action too.” Eddie replies and takes the dice, “Why don’t you blow on my dice? For good luck.” Steve bends and blows gently on Eddie’s hand, then the owner of the casino turns toward the guard and makes a little gesture: they grab the old alpha and drag him away “You know what? I don’t think I’ll play. I don’t like these dice.” Eddie states. “Why not?” Steve asks with a little wrinkle on his perfect skin. “Because they are loaded dice.” Eddie replies and lets the dice fall on the green table with a seven. “Maybe you are just lucky.” Steve replies, still smiling. The omega has removed his patches and the sweet scent of lemon and lavender is filling the room. “I see what you are doing, sugar, but I’ll not get feral over your incredible smell. As you said, I’m the young owner of a casino, I’m trained to detect who is cheating and I will not fall for you.”>>
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
At the moment I’m working really hard on my Reverse Big Bang fic and My Steddie VDay Exchange and I can’t wait to share them.
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
I’m absolutely astonished, flattered and honored that someone thought about me for Writer’s Spotlight Day so I would like to thank the person who nominated me and the mods for giving space to all the beautiful stories that we might have missed in such a big fandom. Thank you for having me and I look forward to the next fics rec! Medusa
Thank you to our author, @medusapelagia! See more of @medusapelagia works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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thissortofsorcery · 1 year ago
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Just to Keep the World at Bay - Chapter 3 (read on AO3)
(image of the puzzle is at the end of the post)
“We’re supposed to do what?”
Billy can’t have heard right. But Coach Nelson is, in fact, holding a puzzle box in his hands and staring them down, unwavering. 
“Solve a puzzle, Hargrove. Together. Or did you think I’d put the two of you running circles around the court for an hour?” He asks, the sardonic tone of his voice accentuated by a thick, raised eyebrow.
This is not how Billy thought doing detention with Harrington for a week would go. Coach Nelson had tracked Billy down at lunch to let him know he was supposed to meet him and Harrington in his office after school let out, and at three thirty Billy marched himself to the gym hallway, ready to be bored out of his mind for the next hour.
Now Coach's frowning at him like he’s offended Billy thought so low of his creativity for detention activities, but, to be fair, all Billy’s ever done in detention is sit at a desk and do homework. 
Billy glances at Harrington, and finds the same confusion he’s feeling staring back at him. 
“A puzzle?” Harrington asks, brows pulled together. 
Coach sighs. "A puzzle." He shakes the box at them. It has the picture of a bunch of dogs and kittens laying on a blanket and playing with yarn in a wintery background. "The two of you are going to assemble a 500 piece puzzle for an hour over the next four days, working together. I'll keep the unfinished puzzle safe here in between detentions. At the end of the week, you're going to have a nice picture that symbolizes friendship and teamwork that you're going to cherish forever. Understand?"
Well, at least they're not doing trust falls. This sounds exactly like any proactive, millennial team building bullshit Billy's ever heard of, but the fact that they're doing it indoors and don't have to try to walk with their legs tied together makes it a little better. 
"What happens if we don't finish it?" Harrington asks.
Coach gives him a look, "Then you do more detention until you're done. Until you learn to work together," He says, looking down on them like he's imagining they'll break out into a fistfight over puzzle pieces. And given that the last Coach seen of them was Billy punching Harrington, he must think it's within the realm of possibility.
Coach looks from Harrington to Billy slowly, like he’s measuring them. He’s been on the receiving end of these looks during practice often enough, and Coach Nelson has a way of looking at you like he’s staring into the depths of your soul. He’s a good coach, from what Billy’s seen, and an alright guy. He’s a tall, Black man, standing over both Billy and Harrington at six-foot-three, and a solid wall of muscle, dressed in his usual combo of a polo shirt and a dad hoodie. Today, his polo’s beige.
The long suffering look that Coach gives both boys makes him look old.
Anyway, Billy’s not gonna be the one to tell Coach Nelson that he and Steve settled their differences by having sex in the locker room the day before, and Harrington doesn't seem inclined to say anything, either. 
It’s better for them both that everyone in school keeps thinking that they don’t get along that well. Better for Billy to keep Harrington at arm’s length. If it ever gets out that he and Harrington had sex, Billy’s gotta make sure it doesn’t sound like anything more than a joke. 
The less people notice, the less they talk about, the less they wonder why he’s hanging out with Harrington all of the sudden. He’s not sure Harrington can come up with a reason why he’s hanging out with Billy fast enough other than he’s getting his dick sucked.
It’s just smarter to be careful.
(Continue reading on AO3)
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This is the puzzle they're solving! I just picked it out of google images, but I think it's available on amazon. I wanted it to be something silly and cute lol
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arielhopepeace · 2 years ago
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This photo shoot????? Daddy Joel is that you?
Also…
Part Six
18+ only
Tw: so much smut, degrading, praising, squirting (🤭), insecurities talk, daddy kink, also fluff of course I’m not an animal 🤪
6,500 words
  It's been a few days since you and Joel went on your ridiculously extravagant date that ended with the most passionate sex you've had. He held you the entire time, whispering how beautiful you are in your ear as you unraveled around him.
You spent the rest of the work week daydreaming about it, finding yourself zoning out at your computer screen as your thoughts were beautifully haunted by Joel's body.
Even now as you make yourself a light lunch on the counter at home, you can nearly hear the gentle praises he gave you as you took the entirety of his length inside of you. Your thighs clench and your eyes flutter closed as you reminisce, wishing you could relive that night any time it crosses your mind.
As if he can tell you're thinking about him, Joel texts you, seeing his name pop up on your phone screen. An immediate grin splashes onto your face, abandoning the sandwich that beckons for you to finish making it.
Joel
1:25pm
Football game starts at 4:30. Your dad wants people there at 2:00.
1:26pm
If only he were capable of telling me himself. Does he just forget he has a daughter?
Joel
1:30pm
No, baby. I don't know what his deal is, honestly. I'm sorry ❤️
1:31pm
It's okay. It's just annoying. I'll see you at 2:00 💕
Your smile has faded a bit, that hollow feeling your dad always gives you beginning to carve its way into your chest. You've learned to be hardened to the absence of him in your life and his lack of effort to spend time with you, but it still stings sometimes. You truly feel like your wonderful, nurturing mom deserves better, but you know she loves him more than anything in this world. She'd never leave him.
Setting those thoughts aside, you abandon your sandwich, deciding to just have lunch at your dad's football party instead. You wish it was being held at Joel's so that you could swim with him again, but your dad always was and always will be the host.
It's the politician in him that needs to be in control of every aspect of his life. Yet, he has no idea how his daughter feels about him, even though they work in the same fucking office.
You're trying to decide what you want to wear to this gathering, knowing you'd rather be casual than dressed up like you were for the barbecue. A skimpy sundress would be a temptation to Joel, but you opt for skin tight blue jeans and a sunflower-yellow crop top that both hug your feminine frame.
You’ve styled your hair down into two French braids, even going as far as to look up a YouTube tutorial to make sure you’re doing it right. The bands that sit wrapped around the ends of your hair match the team that you know Joel is rooting for. You’re really not super into sports, but you enjoy the excited atmosphere surrounding them. You wouldn’t pass up the chance to go to a game with Joel, even if you’d be slightly bored and needing to be explained the technicalities.
Sliding on your black Toms, you leave your house with your purse on your shoulder, locking the door behind you. As usual, Joel has left before you, the punctual man that he is. Sarah is with a friend for the entire weekend, meaning that you get a sneak-free two days for the first time ever. Of course you miss Sarah, but you love being alone with Joel more than anything.
Your parent’s house is packed with cars just like the barbecue, making you push the anxious energy within you out past your lips with a sigh. You park as close to Joel’s truck as you can, remembering your secret rendezvous the two of you had in there.
Stepping inside, you see almost everyone in a football jersey, some green, some red. You slip in past the unfamiliar bodies, making your way to the kitchen that is also littered with people.
You look around for Joel, not spotting him anywhere. The smell of hot wings makes your stomach growl, instantly searching for a plate to put food onto.
“Hi, y/n,” you hear an accented voice beside you.
You turn to see Harry sporting a wide grin and an emerald jersey. “Oh, hi,” you respond quietly. “My dad invited you?”
He nods. “He knows I’m a big Packers fan,” he chuckles. “Judging by your hair ties, I’d say you’re rooting for the other team.”
You laugh lightly. “Truthfully, I don’t really care. I’m here for the food.”
Harry sips from his beer bottle. “Ooo, I’m starving, but I don’t do spicy.”
Your brow quirks up. “Buffalo wings aren’t spicy.”
“They are to me! I’m from England, we don’t do spice.”
“Don’t you have curry?” you laugh.
“Yeah, but not anything spicy. It’d kill the whole country,” he chuckles.
You giggle with him, turning to get yourself a plate. “Well, there’s also pizza, unless the pepperoni is too spicy for you too.”
Harry gets beside you to grab one as well, setting his bottle down. “I should be okay,” he teases.
You feel a hand gently pulling on your arm, and you turn to see Joel with a soft smile on his handsome, bearded face. He’s wearing his crimson jersey that you can’t wait to get into tonight, and his hair is a tousled, untamed beauty.
“Hi,” you say softly, wrapping him into a quick, friendly hug. “I couldn’t find you.”
He backs away a bit after you part from the hug. “I was upstairs with your mom and dad. He was showing me the bathroom remodel.” His brown eyes look to Harry. “Who’s this?”
Harry turns with a grin, holding pizza in one hand as he outstretches the other. “I’m Harry, I work with the mayor as his speechwriter.”
Joel takes his hand, shaking it firmly. “Joel. I’m y/n’s—neighbor.”
“Oh, nice,” Harry smiles warmly as their hands part. “I’m gonna grab another beer. Would you like one, y/n?”
“Oh, uh, just a water, actually. Thanks.”
Harry walks away, leaving you and Joel standing with each other like strangers.
“He seems perfectly nice,” Joel says quietly, “and fond of you.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, he’s not being insufferable today. And fond of me? He only wants to get close to me to be even more up my dad’s ass, I bet.”
Joel chuckles, his eyes landing on yours. “As long as he’s not thinking about your ass, I don’t really care.”
“Well, I actually have this really hot boyfriend, so he’d never stand a chance anyway.”
He laughs boyishly, making you giggle with him. “Sounds like a lucky man.”
Harry returns with a frosty bottle of water, the cool plastic hitting your palm as you thank him for it. Joel leaves, your eyes following him only briefly to admire him in all his hot dad glory.
“Would you like to sit and eat with me?” Harry asks casually.
You pick your plate of wings and celery off of the counter, nodding as you walk with him to the dining room table where Harry sits around the corner of it beside you.
“You seem to hate me less today, which is nice,” he chuckles.
You laugh with him. “You’re not being pompous today, which is nice.”
Harry feigns offense. “That’s very rude coming from the mayor’s daughter.”
“I’m his daughter. That’s how I got so rude in the first place.”
Harry laughs with his head cocked back a bit, his loose brown curls moving with it. “I’m serious. I really think we got off on the wrong foot, and I just want to sincerely apologize. I shouldn’t have made that stupid joke.”
“It wasn’t just the joke, as I’ve told you. I don’t agree with you making a man lose his job.”
His brows pinch together. “I had the mayor get him a job as a judge’s stenographer. He was happy to do that for him, and the man was even happier to take the job. He still gets to write, only faster and he doesn’t have to create it.”
“How have you weaseled your way in to my dad and made him actually do something you suggested?”
Harry smirks, humor in his green eyes. “I have a way with words, darling. It’s how I got my job, and why I’ll succeed at a job like this.”
You shift at the pet name, not being overly fond of it. “And what’s your fascination with talking to me? You’ve already got my dad wrapped around your finger.”
He leans in on his elbows, getting your faces closer together. “Truthfully, I think you’re lovely. You’re absolutely stunning and have a sharp tongue; two things I admire in a woman.”
You can feel your cheeks heating involuntarily to the flattery, making you pull back a bit from him. “Thank you, Harry, but I’m—not looking to date anybody.”
He cocks his head. “Why not?”
“I’d rather focus on my career,” you lie. “I’m not interested in letting a relationship complicate my life.”
He smiles, his teeth flawlessly straight and white. “Relationships are only complicated if you make them that way. Otherwise, they’re a beautiful thing.”
“Yeah? Then why are you single?” you arch a brow as you smirk.
Harry guffaws, pushing a hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll tell you only if you tell me something about you as well.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“I’d like to know why your neighbor is so protective of you,” he points with his head to the left.
You turn to see Joel leaning against a wall in the living room, staring at you with a scowl fixed onto his face. You’d laugh out loud if you weren’t terrified of making things glaringly obvious that you and Joel are dating.
Your eyes meet Harry’s again. “He’s my dad’s best friend, so he’s a bit like a watch dog.”
Harry raises his brows as he chuckles. “Best friend and neighbor. Coincidental?”
“Oh, yeah. I had no idea he lived next door when I moved in a little over a month ago. Of course I’d been to his house, but not for a while. I just kind of forgot.”
He smiles. “I think it’s charming that he’s worried about you. That only means I’m something to worry about.”
“I’ll reassure him that you’re not,” you laugh, making Harry laugh with you. “Now, tell me why you’re single. Is it because they couldn’t handle your inflated ego?”
His laughter fades into a gentle smile. “No. She cheated on me, actually. We were together for three years. To be completely honest, I wanted to marry her.”
The humor on your lips fades as your eyes soften with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Harry. That’s—devastating.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t prevent me from trying again. I love love.”
“Maybe you aren’t so bad,” you smile, “but I still meant what I said. I’m really not looking right now.”
“Jesus, y/n, I’m not going to force you on a date with me,” he giggles. “I can handle rejection. I’m a big boy.”
Your phone vibrates from your back pocket, and you pull it out to see a text from Joel.
Joel
3:00pm
Upstairs bathroom.
You swallow thickly, tucking your phone back into your jeans as you finish your bottle of water. “Would you mind grabbing me another bottle while I run to the bathroom?”
Harry smiles warmly. “Of course not.”
“Thanks,” you beam back, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.
From the way Joel was peering at you, he looked as if he wanted to wring Harry’s neck, then yours next. You know he’d never actually do anything to hurt you, but the thought of him being angry with you terrifies you. All you want to do is make him happy, but he’s clearly not right now.
Making your way up the stairs, you check behind you to make there’s nobody watching or following you, and you slip into the large master bathroom, seeing Joel leaning against the counter, facing the mirror.
You lock the door behind yourself. “Are you okay?” you ask, unable to disguise the shakiness in your question.
Joel spins around with his hands outstretched towards you, pulling you against him as his mouth crashes to yours. His tongue is quick and neat as it rolls in your mouth, making your heart pound in your chest.
“You enjoying your time with Harry?” he asks gruffly as he begins to unbutton your jeans.
“Joel, I—”
He grips your face, making your lips squeeze together. “Is that my name, sweet girl?”
You shake your head, eyes blown wide with confusion and arousal.
“Start that sentence again for me.” He releases your face, pushing your panties down to rest around your thighs.
“Daddy, I’d rather talk to you,” you say quietly, watching as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
Joel spins you around, bending you over the counter. “Yeah? You seem to be perfectly content with him.”
You pull your lips in as he runs his firm tip through your soaking folds. “No!” you protest, “I’m not content with him.”
He continues to tease you, rubbing your button of nerves with his slick head. “Then why the fuck are you laughing so much?”
“Please,” you shudder, “stop teasing me.”
“Do you think I like watching you talk to him?” He gives you a rough smack to your ass cheek, making you yelp. “He wants to fuck you. I can tell by the way he looks at you. Is that what you want? You want to fuck him instead?”
“No!” you shout, shaking your head as you gaze at him through the mirror. “Only want you, daddy.”
Joel’s brows are furrowed as he slams into you from the back, making you cry out from the pain that twists with pleasure. You’ll never get used to the stretch of him, but you’ll always love it every damn time.
He keeps a hand on your hip to crash into you roughly, as the other rubs your dewy clit, making your eyebrows ruffle from the stimulation.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “Yes, please. Feel so good.”
“You’re mine, y/n, you hear me?” he asks between ragged breaths. “This cunt is mine.”
With a deep, painful thrust you groan, whimpering. “Yes, it’s yours.”
“You think anybody else could fuck you this good?” he grunts into you, bruising your hip.
Your thighs shake, your orgasm quickly approaching. “No!” you cry. “Nobody could.”
His fingers leave you, making you whimper and whine. Joel grabs your braids, gathering them into his palm like reins, forcing your head up to look at your fucked out reflection.
“Watch me fuck you,” he pants, his eyes squeezing shut briefly. “Look at what a whore you are for my cock.”
The degrading name makes you clench around him, moaning loudly as you watch your face twist in the mirror.
“Ooo,” he coos, “feel you tightening on me. You like being called a whore, baby?”
“Yes!” you admit, your cheeks reddening. “I love it.”
“God, you’re fucking soaking me. All because I let you know what a cock slut you are?” Joel chuckles darkly. “My girl is a fucking cock slut.”
You groan loudly, clenching on him again from everything he’s saying. He knows what calling you his girl does to you, and he’s using it at the most torturous time.
“Daddy,” you whimper, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes, “please let me cum.”
His pace is relentless, pushing into you quickly and harshly. “No,” he groans. “Gonna make you wait until I get you home. Want you to be just as fucking uncomfortable as I am watching you get eye-fucked by that British pretty boy.”
“Please,” you beg, watching your tears of desperation slide down your cheeks.
Joel groans, tilting his head back as he releases your braids, quickly withdrawing from you. “Get on your knees, baby.”
You’re instantly doing as he says, turning to him and wrapping your lips around his reddened, furious cock. He moans, gripping the back of your head as you take him as deep into your throat as you can, swirling your tongue on his shaft.
“Jesus fuck, y/n,” he peers down at you. “Doing such a good job sucking me. Wanna cum in that pretty little mouth.”
You moan as you nod your head, completely having checked out of your brain. The only thought is Joel and pleasing him, absolutely nothing else. You bob your head quickly, his cock tasting of you and him combined, making your entrance squeeze around absolutely nothing.
Joel cries out, taking your head and shoving it down onto his length until you’re coughing, feeling his release coating the back of your throat. Your hands are on his thighs, nails digging in to the soft skin as you wait to breathe again.
He pulls you off of him, a loud gasp coming from you as you pant, swallowing everything he left in your mouth. There’s a mixture of your spit, arousal, and tears on your chin, your nose sniffling as you watch Joel grab a roll of toilet paper.
Your eyes are still watering, your nose running from having him stuffed so far down your throat. Joel adjusts himself back into his jeans, getting onto his knees in front of you on the tile floor with the bathroom tissue.
He takes a few pieces of the thick paper, folding them on top of each other as he wipes your chin, his other hand cupping your face.
His thumb strokes your cheek. “You okay, baby?” he asks softly.
You nod, completely forgetting how to form a sentence.
Joel gathers more toilet paper, pressing the soft tissue below your leaking eyes, giving you a small, fond smile. “You did so good. That’s the first time you took all of me down your throat, hm?”
You nod again, resulting in a chuckle from Joel.
“Here, let me help you up.” Joel wraps his arms around your limp torso, guiding you upwards and leaning you against the bathroom counter.
He bends down slightly to pull up your panties, followed by your jeans. His hands adjust your crop top that somehow got flipped up a few times during everything. Joel wraps you into a sweet embrace that you fall into, clinging onto him.
“I’m not a jealous man, you know,” he says quietly. “But seeing you talk to Harry made me feel things I’ve never felt before.”
“I’m not interested in him,” you reply weakly, your throat completely wrecked. “Only you.”
Joel pulls away, tilting your chin up to gaze into your eyes. “I know,” his mouth hardens, “but he’s so much younger. And god, you didn’t tell me he looked like a fucking model.”
You giggle, peering at him through your lashes. “I don’t care what he looks like. I already told him I’m not looking.”
He cocks his head. “Did he ask you out?”
You shrug. “Kinda, yeah.”
Joel’s body stiffens. “Am I stupid for wanting to go down there and punch him in the face?”
“Joel,” you chuckle with a scold, “not stupid, but it’s unnecessary. I don’t care what he looks like. You are the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and I mean that.”
He kisses you gently on the lips. “You’re so good to me, y/n.” His nose traces down yours. “You still wet for me, baby?”
“Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “Uncomfortably.”
“Good. I’ll take care of you when we leave. You spending the night tonight?”
“If I ever answer no to that question, just assume I’ve been kidnapped and replaced with a stupid clone.”
Joel laughs loudly, giving you a soft, sweet kiss. How can he be so gentle after being so incredibly rough? You don’t care. All you can think about is the unsatisfied arousal between your thighs.
You head downstairs first, seeing Harry sitting at the table with the unopened bottle of water for you beside him.
You sit down with a slight wince, giving him an apologetic smile. “Hey, I’m sorry. I got a phone call.”
He beams wide. “I thought you just decided to not come back.”
“No,” you chuckle. “Just talking to a friend who needed me.”
“Are they okay?” he asks gently.
You nod. “Yes. Thank you.”
A little later, the game has started and you’re sitting beside a tipsy Harry. Joel is resting across the room from you, making you squirm under his constant alluring gaze. You’ve done nothing but perch uncomfortably since he left you a weeping mess between your thighs. You truly love when Joel is possessive like that, but you need your relief before you completely lose your mind.
Somebody scores a point, everyone in green cheering loudly, including Harry.
He smiles down at you, patting your leg quickly. “Thanks for hanging out with me, y/n. Nobody else here knows me, and your dad is rather distracted,” he gestures to the man in the red jersey who hasn’t said a word to you since you got here.
“As I said, you’re not as bad as you seemed.” You narrow your gaze at your father. “He’s always distracted with something.”
“Bad relationship?” he asks bluntly.
Your brows raise with surprise. “Oh, um—”
“Forgive me,” he shakes his head, “I’ve had a bit to drink, I don’t mean to pry.”
You giggle. “It’s fine, Harry. Truthfully, yes. He never talks to me and always puts his job first. He always has.”
“That’s shit,” he shakes his head. “I haven’t seen my dad in years, so I get where you’re coming from.” Harry’s glassy eyes meet yours. “You deserve better.”
Your heart twists, sending a pang of sadness throughout your chest, running up to your eyes. “I’ve given up trying to be in his life. He clearly doesn’t want me.”
Harry grips your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss against your knuckles. “No, darling. He’s just—a stupid man. He doesn’t deserve you to be his daughter.”
A tear slides down your reddened cheek, quickly swiping it away with your finger. “God, Harry. You didn’t have to make me cry,” you tease.
He chuckles. “I’m sorry. I just feel like you don’t know your worth, and you should. You’re very bright, you’re funny, kind, charming,” he licks his lips drunkenly, “lovely.”
“You’re very sweet, Harry. Thank you,” you say gently, patting the top of his hand that holds yours. You eye his left arm that’s riddled with black ink. “You’ve got a lot of those.”
He laughs. “Little over sixty.”
“Yeah?” you ask, surprised. “All on your arm?”
Harry shakes his head, lifting up his jersey to reveal a large butterfly on his toned abdomen. There are leaves on his pelvis, and mirrored swallows on his collar bone, as well as several others.
“Wow,” you reply with shock. “They’re nice.”
He drops his shirt, giving you a large smile. “And what about you?”
“God, no. At least not yet, anyway. Maybe one day.”
“Scared of needles?” he asks playfully, gently shoving you with his shoulder.
You laugh, pushing him back. “Only a little bit! I’d still get one, just haven’t landed on anything I like.”
“You have a good relationship with your mum? Get her initial or something. I’ve got my sister’s on my shoulder.”
Your eyes soften, admiring him. “That’s beautiful, Harry. I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“That’s because this is the first conversation you’ve had with me where you didn’t completely hate me.”
You laugh loudly, shaking your head. “Maybe if you acted this way all the time, I wouldn’t hate you.”
“Now I know not to make jokes,” he chuckles. “Or find someone a job better suited for them.”
You roll your eyes back, smirking. “God, shut up.”
“Would you like another water?” he gestures to your empty bottle.
“I can get it,” you laugh. “Thank you. Do you want another beer? Or should you hold off?”
“Fuck holding off. My team is winning!” he shouts, making you giggle.
You stand up, walking into the kitchen and bending down into the cold fridge, adoring the difference in temperature. It’s so hot being in the living room that’s jam packed with bodies that are all worked up and full of testosterone.
“Hey, I’m gonna take off,” you hear from behind you.
You turn to see Joel whose eyes are gentle but his body is stiff. “Already? The game isn’t over yet.”
He clutches his stomach a bit. “Yeah, I’m just not feeling too great right now. I think I’m getting sick.”
“Oh, no,” you frown, going to throw your arms around his neck but he stops you.
“Probably best if you don’t. Be bad if someone saw, right?” His voice lacks emotion, and you’re wondering why he’s acting this way.
Your eyes narrow a bit, backing away from him. “This is because of Harry, isn’t it?”
Joel is quiet for a minute, gazing at you with harsh brown eyes. “I don’t want to get into it right now.”
“So, you’re not actually sick. You’re just jealous and lying to me.”
His mouth hardens into a thin line. “Enough, y/n.”
“No,” you protest. “Did we not just establish that I’m yours and that Harry means nothing?” you keep your voice quiet.
“You’re enjoying his company. It’s not hard to see.”
“Am I not allowed to? He’s nice.”
“I thought you hated him,” he snaps back.
Your brows crease with ire. “I think I misjudged him. But even so, I’ve already told him where I stand, which is unavailable.”
“You looked so unavailable when you were drooling over his body,” he says with acid dripping from his words. “Or when he kissed your hand. Jesus, y/n, why don’t you just admit that he’s a better fit for you than I am? He’s better looking, younger, in better shape—”
Without thinking for more than a moment, you lean forward, pulling Joel in for a passionate, firm kiss, fitting your hands into his thick hair.
“You,” you whisper, “all I want is you.”
Joel sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “But I’m right, y/n. And you know I am.”
“You’re wrong,” you say softly. “You’ve never been more wrong about anything.”
He pulls away, his demeanor having softened. “Answer me this honestly,” he begins, his eyes on yours, “do you think he’s attractive?”
You swallow, not wanting to lie, and also not wanting to hurt his feelings, but you need to tell the truth. “Yes.”
Joel sighs. “Do you want him?”
“No,” you shake your head. “I’m completely yours.”
He gives you a gentle smile. “You’re my girl?”
Your body liquifies, your thighs pressing together as your bottom lip tucks behind your teeth. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve never felt more insecure in my life than I do right now, seeing you with him.”
“Baby,” your voice coos, “you don’t have to be insecure. I’m crazy about you.”
Joel looks to his side, seemingly checking to see if anyone is there. “Do you wanna leave with me?”
You smile, nodding. “Definitely.”
The two of you leave the kitchen, a beer bottle in your hand for Harry. You place yourself beside him, handing him the drink before you open your mouth to speak.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna head home,” you say to him as you lean in. “I’m bored.”
Harry’s face falls with disappointment. “What, really? You’re my only friend here.”
You giggle, shaking your head. “Talk to my dad. I’m sure he’d love to have some sort of rivalry conversation if you just approached him.”
He gives you a gentle smile. “Could you at least let me know you got home safely?”
“How would I do that? Send you a pigeon?” you jest.
“It’s not against company policy if I have your number, is it?” he beams proudly.
You roll your eyes. “Fine. I’ll give it to you verbally, and if you don’t remember it, that’s on you.”
You quickly roll out your number, Harry only smiling at you as you do. You know that there’s no way in hell he’ll remember, especially being so drunk.
“I won’t forget it,” he smiles. “Bye, y/n.”
“Bye, Harry.”
You find your mom, haven’t having more than a single conversation with her this entire time. She’s been so busy with your dad and making sure everyone is happy, that you’ve hardly seen her.
“I’m leaving, mom,” you say to the beautiful woman in the red jersey.
“Aw, so soon? It’s not even halftime yet.” She hugs you.
“Yeah, I’m just bored. I’m gonna head home and clean a little bit or something.”
“Okay, well, I love you,” she smiles warmly.
“I love you too, mom.”
You leave the house, not bothering to say goodbye to your dad who is surrounded by people all intently watching the game. Harry remains on the couch, giving you a casual wave as you step out of the front door, being greeted outside by the thick wall of heat that encompasses your entire being.
Breaking into a near-instant sweat, you make your way to your car, instantly blasting the A/C as you settle into the driver’s seat. Your phone buzzes from your back pocket, making you lift your hips to retrieve it.
Unknown
5:35pm
Told you I wouldn’t forget
You laugh, rolling your eyes as you type back a response.
5:36pm
I’m sorry, who is this? Is this the man who has their nose up my father’s ass?
Harry
5:37pm
Is that what I’m smelling?
You giggle, locking your phone and moving out of the grass, heading straight for Joel’s house.
When you pull up, you see that he’s stepping out of his truck, giving you a large grin as he walks to your driver’s side door. He swings it open for you as you cut off your engine, greeting him with a soft peck on the lips.
“You still want me?” he asks with that low tone that you’ve become very familiar with.
“Yes, daddy.”
Joel’s jaw flexes beneath your fingertips, making you bat your lashes innocently at him. He grabs your hand and leads you to his front door, quickly unlocking it with one hand as he pushes the door open. Joel moves both of you inside, slamming the front door behind himself. He’s practically dragging you to his bedroom, your excitement coming out in a small giggle.
Joel pushes you onto your back on the mattress, your body bouncing up slightly from the force.
“I think it’s your turn to cum, don’t you?” he asks with a smirk as he climbs on top of you.
You nod fervently. “Yes, please.”
Joel hooks his large, rough hands into the sides of your jeans and panties, yanking them down aggressively as he admires where you’re quivering for him. He slows down a bit, pulling off your shoes one at a time before completely sliding your bottoms off.
You lay there in only your shirt and bra, your heart pounding from excitement and arousal. Joel rests on the bed between your legs, his arms coming up to hook around the top of your thighs.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he kisses your inner thigh. “This perfect cunt is all for me, hmm?”
You nod, biting your lip. “Yes.”
Joel places a soft lick against your clit, making your hips jolt up. “Always taste so sweet, too.”
Your brows pinch together. “Please.”
“Shh,” he coos, “don’t beg, pretty girl. I’ll take care of you.”
The tip of his tongue grazes you gently once again, but immediately ceases, making you whimper with frustration.
“Daddy, please,” you beg, your chest heaving. “I can’t take it.”
“You can take plenty,” he teases. “Swallow me whole every time I’m inside, don’t you?”
Your mind and body are on fire, every single nerve on high alert, making every breath against you cause a shiver to shoot down your spine.
“Please,” your voice breaks. “Please.”
Joel runs another short-lived swipe of his tongue up your slit, making a drop of desperation fall from the corner of your eye.
“Just want you to feel as frustrated as I did all afternoon,” he says gruffly, another quick flick of his tongue making your back arch. “Are you frustrated, baby?”
“Yes!” you shout, panting. “Please, daddy, I’m so good for you. Please. I’ll do anything you ask.”
He chuckles, moving a hand up to lightly press his fingers between your slit. “You’re a mess, y/n.” He eases one finger into you, your mouth hanging open as your head tilts back. “Hear how wet you are? All because I’m not giving you what you want right away.”
His finger stills inside of you, your entrance clamping down on it, desperate for more. “Daddy, please!”
“You’ve been so spoiled by my cock, that now you beg if I’m not inside of you within a few minutes.” Joel laughs as he flicks his tongue on you, swirling it a few times before pulling away. “You’ve become such a slut, baby.”
“Yes,” you groan. “I’m your slut, daddy.”
He moans. “Yes you are, sweet girl.” He pushes in another finger, your walls tightening up instantly.
“Please, you’re torturing me,” you whimper, your hips moving to gain any sort of relief. “I can’t—”
Cutting off your whining, Joel connects his tongue to your clit, making you cry out loudly, gripping his hair tightly in your hand. His licks are quick and relentless, making you curse into your incessant moans. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling the tips to hit that beautiful spot inside of you that makes you crumble.
Your breathing is frantic, and your hands cradle his head, your nails scratching at his scalp as you feel your orgasm sprinting towards the finish line. A blinding feeling washes over you, your release spraying out of you like it never has before.
Joel groans into you, his tongue and fingers not ceasing their perfect dance together, until your ride has come to an end. He pulls away, chuckling as he sits up onto his knees.
You pant as you gaze at him, his beard slick with your orgasm, and so is the collar of his jersey.
“You made a mess,” he says with a proud grin. “You ever cum like that before?”
You shake your head frantically, embarrassment washing over you. “I-I’m sorry.”
Joel scoffs, unbuckling his pants as he slides them down just enough for his erection to spring free. “Don’t ever apologize for squirting on me.”
He crashes into you with a firm thrust, making you scream out his name, your hands digging at the fabric of the jersey.
“Joel!” you scream. “Fuck, daddy, please.”
Joel leans down and places a firm kiss onto your lips and you groan, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.
“Perfect,” he grunts between firm thrusts, “you’re fucking perfect.”
His hand is on your overwhelmed button, rubbing you in quick, small circles that has you screaming out even more. You can feel that same intense feeling consuming you as it did before, and you’re not even sure how to hold it in.
“I’m gonna cum again,” your voice breaks. “I don’t want to, baby, please, I’m embarrassed.”
Joel buries himself in deep, giving you an angry grunt as he picks up the pace of his fingers. “Squirt on my fucking cock, y/n. Give me what’s mine.”
Your body instantly responds to him, crying out loudly as you feel yourself spraying onto his length. The feeling is so intense it has your eyes watering and your thighs shaking intensely, your legs turning to jello.
“Fuck,” he curses, pushing himself in roughly to the hilt as he throbs, his warm orgasm filling you deeply.
The sounds he makes in your ear causes your walls to clench, making his body shudder slightly above you. Joel leans up from your shoulder, giving you a soft, deep kiss on your lips.
“You okay, baby?” he asks with himself still inside of you.
You nod, your entire body shaking. “It was s-so much.”
He kisses you again. “And you did so good.” He rubs the tip of his perfect nose along yours. “Never had a woman squirt for me before.”
“God, it’s so embarrassing.” You can feel your cheeks reddening just talking about it.
“No,” he says gently, letting out a small chuckle. “I loved it. Don’t be embarrassed about how good I make you feel.” He slowly withdraws with a slight moan.
Your body turns to face his that’s laying beside you. “But you’ll have to wash everything now.”
Joel pulls you in with his hand on your face. “Then I’ll wash everything.” His lips peck the tip of your nose. “You don’t ever have to be embarrassed around me, baby. I’ll never judge you, especially not for the way you cum.”
You giggle, letting out a small sigh. “At least let me help you wash them.”
Joel laughs, nodding. “Fine.”
The two of you walk naked across the house, your arms wrapped around Joel’s midsection from the back as he carries his bedding to the laundry room. You place feathery light kisses on his back between his shoulder blades, making him giggle.
“What’re you doing back there?” he turns his head slightly as he loads the washer.
“Admiring my hot boyfriend,” you laugh, subtly dragging your teeth across his skin. “I love your body.”
He chuckles, adding detergent to the bedding as well as his jersey. “Please,” he scoffs. “I know you said dad bods are hot, but this one isn’t.”
Your hands rub his stomach, admiring the light sprinkling of hair as well as the softness of it. “Dad bods are my favorite. And yours is number one.”
Joel closes the washer, turning. “Oh, yeah? And who’s second?”
You shrug. “There’s no competition.”
He shifts, his arms around your waist as your body presses to his. “Not even with Harry?”
“Not even Harry.”
“God, I’m sorry I’m so insecure. You’ve made me this way.”
Your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve made you insecure?”
“No, you’re amazing. Just being with you makes me insecure, I guess. You’re so much younger and prettier. You could have guys like Harry who are fucking perfect and yet you choose me. I just don’t get it.”
“Because I love you, Joel.” Your eyes blow wide at what just escaped your lips. “I mean, I—”
His tense body softens, taking your lips against his with a gentle fervor that causes emotion to run to your eyes. “I love you too, y/n. I don’t care if it’s fast, or if I’m stupid for saying it. I love you. I’m crazy about you, and I want to be yours forever.”
You gaze up at him with your eyes bleary, his palm cupping your face. “I want that, too.”
****
Taglist: @violet-19999 @chibimosa
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bluebrainrot · 2 years ago
Text
Here's a ROTTMNT fanfic W.I.P I'm not going to finish,
it's 3k words long.
(TW/CW for injuries and feelings of guilt which result in reckless activity.)
oh god, he was so fucking bored, 
Sure Leo had practically gotten his shit handed to him in a nicely wrapped up present with a tiny blue bow by the Krang a couple months ago,
and sure he ended up passing out for an entire week after the adrenaline passed which gave his entire family a heart attack,
but that didn't stop the numbness crawl it's way through his chest, the small prickling feeling of dread make its way up his neck, or the heavy pit that stayed in his stomach as soon as he was left alone.
Boredom, Yeah, it's totally boredom, it could literally be nothing else, not fear, or anxiety, or guilt that he was the reason his family and the entire world was almost destroyed.
No, he was just bored.
He picked at his bandaged arms, staring at the ceiling scheming, he would make his escape tonight
"Nardo, do not." Donnie had entered the med bay and went to check his vitals,
"I wasn't going to do anything?!" Leo shot back, giving his brother an incredulous look,
Even though Donnie swore that twin telepathy wasn't a thing (or that they were twins because "We are literally two different species' of turtles, Dum Dum.") Donnie always knew when he was gonna pull some bullshit, 
"I mean stop picking at your bandages, Dum Dum." 
"Oh," Leo mentally sighed and decided to fidget with his fingers instead.
The plan was still on.
"And don't even think about leaving the med bay." he said momentarily glaring at leo, after he finished checking Leo's iv, 
Fuck.
"I- Me? Never. I'm out of commission, doc, you know that," He said faking a hurt tone, as if he was offended that Donnie would assume such a thing.
"I'm stuck here, I can barely stand," he pouted at Donnie, that was only partially not true. Leo had practiced hobbling around when everyone was asleep, 
Donnie raised a drawn on eyebrow at him, to which Leo returned with a half grin half smirk, 
There was a pause of silence before Donnie sighed, 
"Alright," Donnie started, 
Leo mentally cheered and smiled, 
"but i guess since you're stuck here," Donnie paused for a second, "I'm sure you won't mind me keeping you company?"
Leo's face fell while it was Donnie's turn to smirk, 
"I'm sure you'd love to have me, your older twin, stay with you." He continued with a smug grin, as he looked at Leo, who was busy looking half terrified,
Leo recovered and attempted to grin back, 
"Yea, sure," He blinked taking a minute, before opening and closing his mouth in thought of what to say next,
"Great." Donnie said, "Now, if you don't mind, dear brother, I need to get somethings done before I join you." He said with a monotone flourish before he left the med bay, 
as soon as he was out of earshot Leo cursed, sour that his dear twin brother managed to snuff out his plans, he laid his head back down on the pillow rolling his eyes at the ceiling,
his head was cramped with the thought of new york, how he used to run along rooftops with his brothers, fight crime, Go to "Run of the Mill" and annoy his second father figure Señor Hueso, 
he mostly missed the sounds, the bustling alive streets that were never quiet, which felt like a stark contrast to the med bay, 
where the only sounds were machines beeping signaling that Leo had somehow survived, dripping of sewer pipes buried somewhere within the walls, the hushed whispers and conversations that would happen infront of the med bay when his family thought he was asleep,
it all felt like too much, or too empty, sure his brothers would come in and talk to him, 
or try to, atleast.
It would usually end in an awkward silence as if they had no idea what to say, because what do you say to your brother who had sacrificed himself, who resigned himself a fate with practically no chance of survival?
it was usually with Raph that conversations died fast, because there was always something else he wanted to say, always something that just died on the tip of his tongue, Leo often wondered what it was, 
a part of him thinks it would be about Leo's stunt at the docks, how because of his inability to shut up they had been spotted, 
how he had disobeyed Raph and went after the key on his own without a single thought or plan on how he would have gotten out on his own, 
how Raph had to sacrifice himself for Leo and deal with the consequences which was forever memorialized on his face, an ugly scar over his eye, a reminder on how it was Leo's fault.
The sane part of Leo knows that Raph did not hold it against him, but it still was a terrifying, ugly thought that felt like hot coals were being shoved down his throat and burned smoke into his eyes.
with Mikey conversations flowed somewhat smoothly, Leo could sense he desperately wanted to bring out Dr. feelings but would supress it, 
They would continue to talk about skateboarding or a meme Mikey got from April, but no matter the subject Leo's eyes were always led to his baby brothers hands and forearms, 
They were painted with faint scars, jagged, thin and ran along his arms like dead tree branches, it was a show of Mikey's love and determination; a mark that shouldn't have to be there. 
Leo knew that Mikey struggled, his hands were filled with tremors, he could barely hold a pencil or a paintbrush anymore. 
Leo may have sacrificed himself, but Mikey? Mikey gave up his art, his ability to breathe life onto a blank page and Leo was the one who took it from him.
He had heard Mikey crying one night, from the darkness he could hear sniffles permeating through the lair, that reminded Leo of when they were kids and Mikey would skin his knees by tripping over his own feet from running too fast, 
Leo hated hearing Mikey cry which is why he had found those old knee pads, but this, this required more than knee pads, a bandaid, soft words and cuddles.
Leo had asked him about it one night and to his surprise Mikey answered truthfully, he had told Leo everything, how even though he was glad that ge managed to save Leo, he missed being able to draw, to paint, to create. 
That night ended in both Mikey and Leo crying, one with relief of finally unburdening themselves with pent up emotions, and the other with guilt.
Mikey was always so much stronger than him in that sense, he was so willing and open with his feelings. 
He would never tell Mikey this, knowing he would most definitely break out Dr. Feelings, but It made Leo feel sick with himself, It was another weight added to his stomach, another way he could torture himself,
Another reason as to why he should have been left in the prison dimension.
Leo couldn't believe his baby brother felt the need to save him.
He didn't need saving.
He didn't want it, not at the expense of his family.
If Mikey hadn't saved Leo, he wouldn't had to give up on his art. Not for a brother that fucked everything up.
But with Donnie it was different, it was easier.
His twin was never one for feelings or emotions, and rather preferred to sit with you in silence, and usually used small touches; a hand on your shoulder, as a way offering his presence as an anchor, or to say I'm here.
Leo was grateful for that in many ways, 
however, in this case, he wasn't.
Donnie had returned with some mush he called Leo's dinner,
Leo couldn't eat anything solid, Thanks to the Krang and his temper tantrum in the prison dimension, which in turn led him to have a diet of liquids and baby food.
Leo whinned as Donnie placed the plate of mushed up peas in front of him, 
"c'mon Donnieeee" he dragged, 
"I've been having shitty mashed peas for the past month. It's fucking disgusting and flavorless and boring."
Donnie gave him an unimpressed look, "Leon, you know very well why you have to eat the peas," Donnie sat down on the chair beside the bed, where for the past month or so, his brothers had been taking turns, to watch over an unconcious Leo.
The seat was, from what Leo had heard, had mostly been occupied by Raph. Donnie and Mikey being very close seconds.
"you're the team medic, and as team medic you know that your stomach pulled an AllMight and half of it got destroyed." Donnie crossed his arms as he talked and shifted in his seat.
"yeah, I know that, DonTron" he rolled his eyes, "I didn't ask 'why?' I just want something other than fucking peas, or atleast something with salt." He glared at the plate on his lap.
Donnie sighed, "Leon. Eat the fucking peas." 
Leo frowned at Donnie then the plate of peas, then at Donnie, then peas, Donnie, Peas, Donnie, Peas, and grimaced.
he groaned before using the plastic blue spoon that kindergarden children were most familiar with, and took a bite of the room temperature peas, making a disgusted face as he swallowed, 
He looked back at Donnie who was still seated next to him with his arms crossed, unimpressed with Leo's antics.
Leo scooped another spoonful, bringing it up halfway and paused, stared at the peas, and put it back down, turned to Donnie, 
"DonDonnnn, my arm hurts," he pouted.
Donnie pinched the bridge of his beak and groaned,
Leo smirked,
"Nardo, I swear on the pizza supreme in the sky." He looked at Leo, borderline glaring at him.
Leo stared back with a blank face, before it contorted into one of pleading.
Donnie swore under his breath that his brother was going to give him an ulcer before they turn 18, 
"Fine. Fine. I'll try and find something else."
Leo smiled back at Donnie. "Ohmigosh! Thank you, Thank you so so so much, Donnie, you are the greatest brother ever, have I ever told you tha-"
Donnie held out a finger to shut him up, "I said 'try'." He gave a tired sigh before he continued,
"and whatever I bring you have to eat it. no complaining, nothing. Got it?" He said eyeing Leo.
"Todd scouts honor." He said before drawing a cross with his finger on his plastron.
Donnie got up, narrowing his eyes at Leo as he got to the door of the med bay, before leaving. 
Leo wait a few minutes before he grinned, sat up and stretched over to place the peas on donnies seat, 
he swung his legs over the bed, using the iv stand to stabilize himself, before taking a few explorative steps, 
Leo removed the iv from his wrist and used the stand for a couple more steps, before attempting to stay upright on his own.
he wobbled, and stuck his arms out like a tightrope walker to keep steady, his face focused, tongue sticking out as he tried his best not to fall over.
Leo took a few more steps before he could comfortably walk, more like limp, around the Med bay.
He started making his way through the med bay trying his best to quiet his foot falls, and leaned out the door to see if anyone was coming, after he was satisfied, he went back in and made his way to one of the vents, 
he opened it and scurried inside, closing the vent behind him, his mind made an inkling thought of an among us joke, before he snickered and moved on.
Leo had memorized the ventilation shafts as a way to fight his boredom one night,
He made the necessary turns till he made it to his subway cart room.
He clambered down, and entered his room filled with Jupiter jim and lou jitsu posters and action figures, comic books sat in teetering piles near his unmade bed, as his twin katanas laid across his desk.
he grabbed his katana holders that was draped on his desk chair and struggled it over his carapace before taking one katana and placing it in the holder and using the other like a makeshift crutch.
he made his way to the back door of the subway cart and opened it, 
Leo used this exit many times before, especially on quiet nights when his insomnia was acting up and drinking tea or rewatching jupiter jim or lou jistu movies weren't working,
he'd make his way out of the abandonded subway tunnels, up to the surface and wander around, 
Leo did the same thing he'd been doing in the two years after Shredder had destroyed their first home, Before the krang Fucked up everything.
Except, now, he stumbled down the subway tunnels with his katana as a crutch rather than easily stroll like before.
Leo found his way to the surface taking a minute to stare at the sky, 
The similar sounds flooded his ears. The people. The constant movement and chatter. The soft goan of a new city being rebuilt over an old one.
Leo felt at peace, he felt lighter, as he dragged himself out of the abandoned subway catacombs, and made his way up onto the rooftops with the help of an old fire escape, 
he had at first decided to aimlessly wonder around to take in the sights and the feeling of his city.
It had been a long time. Way too long.
as he walked around he noticed that even though it was familiar, it was all so vastly different.
As the sounds of construction took up most of the air, there were more people than ever queuing up infront of food drives, and there were more crumbling and abandoned buildings than usual. 
Leo's face hardened, as he realized that these were all effects of the invasion.
Of the catastrophic event that rocked practically everyones shit.
He felt the stubbling feelings of guilt prickle its way through his chest, as he stared down at his city, his home.
Leo shook his head, he was here to feel better, to not feel bored anymore. 
That what he was going to do.
he pushed back the all encompassing thoughts and dread, all the way to the back of his mind, tonight is his night. 
The only night he'll allow himself.
Leo needed to get serious; about his family, his city, and himself.
Because it was never about him, it was never supposed to be. 
Leo looked back at the sky almost inky and dark, but dented with the city lights, proof to him that new york was healing and that it would all be ok.
Leo's stomach grumbled, as he was lost in his thoughts.
Leo hummed as if to let himself know that he recognized he was hungry.
a few mummbled thoughts went through his mind before he managed to pick one.
Run of the Mill. Señor Hueso.
He needed to check up on Hueso, and eat something that wasn't fucking flavorless peas.
Leo made his way across the rooftops till he reached the alleyway where Run of the Mill was hidden. 
He opened the mystic door and sauntered in, putting an air of "I'm completely ok, the casts, bandages and sword i'm using to keep myself from falling on my face are a fashion statement nothing more."
Leo was greeted with the warmth, smells and sounds the restraunt usually had, and for a second his mind melted, it was so familiar, it was exactly as he left it, and Leo loved it.
Too many things had changed and he was so glad that atleast one thing was the same.
Leo with the same sauntering pace limped with his sword, up to the counter, flashing a grin to the waitstaff.
"Heeeeeyyyyyyyy," Leo had proped himself against the counter, leaning his sword next to him.
The yokai manning the counter was a type of humanoid black bear who wore a black button down, and had an annoyed snarl placed on their face as they looked down at Leo.
"Do you think by any chance you can get me Señor Hueso? you see he is like a really good pal of mine," He paused expectingly, waiting for the bear to go get Hueso, but they stood there, still snarling.
"we are muy close, super duper close like almost like a mentor/mentee type of deal or one could even say father and son?" Leo stopped, raising his nonexistent eyebrows, a small part of him wondering if he should just leave.
But he continued anyway "actually more like uncle and nephew, anywhizzle, I'm sure he would love to see that i'm doing amazing," Leo gestured to himself, which would more likely disprove his point rather than help it.
"after the entire almost end of the world thing at the hands/tentacles of chewed up bubblegum." He tried to give the bear a smile in an attempt to convince him, 
there was silence as the yokai and Leo made eye contact for a solid minute, the bears ears flicking from time to time.
Leo broke first and groaned, "It's fine i'll just get him myself." and gave the bear a sarcastic smile, before peeling himself off the counter and hobbling into the bustling restraunt with his weight on his katana, towards Hueso's office.
The bear grunted as he did so, and greeted the next customer with silence.
Leo slowly weaved his way through the waiters and tables before making to the door of hueso's office, promptly knocking before he let himself in,
grinning as (humanely?) turtley possible, as he greeted Hueso with a "Heeeeyyyyy Boneman," and finger guns.
Hueso was on his office phone, his eyes, eyesockets? widened as he saw the turtle barge into his office, 
He muttered a quick assurance to whoever was on the phone before cutting the line.
That's it! Thanks if you read this far ^_^
Here's a picture of my grand uncle's cat as thanks.
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kitchfit · 1 year ago
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Year in Review: Movies Part 1
I don't have that great of an attention span. If its something I am invested in I can spend hours upon hours reading or playing through it until I get a headache telling me its time for bed, but if something doesn't hook me after around 30 minutes I'm probably turning it off or putting it down for a bit. It is for this reason I don't finish a lot of movies unless there is another reason to watch through it all. Usually that means watching it with other people. If there aren't friends to help me finish this movie it's probably going back in the case, which I think is true for all but one movie on this list.
Glass Onion
Knives Out is one of my favorite movies of all time. I've not read any of Agatha Christie's works which is who Benoit Blanc is largely parodying, but I do love other things inspired by her such as Columbo, and the first movie is a stellar deconstruction of that genre, while still providing an engaging mystery. I saw this movie's baby brother at the dawn of the New Year alongside my cousin, both fervently pushing out trope appropriate theories only to be completely wrong at the twist ending in plain sight.
This sequel is not anything as elegant as the first, but still seeks to deconstruct mystery tropes in a very similar fashion. The mastermind behind a series of murders or even one murder is a role often given to rich, suave, and intelligent people of high standing. It is this role that Edward Norton's character sees himself as, but while he is a rich dude of high standing, he is a more realistic rich dude than most murder mystery antagonists; that is, an arrogant dumbass who got where he is by manipulating and screwing over everyone he can. He wants to be complex while being transparently simple. Also he smells. LIKE AN ONION. WHOA. ONE MADE OUT OF GLASS. THANKS JOHN LEMON.
A Silent Voice
A good way to get me to watch a movie until the end is to make it animated, that way even if its boring as all hell I still get to look at some pretty art. That's not the case with this movie. I first watched this on a bus ride when I was sixteen with one earphone on while the girl next to me held it up on her phone. That was a good memory, but seeing the gorgeous animation on the big screen was a nice treat.
I love the dynamic between the two main characters. I wouldn't say this movie is a romance in any real sense of the term, but is about a relationship. Both of these kids spend most of their adolescence admonishing themselves for hurting the other, believing everyone hates them for what happened when they were 10. This is especially tragic for Shouko, the deaf girl who did literally nothing besides exist and try to make friends. The fact that she blames herself for her bully becoming ostracized is even played as a twist, but its a very realistic mindset anyone can fall into. The theme is forgiveness of the self after others have already forgiven you, which can be pretty tough to do, especially when you've done some genuinely shitty stuff.
I also showed this movie to my mom, an ASL instructor and translator, cause I thought it might be interesting for her, but she lost interest and fell asleep after she realized it was JSL and couldn't understand it.
Puss in Boots: The Last Wish
My friends were freaking out about this film, one of them going so far as to watch it like six separate times within the span of a couple weeks. This made me expect it to blow my mind, but it was just a very well written, beautifully animated movie about a cat coming to terms with its own death. I think the drought of movies with good writing from mainstream studios really elevated this one further than it would have normally. It was nice to return to this character, having grown up with the Shrek films, and doubly nice to see his character arc being used to discuss a serious topic in a healthy way.
The central conflict is the most compelling aspect of the story, the John Mulaney villain and Goldilocks subplot are funny and entertaining, but the effectiveness of Death as the main antagonist is genius. The Shrek universe has always been a conglomeration of fairytales and folktales brought to one setting, and who is most common death metaphor than the big bad wolf? Or I'm sorry. Not a metaphor. He's just Death. Straight up. You don't outrun death or win against it in any meaningful capacity, and the story could only end with Puss' acceptance that he will die. There's no Sisypussing his way out of this one. Pussyphusing? Pfft.
X-Men: First Class
My dad and I decided to watch through every X-Men movie earlier this year. We managed two of them. They're good movies, most of them at least, but marathoning all *looks at watch* eleven films just never came to fruition. This one might be in my top 3 for X-Men movies, though. Xavier and Magneto's relationship has always been the most interesting part of these films, and this movie puts it front and center. Xavier's focus on helping his friend make peace with his traumatic past is something so genuinely sweet that ultimately empowers his greatest enemy. It's this understanding they have with each other, established in this movie, that underlines every interaction they have in the future.
The rest of this movie is pretty standard origin story stuff for the ensemble cast. How the Beast Became Blue. How Mystique Stopped Pretending and Became Her True Blue Self. How the Guy Who's Power is To Never Die, Died. It's fun for what it is but overall pretty generic.
X-Men: Days of Future Past
This is also one of the better X-Men films, not sure if I'd put it in the top 3, but there's enough time travel nonsense in this movie to make me giddy. I love paradoxical bullshit. This movie works as both a direct sequel to First Class, while also working in the continuity of the first 7 or so films. It's the Apocalypse, baby! Okay, not that Apocalypse, I still haven't seen that one, but we are introduced to one of the more famous fascist genocidal hellscapes to come out of Marvel comics. The story starts at the very end of this murderous crusade, only a handful of mutants are still alive, grouped together as a unit in some abandoned... temple bunker? I'm sure this is explained somewhere in the movie, but it makes a cool setting to fight for your life in.
Most of the plot, however, takes place in the 70s. It was a big twist in the comics that the girl who can walk through space without hindrance can also walk through time the same way, but in this movie Kitty Pryde can only send other people into their past selves, meaning it's once again Wolverine's turn to take the spotlight, because Hugh Jackman is more expensive than Elliot Page. It makes less sense, but this movie still has a lot of fun jumping between the past and future versions of established characters. Angry, passionate Magneto in his 30s vs the wizened Sir Ian McKellen Magneto. At some point the X Man himself gets to talk directly to his depressed, 70s incarnation. Not to mention Quicksilver is there, which is always nice.
This was the "Rogue Cut," which adds cut content about Rogue infiltrating a sentry factory to blow it up. The new stuff doesn't add a lot, but I did like her character from earlier films, so it was cool to see her again.
Shrek
After the joy of obsessing over Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, one of my friends insisted that we all catch up on the deep lore of the franchise, and go through every Shrek movie in order. Unlike with X-Men, we succeeded in one marathon through them all. The dude who suggested this also made the assertion that PiB: Wish was the first Shrek film to feature blood and cursing. This is patently false and I took immense pleasure in proving him wrong. *whispers* Shrek says ass within the first twenty minutes, don't tell mom!
The first movie got memed on quite a bit, but I think most people have come around to enjoying it in a genuine sense. It's a cute love story with a good message and funny fard jokes. I don't think the gross-out humor really oversteps in bounds, and it would feel pretty bizarre in hindsight if a movie like Shrek ever toned that stuff down. There were a lot of movies with "fairytales come to life and their rude and goofy," as their premise, (think Hoodwinked, another fun movie) but I think the style of the Shrek world comes off in the most endearing way. Or maybe that's just nostalgia talking.
Shrek 2
I have the soundtrack of this movie embedded into my skull. I had the CD growing up and would make my mom play it in the car on the way to primary school ad nauseum. I also had the entire movie with incredibly compressed graphics on my GBA. This classic film is synonymous with my early childhood, and it holds up really well. It's shorter than I remembered, but I think that's just because it's so expertly paced.
It also introduces our favorite fearless hero, who blends effortlessly into the main cast. All of the character's play off of each other really well, actually. The gags of a royal knight planting catnip on Puss or Gingy yelling "IT'S A THONG" to get Pinocchio to lie still get me. Not to mention the perfect fight scene scored by "I Need a Hero." Every studio with rights to that song have been chasing that high ever since.
Shrek the Third
Some people hate this movie with genuine vile and malice in their hearts. Maybe that's harsh. It definitely doesn't match the highs of either of the first two, but I still enjoyed it a lot as a kid and had a good time with it now. My friend noted that the first half of this film has a lot of funny gags that peter out in the second half, where the focus is on Shrek's complicated feelings on fatherhood. There are moments in the movie where I can tell it can't decide whether to write a scene with appropriate drama or make a stupid joke, which is odd as the first one balanced those aspects pretty elegantly.
This movie does have a sequence where the classic fairytale princesses learn martial arts from Julie Andrews and kick the bark covered asses of the trees from Wizard of Oz, all to the beat of Barracuda. Disney could never. I also like that Prince Charming takes a more central role as antagonist in the story this time around, which feels very appropriate for the setting. Justin Timberlake is here too I guess. Damn, I forgot about him. Sorry Justin.
Shrek the Final Chapter
This movie came out when I believed myself toooo olllllllld and MATURE for silly animated movies with farting in them. I had grown, and was ready for stuff like *looks at movies that came out 2010* MEGAMIND, an even sillier animated movie with still probably several fart jokes. I had a bunch of reasons for disliking this one when it came out, but I don't really recall any of them. This movie is pretty wild upon revisiting. Shrek pulls a It's a Wonderful Life with Rumpelstiltskin and is pulled into an alternate universe fanfiction where he never existed, joins an Ogre resistance and tries to get his wife to fall in love with him again. It's such a goofy premise with some fairly well constructed dramatic moments. It's also very good 3D animation for its time, which might be consistent with the rest of the series.
There's a scene where Rumpelstiltskin jumps off a ledge and makes a weird noise that I cannot for the life of me find on youtube, but it sticks in my brain for some reason. He's a pretty fun villain, overall, all of his scenes made me laugh. I think we watched the other Puss in Boots movie after this, but I fell asleep. Sorry Justin.
Ghostbusters: Afterlife
This franchise got reimagined with a new cast a few years ago, and for some reason became a controversial focus of American politics for several weeks. I mean not for some reason, it was really just sexism. Women? Fighting ghosts??? Only men fight ghosts in real life, everyone knows that. This movie, on the other hand, is a direct sequel to the original film and also didn't come out during an election year, so even though Girls do be Fighting Ghosts in this one, there was less outrage around it. It's a fun homage to the original, but doesn't acknowledge the original Ghostbusters 2 in the least, and that movie genuinely freaked me out as a kid with its pink slime that kills you.
The film focuses on the very autistic granddaughter of the late and famously autistic member of the original cast, Egon. She's a delightful protagonist throughout the story, working with the ghost of her grandfather to uncover the truth behind the natural disasters plaguing her Podunk town. There are also some fun new ghost designs our child heroes have to overcome. The supporting cast is serviceable, mostly focused around Finn Wolfhard and Paul Rudd's eternal struggle to get dates before the world is eaten by Gozer, or whoever. There's a lot of nostalgia bait in this movie. The OG Ghostbusters even make a Deus Ex Machina style cameo, saving Baby Egon at the last moment aside a CGI Harold Ramis that did get me to tear up a little. This whole movie was dedicated to him, which is sweet.
Kingdom Hearts: Back Cover
Remember when I said I was done talking about Kingdom Hearts for this year? No? You haven't been reading these? That's okay, I was lying anyway. As part of my full bodily integration into this series, I watched the entirety of the KH Union X Cutscenes interspersed with clips from the Back Cover movie in order of the proper timeline of events. This is probably the sanest way to experience this story. The original has you play a mobile game where you are updated on the plot every ten or so boring ass missions and then watch the movie as a companion piece. It's a pretty engaging narrative by KH standards, but its told in the most batshit way possible, which I guess is also up to KH standards. You can watch it here, if the embeds work:
youtube
The first part of this story focuses on a member of the Keyblade Guilds, who is slowly encroaching upon the reality that the organization they're apart of is tearing itself apart. All of the Guild Masters are in conflict over a potential traitor, and this suspicion eventually spirals into an entire war. The Master of these Masters, or MoM, is largely implied to have orchestrated the entire event. The second half focuses on the fallout from that war as the surviving Guild members try to escape the end of the world.
I got pretty attached to several of the characters and their ultimate fate, but I think this could have worked better as a TV show rather than a REALLY BORING MOBILE GAME. I guess you can watch it as a TV show, if you watch the video above in 30 minute chunks, and if you're okay with beautiful 3D animated cutscenes transitioning into kind of stale sprite art at random.
Alright ending this here. I didn't finish this on Friday as I had some other Things going on, so we're in for a double feature! Hopefully, I'll continue on the games list which will be out this evening. I'm writing these ahead of time so who knows???
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dentwy · 1 year ago
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number 3: house of leaves
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i have this one discord bot i keep dming stuff to so it's easier to get files through mobile to pc, and as a general list of things i don’t feel like saving anywhere else or wanna be reminded of. obviously as i keep adding stuff i forget about older things just like you do with your watch later on youtube. tuesday, december 21 of the year 2021 at 1:50am i sent this message:
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i know for a fact it's just because that's when i watched the game grumps play santa clause 3 but the point is that i've put it aside for quite some time now. as the years went on i'm pretty sure i've heard people mention the book here and there, but the thing that definitely made decide i want to read it is none other than the power pak myhouse.wad video, as i'm sure most people this year have experienced as well. sometimes it can feel intrusive for people in such a tight fandom to get bombarded with newcomers experiencing what you like in a completely different way because your niche thing now is more popular than ever, but i personally try to keep respectful about people's passions and i'm fairly realistic about it. yeah, i know you know about the doom mod, and it's cool, but let's focus on what's important. house of leaves.
"This is not for you." he said, well you can't tell me what to do johnny truant! gatekeeping is funny, i can't argue against it, and it's specially funny when the book you just opened is doing it to you. however, it usually seems with this book as if people treat it like some kind of evil secret thing you can only read and understand if you're fucked up and want to suffer. literature is a medium to share ideas and stories, stop making it out to be some kind of secret club. and to you reddit, please stop asking if you can skip the footnotes or a guide on how to read it, it's a book. just read the damn thing.
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if by any chance you're reading this and haven't experienced house of leaves yet, i encourage you to do so. not sure if the pinnacle of ergodic literature, but it's absolutely an experience like none other. i mean, look up the book on google images and it'll catch your eye in an instant. it's a book within a book, within a movie, within a story, within a house. the maze never ends, and the house is ever expanding. it may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's yours.
there’re two core sides to this story, johnny truant's delusions and ongoing madness over this book he's just found, and the story this book is describing. i honestly fail to understand how people get bored of what mark danielewski has managed to concoct here, as the introduction itself was instantly gripping to me. alike johnny himself, i could not put away house of leaves until i finished it in the span of around 2 weeks. the constant back and forth between the narrators in the story could seem daunting at first, but each one adds so much more to the experience, recontextualizing characters, or scenes, or the entire book in nothing more than a couple of lines (or multiple pages for a single footnote). it's like reading through the ramblings of a crazy man, except you are actually reading through the ramblings of multiple crazy men. ticking away slowly, unveiling whatever could be at the end of the corridor.
as unreliable narrators go, never being sure on what you're reading is real or not is what constantly pushes the mystery into the words. it's what we choose to believe in that can change it all. i distinctly remember the navidson record detailing a comparison between the director of a movie called "la belle niçoise et le beau chien" and the character we've been following, will navidson. this seemingly real film, is in fact, not real. nothing more than a fabrication. layers upon layers of commentary, description, analysis and characterization forever shifting with the things we say, write and read, may all be not much more than a lie. the power of words is not to be underestimated. it is in fact the words and how they're used what make this book what it is. be it the decision to give the word house a tint of blue, purposely leaving things vague when it's most important, or driving off into completely unrelated tangents about debatably irrelevant topics. you may gather all the clues you want, yet the authenticity of the events are for you to decide. the line between reality and fiction warps the more you go and it may as well keep expanding the further you walk down those stairs.
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1/4" can make the whole difference. the house represents many things. fear, uncertainty, secrecy, anxiety, suffering, peace, obsession, trauma. what goes in, may not ever leave, and what's outside, may not ever know. there's an overarching feeling of passion behind the actions the characters take. it's human nature to be curious, to solve the mysteries presented to us and to want to fix things with our own two hands. but what might look small, could very well be a lot bigger on the inside. more than you could've ever expected. "Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer."
there is a paragraph that i will not ever forget about, that i believe perfectly exemplifies the feeling of uncertainty of the unknown, not being in control and carrying the dread behind you:
"To get a better idea try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms—you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book—you won’t have time to even scream. Don’t look. I didn’t. Of course I looked. I looked so fucking fast I should of ended up wearing one of those neck braces for whiplash."
it has been argued house of leaves is a love story. i see it, and people have agreed as well, more as a story about love. family love, unrequited love, friendly love, love for small and big things, love for those and that you care about the most. the love that drives us forward to do what we do. granted it's mostly just semantics than a difference in genre, but it gives it a different meaning to me. the way words change how we perceive what surround us.
the open-ended nature of the book can leave things to be desired, but that may as well just be life. we're not sure about what's beyond, or what the meaning of it all is, yet we keep moving on. we strive for more, we want to make things right, but the corridor keeps expanding, and the further you go, the darker it gets.
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