#wild thing to be my first post on this blog but I got called an omega last night and I thought I was but
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istherewifiinhell · 6 months ago
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do u even remember how we started following each other (the first time) i just saw ur one of my earliest remainingly-visible notes on ny art from TWENTY-TWENTY and im like damn 1. its been that long 2. what did we possibly have in common then kjsf was it just IDs.
literally not a clue. but the date range is about right. if i remember correctly there was a route 'hey that post was turf shit' dm b4 any real convo. 2020 i think? so mutuals? or just one way following? for that long. really have no idea. a real zero fandom overlap at the time. just IDs. and i liked your art.
now im sure you didnt send this to give me a research project but i have a blog so i dont have have a brain so. tracking ur ghost on my posts. earliest confirmed interaction i found. oct 5th 2020. INDEED. image description bitching. there are earlier posts with the suspicious (x) notes but have only (x-1) users in the likes. maybeee there was one other blog who was a regular and deleted/got deleted but... not likely more than that.
oct 8. about shower chairs.
nov 11. loona is group, not a person
nov 13. reading the intercept is hard
dec 11. stars align sweep
suspected interactions: dogs and halloween fireworks (maybe on ur blog or maybe at a different fireworks heavy date?? oct 31, naturally), unrainbows your sprinkles (dec 1)
earliest rbing art: nov 17, dec 3, dec 18, dec 24, dec 27
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monsterfactoryfanfic · 6 months ago
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if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:
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Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.
It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:
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This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?
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Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.
Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:
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SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."
That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.
The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.
HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.
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Uh oh!
Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.
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You can guess where this is going.
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So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.
Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.
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cuttycrumbing · 1 month ago
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……. oh… kay…
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liviawildrose · 2 months ago
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𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞
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read this to transform your life
hey guys! today, we’re diving into something that can literally transform the next 20 years of your life. why? because pluto has officially entered aquarius, and let me tell you, this is huge. if you’ve got aquarius anywhere in your birth chart like i do, you’re probably already feeling that intense energy—the urge to level up, get things done, and completely reinvent yourself. i mean, look at me: this is my second vlog today and i’ve been non-stop posting since yesterday. it’s like this cosmic shift has supercharged me, and i know it can do the same for you.
but don’t worry, even if you’re not an aquarius, this energy is hitting everyone in some way. so whether you’re ready for it or not, pluto in aquarius is here, and it’s bringing transformation on a massive scale. now, this blog is part of my series called the “game of life”, but since this pluto shift is so major, i’ve decided to make this a crossover between the two themes. we’re going to talk about how to actually use this energy to change your life, level up, and play the long game to completely transform the next 20 years and beyond. so, if you’re ready to tap into this cosmic power and take control of your future, follow along because this blog might just change your life.
just before we dive in, i want you guys to check out a blog i posted a couple of weeks ago—it’s all about the first steps to getting your shit together. it’s a great starting point for understanding how to lay the groundwork for your transformation journey. if you haven’t seen it yet, head over to blog “first steps” and give it a read. trust me, it’ll help you get a solid foundation before you dive into the next level of this process.
avatar
okay, now that you’ve got your basics down from the previous blog, let me introduce you to the game of life. this is where things get fun. first, we’re going to focus on creating your avatar. now, if you’ve read that earlier blog, you’ll remember i talked about building an alter ego. for example, mine is called livia wildrose. she’s my vision of absolute perfection the version of me i aspire to be. this is your chance to go wild. grab a journal and start designing your alter ego and how her life is. i don’t care how crazy, bold, or unrealistic it might seem this is your imagery of perfection. who is she? how does she look? how does she act? what does her life look like? write it all down. get creative draw her, make a mood board, whatever feels right. this is your blueprint. now, here’s the twist: in the game of life, you are the avatar. your current self, with all your flaws and strengths, is the player in this game. your mission? to become your alter ego. think of it like this: your avatar (you) might not have everything your alter ego has right now. maybe she’s more confident, more successful, smarter, richer, or better-looking. but that’s okay because she represents your end goal. every step you take toward embodying her, every choice that aligns you closer to her energy, earns you points in the game of life. the idea is to bridge the gap between who you are now (your avatar) and who you want to be (your alter ego). every time you make progress whether it’s a mindset shift, a small win, or a big milestone you’re leveling up. this is how you win the game.
for example, let’s say your alter ego is this ultra-rich, world-famous singer, idol, and total icon. she’s confident, magnetic, and lives her dream life effortlessly. that’s your end goal that’s your alter ego. now, your job is to build her. create her personality, her habits, her lifestyle, her goals, and most importantly, her mindset. think about it what kind of mindset does she have? does she radiate confidence? does she have unshakable discipline? does she take no for an answer, or does she turn every rejection into motivation? for me, my alter ego, livia wildrose, has a queen-like, goddess-like mindset. that means every single brick life throws at me, i’m gonna build a castle out of it. scratch that i’m gonna build a shrine. nothing breaks me; i only get stronger, wiser, and better. that’s how livia wildrose operates, and that’s what drives me every single day.
imagine you’re playing a game where you have to build a village from scratch. when you start, you don’t just dive in blindly—you go around and observe how other players have built their villages. you notice their strengths, but also their flaws. maybe someone’s village is too cluttered, or their defenses are weak, or their farms are in the wrong spots. you take mental notes: ‘okay, that’s not my vibe. i’m not gonna do that.’ this also brings me to the point that learn from other peoples mistake too. my friend right now is going through a very tough break up. and the guy is being a total asshole. and the more she talk about the relationship to me how it was, and we try to get the cues like “oh we could’ve realised back then when he said this particular thing” that he is not the one. (the fact he was a total sexist asshole) i realised that when i get into a relationship, and if i see my future boyfriend having these traits, i will leave. why? because I learnt from her mistakes of letting things slide, and not noticing the minor red flags that later became worse.
(back to the topic) then, you create an image of your ideal village in your head. you don’t copy anyone, but you take inspiration. you think, ‘this is my aesthetic, this is how i want my village to function.’ you make a mental note of all the details where the farms will go, where the population will live, how everything will flow. and then you start building, step by step, upgrading, improving, and making decisions based on the vision you created. now apply that same concept to your life. create an ideal version of yourself (alter ego) in your head. imagine your ideal life, your ideal personality, your dream self. think about who she is, how she thinks, how she acts, what her daily habits are. don’t just copy someone else’s life take inspiration. maybe you admire someone’s confidence but not their style, or their work ethic but not their priorities. fine. make mental notes and adjust it to fit your vibe. every time you make a decision or work to improve yourself (your current avatar), use that ideal version of yourself as a guide. ask yourself, ‘what would she do? how would she handle this? what choice aligns me closer to her?’ take inspiration from her and let her energy fuel every upgrade you make. step by step, you’ll start building a life that’s completely aligned with the vision you’ve dreamed of. for example in pubg. the end goal is to become a conqueror so what you do every single time when you play that game is make sure that you’re good with your teammates, you get the most kills, you win every single match, because that is what will bring you to your end goal.
the bars of life
1. health bar
health is the foundation, the core, the absolute main bar. without health, nothing else matters. it’s like playing a survival game if your health is low, you’re dead in the water, right? you can’t progress, you can’t fight, you can’t level up. every single step in your journey starts with taking care of your body and mind. health is everything. make sure you’re eating right, sleeping enough, working out, and keeping your mind in a positive, stable place. the healthier you are, the more you’ll be able to conquer in all aspects of life. keep this bar maxed out, or you won’t even have the energy to fight for your dreams.
2. physical bar
now, let’s talk about the physical bar. this is all about how your body looks and feels. how’s your physique? toned? fit? are you putting in the work to make sure your body is in shape, or are you letting it slide? it’s not just about the gym though—it’s about how you present yourself. do your clothes flatter your body type? are you dressing in a way that highlights your best features? are your nails done, your hair styled, your makeup light but on point? when you walk into a room, does your physical presence demand attention and admiration? this is about taking pride in your appearance and making sure your physicality aligns with the highest version of yourself. everything from your posture to the way you dress, this is how people will notice you. own it.
3. mental bar
the mental bar is all about your mindset, emotional health, and mental well-being. how do you show up in the world every day? what is your internal dialogue like? are you a powerhouse of positivity and productivity, or are you letting negative thoughts control you? this bar is about building a mindset that propels you forward, no matter what life throws at you. like i always say, every single brick life throws at me, i will build a castle out of it—or a shrine. i don’t care what happens, it’s all fuel for my fire. this is the mental toughness you need to develop to grow.
if you’re facing challenges—whether it’s dealing with stress, anxiety, or depression—take care of your mental health. if you need a therapist, get one. if journaling helps you unpack emotions and thoughts, make it a habit. every step you take to improve your mental health is a step toward leveling up your life. every time you choose a positive, productive mindset, you’re not just surviving—you’re thriving. strengthen this bar, and everything else in life becomes more manageable.
your mental bar is not just about surviving the chaos—it’s about learning to navigate it with grace, strength, and an unbreakable belief in your ability to create your dream life.
4. spiritual bar
the spiritual bar is your path to alignment with yourself and the universe. this is where you connect with your higher self, your energy, and your beliefs. spirituality isn’t just about religion—though it can be if that’s part of your journey. it’s about meditating, doing yoga (especially Kundalini, like i mentioned), and tuning into the deepest parts of yourself. when you start aligning your chakras and balancing your energies, you’re strengthening this bar. it’s about connecting to something greater than yourself—whether that’s through rituals, prayer, or mindfulness practices. this is the bar that ensures your spirit is nurtured, your energy is clean, and your soul is grounded. if you’re in tune with yourself and aligned with your truth, you can face anything the world throws at you.
5. financial bar
now, let’s talk about the financial bar. this is where you track your wealth, your earning capacity, and how financially empowered you are. how’s your financial situation? are you getting paid what you’re worth? are you bringing in new streams of income? every single time you land a promotion, secure a new deal, or create another source of income, this bar rises. even small wins matter—getting that side hustle going, saving a little extra this month, investing in yourself. all these things count. this bar is about actively working toward your financial freedom and success. if you’re serious about leveling up in life, this bar has to be taken seriously. wealth isn’t just about money—it’s about abundance in every area of your life. when you strengthen this bar, you give yourself the power to live the life you want
6. career bar
the career bar is all about progression, ambition, and success in your professional life. every time you take a step forward—whether it’s landing a promotion, launching a side hustle, or expanding your business—it’s a win for your career bar. it’s not just about the outcome, but about the process too. when you learn a new skill to level up in your field, or when you push yourself to take on more responsibility, this bar grows. every single action you take to further your career—no matter how small—contributes to building the empire you want. it’s about building something that lasts and ensuring that your career serves as the foundation for the life you envision.
7. social bar
the social bar is about how you connect and interact with others. it includes your relationships with family, friends, lovers, and colleagues, as well as your social media presence. every time you make a meaningful connection, whether it’s through a new friendship or strengthening bonds with existing relationships, your social bar grows. it also covers your social media footprint—every time you post something, earn followers, or engage with your audience, you’re building your social presence. the way you show up in the world, the vibe you put out, and how others perceive you are all part of this bar. what’s important is that you’re intentional about your social connections. it’s not just about quantity, but quality. how do you carry yourself? how do people feel around you? remember, you can always adjust the way you’re perceived by adjusting how you act. we’ll dive deeper into how you can shift your social presence to your advantage later on.
8. legacy bar
the legacy bar is about the impact you leave behind and how you’re remembered. while you might not need to focus on this too much at 17 (like me too), it’s still something that will guide your actions as you grow older. your legacy is like the final level of your life game—it’s the impression you leave on others, the tangible and intangible things you pass on to the next generation. think about it like this: your legacy could be how generous you were. maybe you donate to charities, help the less fortunate, or fund scholarships. maybe you leave behind a family with strong values, or set up a business that supports others and creates opportunities. or even, it’s the homes you buy and the wealth you build that your kids will inherit. that’s a form of legacy too—creating something that endures, that your children or loved ones can benefit from long after you’re gone.
you want to make sure you’re giving back—whether it’s in terms of charity, helping your community, or creating something that continues to benefit people beyond your time here. it’s about living with intention, creating something greater than yourself, and making sure that when people look back, they say, “wow, she did something good.” when I think of my legacy, I want to be known for making an impact on my country, helping its economy grow, and providing jobs. so, always think about the ripple effect your actions will have not just on yourself but on the world around you, long after you’re gone.
9. environmental bar
okay, so let’s talk about your environmental bar. this is pretty much everything around you: where you live, who you hang out with, and what you’re consuming—whether it’s people, media, or food. your environment shapes you more than you think. if you live in clutter, your brain gets cluttered. if you’re surrounded by negative energy or toxic people, guess what? that negativity starts rubbing off on you. toxicity? it’s contagious. trust me. this is why i always say: your environment is EVERYTHING. let’s say you’re stuck in a place where people are draining your energy, or your room looks like a hurricane hit it��what’s happening? your life starts feeling chaotic. but if you clean up your space, set boundaries with toxic people, and start surrounding yourself with supportive, positive vibes, you’ll see that your life follows suit. if you’re surrounded by success-driven people, guess what happens? you start moving differently too.
for example, i know my current living situation is toxic. but, once i move out, that’s going to be my environmental grace. i’ll finally have the space to thrive, away from negative energy. maybe for you, it’s as simple as clearing your workspace or unfollowing people on social media who bring you down. the key is that you’re actively creating a good environment for your growth. declutter, move people who don’t vibe with you, and make sure everything you interact with is aligned with your goals.
10. fun and recreation bar
listen, life isn’t just about hustling and grinding, okay? it’s also about having fun. and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. people always forget that joy and peace are important parts of growth. hobbies, fun experiences, and doing things that bring you relaxation and joy are just as vital as your career or health bar. sure, you might not make money from every hobby, but if it brings you peace or helps you unwind, then it’s worth it.
like me, i might not be making millions off of drawing, but damn, it’s relaxing. it’s something that i look back on and feel proud of. the point is, don’t skip out on fun. go out with friends, explore new things, travel, dance, create. don’t just work to live—live to enjoy it. make time for meaningful parties, exploring new places, or just learning something new for fun. trust me, it will make you feel whole. it’s the only life we’ve got, so might as well enjoy it. while also being productive (im sorry had to add this 😭)
11. intelligence bar
okay, this one should be obvious, but let me make it clear: your intelligence bar should always be leveling up. this is the bar for everything you do to expand your mind, whether it’s learning a new skill, reading a book, acing a test, or just getting smarter from life lessons. it’s not just about school or formal education; it’s about constantly seeking knowledge. every time you learn something new—whether it’s about physics, psychology, or how to make the best goddamn smoothie—your intelligence bar grows.
never stop learning. school isn’t the only place for growth. you’re an adult now—take control of your learning. buy books, watch educational videos, take courses that interest you, and dive into everything that can help you grow intellectually. intelligence doesn’t stop when you leave school, it grows with you, forever. always be leveling up your mind.
watch her video to get more info on this topic (she is MOTHER) literally.
youtube
youtube
youtube
cheat codes in the game of life
read this blog by me first
life is full of cheat codes if you know where to look. one of the easiest ways to hack your life and manifest your desires is by using subliminals, grabovoi codes, eft tapping and even customizing your ChatGPT. these tools are like magic spells, designed to align your subconscious mind with your goals. for example, grabovoi codes are just numbers, but when you write and repeat them, they can bring about extraordinary shifts in your life. subliminals work and eft tapping the same way reprogramming your mind while you go about your day. and with ChatGPT, you have a personal assistant that can help you navigate any life situation, offering advice and insight whenever you need it. these are your personal life hacks use them to transform your reality with ease.
okay, let’s dive even deeper into these cheat codes, because once you start using them, you’ll realize how easy it is to shape the world around you. let’s talk about altering your social image—this is like an advanced life hack that many people, especially celebrities, are already using, but they’re not telling you how. you know how celebrities act on social media, right? that perfectly curated, almost “too good to be true” persona? the thing is, that’s not really them. most of them aren’t as perfect as they look in front of the camera, and they sure as hell don’t act the same behind the scenes. think about the people who might’ve bullied you in the past. they might have treated you like crap, but when they’re in front of others? angels. they put on this sweet, charming persona to get what they want. it’s all about duality—using different faces to your advantage. so why not do the same?
you can reinvent the way people see you. perception is everything. for example, let’s say you want to be perceived like a star, like an icon. one of the biggest secrets to this is creating a unique persona—something that screams you, but is captivating enough to make others want to be around you. think about how a lot of idols have such a distinctive style or energy. that is the cheat code. they don’t just wear the coolest clothes, they embody a vibe, an energy that makes them stand out in a crowd. so, how do you do it? first, know what you want. if you want to be that calm, collected, alluring figure who commands attention without even trying, start by adopting a few things that you know fit that style. if you want that dark, sultry energy, you need to own it—the way you talk, walk, dress, and even the way you hold yourself should exude confidence.
take someone like Dakota Johnson she has this quiet-chaotic energy about her, right? she speaks slowly, her words dripping with this almost sultry vibe. she doesn’t try too hard. it’s not about being overly energetic or trying to impress; it’s about confidence, calmness, and an air of mystery. she can make something as simple as a joke feel funny and seductive because of the way she says it. that’s the magic. it’s not about being loud or brash to get attention, it’s about learning how to carry yourself in a way that leaves people wanting more.
here’s the trick you don’t need to be a different person; you just need to refine your vibe. create a version of yourself that’s like an upgraded avatar. and then, simply start to live like them. how would your alter ego talk? would they speak with more authority? would they be more laid back, or would they be mysterious? do they have a sultry, slow tone when they speak? model yourself after that, and it’ll become second nature. this is where the pluto in aquarius energy comes in if you’re an aquarius (or have aquarius placements), this is your moment. you have the power to reinvent yourself in ways that you never thought possible. take this time to shift your self-perception and how the world perceives you. you can break out of old habits, behaviors, and expectations that others might have of you. this is your chance to become the best version of you, the version that’s unstoppable.
how do you get started?
1. talk like her: figure out how your alter ego would speak. take note of the cadence, the tone, and the vibe they exude. do they talk slower? more deliberately? maybe they joke with a certain confidence that makes everyone laugh, but also feel intrigued. learn to replicate that tone.
2. dress the part: style matters. you can’t be a fashion icon if you’re always dressing like a potato sack. find a style that feels unique to you, but also gives off that vibe you want—whether it’s sleek, bold, or soft. make sure your clothing complements the persona you want to show the world.
3. be unpredictable: people love mystery. don’t always let them in on everything. make them wonder about you. embrace the chaotic quietness—be the person who seems calm, but you always have something up your sleeve. keep them intrigued.
4. embrace the duality: you can be whoever you want to be. show one side to certain people, and another side to others. be strategic about how you present yourself in different scenarios. this is how you gain control of your social image.
5. confidence is key: once you start showing up as this new version of yourself, your confidence will shoot through the roof. people pick up on energy. if you believe in the persona you’re creating, others will too. and that’s how you start changing how people perceive you.
the beauty of this is, you’re not just faking it. you’re becoming it. you’re tapping into a version of yourself that’s always been there, just waiting for the right moment to step into the spotlight. the more you practice this, the more natural it becomes. “fake it till you make”
so, here’s the game plan: figure out your alter ego, start speaking like them, acting like them, dressing like them, and above all, own it. no one can compete with a version of you who’s fully aligned with your highest self. this is the cheat code to creating your dream life and stepping into the role you were always meant to play. use mindmovie, vision board, manifestation books to keep yourself aligned with your desires and goals
yeah, seriously, take this game of life really seriously. it’s not just about coasting through, it’s about making moves that align with your goals and dreams. your environment plays a huge part in that—where you live, who you’re around, and what opportunities are available. if you’re in a place that doesn’t nurture your dreams or support your growth, it might be time to think about moving. i’m in the same boat—i know the dreams i have won’t be fully supported where i’m at, so i’m already planning my next moves. but remember, everything is strategic. you have to play to win, baby girl. don’t settle for anything less than the life you deserve. make the changes, take the risks, and keep leveling up.
life’s like a game, and there are plenty of players trying to win, but how do you outsmart the competition? it’s not just about luck—yeah, that plays a part, but it’s also about skill, strategy, and having the right people around you. you can’t level up on your own, and just like in any game, teamwork makes all the difference. think of it this way: the kings and rulers in history didn’t get where they were alone; they knew how important it was to have the right team by their side. whether it’s friends, mentors, or business partners, you need good people who can support, challenge, and push you forward. surround yourself with those who elevate you, not drain you. build a strong, skilled, and loyal team because with the right crew, you’ll always be ahead of the game. just like the environment you choose—quality food, media, and surroundings—your team matters too.
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life is like a mix of different games, okay? think of it like the Sims where you have the ultimate free will. you can literally do whatever you want, and it’s up to you how far you take it. want to be a singer? start posting your singing videos everywhere—Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and even Twitter. manifest it, use subliminals, grabovoi codes, EFT tapping, and let ChatGPT help you figure out the algorithm and best ways to grow. life gives you all the tools, so use them to build your dream life.
but life isn’t just the Sims, it’s also like Chess. you have to be strategic about when and how you move. be nice but not naive, be a bitch sometimes too period. don’t throw out your best pieces too soon keep things lowkey and make others underestimate you. right now, I’m not the top student in my class, but I’m playing the long game. I’ll show people my pawns first—small, safe moves. later, when it’s the right time, I’ll pull out the knight or queen to checkmate the competition. keep people guessing. be mysterious. don’t tell anyone what you’re planning until it’s already in motion. keep your moves quiet, let them think you’re just playing small, and when the time comes—boom, you’ll show them exactly what you’re capable of.
this is where your team really comes into play. think of it like playing PUBG—if your team sucks, you suck. you can’t lead a squad full of lazy players and expect to win. it’s like trying to win a game while everyone else is just chilling. that’s why you have to be super selective with who you let into your inner circle. the people you’re building your success with need to be on the same level as you, otherwise, you’ll just drag each other down.
i’ve mentioned this before i literally asked a tarot reader to read the people around me, and she pointed out which friends weren’t good for me. guess what? those people turned out to be exactly as she said. so, don’t ignore your gut feelings. these are the people who will be there when you make it big, so make sure they’re the right ones. remember, in life, you don’t often get to choose your teammates, so be super careful who you let in. if you’re young, like 17 or 18, this is the time to build those lifelong friendships. trust me, pick wisely, because they’ll either help you level up or hold you back.
if i were to start a new life from today, this would have been the blog post that would have helped me reach that level. so, thank you so much for reading it through and through, and i hope you like it. also, i’m gonna pin this blog, and from now onwards, every single blog that you’ll see on my channel, on my account, will be somewhat similar to this. i’ll be using this blog as a centerpiece in future posts, building on it and referencing it. so stay tuned, because there’s a lot more to come, and this is just the beginning of the journey. and i’m gonna be doing all these again with you guys too. :)
also, happy 20 years of success as pluto returns to aquarius. love you guys.
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ramp-it-up · 9 days ago
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Peach, Part I
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.
Word count: 3.5 K
Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)
A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!
This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
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———
Late October
Steve Rogers was frustrated.
His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.
Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.
Except that it wasn’t really.
“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”
Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.
More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.
“Behave. Or I will make you…”
Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.
All of the time.
It seemed impossible.
“I love you too, Frumoasă.”
Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.
When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.
“Everything good?”
Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.
“Everything is great.”
Then Bucky frowned.
“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”
The blond raked his hand over his face.
“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”
“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “
Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.
“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”
Bucky gazed out of the window.
“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”
Steve sighed.
“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”
The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.
“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”
Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.
—--
Early November
You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.
You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.
“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”
Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.
“See there! It’s better already!”
You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.
“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”
Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.
“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”
She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.
“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”
Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.
“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”
You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.
“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”
You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.
But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.
—--
“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”
Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.
“Okay, you know what…”
“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”
You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.
“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”
“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”
“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”
“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”
“Go get that nut video.”
Your cousin laughed at you.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”
“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”
Easy for her to say.
—---
The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.
Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.
The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.
On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.
He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.
It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.
“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”
The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.
“Yeah, well. Traffic.”
Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.
“Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”
“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.”
Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.
“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”
Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.
“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”
Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.
“Sure.”
This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.
“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.
Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.
“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”
“Grant Stevens.”
A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.
“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”
Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.
—-
A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.
Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.
Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips were what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.
Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.
He was about to find out however.
Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.
“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.
Like you.
—--
“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”
"Dat azzz tho."
“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”
You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.
You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.
You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.
—-
When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.
Again, you were oblivious to him.
Steve, on the other hand, was undone.
Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.
As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.
Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.
You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.
Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.
Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.
When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.
You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.
Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.
You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.
—--
You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.
You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.
As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.
As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.
His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.
His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
You were objectifying your new co-worker.
That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.
—-
Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.
Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.
“Hi.”
It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and your eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that were holding him captive.
Then that mouth started moving.
“Hello. You the new barback?”
“What?”
Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get nearer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.
The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.
“Are… you… new… here?”
“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”
You extended your hand to him.
“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”
“Peach?”
The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.
“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”
Steve was speechless.
“It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”
Steve’s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.
“That’s a stage name, right?”
Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.
Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.
You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.
“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”
—--
“Don’t beg.”
‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.
You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.
He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.
You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.
You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.
“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”
For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.
“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”
“Yeah. Solidarity.”
Grant cleared his throat.
“Great moves up there.”
—---
You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.
He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.
“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”
You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.
“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”
You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.
As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.
—----
Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.
He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.
Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.
He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.
He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.
“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”
Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.
Wait.
Were those spurs?
Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.
The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.
These were grown men and women.
And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.
Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.
The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.
You were brilliant.
You were what made Regine extra ordinary.
—---
You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.
“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”
He shook his head.
“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”
Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.
You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.
“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”
“I did pretty good.”
Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars excited him.
“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”
You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.
“Holy Shit!”
You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.
“There’s a stack in here.”
“Whoa! Cool.”
Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.
“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”
Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.
“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”
You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.
Steve thought you were adorable.
“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”
You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.
“‘Night, Grant.”
You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.
Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.
Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.
This one was a peach.
-----
Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!
Part II
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shycloudkitty · 1 year ago
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His Sweetest Escape
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Summary: Leon returned from a mission. Safe but exhausted and traumatized as hell. He doesn't want to drown in the suffocating thoughts of survivor's guilt. He wants an escape. And you were always his sweetest escape.
Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader 
Tags: (NSFW 18+), MDNI, FWB relationship, Angst at first, talking about Leon's trauma (necessary for the plot), Oral (f receiving!), Cunnilingus, fingering, sitting on Leon's face, nipple play, Leon being a tease. A bit ooc? Probably. 
A/N: Hello Guys!!! My FIRST smut fic is here🤭. Yes I know…FWB again, but I just really wanted to write a smut fic with that trope😭. Also I am very serious about minors not interacting with this post. Please don't.
(Edit) : This can be considered a sort of rough prequel to Just a little touch. Cause for a prequel I have something else cooking up🤭
Hope you enjoy this and have a good day!! 😊😊
A huge thanks to @elfven-blog and @luniaxi for helping me a lot. A little birthday (belated) present to @nexysworld 🥰
Dividers by: @/cafekitsune
WC: 5.6K
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Another mission. Another horde of zombies and tyrants. And dozens and dozens of lives that he wasn't able to save in time. But it was a successful mission or at least that's what he was told by his superiors. 
It is said that a home perfectly reflects people's personalities. The things there give bits of how a person lives and wants to live, their likes and dislikes and much more. 
Leon tiredly pushed open the door to his apartment and deeply sighed as he slowly entered and closed the door behind him. 
And his cold and empty apartment gave a perfect reflection on who he was. The furniture was there, furnished of course. But that was it. No decorations or signs of someone living there. And that's how he felt he was. A person who had all the features of a normal person but cold and empty on the inside. 
But then again he never found a home. This was just a place to live in. 
Leon found a whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet and dropped to the couch, groaning as he sat down after a long time feeling his injuries stretch uncomfortably making him wince. Leaning his head back and staring at the empty ceiling, flashbacks of the mission running wild in his mind. Taking a big swig of his whiskey to numb it. Trying to forget everything about that God forsaken assignment. 
Leon kept drinking and drinking till he started to feel a bit numb to it and sighed tiredly to himself and pushed the bottle aside. Allowing himself to get a bit lost in his thoughts and closed his eyes. 
He was so fucking tired of all this fighting, fighting it to no fucking end and never seeing the ray of hope that all of this shit would end one day. Instead it only got worse. And he fucking hated it. 
His survivor's guilt continued to eat at him slowly and bit by bit on his consciousness, till he felt suffocated by it. 
He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and groaned in frustration. The fuck was wrong with him? Actually don't answer that, he already knows. 
He took a deep breath to calm himself. Closing his eyes and taking small deep breaths. 
Leon shook his head to himself and sighed again. This wasn't going to go away anytime soon. And he really didn't want to wallow and drown in the guilt or he was sure it would kill him more than it already had. He wanted an escape. 
A sweet escape that always made him forget about the hellish missions and the guilt that comes with it. 
He opened his phone and searched for your contact and pressed the call button. Bringing the phone to his ear as it rang. 
For some reason he felt a bit guilty for only calling you for these things, which was weird because it has always been like this between you both… and neither of you minded it before. 
Maybe he needs this more than he thought. 
“Hey handsome” Your sweet voice rang in his ear from the other side of the call making his mood a bit better. 
He cleared his throat and said “Hey… Doing anything right now?” Trying not to sound too desperate for her and playing it cool. 
“Sort of… But… I can be free if you want~” trying to tease him a little bit. 
A small smile bloomed on his face when he heard that and teasingly replied. “You will make time for me huh? That's sweet.” 
You chuckle and tease him back. “Oh you know… I could never say no to you…or a good time.”
Your teasing words made Leon smile a bit more. Knowing you could always tease him a little and get away with it and he wouldn't mind it even once cause he loved the tease. 
Leon then says. “Then be free and come here.”
“Uff… So bossy. Can't add a ‘please’ in your sentence?” You asked in a playful way. 
“One more comment out of your smart mouth and I will come to your apartment to show you how bossy I can actually be.” Voice getting sultry as he teased you. 
It's not like it will be the first time he bossed a sweet thing like you around… always so eager to please him, following the orders he used to give you while you were a moaning & whimpering mess but oh, so ready to do them… just for him. 
How could he not feel like a God when you were always ready to be his devoted worshiper. 
There was a beat of silence, and Leon smirked knowing that teasing worked perfectly in making you flustered. 
He took the opportunity and said “Hmm… that's what I thought, now come here…please” emphasizing the word please more on purpose. 
You lightly huff over the phone. “You know you are making a lot of promises.” your voice was clearly flustered even if you tried to hide it. 
“Cause I can keep ��em. I don't make empty promises and you know that…” His voice lowered. He knew how much he had an effect on you, and he couldn't help but use it to his advantage. 
Leon waited for a response. 
“...I do.” your voice came out more breathy than he expected. 
“Good girl… now come soon. I am waiting.”
He cut the call and tossed his phone aside, taking a deep breath. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he got plenty worked up from just one call and it was probably less than a minute. 
You were a damn vixen and he loved it. 
Now that you were most certainly coming over, he could at least take a shower. He got up from the couch with a groan and stretched his arms a bit and made his way to his bathroom. 
Removing his gear and soiled work clothes, he got in the shower and turned it on. Letting the water slowly wash the grime and dried blood away along with the horrible memories of the mission. 
Instead he focused his thoughts on you. He let his mind slowly fill with the sweet memories of you. Your soft red lips against his… They tasted like candy, sometimes cherry but always something sweet. 
And he especially loved when your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock…slowly taking him in and looking up at him with those greedy eyes all your senses focused on him to pleasure him. 
How could he not want a sweet thing like you around forever? 
But he wouldn't admit that out loud. 
Leon could feel himself get more worked up as he felt more images fill up in his head and groaned quietly.
He huffed lightly, and quickly finished his shower and got out of it. Moving towards his wardrobe and wearing his sweatpants and one of his casual blue t-shirt. And decided to wait till you arrived. 
15 mins later his doorbell rang and he grinned at the thought that it was you. And quickly walked towards the door and opened it. 
And there you were, a smile on your face and a soft blush on your cheeks. Wearing a white crop top and blue jeans to pair it up with and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. He bit his lip lightly and teasingly said. “You came huh?”
You rolled your eyes and smiled playfully at his words. “You called.” your voice being equally teasing. 
He grinned and let you inside his apartment and closed the door behind you. 
“When did you come back from your mission?” You asked as you went over and sat on the couch and looked at him. 
“Today actually…” Leon said as he came over and sat beside you. You raised an eyebrow and said. “Today... Like..Just now?” 
Leon nodded and shrugged lightly and looked at you. “Yeah. Why?”
Your eyes widened and said. “Wow… aren't you tired and sleepy as hell?”
Leon chuckled and shrugged. “No, not really.”
Well to be fair he was exhausted but that's why you were here… to take it all away. 
You frowned slightly not believing his words. After all, he was gone for a considerably long time. You then slowly ask. “Are you sure?”
Leon just chuckled and teasingly replied with a smirk. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it… Although I am flattered that you care that much about my health.”
While he was grateful that you were concerned for him, he didn't want to talk about it. He would rather focus on you and get lost in you than talk about his awful work. 
You roll your eyes and smirk at him and playfully reply. “Please… I am only asking because I don't think you will be able to last if you just came back home tired as hell.” 
You knew what you were doing, but again a little friendly fire never hurts anyone. And in this, you don't care if it hurts you. 
Leon looks at you in amusement and scoffs lightly, shifting closer to you as his voice lowered. “You think I wouldn't be able to last long hmm?” Slowly bringing his hand to your thigh and caressing it gently while looking in your eyes. 
You bite your lip and slowly say. “You heard what I said… Did I hit the nail with that?” 
No, but you did hurt his ego. And he was going to prove exactly how wrong you are. All in the name of friendly fire. 
Leon started to gently run his fingers to your inner thighs and rub teasing circles there. His hand inching closer and closer... but never touching you where you really wanted him to. 
His lips curve in a smirk and biting his lip lightly. “You really think that huh...” his hot breath hitting your neck. His gaze falling on your lips, on how you are slowly biting them. 
Your face grows flushed and goosebumps rise on your skin as he… slowly moves his free hand on your other thigh and does the same thing there. His smirk grows wider when he feels you squirming a bit. 
Everything around you feels so much hotter now… his touch, his eyes shamelessly tracing every inch of your soft body. 
Leon watched as you cleared your throat and looked away from him. “Not really… I was just joking, you know.” 
Leon smirked some more and teasingly repeated your words. “Just joking hmm?”
Your breath hitches when Leon presses his lips on your neck and presses feather light kisses on it while gently nibbling on it too. You tilt your head back giving him better access, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth lightly scrape your skin.
Your perfume slowly fills his senses and makes his mind hazy with lust. You smelled so fucking good to him. All this teasing was doing a number on him. So much so that now all he wanted to do was to fuck you dumb against this couch and still keep going. 
He gently bites your earlobe and mumbles. “Can't have you making jokes everywhere on serious matters baby…”
You gasp as he suddenly spreads your thighs apart, settling himself between them. His bites on your neck get a bit more harsher as his hands start sliding to your ass. Gripping them tightly and bringing you close, pressing you against the couch and him.
He then whispers. “Can't have a sweet thing like you leaving my bed thinking my cock wasn't good enough for your pussy…”
You squirmed in his grip as his words shoot straight at your core. His touch felt as if it was burning right through your skin. You opened your mouth to say something and a small whimper escaped your lips as he bit down on a much sensitive part of your neck. 
“Oh Leon…” You mumbled and looked at him. And he quickly sealed your lips with a kiss and mumbles against your lips. “I know baby, You love that cock don't you? Love how good it feels when it ruins your little cunt.” 
A small mewl left your mouth as two of his fingers reached your center, sliding them up and down on your clothed cunt giving you the stimulation you were craving. 
Leon smirked at your little sounds and snakes his other hand under your crop top, slowly groping your right breast in his hand. And tauntingly says. “Yeah…Feels good when I give that cunt a bit of attention, Doesn't it? Already squirming under my fingers and I haven't even started.” 
Your body grew hotter as his fingers started to rub small circles over your cunt and now groping your breasts a bit harshly now. You can feel your panties getting wet from his teasing and lean more into his fingers to search for that friction. You whine and pout at him. “Leon…Stop teasing.”
He bites your earlobe. “You try to tell me what I should…And teasing you will be all I do tonight.” You pouted him in response and he just gave you a teasing grin.
As he says that he pinches one of your nipples making you jolt in surprise. You whine as he continues to pinch and roll it teasingly between his fingers drawing a needy moan from you. 
He then pulls away slightly and starts to unbutton your jeans and kisses you. He lightly tugs at your lower lip, giving you a pleasant shiver down your spine. Removing your jeans he cups your ass and drags it a bit closer for him to see. Smirking at the wet spot on your cute lacy panties. 
Soft moans and whimpers fall off your lips as he presses his thumb on your clit over the thin layer of the fabric and rubs slow teasing circles. 
His free hand makes its way to your chest and eagerly lifts your crop top and tugs your bra down to free your breasts. And latches his mouth to one of them and eagerly starts to suck on them, not even bothering to fully remove it.
He then starts to slowly suck on your nipples taking his sweet time with it while still paying attention to your cunt. His eyes are shut as if he was concentrating on the world's most important task ever. Your moans started to get louder and more whiny, and feel the flimsy fabric of your panties sticking to your folds by now.
He suddenly pinches your clit at the same time he gives a harsh tug at your nipple. Your body twitches from the sensation and you whine louder than before. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you gasped for breaths.
You looked down to see his face and whined to him. “Leon, I want more…please.” Your voice was more breathy than before. You gave him a pout and looked at him with those same needy eyes which he usually gave into.
He feels so proud for having you this way, seeing how quickly you used to melt for him and gave him the control he was so desperately craving without any resistance. And he loved it every single time. Seeing your red pouty lips, eyes filled with lust, messed up hair, flushed face, it made his heart skip a few beats every time… He could always get lost in your beauty and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Leon presses a kiss at your temple and drops another at your shoulder. And smirks and in a taunting tone whispers. “We just started baby, Already can't last hmm?”
Ass. That's what he was. An ass for using your words against you. 
He then pulls back and you whine at the loss of his touch. Panting softly, your skin feeling as if it was burning under his hot gaze. You look up at him and he wasn't any better but he had a better control on it. 
He grins and kisses you softly on the lips to make up for the teasing and softly asks “Want to move this to the bedroom?” You nod and kiss him back. Wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. 
You both kiss each other softly and he slowly removes the rest of your clothes and lifts you up in his arms and slowly stands up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your hands gripping his shoulders and continue to kiss him softly while he makes his way to his bedroom. 
He places his hands on your hips to hold you and never breaks the kiss even once. If anything he pulls you more close and deepens the kisses. He opens his bedroom door and slowly lays you down on bed and pulls away a bit and smiles at you and softly whispers. “Want more?”
You nod and he leans in close and deepens the kiss. Gently caressing your body all over, his hands kneading the soft plush fat of your thighs and hips. Tongue exploring your mouth sensually while kissing you. Both of your eyes closed while enjoying the sensual kisses and touches. This was much calmer than what you both were doing earlier but still very sensual to keep you both going. 
“Feeling better?” He mumbles against your lips. 
You chuckle softly and in a teasing tone reply. “I would feel much better when you actually start.” 
You feel a deep rumble from his chest as he laughs softly at that and shakes his head lightly. His voice takes a quick change from soft to sweetly seductive and whispers. “Fucking insatiable…Love it. Who could tell that a cutie like you was such a slut inside. But you are not gonna hear any complaints from me.”
Your cheeks burn red from his words as he now starts to kiss your neck and collarbone. A moan slipped from your mouth when he pressed himself forward and his boner made contact with your sensitive clit, letting you feel how much he was turned on right now. The cloth of his sweatpants gave enough friction to feel amazing as you started to grind against him, wanting to continue where he left off. 
Soft grunts slipped from his mouth as he felt you eagerly rub your pussy against him. A rough chuckle leaves his lips and he mumbles. “Patience baby…” and moves his hips away to stop it, pulling a whine from your mouth from frustration. 
He brings your lips in a deep kiss which you were more than happy to respond to. His hands found their way back to your chest to your breasts. Groping and massaging them and giving light tugs at your nipple which made your body twitch in excitement. 
He then tugged your lower lip, gave a harsh bite to it and tweaked your nipple lightly. He continues this motion of torturing you like this. While you lay there under him writhing and moaning for him. “Leon… I can't take it… please..”
The little piece of shit just laughs and tweaks your nipples once more making you whimper for him. And in a taunting tone says. “Oh yeah? You can't take it hmm? Too damn bad…”
You feel him rubbing those little buds under his thumb sometimes rolling it between his fingers while basically tongue fucking your mouth. You whimper, whine and even try to push him off but if anything that encourages him to do more of that. 
Soon you feel that invisible band in your stomach stretching and stretching… just waiting to snap. And Leon notices it, the way your body starts shivering and your moans get louder. He then leans in to whisper. “Gonna cum baby?”
You nod and look at him with a pout. “Please…” He just smirks and keeps doing what he was doing. Your body twitches and holds onto his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You are just so close… Right… there. 
And he pulls away. 
Your eyes immediately shoot open. “Nooo!” A loud whine leaves your lips and look up at him with a frustrated expression. 
How could he do this to you? Such a fucking tease? And you were so fucking close and he just had to pull away and ruin it. 
He had a big shit eating grin on his face but he wasn't faring any better than you were. His shirt was clinging to his body, face flushed red and his hair messed up. And the way you can see his dick bulging in his pants proved he was just as pent up as you. 
He was just teasing both of you to hell. Asshole. 
You gave a pout as the tears from frustration started to brim in your eyes. “You are so mean…” 
Leon smiles as he leans down closer to you and softly coos to you. “Aww… is my baby angry at me?”
You nod and continue to pout at him. Leon smiles and takes your face in his hands. And kisses you gently on your soft lips. You don't kiss him back at first but you hear his soft whispers to forgive him for teasing you so much. “Please baby… forgive me? I swear I wouldn't tease you now… Kiss me back?”
And you really wanted to stay mad at him but… you couldn't do that for much long. 
How could you when he looked at you with those blue lust blown eyes and gave you soft kisses across your face to make you forgive him? 
You then slowly kissed him back and he was more than happy to oblige. Kissing you softly, taking his time to ease you and then he says. “Ride my face? I promise I will let you cum this time..”
Your face went red and your eyes widened and mumbled against his lips. “Really? Are you sure you want me to do that?”
You feel him nod, lightly tugging at your lower lip and say. “Of course…Want that pretty pussy of yours on my face.”
It's not like this was your first time riding his face either...
Your face goes red but you are more excited than embarrassed. You nod and kiss him back with more fervor. “Okay… I will.”
He pulls away and finally removes his clothes. Removing his sweatpants and freeing his cock from it. Groaning softly as his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum leaking from his cock. Spreading it with his thumb from his tip to the rest and lightly strokes himself. Hissing at how sensitive his cock was from all that teasing. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of him naked. His body was littered with scars but that only made him more alluring at this moment. You just wanted to kiss and nibble on each scar till he was red from all the hickeys. It always took your breath away when you watched him like this. 
You lick your lips and come closer to him and give him your most innocent doe eyes and make your voice as seductive as possible. “Can I taste you?”
Leon feels his cock twitch at the request and lightly bites his lips. He was really really tempted to take you up on that offer but he had other plans… 
He tilts your chin up and says. “Look at you… so eager for this cock hmm? Already want to wrap your pretty lips on it.”
You feel yourself getting more slicked from his words and eagerly nod. “Yes…please, want to suck your cock so bad…”
Leon smirks and gives a teasing kiss on your lips. “Some other time baby, want you to ride my face today.”
Your face flushes deep red and nod. “Okay…”
He grins and lays back down on bed adjusting himself with pillows under his head and motions for you to come up. 
You bite your lip and slowly crawl over to him. Slowly bringing your thighs on either side of his head, hands grasping at the headboard as you position yourself over his face. 
A loud groan leaves his lips as his eyes locks down at your drenched cunt. He licks his lips and feels his mouth water, he immediately grasps your hips and thighs and positions your cunt in front of his hungry mouth. 
You gasp softly as you feel him suddenly shift you more and look down at how hungrily he was looking at you. 
Leon moves his hands to your ass and squeezes it gently. And looks at you. “Come on baby sit. And don't hover, don't want to waste a drop of you”  His words make your stomach flip. Your heart thundering in your chest as you try to come up with something to say but feel your words stuck in your throat. 
You bite your lips and follow his words. And slowly sit down on his face and the moan he let's out when his tongue makes contact with your clit was downright pathetic. He immediately tightens his grip around your thighs and your ass, closing his eyes and lapping at your cunt happily. 
You moan softly as you feel his tongue give you lazy, slow licks from your labia to your clit. Taking his time with it, slowly tasting through your folds. Swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit giving it occasional tugs with his teeth.
Your body twitches above him as your moans turn into cries of pleasure. Trying to move away from his face but he grunts and grabs your ass and pulls you back in. Giving your ass a light spank, “Don't move…” 
You squeal and close your eyes as you focus on his tongue, trying not to move that much. Biting your lip, one of your hands makes into his hair. He groans at the feeling of your fingers lightly threading through his hair. And pushes his tongue inside your sopping hole, slowly fucking you with it. 
He moans when he feels your juices on his tongue. You always tasted like a fucking heaven to him. He could stay between your thighs all day if he could. Drinking what you had to give to him while hearing sweet chorus of whines and moans as they left your mouth, his own favorite music to listen to when he came back home from those fucked up missions. 
You were his personal haven, letting him have you like this, he felt the luckiest man in the world. Feeling you tug his hair, squirming on his mouth and still riding his mouth like it was your last day on earth. He fucking loved it. He could get off on having you just like this. 
Your thighs squeeze around his head and tug at his hair a bit harder than necessary pulling a groan out of him. It only encouraged him to fuck his tongue into you faster. You squealed a bit as lifted you up a bit only to feel two of his fingers enter your cunt drawing a long moan out of you. Slowly sliding in and out of you, your wet walls eagerly sucking him back in. 
A loud groan leaves your lips when he starts to suck on your clit too. “Oh fuck…Leon!” Hips moving on its own, as he continues to finger you and tug at your clit. Curling his fingers inside and moving them against the spot which always made you see stars. Your body twitches and eyes roll in the back of your head as he moves his fingers faster. 
His fingers constantly assaulting that sweet spot within you, sometimes slowing them down to hear your pretty whines of protest and suddenly increasing the pace just to fuck with you. Feeling your thighs squeeze around his head tightly drawing a loud groan from him, the vibrations going straight to your core and giving you an instant jolt of pleasure. 
All the teasing slowly piled up and you felt that familiar band in your core just waiting to snap at any moment. You clenched tightly around his fingers. He hummed in satisfaction as he felt you do that, removing his fingers and pushing his tongue inside, wanting you to cum on his tongue instead.
He held your hips tightly to support you and let you ride his face as much as you wanted. Both of your hands going down to his hair, tugging at it while riding his face at your pace. Your clit constantly bumping against his nose making you a moaning mess above him. “Fuckkkk… Leon… feels so good… Just like that! Fuck! Yes!”
His eyes roll in the back of his head as he feels the stinging pain as you tug at his hair. Loving the pain and pleasure that came with it. One of his hands goes down to his cock and stroking himself in time with the pace that you set. Feeling himself getting closer and closer as you both kept going. 
He felt he could burst at any moment just from hearing the lewd noises you both were making. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
You open your eyes, your gaze drifting to the sight of him between your legs. And it instantly brought you closer to the edge than ever. His eyes were screwed shut, focused on giving you the high you were so eagerly chasing. His grip on your ass was tight enough to leave bruises, not that you cared.
You loved seeing his marks on your body anyway. 
“M’ gonna cum… so close…” you whined as you looked down at him. His eyes opened to look at the heavenly sight of you writhing above him and smirked. 
He winked at you and moved his tongue faster inside you and gave you a sudden spank from the hand that was already gripping you while he stroked himself with the other. 
You whine from the spank and feel that band inside you finally snap “Leon!”. He soon comes after you with a loud groan and hisses as ropes of thick hot cum fall on his thighs and abs. 
Your body twitches and shakes when the euphoria flows through your body. You felt so lightweight, feeling like you could drop at any moment. Leon gently grasped your waist with one hand and the other on your thigh, slowly helping you ride through your high. And eagerly drank up every drop. Humming softly in satisfaction. 
You whined softly still feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You tried to get off of him whining softly in protest and he gently lowered you down in bed. His chin was soaked with your release as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. 
He brought you close to him, pressing you against him and giving soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks. Both of you were breathing heavily in each other's arms. His soft kisses act as a soothing balm to your tired body. 
You gently caressed his hair and face in return as he started to pepper kisses along your collarbone now. “Feeling good?” Leon's soft voice entered your dazed mind. You smiled lazily at him and sighed softly. “I feel amazing…”
Leon chuckled and gave a soft kiss to your crown and pulled you closer. “Good…I would be disappointed otherwise.”
You chuckled and teasingly say. “In me or yourself?” He snickered and replied “You of course. I am amazing at what I do.”
You raise an eyebrow at him and say. “And I am not?” Leon smirked and bit your earlobe playfully. “That’s up for debate…”
You scoffed, giving him an offended look at him and narrowed your eyes at him “Excuse me?”
Leon had to bite back a chuckle as he saw you trying to be serious, and he could tell that you weren't serious either. Seeing your smile threatening to take over your face.
You huff when you saw a chuckle slipping from him. “You are laughing at me aren't you?” Still keeping your eyes narrowed at him. 
Leon cleared his throat, trying his best to be serious. “No, I would never laugh at you.” 
You rolled your eyes at him and said. “Liar.” 
Leon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement and playfully whispered. “You look cute when you are angry.”
Your eyes widened at his words and looked away from him to hide your blushing face from his comment “Whatever.”
Leon chuckled. “Uh huh… What is this then?” Poking at your red cheeks. 
You pouted at him and huffed. “Nothing okay? Just shut up.”
Leon’s snickered and a mischievous grin spread on his face. “You want me to shut up? Sit on my face again and then I will think.”
Leon's smirk widened as he saw your face flush red and looking away from him, squirming slightly as you thought about doing it again. Leon squished your cheeks and turned your face back towards him and looked at you with a smug face. 
“You want to sit on my face again don't you?” A knowing smug smile on his face. 
Your face turned beet red as you felt yourself heat up again from his words and slowly nodded. 
Leon smirked and started to kiss your neck all over again and mumbled. “So...fucking...insatiable.”
This was sure as hell gonna be a long night for both of you. But none of you had any complaints. 
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God. It's done. Oh my god. FINALLY. I honestly didn't expect this to take so much of my time but it surprisingly did. I guess it did cause it's my first time writing smut rather than consuming it lol.
Anyways... I hope you liked this fic. Hope it made your day!!🥰😊.
Until next time 😊❤
-Bella
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spockandawe · 4 months ago
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Oh, this is interesting. To me. I'm not sure it's interesting to anyone else! But I'm on my computer for once and FULL of words again, and I'm delighted to talk to myself given half an excuse.
So, I made a post about Long Live Evil! Because I cracked open the book and was absolutely taken aback by how transparently it seemed to be an SVSSS reskin. I wrote up a goodreads thing (it's whatever, I'm going to rehash the main points here too), because I was also full of words and beans after finishing the book yesterday, and after polling online friends, I was surprised to see that the comparison didn't seem to have organically occurred to anyone else, when it was so naked to me. I know there’s a TON of transmigration and isekai stories out in the universe, and pointing at one single book was a big claim, so I just had to assemble all my thoughts! I find this so interesting! And I reblogged my initial one-off post with a little more elaboration about some of the things that jumped out at me, then got on with live and went back to chipping at ORV and GHG, and shotgunned MADK this afternoon.
This is a subtle nod and a wink to my passionate love for these kind of... morally grey main characters! Calling them villains might be a bit much, I don't think there are many true villain protagonists out there (LLE included), and even Devil Venerable has a demonic cultivator who's doing demonic shit and killing loads of people... but with the ultimate balance of the heavens and earth as his priority. This kind of story is my jam. I was recced this book on the basis of transmigration and sketchy protagonists being my thing. I can't rightfully call SVSSS the best cnovel I've ever read, but it is my favorite. And I've probably reread it more times than any other cnovel.
So, that SRB post, huh? I put Long Live Evil behind me, and honestly even following up on the sequel is mmmmmdoubtful, but THIS snagged my attention again. First, the comparisons she's calling out as incorrect are wild to me. Draco and Harry? What? Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian?? (I had to ponder that one for a hot minute, but I bet you anything it's about 'the golden cobra' and 'the last hope' and that's just silly, they're not wangxian, they're MOSHANG)
I was recced LLE in one friend group, but I had an anti-rec from my book club friend group. My book club friend hadn't been at all impressed by it! And she's cool, and I talk up svsss and mxtx to that crowd every so often, without really expecting them to read it. I talk about transmigration as a plot device that I love, and the things that can be done with it! But with that connection in mind between the books, as I started LLE, I was jokingly defending the honor of SVSSS to this crowd, so I admit I was primed to recognize similarities.
I really truly did not make it far in the book before locking it down. I was getting vibes basically from the moment Rae started gushing about her problematic fictional fave, I referenced 95% certainty shortly after she makes the jump to the fictional universe, the golden cobra was 98%, Lia Mingyan's, I mean Liu Mingyan's lack of sex scenes was 99%, and the first pov section for Marius-jun was where I gave up and called it as a sure thing.
It'll be very funny if I'm wrong! I don't think I'm wrong.
Plenty of spoilers to follow, because I identified this inspiration early, I guessed basically every plot twist early, I don't have the patience to dance around spoilers while explaining how it all lines up.
Now, I said this elsewhere, but it bears repeating: I don't think this is plagiarism. I think it's tasteless to accuse an author of stealing and repurposing characters to her face. But I think it's also tasteless to repurpose characters as nakedly as happened here! Again? If I'm wrong? That's why I'm talking to myself on my blog and not messaging her directly (?????? who even does that). What are the stakes for me being wrong here? I look like a clown online? That would be terrible, I've never done that before! It's not a crime to write in ways I find distasteful. It's not a crime to write a book I think is not good, even apart from the use of fictional influences. But I like talking about my feelings online, and I can't be stopped!
But there's two aspects of this that make me somewhat uncomfortable in a less fun way. Both are contingent on the big IF. If this is inspired by svsss, I think it's not a classy move to take a Chinese story in a Chinese setting, inspired by the modern Chinese literary scene and classical Chinese fantasy, and just dump the characters into a generic western setting. Fanfic? Have fun and try to be respectful. Profic, making money off it? Ehhhhh. The question of how much change is necessary is a tricky one! It's not one I'm equipped to answer, this is not my wheelhouse or my place to speak. But it doesn't make me feel good!
However, here's where I have more personal stake:
Again, if this is inspired by svsss. It really doesn't feel great to see a queer story (a smash hit in more than one country!) stripped down for parts and made into a heterosexual story. It's not all heterosexual, we get side lesbians, we get men with homoerotic tension. But the central ship is now a guy and a girl. And it... stings a little extra, because in the story of svsss, the idea of assumptions about default (hetero)sexuality are such a central theme. A queer man has written a trashy, oversexed stallion novel where the hottest guy in the universe collects the hottest women like pokemon, and it sells so much better than the more personal stories he tried to write. He has to write this pandering trash to make money to live, he can't live on the more authentic stories he tried to tell before. The protagonist is the projection of his own insecurities and self-hate, and the protagonist's right hand man is his projection of his own ideal man. Another man transmigrates into the book, assuming that he himself is straight, assuming the protagonist is straight, and the force of their love changes the course of the entire narrative. In retrospect, it's upsetting to see those load-bearing themes casually carved out of the story and the hollowed-out remains used like this.
Anyways, in their place, now we've got running gags about how the heroine's tits are BIGHUGE now and she can't keep her balance because her GIANT HONKERS keep tipping her over.
I'm a little more bothered than I was yesterday! On the other hand, since I saw SRB's post, I've been chewing on that central ship. Full disclosure, it was one of my favorite aspects of the novel! My other favorite aspect is the dynamic between the golden cobra and the last hope (the moshang, which I think some people misdiagnosed as wangxian).
I know that the central ship here is the thing that's LEAST comparable to svsss, and the biggest roadblock in the way of my theory. On the other hand, I think it was the thing that HAD to change if this story was going to repurpose svsss without getting called out for being a classic 'bro can i copy your homework' adventure.
For this section, let's assume that I'm right and let's roleplay an author trying to figure out how to change Bingqiu into something not-obviously-Bingqiu. How do we need to differentiate Rae and Key from Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe.
First, we eliminate the martial sect thing. Easy peasy! That's a wuxia concept, and this book goes full nondescript western fantasy. She's not his teacher, he's not her student. And if she's not his teacher and he's not her student, why does this woman have power over this man, to build up the resentment that inspires him to turn the tables on her later? Well, in nondescript western fantasy, she's a noblewoman of some kind, and he's a servant of some kind. Noble lady treats servant like garbage, servant resents her. Doing great.
And to loop back around to the beginning of this a little, I think it really is key to this reskinning that Rae is a SHE. If the central ship remained queer, it would be so, so hard to pull away from the most identifiable thematic aspects of svsss. And pieces of what remain are... kind of bizarre for a normie heterosexual ship where our protagonist is aware that she's transmigrated into an impossibly desirable sexpot character!
Shen Qingqiu never considers that Luo Binghe might be interested in him because Luo Binghe is about to have a HAREM of beautiful women, he's the most heterosexual man of all time, and Shen Qingqiu is straight too! Besides, Shen Qingqiu is his teacher! He half-raised Luo Binghe! Even if Luo Binghe was bent, he wouldn't be interested in an old man like Shen Qingqiu!
Rae is 20, occupying a 24-year-old body. Her character's sexiness is relentlessly remarked upon from start to finish. Key is 18. Why is Rae so sure that he looks up to her as... a mentor, as an older woman? He almost goes down on her! He makes out with her! And she's like 'ah yes, it means nothing. lol. so funny how these things happen.' Bruh, at least after Luo Binghe kissed Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu finally got hit with the clue stick. Binghe didn't try to blow him only for Shen Qingqiu to keep noodling on about how Binghe definitely isn't into him in any sense, even the most oblivious man in the universe managed to catch on.
Why doesn’t Rae think there’s any chance of genuine attraction here? Yeah, I get that she's coming back from terminal cancer. She's doing great. She knows that the fictional character she occupies is one of the most desirable ladies in the land. He’s a teenager. He’s not expressing disinterest. A lack of horny for sexy lady ought to be more surprising for her. But I guess she’s slightly older than him and that small age gap has been magnified by the transmigration, so she conceptualizes herself only as his teacher, I mean mentor.
I’m not even mad at this dynamic. I love their chemistry, the ‘boss’ thing is cute, but lordt, I have to wonder if it’s meant to substitute for ‘shizun.’ But you know where this comparison really falls apart? Key isn’t really THAT much Luo Binghe.
At least, he isn’t in terms of personality. I mean, we’ve got the mysterious magical heritage, the healing factor, the unbeatable fighting skills, being beaten repeatedly because of the protagonist (tbh it’s sexier when she’s responsible, rather than just being a bystander), being yeeted into the abyss, I mean the ravine, to rise again and assume power as the merciless ruler of all the land. Oh, and he comes back from the dead still bearing the scar that represents her betrayal. In the original novel, he turned on her the moment he got his opening and was responsible for coming up with her gruesome torment.
(Also, Shen Qingqiu being terminally ill isn’t canon, but it’s very popular fanon, and it’s hard to ignore that with how hard the narrative lingers over Rae’s terminal illness as her gateway into this fictional world)
But! But the things that are different! Luo Binghe is a smart and sweet teenager, who had a rough start on the streets and has a tragically deceased single adoptive parent, but that’s their only backstory parallel, he doesn’t blacken until he’s thrown into the abyss. Not like Key, Key is a murder-happy sociopath, a former street kid who fought the odds and made good, and who’s a lot sharper and cleverer than the upper classes think someone like him should be. He utterly destroyed a righteous cultivator clan, I mean glassblowing guild, for the sake of revenge. Once our heroine scores a number of trust points with him, we unlock secret backstory about how as a small child, he experienced deeply formative hand trauma.
He’s Xue Yang.
It took me a moment to process the wangxian allegations SRB mentions in her post, because I was trying to figure out how someone would be aware of wangxian, and read that backstory, and somehow miss it. But it’s fine, I’m pretty sure they were actually talking about the golden cobra and the last hope! So LET’S TALK MOSHANG.
It was so funny. I was liveblogging the book to friends, because honestly, I do not jive with the buffy-esque joss whedon relentless quip-quip-quip writing style. I was struggling to stay engaged when the narrative never took a moment to breathe. And I perked up at the introduction of this new character! He seemed kind of fun, kind of meta, Key came over to share Secret Info with him, and I messaged the friend who recced this to me (also an svsss appreciator) ‘lol, what if he’s shang qinghua. just straight from svsss shang qinghua.'
Reader, a second transmigrator has hit the narrative.
Now, in some ways, he’s a disappointment to me. He’s not nearly as interesting as Shang Qinghua. Adding the author to their own narrative is way more fascinating to me than just dropping a rando into the story. But I’ll take what I can get, I think multiple transmigrators are almost always a fun decision. And for the queer reasons I mentioned above, I think Shang Qinghua ties into the themes of his novel a lot more strongly than Eric does here. I don’t want to call him ‘the golden cobra’ every time, I get more self-conscious every time I write it. And honestly, the reveal of Eric’s full Eric Whatever name feels a little awkward and… pointed compared to the sheer opacity of Shang Qinghua’s existence. Never mind what his name was in the real world, we don’t even know his name before he was a Peak Lord. I’m not upset we got a name or anything, it would make certain fannish activities a lot easier if Shang Qinghua had additional canon names, but it was an interesting detail in light of how parallel the characters are.
Okay! He’s not the author! He’s still a super-fan. He transmigrated into the book years before the LLE main character, and has settled in pretty well. According to canon as Rae knows it, he’s fated to be killed by his own favorite character. He’s fast-thinking and fast-talking, and scattered and all over the place, but dangerous when cornered and more competent than he looks. He deals in information and manages a network of spies. He’s a creative! He and the main character banter relentlessly and get along like a house on fire. He and the king’s trusted ice-cold right hand man share a weird codependent dynamic that’s part hostile, part homoerotic.
Marius has complicated feelings about not-shang-qinghua. Eric is a coward, he’d rather talk fast and lie than stand up for anything, he cowers and cringes and isn’t honorable. He and Mobei-jun also shared a deeply formative experience in their youth, where as a teenager in distress, Eric/Shang Qinghua appeared before them and announced their devotion. In Shang Qinghua’s case, it was offering to serve him (and saving him from huan hua injuries), and in Eric’s case, it was declaring him to be his favorite character (and saving him from sad teenaged isolation), but man. And in the end, after a long, fraught relationship, Marius/Mobei-jun is furious and strangely distraught when Eric/Shang Qinghua abandons him.
Guys, it’s not wangxian.
I think it hits less hard when Marius’s themes of family violence aren’t allowed to sit directly in the narrative, and when it seems like some vague berserker rage thing rather than Linguang-jun just bluntly wanting to murder him for practical reasons, but hey! This was still, genuinely, one of my favorite parts of the story. I wanted more more more of them, I would read this moshang au any day.
After that, the parallels get a little more nebulous! The comparisons between the abyss and the ravine are pretty obvious. I’m not sure why we decided to build our city and palace right on top of the pit of people-eating ghouls rather than literally anywhere else, but it means we don’t need to take a special field trip to Jue Di Gorge, which means we can do the bait and switch where it turns out Key was a heavenly demon all along. The temperamental King Octavian, the young master of the palace, one might even say the xiao gongzhu if they were feeling spicy, jealously tries to romantically monopolize half our main ship and has the other half flogged with a magic whip.
I already mentioned that Rae brings up that Liu Mingyan — wait, I said I’d change some answers so it wasn’t obvious I copied — Lia doesn’t get a sex scene in the books even though loads of other people did, just like Shen Qingqiu praises Liu Mingyan for her untouchable image in such an oversexed, gratuitous book. I don’t think it would be right to call Liu Mingyan a white lotus heroine in either SVSSS or PIDW, but her archetype is in that wheelhouse, and Lia is just a white lotus rival played straight (and played deliberately, another touch I liked). We don’t have made up animals like black moon rhinoceros pythons in LLE, but we do have leucrotas, which are like a lion and a hyena and serve no narrative purpose.
Oh, you know what else I forgot to mention? Rae gives Key one of her red ruby earrings, and he refuses to sell it, and stubbornly holds onto it until the bitter end. Is this Xue Yang holding onto the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen gave him, or is it Hua Cheng determinedly keeping Xie Lian’s red coral earring with him even through his own death? Por que no los dos?
There are things that are original in here. I know that this presentation undersells how much of the book is original. The trouble is, almost everything I thought was good is something that either was lifted from another person’s creative endeavors, or is being tainted by association with all the other naked lifts. Some of the noble ladies have an archery contest! That’s pretty new and fresh, huh? We didn’t have any archery contests in SVSSS!
Yeah, but we sure did in MDZS. And MDZS is already in play, because we’ve already got one character who’s just copy and paste Xue Yang.
There’s a thermocline of trust in this book that fell off for me sharply, and it turned a lot of this into a guessing game of ‘wait NOW what the refrance? owo'
I’m probably on a hair trigger by now, but I’ve also probably missed some things. And I’m sure this is a synthesis of multiple influences, because most stories are. But this feels like cooking and trying to season your dish with a little salt and then the container lid just falls off.
Emer isn’t a clear parallel to an existing character! Love that for her! Love a lady with an axe, especially if she gets a nice girlfriend! On the other hand, in terms of backstory? Wow, she’s been raised with our protagonist since early childhood, as not-quite-foster-siblings, but she was always the clear unfavorite and harbors a lot of resentment over that. Oh, and once Rae entered the story, Rae started trying to speedrun an enemies to 'hello hiiii we should bestiessss' arc with her. I think she had to have an axe, because a whip or a sword would make the Jiang Cheng and/or Liu Qingge vibes a little uncomfortably strong. She doesn’t follow their character arcs! But the disappointing thing is that it felt like she was just there to facilitate pasting the frankenstein patchwork of the narrative together rather than having an arc of her own.
(why did Marius stop to give her a sword lesson? Why did she immediately sneak onto the roof to eavesdrop on the king?? It’s hard to give her credit for being an original character when none of her original actions make sense in the greater universe)
Oh, I almost forgot, we’ve even got magic plot macguffin plants. While Binghe is in the abyss, Shen Qingqiu needs to get the Sun And Moon Dew Flower Seed so he can build an escape hatch for himself before Binghe wrecks his shit. Rae, on the other hand, needs to secure the Flower of Life and Death by an arbitrary deadline as an escape hatch so she can go back to her original life rather than being trapped here forever. Very different! There’s even little side tangents about how these plants can be so beneficial to others, Zhuzhi-lang is desperately trying to secure a seed to build a new body for Tianlang-jun (which Shen Qingqiu enables him to do, despite not knowing what he wants it for), and Rae thinks about how the flower could “save someone on the very doorstep of death,” and gives it away for that exact purpose. So different!
I need to cut myself off, otherwise I’ll keep going. Truly, there is original content in here. It was just all the stuff I didn’t like. The character quipping was. God. There sure was a lot of it! By sheer volume, that’s a lot of original content. Some of the extended cast was interesting, I enjoyed the Horrors and their brothers, I liked Valencia. Now, I didn’t like how basically every girl ADULT WOMAN in this cast was in shitty teen mean girl mode. I didn’t like how immature every character interaction period was. I lost track of how many times Rae was going around in sexy clothes and rando servants were like “HARLOT,” out loud about a favored noblewoman, you know, as you do. Especially when her bodyguard is pulling against his choke chain just waiting for an excuse to do a murder. I don’t need Rae to be the picture of flawless maturity. But nobody is mature, full stop, not even the set dressing servants.
For a less loaded example, the cumplane friendship dynamic is here, practically intact. Shen Qingqiu can't snipe about authorial choices, because Eric isn't the author, so instead Rae and Eric squabble about favorite scenes and favorite ships and such. But it isn't nearly as charming when we don't see these two characters dropping their dignified Peak Lord cultivator roleplay to talk shit with each other. Rae and Eric never have a filter once in this book. They are always Like This, it isn't a secret face that gets unlocked when they're bouncing off each other, they are never circumspect, never have a filter, never have any idea they shouldn't be speaking their full thoughts at full volume 24/7. Even after this starts to have material consequences when they're inevitably overheard! It's an immersion-breaking level of immaturity, which is terribly frustrating when the original dynamic that I loved is only changed in such minor ways.
And another thing that actually tastes way more sour than it did on first reading – Valencia is probably the least mean girl of all the women in the cast. She’s delightful. Too bad that in every scene but her last one, Rae, who repeatedly references her own experiences having her body and appearance ravaged by cancer, cannot for love or money stop talking about how uggo Valencia is.
I know this is an adult novel. The characters are, by age, adults. There’s almost an oral scene. God, I wish we’d gotten the oral scene. But by every other metric, the characters are all high schoolers and I’m an exhausted adult muttering to myself ‘they’ll grow out of it, please GOD let them grow out of it.’
Again, none of this is a crime! Nobody forced me to finish the book! And I did enjoy the book. Parts of it! But that very distinct partial enjoyment experience almost forced me to dissect my own emotional response. And truly, other than a few flashes like Valencia, almost everything I enjoyed about the book was something I could trace directly back to one author, and mostly to one book by that one author. I… enjoyed half of the book. And if I can track most of that half back to mxtx and svsss, I really think that says something about how much wasn’t done to make the inspiration behind this book the author’s own.
It's disappointing! I read this book because I like svsss, I read it because I want more books like svsss, I read it because I trawl the novelupdates tags looking for more books that will hit me the way svsss did. It doesn’t taste good to be served reheated svsss with expired buffy sauce drizzled on top. It tastes even less good once I have a minute to think about what turning an m/m meditation on sexuality and self-image and assumptions about others into a m/f snooze does to the themes I loved so much. It stings to see an author rehash a book that was/is so important to me, and see what they kept and what they threw out, and be like ‘oh, so… these were the elements that mattered to you?’
Again, I hate to be redundant with this, but. I think calling this book plagiarism would be overdoing it. I think it’s tasteless. I don’t think being tasteless is a crime. It remains wild to me that she’s getting messages calling out her supposed inspiration, even if I’m simultaneously criticizing the judgment of the people making those specific comparisons. And I ABSOLUTELY understand why she’s reluctant to own up to the specific inspirations behind this book, because good lord. If it was me, I’d be professionally embarrassed too.
It’s not my job to be the book quality police, but I think someone as experienced as this should be able to do a better job of synthesizing inspirations into something original. I dropped ‘can’t afford to offend my scheming disciple’ earlier this year, because that narrative couldn’t shake the taste of stale svsss fanfic, and it was much more subtle than this is. Once again, if I’m wrong, this post will be retroactively VERY funny and I’ll be all ears to see what her inspirations actually were. I don’t think I’m wrong.
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louisisalarrie · 11 months ago
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ALRIGHT SO I was reminded of this today by a lovely mutual when we were discussing the crazy times of early larry. This… well… this was a great time to be in the fandom. It was chaos. I’ll link the original post I found of this back on my blog from 2013 as well, but I want to add my commentary throughout this post just to explain to all you newer larries what the HELL happened here (and that original post is missing one VERY important picture…)
So… if you think we are excellent detectives now, back then we were constantly finding things because there were so many things happening. The boys and their mothers used Twitter as a place to openly chat and talk shit and Jay and Anne were always tweeting each other about larry and everything… but, these tweets were still in the public eye. It just was a different time, and larrry content was still high on Twitter.
However, there were many more platforms available that the boys could use without being directly in the fandom’s eye. This included Pinterest / Blogspot.
Now, we only ever found Harry’s, and we searched for the other boys ones but couldn’t find anything and I doubt they had them. It was very on brand for Harry to have a Pinterest, so, let’s have a little look, shall we?
I screenshotted the first picture below today. This is Harry’s blogger account. This is still up, although the account hasn’t been active since 2013.
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The below photo is from the original post about this whole Pinterest thing. We all clicked on it. It was verified and I saw it with my own eyes. It’s not photoshopped
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So anyway, let’s start with his blog before we jump into Pinterest. His blog is adorable! There are more articles than just the one below (screenshot taken today, the link to this blog is here)
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So anyway, back in the day, he really didn’t receive many comments or anything. It was a pretty quiet little blog, that sadly, didn’t last that long.
So let’s have a squiz at his Pinterest, shall we?
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It was lovely to find his Pinterest. Seeing all the things that he liked, that sparked joy for him… it was truly lovely and such a cool way to connect to our boy. Obviously, by the follower count, it was a little more well known when this screenshot above was taken. However… the earlier screenshots from his Pinterest were a… a time to be alive. When we first found it, we went through his boards, and some photos he’d uploaded and pinned. Have a look…
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And so… we were all kind of like okay. Wow. What if this is really him? But…. There’s nothing proving it’s him. And then, we got this photo (which I never see floating around anymore, and we hadn’t seen it prior to this). AHEM WHAT IS THIS SIR THIS WAS TRULY WILD
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We lost our minds. There was so much stuff on his profile, a picture of a curly haired kid in suspenders, a lot of pride and larry and Louis stuff in a folder called “be happy”, but alas, the mobile app will only let me post 10 pics. But, there was also this little cheeky dig at you know who, which I loooooove
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And oh!!! Remember louis’ black tie 21st that Harry threw??? THIS was one of his boards before Louis had turned 21. There was no way a fan guessed he’d be having a black tie 21st.
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BUT everything Louis related, whether it be his 21st or that chihuahua or the photo of them together, got deleted soon after we found it. Obviously we freaked out, tumblr had a meltdown, we had some pretty solid larry evidence on our hands. But the old stuff and anything related to Louis or Harry’s sexuality, got deleted and Harry continued to use it for a little while after. Then, the whole acct was deleted. Which… interesting… why would you bother deleting the whole acct? There wasn’t just larry stuff, there was a heap of things that Harry shared and pinned and loved and it was really cool. Would have been a nice little archive. But the larry evidence was too strong. So it got deleted and we only have screenshots, unfortunately.
But, I can assure you, we all clicked on that Pinterest link and we all saw it with our own eyes. It was verified. It was him. This was real. I scrolled through all of those photos. We also found a tumblr very similar, under the same username, but it disappeared around the same time too.
However, the blog didn’t have anything larry on it, so it’s still up. But yeah. There you have it. Some more larry lore that I forgot about until today. Hehe. Original post with some more commentary from my tumblr in 2013 here
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moonywritez6 · 1 year ago
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Kinktober Day 2 Vampire (Reupload)
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Character: Yuma Mukami x Reader
Reader: Fem Reader
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, blood, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, degradation, harsh language, Marking, possessive Yuma
Wc: 3,610
A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!
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You let out a small sigh as you lay in the center of your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you found yourself deep in thought. 'How mad will he be? Should I try to cover it? No, he'll notice.' You feel your brows knit together as you frown, bringing a hand to your neck to carefully slide your fingers over the two bite marks, the skin slightly red and swollen from having been pierced through earlier that night. "What if I just run away until it's healed?" You shake your head at your words as you sit up slowly, walking towards your bathroom. Once inside, you look into the mirror, fingers carefully caressing the wound as you let out a slight hiss from the stinging pain. You grip the sink as you put your head down in defeat. "Yuma isn't going to be happy when he gets back!" You whined, already imagining your boyfriend's reaction. 
You were a sacrificial bride like Yui; only you had been assigned to the Mukami household. Of course, none of the guys took an interest in you as they were more focused on Yui, but you didn't mind, as it just meant you wouldn't constantly have to deal with them trying to feast off your blood. However, this changed when, one night, you stumbled upon Yuma, looking especially tired due to hunger. At first, the thought of leaving him to suffer did cross your mind. Still, seeing the usually gruff and mean vampire looking so tired and almost pathetic, you couldn't help but give him pity as you went and offered your blood to him, stating that it was the only thing you were even alive for and that he should be grateful. Since then, Yuma and you had grown really close, eventually developing a relationship when Yuma declared that no other man was allowed to drink your blood. 
Your ears perk up when you hear voices enter the house, causing you to panic as you quickly try to lock your door and hide under your sheets, praying that Yuma would be too tired to visit you. Wishful thinking, right? After a few minutes of being home, you heard a loud knock on your door, causing a small curse to leave your lips as your grip on the sheets tightened, knuckles slowly turning white as you feared for your life. After a few more knocks from the door, followed by silence on your end, the doorknob started to shake, indicating that the person on the other side was getting annoyed. "Oi! Y/n, why the hell is the door locked?" You heard your boyfriend's voice call out, annoyed from the other side. You slowly pull your head out from the sheets as you shakily answer the man, knowing there is no use in pretending not to be home. 
"I-I'm not feeling too good! So don't come in!" You called, mentally cursing the stutter in your voice from nerves. The doorknob stopped moving as he took a moment to process your words. "Huh? You looked fine earlier when I saw you." He muttered in a voice, sounding like he wasn't buying your excuse. "W-well, I'm not anymore, so go away!" You yelled before hiding under the blankets again, your eyes squeezed shut, your nerves going wild at the potential rage of the man on the other side. You hear a small grunt followed by silence, allowing your body to relax, your grip on the sheets loosening as you allow your heartbeat to fill your ears. This moment doesn't last long as a giant hand comes and snatches the sheets off your puny form, causing you to let out a surprised shriek, quickly jumping up in the bed to look at the culprit. 
There stood your highly intimidating boyfriend towering over the side of your bed with a cocky smirk as he held the sheets in his hands, looking down at you with those mischievous eyes you loved so much. "Feeling sick huh? You look fine to me, livestock." He mocked, eyeing you up and down to make sure he was right and not being a dick. You just sat there staring at him in awe before a pout formed on your face when you processed the old annoying nickname, he used to call you. "Yuma, what did I say about calling me that?! It makes it sound like I'm nothing but a toy to you." You huff, looking away from him as you cross your arms. He says nothing as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and tosses the sheets to the side. Neither of you says anything as you continue to avoid eye contact with him before you feel the mattress sink, indicating that he is moving onto your bed. "Come on, babe I didn't get to see your sexy face at all today." He purred while grabbing your chin, ensuring your gaze landed on him as he smirked, licking his lips.
You watched as he leaned down to place a kiss on your lips but quickly remembered the bite mark on your neck as you lightly pushed him away. "Yuma…not tonight." You muttered, avoiding eye contact again, causing the vampire to frown as his eyes narrowed with your sudden actions. "What the hell is up with you today? First the lying, and now you're avoiding me entirely?" He growled, teeth showing as he clenched his jaw, feeling himself growing angrier at the fact you weren't looking at him. 
You cringe at his tone, your hair standing up as the room fills with a dark atmosphere, causing you to recoil. "N-nothing is wrong…I just-!" Your eyes went wide as Yuma went to move your hair back, something he tended to do when he was giving you his full attention, which you loved; however, this time, all you felt was fear as your body froze. 'He sees it.' You think to yourself, not even having to look in Yuma's direction as a deep growl leaves his throat as he grips your shoulder roughly, pulling your body towards his. You whimper at his rough grip while he goes and forces your chin up, your fearful eyes locking with his enraged ones. "This isn't mine." He growls, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger. 
You don't say anything as he glares down at you, veins starting to pop from his temples and neck. "Whose is it, Y/n?" He hisses while leaning closer to your face, lips only inches apart. You try to look away from him, tears forming as you never liked when Yuma got angry. Of course, he never hit you or anything, but when it came to what was his, you knew his possessive side was nothing to joke about. Yuma watches as you try to avoid him yet again, feeling his blood boil as he pins you down onto the bed, arms above your head, holding them together, one hand watching as you look up at him with fear. He grits his teeth, not liking that look in your eyes as the only emotion he ever wanted to see from those orbs that made his chest flutter was pure love. Yuma knew that he never stood a chance when it came to his other brothers, along with the Sakamaki, when it came to winning Eve, but none of that mattered to him when you entered his life that night you offered your blood to him. "Y/n, I'm not patient, so I'll ask you again." His grip on your wrists tightened as you started to squirm from discomfort. "Who marked what's mine?" His eyes bore into yours, causing a shiver to run through your body. It was like he was staring deep into your soul, driving your heart to race as you started to feel embarrassed from getting excited due to your situation. 
"K-Kou was feeling thirsty, so he-!' You stop speaking when Yuma slams his fist against your bed frame, causing it to crack. "H-Hey! Just because you're angry doesn't mean you can break my stuff!" You yelled up at him, your voice finally returning to normal as you tried to escape his grip. "Tch. Fuck!" Yuma cursed before roughly sinking his fangs into the other side of your neck, causing you to let out a loud whine as you arched your back, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. "O-Ouch, Yuma, that's too hard!" You cried, but he ignored you as he continued to drink your blood, letting out a deep hum as he tasted your flavor on his tongue, his throat growing hot as the warm liquid entered his system. 
Yuma releases your wrists, letting out a deep chuckle as he feels you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, your small, delicate hands caressing the back of his head for comfort, knowing that he tended to calm down whenever you played with his hair. He pulled away from your neck, making sure to lick up any blood that seeped from his marks before sucking on the spot earning a small moan from you as your grip around him tightened. "Y-Yuma, I said not tonight." You whined, trying to wiggle away from him. Yuma grunts as he grabs your hips with his giant hand, giving them a possessive squeeze before pulling away from you. The two of you look into each other's eyes, neither of you saying a word as you catch a glimpse of your blood trickling down his chin. "I'm going to beat his ass." Yuma finally growls while his thumbs carefully rub circles on your hips, his eyes still holding rage, but this time accompanied by love and lust. "You're mine, and they know it." Once again, he sinks his fangs into your flesh, right over the area Kou had bitten before leaving the mansion. 
Yuma hums as his hands start to slide up and down your sides, giving occasional squeezes as he feels your body and blood start heating up, causing the tight feeling in his pants as he pulls away before making more bite marks along your collarbone. "You taste like fucking candy, baby~" He coos between bites listening as you let out small whimpers, your breathing becoming heavy as the pain from his bites soon turns to pleasure while you continue to play with his hair. Yuma loved the taste of your blood; the smell alone drove him crazy. He growls as he pulls away from you, his eyes taking in all the marks showing that you belonged to him and no one else. With a smirk, Yuma positions himself on top of you, his arms on either side of your head as he goes and grinds against you, watching as your already pink cheeks start to turn a deep red as you feel the bulge press against your clothed pussy. 
"Sorry, sugar…" He chuckles while grinding against you again, watching your facial expressions with his lustful eyes as he feels his chest swell with excitement as he watches you squirm and whimper underneath him. His eyes trail back to the bites he left, causing the tent in his pants to twitch as he leans close to your ear, a sadistic smirk on his face. "But seeing you with bites like this makes me so hard~" He growls before nipping at your lobe, causing a slight whine to leave your lips. "Yuma….stop teasing me." You pant out, feeling yourself getting more turned on as the friction becomes too much. Yuma scoffs as his movements halt, causing you to whine at the sudden loss. "Tch, who are you telling me to stop?" He growls while pulling away. You just lay there staring at him with confusion written all over your face as your mind tries to process everything happening due to blood loss. 
Yuma looks down at you, annoyed, as each leg lies on either side of your body. You don't say anything as you watch him trail his fingers across every single mark he made before stopping on the one where Kou's previously lay. "You think after letting my brother sink his fucking fangs into you, I'll do as you please? Fucking slut." He spat while his hands slid down your chest, his rough and giant palms aggressively massaging the mounds of flesh. "Mmh…I didn't let him, Yuma, I promise!" You moan out your mind and body, frustrated with his actions and words. Yuma growls, ripping your top off as he watches your breasts fall with a slight bounce. Your eyes widen as you quickly try to cover up with your arms. Yuma frowns at this as he grabs your arms, roughly pinning them to your sides. "Don't you ever cover this sexy body while with me." His tone is one of warning as he waits for your response. Feeling powerless, you give a weak nod, your body growing hot and embarrassed as he stares at you. 
“Y-Yuma I’m sorry Kou bit me...I'm sorry for being a bad girl." You started to cry, wanting him to smother you in love and praise like he usually did. Yuma takes in your pitiful form and lets out a deep sigh as he goes and licks your tears away, letting out a dissatisfied grunt. "So salty." He mumbled before peppering your face with kisses as he stroked your hair. "Shhh, Sugar…fuck I'm sorry," he murmured, now angry with himself. "Look at me, Y/n," he demands while cupping your cheek. You do as told, giving him a slight pout as he goes and roughly presses his lips to yours, his fangs sinking into the sensitive flesh, causing you to whine while you wrap your arms around him. Yuma hums, satisfied with your response, as he goes and starts to pull your shorts down with his free hand, causing a small gasp to leave your lips as he slowly rubs circles against the wet spot on your panties. 
Yuma pulled away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips as he went and licked the blood smeared against your lips. "You're mine, Y/n….only I can touch you and drink your blood," he growls while licking down your neck. "Yes, baby, I know…I tried hard to stop him, I promise." You cupped his cheeks, causing a soft sigh to leave his lips as he stared down at you with loving eyes. "If I ever catch those scumbags tasting you, I'll devour you, Y/n." He admits, kissing your wrist gently, sinking his fangs into the tender skin, watching your eyes fill with lust. You give him a loving smile as you tilt your head to the side, eyes half-lidded as a small giggle leaves your lips, causing his heart to race. "I understand." You whispered. Yuma looked at you, trying to find any lies within your words. You knew he had eaten his victim's entire body before, so you knew his words were no threat. After finding none, he smirks while pulling your panties down, his fingers quickly slipping inside your drenched pussy, causing your mouth to form an O as you arched your back small moans leaving your swollen lips. 
"Y/n… you're too sweet for me." He whispers as he slides two fingers in and out of your tight walls. "So, fucking wet for me too, baby~ fuck, I can't wait." He laughed as he watched his fingers become coated in your slick. "I haven't seen you all day…fuck baby." He growled before latching onto one of your perked breasts, causing you to arch your back as your hands wrapped around his head, fingers gripping his soft brown locks. He chuckles, reaching his free hand back as he pulls out his hair tie, allowing you to watch his hair fall beautifully, framing his face and causing you to bite your lip. Yuma carefully grinds the perked bud, ensuring his fangs don't pierce the skin. His fingers start to go faster when he feels you clench around them, causing a grunt to leave his lips, knowing you loved when his hair was down. With a small pop, Yuma released your breast, glancing up at you, who held nothing but lust on your face as your lips parted in the cutest way with each moan that escaped your beautiful throat. 
"Y-Yuma, I'm gonna…" You trail off fists, gripping the sheets as you feel the familiar knot forming, your breathing becoming uneven as your grip on his hair tightens. "Fuck right there, Yuma, please!" You cry, feeling his fingers curl against that one spot. Right as you're about to reach your limit, Yuma's fingers slip out, allowing his ears to fill with the most pathetic noise he's ever heard leave your mouth. He smirks, sitting up straight as he goes, and removes his shirt while unbuckling his pants. "Not yet baby… I'm still pretty angry about my brother leaving his mark on you, you know?" He chuckles, watching your eyes trail down to his now-free erection that smacks against his abdomen. "How can I make it clear to them all that you're truly mine?" He mumbles, pretending to be in thought as he teasingly slides the tip of his dick against your wet folds watching as the precum smears on your glistening pussy, causing his dick to twitch. You whine, wiggling your hips to try and get more friction from your cruel vampire boyfriend. 
"Oh…I know how I can show them~" The corners of his lips rise into a sadistic grin as he positions himself at your needy entrance while placing his face inches from yours, ensuring your eyes are locked. "I'm going to fucking ruin you~" He growls before slipping his dick inside with a rough thrust. You throw your head back as Yuma continues to thrust deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he looks down at you, the sadistic grin still plastered across his face as he licks his lips. "That's right, sugar; you're my tasty human slut, right?" He purrs as he goes and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. You watch as Yuma licks up your thigh before sinking his fangs into the tender flesh, his eyes locked with yours. You bite your lip, letting out a deep moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head from all the rough pleasure your body receives. 
Yuma continues to thrust as deep as he can, refusing to leave your addicting pussy for even a second as he watches his dick get covered in your juices. "You're such a filthy girl, Y/n. so fucking filthy just for me!" He growls, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix, causing tears in your eyes from the sudden pain mixed with pleasure. "F-Fuck Yuma too deep!" You cry, trying to push him back but failing as he grips your hand. "That's right, baby. I'm so fucking deep inside you right now. I'm going to ruin this filthy pussy of yours. Going to make it shaped just right for me and only me." Your pussy clenches at his words, the knot from earlier coming back as you arch your back off the bed. "Fuck! Fuckfuck! Yuma, I'm going to cum!" You cry, tears of pleasure falling from your face. Yuma clicks his tongue as he slows down his pace, causing a whine to leave your lips. "Why'd you do that?" You pout, looking up at him with glassy eyes drooling, staining your chin, lips all bruised from his kisses. Yuma smirks as he leans down, giving you a quick kiss as he goes and starts kissing and sucking each mark he left along your neck and collarbone, making sure to provide each of them equal attention. 
"Because Sugar," He starts his free hand sliding up and down your leg, still placed over his shoulder, before giving your thigh a possessive squeeze. "You can't come without my permission, and after I've had plenty to drink." He chuckles before sinking his fangs back into your neck, his thrusts becoming aggressive again as you throw your head back, allowing him better access as his fangs sink deeper into the sensitive spot of your neck, knowing it was one of your favorite places for him to emerge his fangs. Yuma felt himself going feral as the temperature of your blood increased, mixing with the salty flavor of your sweaty skin. He lets out a deep moan, his thrusts starting to become sloppy. "Cum baby…cum with me." He pants, kissing along your jawline. "Show me you're mine." After hearing your boyfriend's possessive words followed by a deep growl, you felt the knot burst, your vision going white as a loud moan echoes throughout your room. 
Yuma smirks as he fills your pussy with his cum making sure none slips out as he looks down at you with the most possessive look you've ever seen him have on that gorgeous face of his. "That's right, baby! Fuck so tasty~ give me more, baby; come on, give it to me!" He laughs, still moving his hips through your orgasm as you let out small, babbled whines, unable to form an actual sentence from how fucked out and dizzy you were due to the blood loss. Yuma looks at you and pouts gently, tapping his finger to your nose before playfully scratching at it, chuckling as he watches you give a tired smile. 'So, fucking cute and sweet.' He thinks the love for you flows through his entire being as he feels himself getting hard inside you. "Hey, baby." He whispers in your ear, giving you a few kisses, to which you hum in response, lazily playing with his hair. 
"Come on; Sugar let's play more~"
236 notes · View notes
electric-cross · 5 months ago
Text
I Saw Your Blog
Pairing: Chris Motionless x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: Smut, dirty talk
Chris and the reader are close friends. Chris sees the readers blog and feels bold enough to make a move. Romance and smut ensue.
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It was almost midnight. You had been texting your friend, Chris, for hours. This went on nearly every day. No matter what the two of you were doing, you always found time to text. Sometimes, you’d even talk on the phone or facetime with one another. He’d become one of your closest friends, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, you’d developed a pretty serious crush on him, as well.
Chris was almost home from a two month tour. You hadn’t seen him in person since before it began, and you were already making plans to hang out once he was home.
“So, I’ll be home on Friday, and we should be able to hang out this weekend,” the text read.
“Okay, awesome. Do you want me to come to your house, or do you wanna come to mine?”
A short silence, then your phone buzzed, once again, “Can we hang out at my place? I’ve just been away for so long, I always look forward to spending time at home.”
“Of course we can. What time do you want me to come over?” you responded.
“Does seven work? We can order in some dinner, if you want.”
“Sounds good to me. What are you in the mood for?”
“Not sure. We can decide on Friday. So what are you up to? Still scrolling through Tumblr? Lol.”
You laughed, “Yeah, you know me. Are you ever gonna use yours again?”
“Not sure. I haven’t used it in like, a decade or something, but you never know. I do like stealthily checking your blog, though. You always have interesting things to say in your tags, lol.”
“Lol, yeah, I can get carried away sometimes, but isn’t that what Tumblr is for?” you answered.
“Haha, yeah, I guess it is. That may be why I left it behind. Some people are a little unhinged.”
You typed, “Yeah, that’s very true, but I’m one of those people, so I have no room to judge, lol.”
“I don’t know if you’re as wild as some people on there, but I’ve seen you allude to some pretty intense things before,” Chris replied.
“What intense things?” you asked.
“Well, sometimes you seem to be yearning in the tags of romantic and sexual posts, so I definitely think I’ve learned some things about you, lol.”
You tensed a bit. You knew that Chris could see those posts, but you were unsure if he knew that it was always him that you were talking about. A part of you wished that he did, so maybe he would make a move on you, but at the same time, you were afraid he’d figure it out and be disgusted by it. You weren’t sure how Chris felt about you, and you were too shy and nervous to ask.
“Oh yeah, well, we all crave it, right? I guess I’m no different than anyone else.” you tried to respond casually.
“That’s very true. If I had a private Tumblr, I’d probably post the same kinds of things that you do,” he texted back.
Feeling a bit brave, you decided to probe further, “Oh? Got your eye on someone that you wanna pine for in the tags? Lol.”
“Lol, definitely.”
Your heart sank. For some reason, your first instinct was to assume that he was talking about someone else and now you were getting confirmation of that. Your crush would go nowhere. You’d been relegated to friend and friend only. However, after that brief moment of sadness, a voice in your head said, “Well, what if it’s me? Could it be? I want to find out, but what if I make a move and then he actually was talking about someone else? Shit. Gotta tread lightly.”
“Oh, wow. I had no idea. Who is she?” you replied cavalierly.
“Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. ;)”
“Haha, well, I think I can fend for myself, so spill! Unless you just don’t want to. It’s really none of my business, but I am curious.”
Suddenly your phone lit up. Chris was calling you. You felt your heart skip a beat, once again. You pushed the buttons and put the phone up to your ear.
“Hey,” you greeted him, “Did you get tired of texting or something?”
He laughed, “No, it’s just that I thought that this conversation would go better if we were actually talking. Plus, I’m finally alone now, so I don’t have any distractions or eavesdroppers.”
“Oh, okay. That makes sense. So what’s up?”
“Well, it’s about the conversation we were just having,” he answered.
“I kinda figured,” you laughed, “What did you want to tell me?”
For a moment, there was silence on the other end, “Chris?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. I’m just trying to think of how to put this.”
“Well, I’m sure any way you put it will be fine, so you may as well just be straight forward.”
“Okay…” he began, sounding nervous, “Well, I do like somebody. It’s just that, I don’t know how this girl feels about me, especially when I know for a fact that she’s already interested in someone.”
You paused, “Oh, well, um, I guess you should just tell her. Maybe she’d be interested. If not, I guess the worst she can say is no, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m really good friends with this girl, and I’d hate to make things weird between us. I guess I’m just debating whether or not it’s worth it to go for it,” he said.
You scoured your brain trying to think of all the single women that you knew Chris was close with. You thought of a couple that you weren’t sure about, but your mind still wasn’t willing to entertain the idea that you could be the girl that he was talking about.
You gathered some courage and spoke into the phone, “Chris, you should just tell her. You never know if it’ll make things weird, or if you can still be friends, and plus, you could end up with a girlfriend. You never know.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re right. It’s just hard, you know?”
“Trust me, I know. That’s why I pine on Tumblr, instead of going on dates,” you laughed.
He laughed in return, “So you get where I’m coming from.”
“Totally. So who is it? Maybe I can help.”
There was another moment of silence over the phone before he finally answered, “Fuck it. Might as well just go for it… It’s you.”
You felt your heart freeze, once again, rendering you speechless. After a few moments of silence, you heard Chris say your name, wondering if you were still on the line.
“Yeah?” you replied sheepishly.
“Did you hear what I said?” he asked.
“Yeah… I did. I’m just making sure that I heard you correctly.”
“So what do you think?” he asked, “Is it gonna make things weird between us, or is there any possible chance that you might feel the same way?”
You paused again, “Chris, who do you think I was talking about in all those tags on my blog?”
“Was it me?” he asked.
You smiled, “Yes, it was you.”
“Seriously?” you could hear the joy in his voice, “You’re into me?”
You laughed, “Yes, I am. I have been for awhile now. I was just too chicken to say anything.”
He sighed, “I know what you mean. I’ve been wanting to tell you how I felt for awhile, too. I just had myself convinced that you were talking about someone else and that I’d only be wasting my time and making a fool of myself if I were to tell you.”
“I get that. I never had any inclination that you liked me, so I kept my mouth shut for pretty much the same reasons.”
There was another pause before Chris spoke, “So, what does this mean? Do you wanna go out sometime?”
“Yeah, I do. What about Friday? Can that be our first official date?”
“Yeah, I’d love that. Do you wanna go out somewhere, or did you still want to just hang out at my house?”
“We can hang out at your house. It’s cozier. Maybe if it goes well, we can have a second date at a restaurant or something.”
“Okay, good. I can’t wait to see you.”
You smiled again, “I can’t wait to see you, either. Just two days, though. I think we can make it until then.”
He laughed, “Yeah, we can make it, but don’t think I won’t still be texting you non stop until then.”
You laughed with him, “Oh, I expected that. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Okay, good, and I’ll be checking your blog too to see what else you have to say about me until then.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll see plenty. I’ll try to keep it PG though.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I like the more salacious things you post.”
“Oh, really? Well, then I guess I’ll have to post as many things about you as I can.”
“I’d love that. I’ll check in on it tomorrow, but for now, I really need to get some sleep. The bus heads out really early tomorrow so I gotta try to get a few hours in, but I hope you post some things about me tonight that I can read tomorrow.”
“Absolutely,” you began, “Get some sleep, and I’ll make sure you have plenty of things to read tomorrow. I’ll talk to you soon, Chris. Good night.”
“Alright, talk to you tomorrow. Good night,” he responded before you both hung up.
You sat in your bed, grinning from ear to ear. You couldn’t believe it. This was actually happening. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep for hours, so you decided to kill time the way you knew Chris would appreciate. You opened the Tumblr app, and began blogging away, posting things in the tags that you knew only Chris would know was for him.
After an hour or so of carefully curating posts for your new romantic partner, you decided to flip off the lights and try to get some sleep. As you had predicted, it was proving to be most difficult. Your mind wouldn’t stop racing. It was on a constant loop of replaying the conversation in your head, along with daydreaming about what was to come on Friday. Eventually, slumber took over, and you managed to get a few hours of rest.
The next morning, you awoke to find a missed text from Chris, “Hey, so I’m on the bus, and I’ve been killing the last couple of hours just scrolling through your blog and picking up on all the things that were about me. I gotta say, I’m extremely flattered, and it makes me desperate to see you. Especially after last night. ;) I hope you slept well, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
You grinned at your phone, wasting no time in replying, “I just woke up. I gotta get ready for work, but I just wanted to let you know that I got your text and I’m glad you’ve been having fun with my blog, lol. I’ll talk to you later today, alright? I hope you have a good day. :)”
“Okay, baby, text me when you get off work. I hope you have a good day too. <3”
Your heart fluttered. He called you baby. You couldn’t believe that this was all happening so fast. Not that you were complaining, however. Your body went into auto pilot as you prepared yourself for the day. You knew your mind would be preoccupied all day. You weren’t sure exactly how much work was going to be accomplished, but you weren’t too concerned. 
After what felt like an eternity, the work day was finally over. You made your way home, got yourself a drink, and made yourself comfortable on the couch, turning the TV on for background noise as you excitedly picked up your phone and texted Chris.
“Hey, work is finally over. Can you talk now?”
You waited a few minutes before getting a reply, “Hey. Sorry, kind of busy getting ready for the show tonight. Can I call you when we’re done?”
“Of course. I’ll be around.”
“Okay, great. Sorry sweetheart, it’s gonna be a few hours, but I can’t wait to talk to you again.”
  You smiled, “Take your time. I’ll be just as excited to talk to you later.”
You sat your phone down and watched the news, scrolling through Tumblr, adding a few more posts for Chris’ benefit. Eventually, you made, ate, and cleaned up dinner. Then, spent the rest of the evening watching interviews of Chris on youtube. You loved the way he spoke. He was such an eloquent and articulate speaker. You could watch videos of him all night, which you had on more than one occasion.
Finally, your phone lit up. Chris was calling you.
“Hey,” you greeted him, “How was the show?”
“It was awesome. I think we did pretty well for our last show of this run. What are you up to?”
“Oh, just hanging out at home, watching youtube, nothing too exciting.”
“Oh, yeah? I wish I was there with you, but hey, at least I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your heart started racing, “I know. I’m so excited to see you. It feels like it’s been forever.”
“It really does. Especially after the conversation we had last night. It feels like time is moving at a snail’s pace.”
You chuckled, “Tell me about it. Less than twenty four hours until I see you, and it still feels like it’s taking a lifetime.”
Chris laughed with you, “I know, but at least I get to talk to you now.”
“Well, I can’t talk too long, I do have work in the morning, you know.”
“That’s true. I won’t keep you too long. I just really wanted to talk to you.”
“I really wanted to talk to you, too. Especially after you called me baby in that text you sent me this morning.”
He laughed again, “Oh, yeah. Is that okay? Or is it too soon for that?”
“I don’t mind at all. It made me pretty happy. I know we haven’t even had our first date yet, but I have a feeling this is heading to the point that you’d be calling me baby anyway.”
“Yeah? You think so?” he asked.
“Yeah, I do. Do I get to start calling you baby now, too?”
“Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want.”
You grinned, “Good to know. Now tell me about the show.”
You spent the next hour or so asking Chris about the concert and making plans for what to eat and what to do the following night. Eventually, you couldn’t hide your yawns any longer.
“Getting sleepy, baby?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re not too. You’ve been up longer than I have and you put on a show. Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Eh, I’m a little tired, but nothing too bad. I think I’m still running on adrenaline from the show and from talking to you. I’ll probably crash soon, though.”
“Well, make it sooner rather than later, I want you well rested for tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah? Am I gonna need a lot of energy?” you could hear the playfulness in his tone.
You laughed, once again, “Well, I don’t know about that, but you never know. Either way, I don’t want you half asleep on our date.”
“You make a good point. Maybe we should both get some sleep then.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay. Night, baby,” he said sweetly.
“Good night, baby,” you responded in a similar tone.
You hung up the phone, turned off the TV and headed for bed.
The next morning, you awoke and immediately picked up your phone. You didn’t have any missed texts. Chris must have still been asleep. So, you thought you’d beat him to the punch this time.
“Good morning, sweetheart. I hope you slept well. Have a safe trip home, and I’ll see you tonight! <3”
You sat your phone down and got ready for the last day of the work week. A couple of hours into work, your phone buzzed in your purse. It was Chris.
“Hey baby, I slept great. I hope you did too. I can’t wait to see you tonight. Have a good day at work! <3”
You smiled, placing your phone back into your purse and getting back to the task at hand. A few more hours passed and you received another text from Chris letting you know that he had made it home. You replied with a quick acknowledgement and got back to work. The day dragged on at an excruciatingly slow pace, however. You thought you’d never be off, when finally, the clock struck five. It was finally time to leave.
You rushed out to your car and drove home. You ran through the house to your bedroom and picked up the outfit that you had set aside for the occasion. You freshened up and did your hair and makeup, pleased with the result, especially in combination with the outfit you had changed into. You sprayed on some perfume and took one last look in the mirror. This was the best you’d looked in awhile, and you were pretty pleased with the outcome.
You glanced at the time, and realized it was time to be heading out. It wasn’t a particularly long drive to Chris’, you did live in the same town, after all, but you still didn’t want to be late. You stuffed your phone into your purse and grabbed the keys hanging on a hook near the front door and made your way out to your car. You decided to listen to some Motionless during your drive, just to amp yourself up even more.
After about fifteen minutes, you were finally pulling up to Chris’ house. You felt your heart skipping and you had a lump in your throat. To say you were nervous was an understatement, but that didn’t deter you one bit. You made your way to the front door and rang the bell, waiting for him to answer. After a few moments, the door swung open and you were greeted by the man you were expecting to see.
“Hey!” he said before pulling you into a hug, “You’re right on time.”
You pulled back, “Yep. We said seven so I made sure to be ready.”
“Well come on in,” he said, stepping to the side to allow you entrance.
You entered the residence that you had been in many times before, taking your shoes off by the door. You made your way into the living room and took a seat on the couch, Chris following close behind.
“So I already ordered the food, but can I get you something to drink?” he asked.
“Sure, I’ll take some water.”
“Be right back,” he replied.
You looked around the living room, taking in the unique touches that Chris had decorated his home with. Drawing in a deep breath, you steadied yourself for what was to come this evening. Before you knew it, Chris had returned with two bottles of water and took a seat next to you, handing you your drink.
“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip.
“No problem. So how was work?”
“Ugh, boring. I was too focused on coming here tonight.”
Chris laughed, “Yeah, I was practically counting the minutes all day. I’m so glad you’re here.”
You smiled at him, “So am I.”
The two of you sat, smiling sheepishly at one another.
“So, this is our first date…” he said, breaking the silence.
“It is. I hope it’s not our last one,” you responded.
“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be.”
“Good,” you said, smiling again.
The two of you sat in close proximity, gazing at one another. You could feel the electricity in the air as the two of you began to close the gap. Your face was mere inches away from his, when suddenly, the doorbell rang.
“Oh, the food’s here. Damn, that was fast,” Chris said, getting up to answer the door.
You took the moment to collect yourself. You had been so close to finally kissing him. You could almost curse the delivery person at the door. After a moment, Chris returned carrying bags of food.
“Ready to eat?” he asked.
“Actually yeah, I had to skip lunch today so I could definitely eat.”
He took his seat next to you once more and began assembling the contents on the coffee table, “Why’d you have to skip lunch?”
“Oh, just too busy with work stuff. It happens sometimes.”
“Gotcha. Well, I hope you like what I ordered. It’s the same thing we got the last time you were here.”
“Awesome,” you replied while gathering up your food.
The two of you ate and chatted about Chris’ tour and your work and just life in general. Nothing too serious. Even still, you were enjoying yourself immensely.
After you finished eating, Chris cleaned up the remnants and handed you the remote, “Here, pick a movie.”
“What do you feel like watching?” you asked.
“Whatever you want. Maybe something horror?”
“Sounds good to me.”
You scrolled through the endless streaming services as Chris finished cleaning up dinner. You finally landed on Trick ‘R Treat, a movie you knew Chris loved.
He came back into the living room taking his seat next to you, “Trick ‘R Treat, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever seen this one.”
You laughed, “Oh yeah, that’s why I picked it. I wanted you to see something new.”
He laughed with you, “It’s a good choice. We don’t have to watch it just because you know that I like it, though.”
“Hey, I like it too. Plus, it would probably be advantageous to pick something we’ve already seen so we can still talk and not miss anything.”
“You make a good point,” he said, wrapping an arm around you and settling in for the movie.
You nuzzled into his side and focused your attention on the movie beginning in front of you. The movie played for at least half an hour without a word from either of you. You were desperate to try and kiss him again. You contemplated making the first move for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, you worked up the nerve to slide away just enough so that you could face him. His head turned and he caught your gaze.
You were exceedingly nervous, so you simply smiled shyly at him. He returned your grin and before you knew it, he was placing a hand softly on the side of your face. You felt as though you could melt beneath his touch. Your brain had no time to register what was happening as Chris leaned down slowly into you, caressing your lips with his in your very first kiss.
You pressed your lips into his, savoring the softness of his lips. Your mouths worked in unison, dancing with one another. You could have kissed him all night. After a few minutes of light kissing, you felt Chris’ tongue sweep across your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. You gladly parted your mouth and met his tongue with yours. Your tongues lapping against one another as the kiss grew in intensity. It wasn’t long before Chris had his hands tangled in your hair.
Feeling bold, you placed a hand on his thigh as you continued kissing. Chris gently nipped and sucked your bottom lip giving you all the encouragement you needed to slide your hand up his thigh until you were lightly gripping his cock over his pants. He moaned softly into your mouth as one of his hands left your hair to press your hand even more firmly into his crotch. He moved your hand so that you were rubbing his cock through the material. You could feel him growing hard beneath you.
Soon, you were taking the lead and rubbing him with no assistance. Chris’ hand now on your waist, working its way under the hem of your shirt. He kissed you with fervor as his hand slid upward to caress your breast over your bra. You barely had a chance to take in the sensation before Chris was pulling his hand and lips away from you.
“Come on,” he said standing up and pulling you with him until you were cradled in his arms, “I want the first time I fuck you to be in my bed.”
You felt the blood rush through your system. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’d dreamt about it. You’d blogged discreetly about it, and you knew he knew that you had been waiting for this.
Chris carried you into his room and laid you down on his bed, the softness of his pillow catching your head. He wasted no time towering over you and kissing you vigorously. His hands roamed up and down your body as his mouth moved with yours. You pulled at his shirt until he sat back on his knees and removed the article of clothing. You stared at his heavily tattooed body, feeling lust begin to wash over you. You couldn’t get your clothes off fast enough.
Chris tore your shirt off and made haste with your jeans. You didn’t give him a chance to start with your underwear as you were too busy undoing his pants and pulling them down, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. He could see the hungry look in your eye, and placed his thumbs under the waistband or his underwear and pulled them down his legs, freeing his cock. Your eyes grew wide as you watched him bounce out of the material. You couldn’t stop staring. You couldn’t even hide it, and you didn’t care. 
Chris didn’t seem to mind either, as he gave a slight chuckle and asked, “Like what you see?”
Your eyes still didn’t leave his cock, “Love it,” you replied absently.
He laughed again, “Okay, well, now it’s my turn to see you.”
With that, he was pulling your panties off, leaving you in just your bra, which didn’t stay on much longer, either. Chris pulled you forward and busied his hands with unclasping the material at your back and then pulling the garment off of you, leaving you both completely naked.
“Fuck…” he said, his eyes roaming your body.
You thought he was in some sort of trance momentarily and you began to move toward him, finally feeling bold enough to make the next move. However, your plans were thwarted when Chris wrapped a hand around your throat and pushed you onto your back.
“I’ve seen the things you post about, baby. I know what you want me to do to you.”
Your cheeks flushed hot, and you almost felt embarrassed. You bit your lip and broke eye contact.
“No, don’t get shy on me now. I know what kind of girl you really are, what you want from me. Now take it,” he said, applying more pressure around your throat.
You felt your pussy clench at his words. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted someone this badly. You subconsciously spread your legs.
Chris noticed your motions, “See? That’s my good girl. Spread your legs nice and wide for me.”
You fought back a small moan as Chris towered over you once again, his body pressed against yours as he kissed you roughly, his hand tightening even more around your throat. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh. You wanted it. Wanted him.
You wrapped your legs around his waist as if begging him to fuck you. He took the hint and pulled away from you. You took in a deep breath as his hand left your throat to open the drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a condom and immediately tore the package open. You watched hungrily as he slid the condom onto his cock.
He adjusted himself on top of you once more, “Normally, I’d take my time with you baby, and I promise I will next time, but I need you too fucking badly right now.”
You merely nodded in response as you felt him lining himself up with your entrance. Chris took one last look in your eyes, pressing his forehead against yours before he slowly slid himself inside. You let out a small gasp as you felt his entire girth stretching you open. Your eyelids fluttered as you composed yourself.
Chris seemed to need a second to adjust, as well. After a moment, he began to rock back and forth inside of you before kissing you again as he continued. You kissed back feverishly, and wrapped your legs around him once more. He wrapped one arm beneath the small of your back and pulled you slightly upward into him. The two of you moaned into each other’s mouths at the new angle. He was still moving slowly, but he was hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made your toes curl.
It wasn’t long after that he pulled himself from your lips and wrapped his free hand around your throat again, cutting off slight circulation. He stared intently into your eyes, watching for any slight change. He began bucking his hips more forcefully, filling the room with slapping sounds. You could hear how wet your pussy was getting. You let out a slightly louder moan.
“Is this what you wanted, baby?” he asked, still fucking you.
“Mmm, yes.”
“Yeah? You wanted me to fuck you, pretty girl?”
You arched your back as you felt Chris’ grip on your throat tighten, “Yes. Wanted you to fuck me so bad…”
Chris moaned and quickened his pace, “I know, baby. I know exactly what you want from me.”
You moaned louder as Chris grabbed at your hip and throat and practically slammed you into him. He was so much bigger than you. You thought he might break you, and you didn’t care in the slightest.
“Mmm. Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
“Fuck yes…” you responded wantonly.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“You feel so fucking good, Chris. Fuck��”
Chris moaned louder, “That’s my good girl. That’s my good fucking girl…”
His grip on your throat tightened until you were sure he would leave marks. Good. You wanted the reminder that you were now his. The thought spurred your lust even more until you were writhing and moaning beneath him, arching your back into him and trying to soak up as much of him as you could.
“Oh, fuck. You feel so fucking good, baby. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…” he moaned.
He picked up the pace and gripped you harder. You could feel yourself getting close.
“Oh my god, Chris. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” you whined.
“Yeah? Is my good girl gonna cum for me? You wanna fucking cum, sweetheart?”
You closed your eyes, “Oh, fuck, yes!”
You felt Chris’ lips crash onto yours, kissing you hungrily, swallowing your moans. He never stopped fucking you. Your pussy felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. You felt your cunt clamp down on his cock as he bit your lip before trailing over to whisper in your ear.
“Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you.”
“Oh! Fuck! Mmm…” you began cumming.
Chris moaned into your ear, causing you to cum even harder, “Oh fuck, that’s my girl. That’s my good fucking girl…”
You were just starting to come down from your orgasm as you heard Chris hit his, “Fuck! Ohhh… Shit.”
Your legs were trembling around his waist and your hands had fallen to your sides. Your whole body felt like jello and you weren’t sure if you were even able to move at this point. You felt Chris slow to a stop and you could hear his shallow, jagged breath by your ear. After a moment, he let go of your neck and placed a kiss where the bruises were beginning to form.
Eventually, Chris pulled himself out of you and removed the condom, tying it up and throwing it away in a trash can he had near the bedside table. He moved next to you and laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, collecting himself and steadying his breathing.
“Fuck. That was well worth the wait,” he said, breaking the silence.
You smiled at him, “I think so too.”
Chris smiled back, “So, does this mean you're my girlfriend now, or do you want a few more dates first?”
“Do you want me to be your girlfriend now?” you inquired.
“Yes. Very much so,” he laughed.
You giggled, “Okay, then I’m your girlfriend.”
Chris smiled widely, “Good.”
Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, once more. A lighter, sweeter kiss this time, but passionate, just the same. You kissed for a few moments more before Chris pulled back, turning to lay on his side, and pulled you flush against him, spooning you.
You lay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company and processing all that had just transpired when Chris said, “I’m so glad I stalked your blog.”
You laughed, “Give you some ideas, did it?”
“Definitely. Oh, and don’t worry. I know there was a lot that I didn’t get to this time, but I promise I’ll cross everything off your list very, very soon.”
You laughed once more, “Okay, good. I promise to learn yours too and do them for you as well.”
He returned your laugh, “Maybe I should start using my blog again so you can learn about my kinks too.”
“No way,” you began, still laughing, “If you’re gonna copy me, at least make a private blog that only I know about. We don’t need your fans knowing about the slutty things we do.”
“Okay, I promise it’ll be private, but it’s gonna be filthy.”
“I think I can handle it,” you replied.
“Oh, I’m sure you can if yours is any indication of how nasty you are, sweetheart.”
You giggled again, “What can I say, I know what I want.”
“Yeah, so do I, and I plan on showing you,” he said as he rubbed his hand up and down your hip.
You ground your ass against his cock, daring him to get hard again, “Can’t wait, baby.”
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thecoolerliauditore · 3 months ago
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sorry for the meta fandom discourse post but is it just me or does it sometimes feel like alot of people in the fandom really, really hate everyone else in the fandom. maybe I'm just more observant now but it feels like a relatively recent thing.
I don't like naming names in these but it's really hard to not to so forgive me but it seems like it started when people got more comfortable publicly saying they didnt like the art1mator smp people, then more and more anons on confession blogs would start very unsubtly complaining about specific fan artists they dislike (a little before this point there was a lot of general complaining about twinks or anime styles or whatever but never targetted). There's something here about the dehumanization of "big artists" too but I'm probably not eloquent enough to put it into words.
I'm a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to this because I do this too (although I do try to clarify each time I do that I respect the alternative as well) but I've seen so many posts in the scott tag specifically that are framed around proving other interpretations "wrong" than sharing your own. It used to be "scott is loyal and kind" and now it's "despite what People say, scott is loyal and kind". I don't check other tags closely enough to judge whether this is just the obligatory scott having more discourse than everyone else effect or if this is a wider spread thing but it's definitely something I've noticed. There's also the occasional post in there that's just like "some people are SO WRONG about scott" with no elaboration whatsoever?
And now with the Pearl Discourse TM it feels as though there's a lot of assuming the worst. This is what I was alluding to with the Gem SL discourse thing FYI like Gem disabled comments and all of a sudden everyone was preaching to the choir about being nicer to Gem, despite the fact that people on here LOVED Gem. There were big ass posts that told off people who called her character evil or for mentioning the Grian 1v3 instead of idk. The people in her comments section who were directly attacking her and made her disable them in the first place. It's so fucking wild to me still how many of my followers are Gem fans since I was piss scared to talk about her at all when SL ended.
Like I've seen people claim the fandom is awful and doesn't deserve this series which is like??? No?????? The start of WL brought about a shit ton of awesome fanart/fic??? All of the people I know are excited and chatting about it?????
Like don't get me wrong there are people in the fandom I personally dislike (and people who I've gotten the impression in the past who dislike me) but that's like. 1 or 2 guys compared to a shit ton of people who are awesome.
Maybe if we just idk. Talked to eachother more like people do instead of assuming someone is the worst because they shared an opinion you don't like or draw in a specific art style the fandom wouldn't seem So Bad.
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a brief retrospective on Louis and Violet as love interests, Clementine's bisexuality, and the fandom's continued insistence on fighting over this
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In December of 2019, I made a series of posts called "An Explanation of Why Louis and Violet are Both Excellent Love Interests" that explored my feelings on the topic after seeing a lot of fighting in the fandom over who's better; who is the "right" choice for Clementine?
The answer is simple: there isn't an objectively correct choice.
I compared Louis and Violet to the romantic options in other games, including Life is Strange, Persona 4, King's Quest 2015, and Catherine, as well as TWDG: A New Frontier. I wanted to show how much better TFS handled the romance versus those games, why we should be grateful for what we got since it could've been a lot worse, and how the fighting over who's "right" was a waste of time.
I suppose it's only fitting that I'd be driven to revisit this topic after seeing fans continue to argue amongst themselves over this years later in the trenches of a weakening fandom.
Just when I think I'm done writing pieces for TWDG, some random redditor writes an essay about how violentine only exists for "woke points" that grabs me by the throat and throws me down. Then another will insist that clouis is abusive since Louis voted against them in ep2 in their own essay and I'm dragged back here, kicking and screaming.
While I think my previous Excellent Love Interests posts about this are on the juvenile side, I do still agree with my main point: Louis and Violet are excellent characters who make for compelling love interests. The fact that we got them both, that we were given the choice, and that they're as well done as they are, is something I don't think we appreciate enough. Hell, I don't think we even appreciate that Clementine's a canonically bisexual protagonist as much as we should.
We're too busy trying to one up each other with, "Well, actually, clouis is superior because of this and this," and "no, you're wrong, violentine is actually better because of this and this," and sometimes a wild non-shipper will appear out of nowhere to slap down an, "actually, you both suck, singletine is better."
It's sad that this is what fandom inevitably defaults to, always. It stops being about the game we love, the thing that brought us here, and it becomes a pissing match.
Doesn't matter what fandom it is; we end up projecting too much of ourselves onto fictional characters, investing too much of our time into ship culture, hyper-fixating until it becomes part of us... and let's be real, sometimes it's in unhealthy ways.
So, when someone else attacks the things we're attached to, it becomes a personal attack... and when we feel threatened, we become defensive and retaliate... and sometimes, we take it too far and target others out of insecurity, to feel validated, even if it means going after someone who is just minding their own business.
Also, I think some people are just assholes who want to piss on everyone.
Because of this, I would like to discuss Louis and Violet as romanceable characters, why they're both important to TFS no matter who you choose, why Clementine being a bisexual protagonist matters, and the fandom's continued insistence on fighting over this.
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For many personal reasons, I've always been trepid about being open with my sexuality as a bi woman. I've done a lot of reflection this year on why that is; internalized misogyny, the biphobia that lingers in the queer community, insecurities, regrets, how I tend to be harsher on female characters over male characters, why it took me so long to not feel afraid of engaging with queer media, admitting I was wrong about so many things I've said in the past, how it's all affected my writing, etc.
When TFS released and I made this blog, I had already accepted my bisexuality but was in no way public about it, not online or in my personal life. But playing the first two episode of TFS, being presented with both Louis and Violet as potential romantic partners struck something inside of me.
Yes, I picked Louis; we all know I'm a major clouis shipper at this point, and if you're new here, then now you know, too.
But it's the fact that Violet's also an option, that with just a few different button presses, Clementine could've fallen for her just as she did with Louis; that there's evidence in game that she shows interested in both of them no matter your choices; that no one in-game judges Clementine for who she chooses to be with... that meant something to me in a way that it hadn't before.
TFS wasn't the first game I played with a bi protagonist; in Excellent Love Interests, I compared Louis and Violet to Life is Strange's Chloe and Warren. I have a lot of mixed feelings about the first LiS game overall, but I've been quite open about my dislike of Chloe and indifference to Warren.
Chloe, to me, is everything I dislike in a love interest, predominately in wlw. 2023 was the year of "CJ dives into sapphic literature and it's a 50/50 chance of striking gold or gettin' hella eaten by disappointment, shaka brah." Meaning I've read a lot of wlw novels, and all the ones I hated featured a Chloe clone, sometimes done even worse.
And Warren? I'll be real honest with you- I couldn't even remember what his name was when I started writing this. I had to go back and check. That tells you what I think of him, no?
So, LiS didn't strike me the same way. Sure, I knew Max was a bi protagonist and that's great, but the choices weren't appealing to me. This was when I was a teenager still somewhat in denial of my sexuality, which most definitely contributed to me being uncomfortable when faced with a wlw relationship portrayed in-game, especially when I found myself wishing Kate was an option for Max... but y'know, "shhhhhhh if I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist."
When the first episode of TFS released, I was older, I was no longer in a not-so-great relationship, and had better accepted who I am. The first episode does a great job of introducing you to Louis and Violet, and giving you the opportunity to spend more time with the one you're interested in.
I actually really liked them both when ep1 dropped, but I've always had a preference for a character who is kind, deflects with humor, and tends to be picked on by the rest of the cast... so it was inevitable that I'd stick with Louis. Though I won't discredit Violet in ep1, or the rest of the game, just because I didn't choose her in the end.
That's one of the best things about Louis and Violet as options; they're opposites, yet alike in many ways. They have their appeals and charms. They're flawed. It never feels like a "love triangle" situation where they're fighting over Clementine. Louis and Violet are friends who have known each other from before the walkers came. It's refreshing to have two characters who are interested in the same person but don't go for each other's throats over it. When they do argue over her, it's more to do with AJ shooting Marlon and whether it's safe for the group to let them stay.
I can't fault anyone who struggled to pick between them. When someone talks about who they picked and why, it's all about the player's preferences.
It's your choice to make, and no matter what, you're not wrong for it.
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This season concludes Clementine's story, regardless of what some comics will say. It's the last fight. It's her happy ending. She and AJ finally found a home, a family.
I've played these games since S1 came out in 2012, over ten years ago. Clementine holds a special place in my heart. Not only did this important character have a great final season [despite Telltale shutting down and TFS nearly being left incomplete, remember] but she's also revealed to be canonically bisexual.
They didn't release the whole season and then as an afterthought be like, "oh yeah btw she's bi, she has oneline of flirty dialogue with this character so see? we did good rep."
Yeah, I'm side eyeing you, ANF.
They didn't try to hide it. They presented it to the player unapologetically and made a conscious decision to exclude anything biphobic from other characters... which meant a lot to me.
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Biphobia is real and it's not that I don't want it explored well in media, but there's something appealing and safe about a game with a bisexual main character who isn't questioned about it negatively; "You're bi? Doesn't that mean you cheat on all your partners?"
To give a compliment to Life is Strange: True Colors, I had a similar feeling in that game, too. Alex is openly bi, she can date either Steph or Ryan and no one questions the "legitimacy" of her bisexuality.
Because that's always a thing on top of everything else, y'know? "You're a bad bi unless you're with the 'gayer option.'" "Bisexuality isn't real, you're just confused." "I don't date girls who've been tainted by a man." "Oh, you're into girls? How about a threesome?"
Violet never turns her nose up at Clementine for admitting she had a crush on Gabe. Louis isn't ever gross about Clementine and Violet getting close. It speaks volumes for their characters and how accepting they, and everyone else at Ericson, are of Clementine no matter who she chooses, if anyone.
That acceptance, even if it's just in a game, means more than words can express to queer players who don't feel that acceptance in their daily lives.
Which means it hurts all the more when it comes to the fandom's own display of biphobia; "You're bi but ship clouis? Why ship something hetero when violentine is right there?" "Well, MY Clementine's straight because she picked Louis! Stop forcing the gay onto MY Clementine!"
Clementine's important to all of us. Why do you think so many people are pissed about the comics to the point of spewing disgusting bile toward Tillie Walden? I've said my piece on that plenty times before, so allow me to say it on this; the representation of bisexuality in Clementine is beautifully woven through TFS in ways that are subtle yet impactful, and I thank TFS for giving that to us.
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One argument I've come across recently against Clementine's bisexuality, and violentine in general: "blegh they only included violentine/made Clem bi for lgbt points." y'know... as if that's a bad thing.
It bothers me because A. saying "I'm not homophobic *but*-" and then making a homophobic argument against violentine while insisting that Clementine's bisexuality came out of nowhere and was forced is icky, and B. I know I've said similar things about violentine in the past. I know I used to argue that violentine's underdeveloped, yet the devs pushed it to the forefront over clouis to pat themselves on the back for doing representation, etc.
I don't believe that anymore; remember when I brought up people making arguments out of insecurity? Yeah, that and being lowkey bitter that violentine got more dev attention than clouis sometimes even though like... that doesn't matter? It literally doesn't matter. That's what I meant when I said you get so invested that certain things feel like a personal attack when they're not.
Some of the developers of TFS are queer people. They probably wanted a bi protagonist with a wlw option because that representation is important to them and they had the opportunity to express it, not because they were trying to get "points" with anyone. Go listen to the commentaries for TFS; they talk about violentine with nothing but positivity, and they didn't do that to shade Louis or clouis shippers. And if you do think they did it shade fans, then maybe stop and consider why; do you actually believe that or are you annoyed that your fave wasn't the center of attention?
On the flip side, I also want to say that gloating and insisting that violentine is the better/right choice because of these things is also unpleasant and untrue. It sucks when it feels like things are biased against you and it sucks even more when that bias is weaponized by other fans to beat you down.
But honestly? If you need this much validation on your opinions about fictional characters, maybe you should stop to think about why that is and what it says about you, yeah?
Truly, this whole clouis versus violentine thing is irritating at best, vile at worse. Thankfully it doesn't happen as much on tumblr given the state of the fandom, and everyone's at least agreed that no matter their feelings toward each other, clemricca is worse. So, that's something, I guess.
I think the best way I can put this is you don't get to dictate what other people think and feel. Being passionate is great until it becomes an excuse to be an asshole. Not everyone is going to agree with you and you need to put your big kid pants on and accept that.
I'm under no impression that the fighting will ever stop, even when this fandom is dried up with only bones and memories haunting its desert... but at the very least, I can point some of it out and ask that we do better than this.
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The focus gets lost in the fighting, and that focus is Louis and Violet themselves. Y'know, the two this retrospective's about.
Remember when I talked about Persona 4 in Excellent Love Interests and how much it sucks when the person you want to romance isn't actually an option--?
Hmm? What's that? Ah, yes, right- @pi-creates insists I add that TFS and Persona 4 actually are the same because Aasim wasn't an option and they're still bitter about that... but this isn't about Aasim, that's a topic for another day. Sorry Pi, but thanks for the screenshots used in this retrospective👍
Anyway, TFS gave us two excellent choices, and it would've been worse off had it only given us one of them, or none at all.
Louis wears charisma as a mask and uses humor as a shield to deflect. Violet, for as quiet and standoffish as she first appears, has a heart she's both eager and reluctant to share.
Louis is warm curtains of sunlight seeping through the murmuring woods of green leaves and little song birds. A heart carved into the rustic wood of an out-of-tune piano. Music echoing in the early morning hallways.
Violet is the glow of a full moon that illuminates still waters so the stars can dance in its reflection. Paint smeared over finger tips to offer a piece of herself meant to be worn. Constellations of stars named in secret.
They're both lonely people, often misunderstood by the others at Ericson, and sometimes by each other. They want to be known. They want to be seen.
But fear is a powerful wall to overcome.
And that's the beauty of choice. You get the impression of knowing them in the beginning, but it rarely breaks surface tension; Louis is nice and funny but undependable, Violet's rude and reserved and a little awkward. Neither are outspoken about any issues around Ericson, content to keep their heads down.
Clementine has to make the effort to know them, and the game establishes this by asking you an unassuming question: do you want to go hunting with Louis or fishing with Violet?
Clementine either makes an effort to understand Violet's feelings toward Brody and why she's so mean to her, and try to help her through it... or she doesn't listen to what Violet's saying, is dismissive, and ends up making things worse.
When Clementine goes hunting with Louis, she has to make the decision to spend time with him or ignore him in favor of hunting, and should she choose him, he opens up to her just a bit.
Then comes the confrontation with Marlon at the end of the episode where Clementine has to make the choice of who to appeal to. The gravity of this choice is often glossed over, I think.
Marlon has a gun pointed at her head, and she pleas for Louis or Violet to step in and save her. Both are hesitant because of course they are! They've known Marlon longer, he has a gun, and he's using manipulation to scare them into submission; he uses his friendship against Louis, and Minerva against Violet.
But when Clementine gets through to them? They stand between her and Marlon in rather in-character ways; Louis eases in with his hands up, attempting to deescalate the situation while Violet pulls out a weapon and demands he back off.
They risked getting shot. They risked death. They knew what was happening was wrong. They didn't want Clementine to die, they didn't fully believe Marlon's bullshit but were too scared to step forward until Clementine asked them, too. In that moment she basically told them, "I trust you. Instinct tells me you are the one who can stop this. My life is in your hands."
This choice changes them, and this moment ripples through the rest of the season. It makes perfect sense that Louis would be upset over Marlon's death and feel unsafe with Clementine and AJ there whereas Violet sees the death as justified and Clementine and AJ shouldn't be kicked out over it. It's an overwhelming situation for everyone.
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I've talked about ep2 and the vote until my lungs nearly collapsed and I saw the gates of Hell over the horizon... but that's fine, I can talk a little more about it and maybe this time the flames with cleanse me of my sins or something.
This is where the fighting really began, and I shouldn't have to say it again, but I will anyway: There isn't an objectively correct answer here, there's only personal preference.
Louis and Violet take very clear, opposite stances on this situation. I think they're both a little wrong and a little right; they shouldn't ignore that AJ killed Marlon, but kicking them out isn't the best solution either.
As a clouis shipper, I happen to like the way these events play out with Louis' vote. But not everyone feels that way. For some, Louis' vote is a deal breaker, making Violet the more appealing option given she voted for Clementine and AJ to stay.
Do you want a girl that's been by Clementine's side from the beginning and was vocal about keeping her and AJ here?
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Great, Violet's the choice for you. Enjoy the lovely moonlight and constellation mini-game.
Do you want the extra angst of a boy who made a vote he comes to regret and then does everything he can to apologize and make it up to Clementine?
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Wonderful, here's Louis. He'll play you a song he wrote and then name it after Clementine, it's very cute.
While on the topic of ep2, I also want to discuss the episode's final choice of saving either Louis or Violet and the consequences.
You know how in other games, say like massive RPG's with "good" and "evil" choices you can make that end up defining your character? You know how sometimes people question why developers even bothered putting those evil routes in since a majority of people will choose to be good? This isn't a new topic of discussion, but it's relevant to my point- they do it because the option to be evil makes the choice to be good more impactful. If you do choose to be evil, you did it knowing you could've been good and yet you decided chaos was the way to go, and now everyone and everything around your character suffers.
I don't think it only applies to binary "good" versus "evil" choices, either.
TWDG is great with its "You can only save one of them" choices, even if they usually fumble with the consequences in later episodes.
When I'm faced with this choice to save either Louis or Violet, I don't save Louis just because I like him more. Sure, initially that's why I saved him on my first run... but then the rest of the season came out and I learned the consequences of the choices I did and didn't make.
Knowing that he'll get his tongue cut out if I don't save him makes me all the more anxious to choose him. And I know violentine shippers are gutted knowing that if they don't save her, she'll feel so betrayed that she turns on Clementine and in the end is blinded in the boat explosion, so they're just as eager to save her.
But all of us have to live with the consequences of what happens to the one we didn't save, too. We made the decision to save the one we love at the cost of hurting the other we didn't love enough. You can't save them both. You're forced to hurt one of them in order to protect the other.
And it doesn't even stop there. TFS isn't done twisting the knife.
Mere moments before you have to make the choice to save one of them, Lilly's standing over Clementine with her finger on the trigger... only to then be tackled by the person you didn't choose to spend time with.
They just saved Clementine's life only to be dragged away by their neck, and the game asks you what that's worth: They got captured saving you, so do you save them in return or do you remain loyal to the one you chose before?
And when you know the consequences of both routes, when you know Louis will have his tongue cut out and Violet will have her eyes burned?
Louis and Violet are good people at their cores who only wanted to be understood and loved, and no matter what, you have to abandon one of them for the other... and they are left physically and mentally traumatized because of it.
But wait, there's more. The one you didn't save will always survive to the end and act as a constant reminder of what you chose... but the one you saved? If you don't trust AJ, then you'll be forced to watch them get torn apart and eaten alive by a herd of walkers. The only way to save them is to trust AJ so that he shoots Tenn.
A child has to die in order for you to save the one you love again, a choice you indirectly made.
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The ending shows you the one you didn't save, and it shows you Tenn's grave... and it presents a quiet question: was it worth it?
Would you make those choices again?
That's the power Louis and Violet bring to TFS.
That's why the choice matters.
We justify trusting AJ because we'd rather see Louis and Violet live over Tenn, knowing we're taking away the best friend AJ's ever had and allowing Minerva to get her way. We save Louis knowing that it breaks something inside of Violet and results in her permanently losing most of her eyesight. We save Violet knowing that we'll find Louis bloody and sobbing in the cell after having his tongue cut out of his mouth.
And we argue about it amongst ourselves even though it's all fucked. There isn't a true happy ending here, not for everyone.
Louis and Violet stand on their own as great characters, but you only get the true depth depending on how you play. They're excellent love interests because they care for Clementine. Through their relationship with her, they grow as people and find the acceptance and love they're starved for.
It's not perfect, but it honestly doesn't need to be. There was care woven into these characters. Both routes have a wide appeal. That means something to so many people.
I know we as fans often will say we wanted more, we wanted this and that, we wish this was different. It's not a dating sim where the main objective is to woo them. It's not a massive RPG with hundreds of hours to explore every nook and cranny of their characters. This is a Telltale game. It's a narrative with Clementine and AJ at the forefront, and it's up to you whether you want Louis or Violet to share that spotlight.
It's a story about Clementine finding a home, about molding what kind of survivor AJ comes. It's about Clementine meeting two broken people with glass shards at their feet, about her glass mixing with theirs. It's a game about choice; which glass pieces do you pick up, and which do you step on?
We should take more time to appreciate Louis and Violet. We should share our appreciation for the development team for giving us a bisexual lead with two great love interests, especially since we almost didn't get TFS in its entirety; we can hate Skybound as much as we want for the Clementine comics, but without them, this team wouldn't have been able to finish the game they were clearly passionate about.
We should have more self-awareness and try to understand why we like and dislike things without targeting others.
In conclusion?
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I think they're both neat 👍
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velvetvexations · 16 days ago
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Since we're talking about forcefem, here're most of the forcefem-related asks I've had in my inbox, some of which are a few days old on account of technically going in the vexatious tag if not exactly kink asks. I wanted to answer one from today on it's own which I'll get to later but I wanted to get to the older ones and also get to a few of the others from today while I was at it.
i just saw a post where a trans guy was showing some messages where someone was (unconsensually) basically roleplaying forcefemming him. despite him telling them that he did not want that and that it was very much transphobic, and he atill got a message boiling down to "you're not a man, silly, you're a girl :D" and. to be honest. this was the thing that stopped the brainworms of "what if the whole concept of transandrophobia is actually transmisogynistic and i am entirely wrong" bc at least some of these people will just say the most bog standard transphobic shit to trans guys and not register it as transphobia. so why the fuck would they be right about anything transmascs experience also on that note thank you for being so outspoken in favour of transmascs getting to discuss their oppression. it's really helpful to see trans women stand with us here, especially when it comes to aforementioned brainworms
congratulations to that transphobe for creating a new transandrobro
the 'forcemasc isnt revolutionary' shit is the most annoying iteration of stupid tumblr discourse. like im going through the tag trying to read some horny shit and oh look. theres someone being stupid and hypocritical. in my horny tag.
people are getting tribalist about kinks and it's depressing
Every time people are saying that trans men & mascs cannot possibly fathom being objectified & fetishized, I think on all of the posts I’ve seen that did that exact same thing. And yeah, some of it might have been kink, so no hate no judgement I dabble in that tag too, but I’ve also seen “get in the dress” type posts that seem to be genuinely calling for trans men to be more feminine, untagged & in the wild, enough where I’m like — am I just imagining this? Like am I crazy? Am I missing something, or was that extremely detailed post about why I MUST stay feminine — or become more — for someone else’s benefit being 100% serious? And, again — if it’s kink, all the power to them, I love that for them, I even occasionally love that for me. But I have encountered enough people who were dead serious that I sometimes want no one but trusted friends & advisors to ever witness me again. And then I look at statistics & feel genuinely ill. And yeah, I’m gnc — and there’s the rub, because while I feel genuine joy being fem as well as masc, I want it to be a Choice, not something forced upon me.
people need to be fucking normal
Yh like ik a lot of shitposts don't have any tags but people have. Really gotta tag forcefem. I've blocked a large amount of people making these jokes + filtered their names n I still see it
I'm sorry, anon. <3
Fuck thank you so much for talking so openly about forcemasc. I’m so dumb I thought there wasn’t a name for that kink that I’ve been into for years, albeit my version is way more weirder. It would be like a… forcemascfem??? Like first it’s forcemasc and then it turns into forcefem and then right back to forcemasc…. And then back to- Idk my gender is weird and my kinky fantasy for that is weird
Cross as many boundries as you want, that sounds rad. Forcefem has a lot of infrastructure to jump off of.
“I’m doing a kink in a non kink way so it’s not kink blog!” Sorry this pisses me off It’s still a kink. Like. If someone made an I-suggest-BDSM blog and tried to claim it wasn’t a kink blog I’m sure more people would see how silly this is but because it’s the transfem approved virtuous forcefem they just let it slide??? Like. You are engaging in a kink and thats fine. You can say there won’t be anything explicitly sexual! But it will still be a kink blog because it’s a blog about a kink! A kink blog if you will! It doesn’t matter if you’re not getting off to it, it’s still a kink! That you are participating in! On your blog about that kink!
It SHOULD piss you off! It's extremely fucking scummy!
what the hell? for like one solid minute(longer than that but i like saying it this way) all the forcefem on my dash was tagged and i could blissfully not have to see it every other post and then just today i had to unfollow a buncha people for an assload of untagged forcefem :/ like im transmasc i think its understandable that i do not wish to see that anyway hope your day is goin well miss velvet
yeah it's praxis to not tag kink anymore
trfs are perfectly aware what the "force" bit means when forcemasc comes up in conversation
strange how that works
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charliemack · 23 days ago
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ok as promised, i watched conclave
wrote down my thoughts and impressions as I went, live-blog style except i was blogging at myself
posted here for those who might care to see them, but below a readmore as it got a bit long. and, em. emotional
please know, i don't need answers to the questions I've made notes of here I already googled them. Also be warned, I never learned to spell and I'm not about to start now
oh dip john lithgow is in this, that bodes well /s
(look up the fancy papal ring)
There's angels in the walls
those glasses are doing nothing for StanTucc, gotta turn down the sexy somehow i suppose
(look up vatican death face keenex)
ok yeah a dude from the terror directed this, it's got pomp frotting all up against bruising mundanity. wax seal interposed with squeaky gurney wheel. good stuff
the heartbeat sound of the gurney clicking back and forth in the back of the ambulance SOMEBODY ISN'T FULLY DEAD YET somebody's getting ready to haunt the narrativvvvve
i will never not be obsessed with ancient institutions having to adapt to modern technology. Updating the security so they can't eavesdrop via lasers against the glass? Nuns on a motorcoach? Cardinals with wheeled luggage? Pile of '00s desk phones on terra cotta tiles? Cardinal with a bright red phone case?? Spectacular (I accept this is an American affectation, we have comparatively few ancient things here and our institutions tend to update themselves very very quickly)
Eminence Tedesco can slap my impudent hands any time he likes
ok yeah a dude from the terror directed this because it's black, white, red, and gold where the terror was black, white, navy, and gold
Oop here we go, intrigue starting
I'm sorry the travertine floors are gorgeous and I want them
LOL nuns in a commercial kitchen. magnificent
Oh ho ho the lost heir emerges, the tropes are hungry
(look up in pectore)
Hello Mr Lost Heir i mean Surprise Cardinal Benitez sir you have beautiful hands
Oop he praised the nuns, he's going to do very well
Oh WOW 25 minutes in and we got our first racism (or at least the first one I picked up on) 😬
Bellini: "I don't want the papacy" mmmm sure Jan
Lawrence the code switcher, speaking italian, speaking latin, calling Tremblay "Joe" - gotta respect it
There are wings in those walls
The fucking .... what is that, a Nespresso? Wild
Goodness but the set design on the dormitory here. I've been in meat lockers that were more hospitable
Well hello close-up silhouette shot. Trying not to make a theme of it but it's very clear the guy who did this also did the terror
Ralph Fiennes' eyes are doing so much heavy lifting here they should get second billing in the credits
The repetition of the ornate costumes such that the finery gets lost and we're left with a background texture that is also living people. Not to belabor the point but yeah a dude from the terror directed this
"Let me speak for the heart for a moment" -> me and everyone else in that room: this guy would be a really good pope probably
I am really impressed that all these red capes and hats are the same red, modern technology is a miracle
Normally an ominous bolting of a door would make me nervous but these guys all seem like they get along really well so it's probably fine
Are they gonna burn the ballots YESSS tHEY BURNED THE BALLOTS this is spectacular
We hear the crowd, we don't see the crowd. I see what they're doing here
Well that was the most circuitous way to tell that story, mr aide person Ray, but full points for building the tension
I wonder if the little motor coaches that ferry them to and from the dormitory will be electric someday
The holy father's ... turtles
OH this is delicious. In the span of six lines of dialog Benitez has flipped the situation around from Lawrence asking him about his health to Lawrence making a confession to him. SPECTACULAR
OH NO Disappointed StanTucc face, anything but that
These vote tallies are gripping. I'm gripped.
Ohhh the color story here. Lawrence you do not belong in this room. This is a room for the nuns, the chairs are blue, the walls are blue, the light is blue, the curtains are blue. His red cape and cap scream violence in a way his tone cannot overcome (I know blue=Mary, that's not the point that's being made here)
Ayedemi what did you doooooo
Wings in the walls again. And now also eyes of judgement
Ah. That's what Ayedemi did.
"So I still have hope" -> wow.
Another magnificently efficient scene. Twenty lines of dialogue? And a man convincingly goes from bluster to weeping
The candidates at empty tables while the fifth vote tally is a delicious choice
Oh look it's Bad-News Ray, also known as Drabs-of-Expedition Ray. I love this guy I wanna be this guy
At this point I feel like we're seeing Lawrence as a man in an extremely stressful administrator's job, a job he's had for a very long time, juussst edging right up to the upper limit of what he can reasonably handle. Sure hope the pot doesn't continue to boil - or something happens to diminish his fortitude
Those're some really lovely gold bedlinens there, Benitez. I guess we can speculate as to who the housekeeping staff are pulling for
There are pointed spears and arrows in the walls
Even the login screen in the nun room is blue, spectacular
And now comes Lawrence into the Blue Nun Room but this time without his red cape, and when we press into the close-up shot we can't see his red cap either. Excellent camera angles happening here
What's in your emaillllls, Sister Agnes??
Oh. That's tidy
Lawrence without his red cap now, and we can't see what's in the walls. Only the red runner on the floor (just like in a children's hospital)
OH. OH OH OH GOSH. Literal seal, literally broken. That was a deeply visceral sound effect
A delightful scene humanizing a holy and unknowable (cuz dead) figure. Aspirin. Rubber bands. Breath mints. Dirty eyeglasses
Sister Agnes is gonna beat Lawrence up and down that hallway or so help me. The spear points in the walls are facing upward now, we are in vigilant watcher mode
There are ghostly dead roots in the walls
Lawrence is a spectacularly lonely man, I think. Most priests are, but I think he is lonelier than most. Probably cuz he can't pray right now
oo-woo what's this in the headboard
Bellini you old grouch. Lawrence is right, by the way, pessimism is the refuge of a coward
GET 'EM AGNES HELL YEAH. The holy photocopier of revenge, that's delightful
(look up mendacious)
Hahhhhh get 'em Agnes. Go on Tremblay, deny it now
WOW
There are swirls of emotion behind Bellini in the walls, and tidy columns and rows of ordered distress behind Lawrence. In the walls
Tedesco has absolutely gorgeous hair, sir, please, tell us your secrets
HOLY SHIT
Oof
WOW
oh
.... sorry I need a moment
And we're back.
A quick comment: even here, in this scene, we don't see the crowd. Only the actions of the crowd. We are well and truly sequestered.
Nuns on the move! That bodes well, I'm sure
The walls are pillars now
Humans as texture. Flowing around a water fountain. Lovely
Tremblay's glasses are broken. Very nice visual
OH gosh Benitez looks like he wants to throw up
And here's Exposition Ray. With 15 minutes of runtime left
Clinic for what, said no one ever
OH
I stand corrected
(I thought it was AIDS)
I need another moment
OK, had to go do the dishes and walk around a bit but that is ... ok. Two words, and they are everything. I want to write a dissertation on this moment because ... because ...
I'm really glad this movie got made.
And that it was made this point in time, in particular
In a slightly lighter opinion: I'm shocked this came as a spoiler, with all the posts I've seen online. In retrospect I think I might've seen a post or two about intersex but .... wow. Just, wow
He has really beautiful hands
From personal experience: Benitez is correct. To exist between the world's certainties, so to speak, is a very powerful way of being human
We hear the crowd. We don't see the crowd.
His Holy Father's Turtle ohhh be nice to the turtle please
I am fascinated by the smoke-making machine. Was that a custom job? Is that a standard piece of equipment I was previously unaware of?
We hear the crowd. We don't see the crowd.
The walls are watching, and they seem unkind
But the birds are singing, and the nuns are happy. So maybe things will be ok?
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abibliophobiaa · 2 years ago
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firstly I love your new blog layout it’s so fucking cute, secondly I love you 💕 thirdly, for your baby prompts, I’m thinking……… butterfly
happiness is a butterfly
got a little carried away with this one. 3k words of modern day!best friend!eddie munson x afab!reader. contains: fluff, alcohol, confessions of feelings, bisexual reader, two friends in a room who might kiss (they do), suggestive innuendo (eddie’s a sweetheart), and argyle’s matchmaking ways. thank you @breddiemunson and @ghost-proofbaby for always calming my wild thoughts, and katie’s line where eddie asks reader not to make him say what she already knows. genius, that one.
-
“happiness is a butterfly
try to catch it like every night
it escapes from my hands into moonlight…”
happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey.
-
Photo after photo. Swipe after swipe. Endless hopefuls that aren’t really hopefuls, because there aren’t many of those in Hawkins these days.
No—there are merely boys, wearing the skin of men, playing with hearts with a carelessness that leaves damage in their wake. Leaves your heart ripped to shreds; battered and bruised. Wounded, but not broken, with jagged lines where smooth surfaces had once been.
Tonight is no different. Tonight you mourn your relationship with Travis. Travis, who played hockey and apparently a different girl or guy in every state. You’d only found out through social media.
One of the girls he brought back to his hotel room had posted an image on her story while he slept, which then surfaced on another person’s social media account, and then eventually became a social media article on some gossip website you couldn’t, for the life of you, be bothered to remember.
You suppose the “Travis debacle,” as Eddie has been calling it, is your fault. A guy from out of town. The allure of some famous player with a broken down car in front of the Hideout, where you worked as a bartender, that you’d had your friend Eddie fix up as a favor.
You’d tossed him his keys as the sun set, burnt orange and red across the summer sky, and he’d asked, “How much?”
And suddenly you’d spent the week welcoming him around Hawkins, as well as the intricacies of your susceptible heart. Had preened and praised him while he perused his options in the next town over on his problematic apps.
The same apps you’re now frowning at, watching the population around you continue to dwindle with every pass of your thumb.
“You know, they say insanity is—”
“Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
You shoot a glare Eddie’s way, watching his dexterous fingers pull his hair back into a makeshift bun at the back of his head. Those same fingers reach down to grab your glass, chipped black nail polish capturing your attention as he draws your drink up to his lips and takes a long sip.
“Tequila. Travis really fucked up.” He chuckles. The movement has his cropped shirt billowing around his hips, tattoos on his sides visible where the holes his arms extend through as he settles down beside you. “You know, I think you need to ditch the apps. I did, and I’m much better for it.”
“You got a puppy a few weeks ago,” you point out, finger jabbing him in the ribs. He hisses, cupping his pec. “Getting a puppy is code for throwing in the towel.”
“Ozz is the cutest puppy, I’ll have you know. Look—” He waves to Gareth as he passes by, drumsticks twirling in his hands. “Delete the apps. Take a break. Isn’t there some quote about happiness? That Nathaniel Hawthorne one. You know, the ‘happiness is a butterfly’ one you used in a paper back in school.”
“One, I can’t believe you remember that.”
Your nose wrinkles at the thought of your teenage years. Of you with braces and he himself being the first person to welcome you to sit with him on your first day of school, snapping at Jason Carver when he’d brushed by you and thumped your shoulder a little too hard for his liking.
“And two, the quote is actually ‘happiness is like a butterfly, which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp. But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.’”
“So stop chasing it. Just let it happen. C'est la vie. Carpe diem. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”
You don’t even bother letting him know none of those things mean what he thinks they do.
“Eddie.”
He loops his arm around your neck. Presses a kiss against your temple. You lean into his embrace, comfortable warmth that seeps into your bones and floods you with familiarity.
He’s hard lines against your softer edges. Inky tapestries of collected memories that tell a tale of his adventurous life on the forearm tangled in your hair. His ring-clad fingers delight in toying with the tips, hair shifting between digits like water.
Calming and soothing Eddie. A constant in your life since you were teenagers, now going on ten years of friendship later. Someone you’ve always been able to turn to at the end of the day; someone who never once questions your motives, even if he might suggest you try different methods to your lifestyle habits.
And now, your dating habits.
“I’m just saying it’s worth a try.”
-
Maybe you don’t stop right away. Maybe it takes a date with Joe, Jim and Jessica to realize the truth of Eddie’s words. Maybe there’s some weight to pushing it all aside, stepping out of the way of your own preconceived timeline, and allowing someone to walk in at the right place and time.
And on a night such as this, where Corroded Coffin are getting set up on stage and citizens are packing out the bar to see the increasingly popular band play, it’s easy to remember why swiping on your phone has brought you here. To asshole Andy Lerman standing before you while you work. Basketball coach at Hawkins High and douchebag royalty from what you remember of him back in your years of teenage angst and adolescence.
He’s had a few drinks now. You know because you’ve served him. But all they’ve done is instill courage in him to step over to the girl who people teased in school for being a “freak fucker” by merely being associated with Eddie, claiming time ‘really did wonders for you.’
He’s staring at your tits when he says it, and it takes everything in you to not toss his next drink in his face. But in a town where money is hard to come by, and there’s not much to do by way of work, bartending pays the bills, and you’re not about to mess up one of the few good gigs left.
“Andy, it’s really not going to work,” you tell him, “but here. Your last one of the night…on me.”
With a quick pat to his shoulder, you send him on his merry way with a fuller pocket and a story to warp when regaling his friends with the time he pity-invited the “freak fucker” on a date.
“Don’t look now, my lady, but Eddie Munson is staring at you,” Argyle says, working on mixing a margarita beside you for a patron.
“He’s not staring at me,” you retort, sliding a vodka soda across the bar, thanking your customer for the hefty tip they toss your way. At Argyle’s raised brow, you reiterate, “he’s not.”
“He’s always staring. That’s the look Eden gives me. You know, the look of someone in l—”
Argyle’s words are cut short as Eddie appears on the other side of the bar, bare elbows pressing against the counter, hair falling out of his ponytail, bangs long overdue for a cut shifting every time he blinks.
“Are you okay?” He asks, thanking Argyle as he passes him the beer he knows he prefers. At your arching brow, he continues, “I saw Andy Lerman flirting with you. You looked uncomfortable.”
You snort, getting to work on a moscow mule. “That’s because I was uncomfortable. But I took care of it. I appreciate you always looking out, though.”
He reaches over and grabs your chin. Gives your head a little wiggle until you’re grinning against his palm. Then reaches his fingers over toward you, rests them so gently against your curled palm resting on the bar and pauses. He waits a moment and closes his ringed fingers into a fist, knocking his knuckles against yours.
Then he’s off toward the stage to get ready, leaving you with a knot in your throat and warmth prickling against your skin.
Argyle passes you a knowing smile and before you can yell at him to get back to work, embarrassment roiling in your chest, he announces he’s going to take a quick break and call his wife.
His words spin in your head once more. Comparing Eddie’s gazes to Eden’s. To the nature of the depth in which he cares for you. But you shake your head free of it.
You’ve been unlucky in love.
It couldn’t be so simple.
-
Argyle’s words don’t change much in regards to your Eddie conundrum.
They’re a phantom in the back of your mind. Wispy tendrils of a memory that feels distant now.
Weeks pass, and the warm heat of summer in Hawkins turns to a sweltering hell on earth.
The Hideout becomes quieter most evenings. Those with air conditioning prefer to stay home, remain by their pools, to host gatherings where alcohol and coolers are plentiful.
And you don’t blame them, letting out a long huff as you wipe down the counter, while Argyle counts your tips.
“Oh, how was that date with…Paul, was it?” He muses thoughtfully, beginning to split the money.
“Not great.”
“You said that about the last three. What was wrong with this one?”
And that’s the thing. You sit across from these people, trying to force a square into a circle, trying to sparse out the qualities that they’re lacking.
Not funny enough. Not the right hair color. They lack that unruly smile. That glimmer of brightness in their amber eyes. There’s no dimple in Paul’s cheek. No banter on your date with Jeremiah. Caleb doesn’t like metal, and Kayla thinks D&D is a breeding ground for satanism (you’d thought that one was left in the 80s, but it appears not).
“He said Dio was overrated.”
“Interesting,” Argyle laughs, shaking his head.
You whirl around, damp bar towel flicking water his way. “What’s so interesting?”
“Just funny when two people are so obviously similar and don’t even see it,” he says, humming to himself, conversation over.
And that was that.
-
It’s funny, you think, that it only hits you then.
Like the flutter of butterfly wings on your flowerbeds you’d managed to stumble upon earlier that morning, the flicker of wings on a bird in the sky. The soft beating of both, like the constant thump of a heart in a chest.
A constant.
It’s the word everything hitches on as you sit on that work table in your garage, watching the man who stopped everything he was doing when you’d called earlier at the drop of a hat. All just to make sure you were okay.
That same person who is now up to his elbows in grease, fingers stained an oily black. With his hair pulled away from his face, you catch the determined line of his mouth, the jut of his tongue pushing lightly against pink lips. The corded lines of his arms move as he works, barest hint of stomach on display when he reaches up to slam the hood of your car down once it’s finished.
You toss him a towel, grinning at the shadowy form of him blocking the sun from your eyes. “Sorry you’re doing this instead of the movies.”
“Stop that. You know I’m happy to spend any time with you, sweetheart,” he laughs, wiping the planes of his face that are streaked like the fingers pressing against terry cloth to keep it in place. “Fixed the alternator and did an oil change. Seeing as you always forget anyway.”
He walks over slowly, grunting when your sandaled foot kicks him playfully in the kneecap. “That was why my car made that awful sound and shut off?”
“Exactly.” He curls the towel around his neck. “Day is still young. How about we—”
“Why’d you delete all your dating apps?”
The words fall from you in a rush. A swift exhale that has Eddie’s back drawn ramrod straight. Rigid, but not with anger. Instead, you watch that full mouth part just slightly. Like the words he had been about to say were lost to the wind, left to titter away into nothingness.
He swallows audibly, palm sliding over the towel across his neck. “I…just didn’t see the point in them.”
Determination hardens your resolve. Brings to attention Argyle’s teasing these weeks. The wondering, questioning, burgeoning curiosities brimming. So you utter a simple, “Why?” and try your damndest to ignore the nerves welling up in your chest at the fear of what comes next.
“Just kind of felt like I was using them to get over someone else,” he admits, taking a step closer.
Your bare knees brush the tops of his thighs. Warmth seeps into your skin, bristles at his touch.
Dark eyes drag along your form. Along the dress you wore that evening, covered in flowers, a thin thing that would have fluttered in the wind if you and Eddie had been able to do what you’d planned for the day. Simple drive to the lake to eat some lunch, share a joint and fish (a new hobby he'd picked up from his uncle), then movies at the theater when the sun had set.
You meet his stare. Remind yourself of those eyes that had been on you the whole time Andy had leaned over the bar just weeks ago. Ready at any moment to come to your aid, should you have needed it. He’s never pushed you, never crossed the boundaries of your friendship, trusted you knew best.
But he’d always been there if you ever needed a hand.
You only ever needed to reach out.
Always.
You swallow thickly. “Who?”
“Don’t make me tell you what you already know.”
It’s quiet. A plea for pity that has your heart clenching within your chest.
But it’s not scary.
It’s not frightening at all.
Dozens of memories flash behind your eyes.
Of teenage years, laughing in the cafeteria, trading snacks, sneaking off to the woods between classes to smoke. Of you in community college, and his van screeching through the parking lot to take you to lunch between classes. Of nights at his place, your place, the movies, around town. Of ice cream at Lover’s Lake with his van doors swung wide, trying to make out the shapes of the clouds in the sky.
Birthday parties, milestones, weddings, grieved losses.
To highs and lows and everything in between. To all those shitty dates, to his own failed dating escapades. To that time you had to ice his lip in the back of the Hideout when Jeff had accidentally elbowed him in the face, or when you’d fallen off Max’s skateboard and ripped open your shin and he’d had to hold your hand while he disinfected it.
To this very moment, where he’s just finished fixing your car. To him with his dirty palm tapping lightly against your kneecap, feet shifting awkwardly beneath him.
Your head tips up and you catch the downturn of his lips, frozen in time by your prolonged silence.
Argyle was right.
“What?”
You hadn’t realized you spoke out loud, but confusion swirls behind Eddie’s gaze all the same, mollified only when your hand snakes up around the back of his neck and drags him downward to your level. Only when you pour your affection into him where you’re finally, lovingly, connected at last.
The fullness of his mouth against the softness of yours is hesitant at first, like his brain needs a moment to catch up to his current reality, before he’s tipping your head up with his hand. Until his fingers slide across your cheek, cupping you gently, easing you closer to him.
Before long he’s gripping you closer. Deft fingers in the dough of your thighs, tugging you flush against him, skirt indecently high up on your hips. But you don’t care. Not as your ankles lock around his waist, nor as he hums into your throat while he leaves a sloven path along your skin, learning the sounds you make when he’s tender, sweet—when he scores his teeth against your pulse point and you melt like putty beneath his devotion filled fingertips.
Ten years. Ten years of watching that silly butterfly float away into the sky, only for it to have been there all along.
Only for it to have been the man with his forehead against yours, noses flush together, your fingers beneath his shirt and his around the bend of your kneecaps.
You’re not sure where you start and he ends, but even that incites a new thrill, a new world to explore further. A desire to know the depths of him beyond the limit of friendship.
“Argyle got to you too, huh?” At your nod, Eddie barks out a laugh. Kisses you softly. “Fuckin’ guy thinks he’s Cupid or something.”
“I don’t want to talk about Argyle right now.”
Eddie’s lips curl into a grin. The whites of his teeth flash in your gaze, your fingers trailing along his stubble-lined jaw.
“I don’t either.” His thumb comes to swipe at your cheek, dimple in his cheek twitching slightly. “Got you a little greasy. Just…ten years, you know? Got a little carried away.”
You nod, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. He watches as you hop down from the work table, brow arching curiously as you tug him toward the door leading into your home. “Well, like you said, we’ve got ten years to catch up on. So before I kiss you more, Edward Munson, we’re going to shower.”
“We?” He swallows, voice hoarse. “Like a two people conserving water shower?”
You enter the small laundry room, humming as his chest brushes your own, his weight just enough against yours to press you into the lip of your drying machine. Cool metal chills your skin at the open back of your dress, balanced by the heat of the knee that slides between your thighs to pin you in place. Your body both buzzes with life and oozes honey into your system as you melt into him, pliant under that smoldering dark gaze of your best friend in front of you.
“We,” you nod, grinning into his kiss. “After that we’re cuddling on the couch and ordering a pizza.”
“And tomorrow…I’m taking you on a date.”
-
🦋
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prolix-yuy · 1 year ago
Text
The Reason for the Season
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: What does Christmas mean after the world falls apart? Ellie sure doesn't know, but Joel knows who might.
Word Count: 6.6k
Warnings: T, some suggestive thoughts, one steamy kiss, teen angst and a whole lot of yearning! Our reader is given the following attributes: a history of Christmas celebrations, a father, and while not stated in the fic, she was old enough to be a teacher when the outbreak happened. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.
Notes: Hello to my sweet Sil @psychedelic-ink! I'm your not-so-secret Santa and I'm here to deliver your holiday fic! And doubly, your birthday present! I’m so glad we got to meet on this wild app, and may your holidays and your birthday be as amazing as you!
You asked for something very Christmas-y with some friends to lovers romance, and boy did this get out of hand! I hope you enjoy Joel finding a little Christmas spirit.
Cross-posted on AO3
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There’s little sacred in the world anymore, but making the morning cup of coffee might be as close as Joel gets. The early rising, his bedtime vestments crumpled and stretched across tired muscles. The soothing routine: the mug, the pour over coffee dripper, and the Holy Beans. Every movement is seamless, practiced and almost sightless for those mornings when he can’t peel his eyes open. All in service to the first sip, and the glorious awakening it will bring.
Though with the clattering of Doc Martens and teen angst coming down the stairs, it’s not necessarily needed.
“Mornin’,” Joel rumbles over the mug, eyebrows raised at Ellie’s earlier-than-usual scowl. She opens the fridge, every movement thrown to the extremes of her small frame. Bowl clattering, spoon chiming against stoneware, a worrisome glug of milk, and she returns to flop into her seat across from Joel. He takes another sip, maybe a little louder than usual.
“Sounds the same going in as coming out,” she grumbles, but the half smile she allows is a triumph. 
“Told you not to listen in on a man’s morning movements.” Ellie scrunches her nose up at that, jabbing her spoon into some granola. She’s only moving it around, not partaking, and Joel sets his cup down on the table. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks down his nose at her.
“Something on your mind?” 
Joel was never much for beating around the bush with Sarah’s moods, and he certainly hasn’t changed much with Ellie. She sighs and lets the spoon clatter back into the bowl.
“What the hell is up with Christmas?” 
The question works better than the coffee, brain scrambling into overdrive in much the same way as when he caught Ellie holding a beat-up Bearskin magazine.
“Well…” he starts pensively, but Ellie bowls right through his low hum.
“Like some of the kids celebrate it and others don’t, but neither of them know why. Everyone’s arguing about something called Santa. And they’re bringing trees inside!” She tosses her hands, giving him a weird am I right look that butts against his confused expression.
“FEDRA didn’t teach you kids about Christmas?” 
Ellie shrugs, folding her legs up into the kitchen chair.
“I’ve heard of it, but y’know…not exactly high on their list of priorities.” She starts worrying at a small rip in her jeans until Joel snaps a warning look. He just bartered for those, he won’t have her hurrying them back to scrap.
“I’ve kinda been…pretending I get it.” She trails off, face closing back up and Joel recognizes the outburst for what it is. Embarrassment.
“Well, Christmas is something that, uh…that lots of families celebrated before. It’s, uh…it’s a time at the end of the year to be…you know, to be together and thankful. That sort of thing.”
He can practically hear her eyes roll.
“But what the hell’s a Santa, and trees, and all the baking?” Her finger shoots up, angled directly at Joel. “I know there are presents!”
Joel scoffs, taking another sip and ruminating on how to tackle a tradition he’s barely paid attention to since the outbreak. It all felt so insignificant in the winters following, only a counter for how long he’s suffered so far. Then, when things calmed a fraction, the idea of opening his heart to anything remotely like thankfulness made him want to bloody every knuckle. 
So he tucked his chin and paid no attention to parents trying their best to give their children something bright in the darkest days of winter. Tess never mentioned it, the shine in her eyes at candles lit in windows hard to distinguish from tears. And now, twenty-odd years later, he can barely fathom where to start. 
“There’s a lot of traditions, variations. I don’t remember half of ‘em, but…” A sudden spark of an idea, a way to cheat out of this conversation and not get sulked to death over it, catches the corner of his mouth. “But I think that teacher you like might have some books about it.” 
Ellie’s face lights up, abandoning her bowl to go galloping back up the stairs to her room. “Eat something first, then we’ll go,” trails up behind her. Joel savors the last bit of coffee before rising to rinse the cup, his own smile tugging at his lips. Shouldering his heavy winter jacket, Ellie wolfs down four bites of her granola while still in motion. Wiping her chin with the cuff of her jacket, she shoots a shit-eating grin at Joel as she heads to the door.
“Don’t think I didn’t catch that, old man,” she sing-songs as they move into the bracing Wyoming air. “Always looking for an excuse.”
“Whaddya mean?” he asks with as much nonchalance as he can muster, but Ellie’s raised brown and carefree shrug clearly don’t buy it.
“You’re a lousy liar, Joel.”
Not as bad as you think.
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The schoolhouse is not much more than a converted home, the ground floor filled with bookshelves and improvised desks and controlled chaos. By the time Joel and Ellie came to Jackson it was well established, but Maria explained how it changed hands and struggled for years before the current teacher. 
“It’s hard to prioritize learning over survival, but it’s the only way we move on as a community,” she said as she led the pair through their Jackson orientation. Ellie had been sighing heavily and dragging her feet - “school is boring, Joel, why can’t I go on patrol?” - before Maria led them into the kitchen. 
“And here’s who we have to thank for dealing with our wild ones,” Maria said, and you looked up from your work. 
The first thing Joel noticed was your smile. It spread so easily across your face, unselfconscious and radiant. You extended a hand to Ellie first, who suppressed enough of her ennui to act pleasant. Joel was next, enveloping her cool fingers with his large palm. He blanked on your name that time, needing to ask Maria privately for it, but the warmth and lightness of your presence could be blamed for that. 
Joel didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that meeting sure as hell paved the way for the private and closely guarded crush he had on you now. 
Ellie took a liking to you almost as quickly, and Joel could see why you were successful when others might have failed. You assessed her mood with ease, redirecting her dread to a section of the schoolhouse that held instruments. She moved immediately to an old guitar, cross-legged on the floor with the too-large instrument in her lap. 
“Can you teach me how to play this?” she asked, and you admitted to only knowing a few chords. 
“I can,” Joel piped up, his own voice surprising him. “I know how to play.” 
Twin bright eyes danced on his face, and he struggled to keep the flush from creeping past his collar.
“If you have some time, I have other students who would love to learn.”
And that’s how on some afternoons Joel found himself showing a handful of teens on the cusp of adulthood how to strum chord progressions. He viewed it as a duty to the community…or at least that’s what he said when Maria and Tommy asked. It was also the perfect excuse to stop by early and chat with you, or scrutinize a leaky window or dripping faucet. Anything to keep him in the same room as you taught simple math or reading comprehension. 
“Any time you want to bring that handiness by my place you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he caught Joel waving you goodbye on the well-trodden path home. 
“You take better care of your place, you won’t need help,” he spat back with no fire. Tommy shrugged, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. 
“Just sayin’, that schoolhouse might withstand another apocalypse with all the work you’ve done on it. I hope its proprietor is…appreciative.” The cheeky wink eggs on a shoulder punch that almost becomes a wrestling match between two men who should know better. Instead Joel calls Tommy a name and Tommy laughs and Joel stares at the ceiling that night wondering if you would be…appreciative of what he’d like to give you. 
Only some of those thoughts are pure in nature.
But the years, even the kind ones, have choked up his tongue and made him a coward. You’re clearly eligible, no other men sniffing around much to Joel’s surprise. He doesn’t think it’s completely one-sided either. You smile at him and put your hand on his shoulder and stand close enough that he can smell your soap and gentle musk. And what’s worse is you’re something rare to him, something miraculously unsullied by twenty years of hell. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to survive without hardening, without breaking and mending over and over until the repair is the whole self. But you are still kind, and understanding, and gentle, and open. There’s only one reason Joel can attribute to this rarity. 
Someone loved you.
Someone loved you so very much that they protected you, let you be open-hearted and trusting even with the world crashing down. And if that someone is no longer here, that’s a hole he can never fill. But every day he spends in Jackson shedding years of plate armor and barbed wire, he contemplates if he might be getting closer to someone who could at least try. 
In the meantime he makes his excuses, much like now, and suppresses the little smiles and giddy feeling in his stomach. 
“Been meaning to check on that plumbing issue she had last week,” he says breezily, snow crunching underfoot and the chill air nipping at his nose. 
“Suuuure, I bet you’d love to see her plumbing,” Ellie snarks, sprinting away as Joel’s face heats up.
“Watch your fucking language, kid,” he growls, the irony not lost on him, as the schoolhouse comes into view.
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You can always tell when Ellie arrives. The kids born after the outbreak have a peculiar set of social norms and rules. You’re not sure if she even knows that she should knock before entering, or take her boots off. Then again, it’s an exercise in contemplation when you consider why those societal norms would return when their framework’s been shattered.
Keep your boots on in case you have to run.
Don’t announce your entrance in case something’s lurking.
A whole other etiquette you watch like a zookeeper behind glass.
“Good morning Ellie,” you call from the kitchen. Your heart flutters briefly wondering if…
“Morning, ma’am.”
Joel ambles into the kitchen, massaging heat back into his palms. His cheeks are ruddy with windburn, and you bite the inside of your lip considering how your own hot palms could warm them. 
“Good morning Joel, didn’t expect you in so early.” Dusting your hands off, you round the counter to step into his space. A little game you like to play: how much more obvious must you be before he’ll notice you’re flirting with him? Another brushed shoulder, squeeze of the forearm, eyes connecting a second too long. Thrilling yes - it’s been a long time since you’ve had a crush - but at this rate you’ll both be ninety before either of you admit it. 
“Ellie has something to ask you,” he says, turning to look for his ward. The strange wording patters your heartbeat into an uneasy rhythm. 
“Should I be worried?” you laugh, Joel’s deep brown eyes coming back to your face with a sheepish smile. Oh god, when he smiles your knees can barely handle it.
“I might have passed the buck on a conversation.” 
Before you can ask Ellie slips into the kitchen, weaving around Joel’s wider frame and hopping up on one of the barstools surrounding the kitchen island. The ones Joel made with those strong hands and thick fingers.
“What’s the deal with Christmas?”
The question catches you off guard no matter the preamble. 
“Um. Huh. Well, I guess…what do you want to know?” you ask, sidling around to lean across the counter from her. Joel is still in your peripheral, practically filling the door frame.
“Everybody’s talking about it,” she bemoans, taking a dried apple slice you’d laid out and turning it on the countertop. “And I keep pretending it’s like, so awesome, but I just don’t…get it.” Her thumbnails pick at the leathery edge of the fruit, and the child you’ve watched pressure girls twice her age into shenanigans softens around the edges. 
“It’s all, ‘my family does this, my family does that,’ and it’s like…I never had anyone to celebrate with before. FEDRA did some stuff with us, but it was…” A shrug, accepted without comment. “And they all seem to love it, and I maybe want to…feel that.” The hedging makes you lean further over, grabbing your own apple slice and turning it between your fingers.
“Well, Joel must have told you there are a lot of ways people celebrate the holidays.” Looking up to Joel he grimaces slightly, raising one shoulder in apology. “And there are lots of different traditions. I’m not surprised you’re confused.”
“Yes! Is Jesus like, Santa’s kid or something?”
The stifled laugh comes straight out of your nose and you have to clear your throat to keep from snorting further. 
“Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here but tell you what, I’ve got a plan.” Ellie looks up at you with a guarded sparkle in her eyes, and it only widens your smile. “Let me do some research first. There are things I don’t know either. So how about you come back next week and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned during the tree decorating.”
Ellie raises an eyebrow. “Tree decorating?”
You must be glowing by now. “Oh, you are in for a treat.”
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Leaning against the doorway, Joel takes in the scene. Ellie’s moment of vulnerability, buried back under her feigned indifference. The excitement bubbling under the surface of your smile. 
The way you lean over the counter, the curve of your back only accentuating your shapely ass as you sway slightly. 
Fuck, maybe he should just come out and confess his crush so he can at least feel awkward when he sees you instead of embarrassingly horny.
He’s relieved Ellie suggested coming to you. Your solution to his problem is simple and brilliant, a weight lifting off his chest. Sometimes Ellie is no different than his child, and other times Sarah’s memory makes the smallest endearing unbearable.
Sarah’s mom had taken care of the holiday explanation, navigating the unique customs of their little household. She explained why they had a tree and a menorah, and who’s Santa and the Festival of Lights. When Sarah got older and started asking more pointed questions, they both sat down and explained all their traditions and why they were important. Joel had, admittedly, been more of a supporting role, but for their family it worked. 
Then Ellie had to pitch that question at him, looking up like Sarah had, though so much smaller, and his throat closed up. He knew she needed it. Hell, maybe even he could use some holiday cheer, but Ellie was too no-nonsense and Joel was too out of practice, ripe for bungling it up.
He’ll have to thank you in some way. Though there’s not much to fix nowadays, and if he spends much more time here volunteering he might get roped into actually being a teacher. 
“...and since it’s your first time, you get to add your own ornament to the tree. It can be anything you want, and at the end of the holidays we pack it up with the others for next year.”
That’s it, he thinks. A small way to repay your kindness. He has some scrap wood in the communal woodshop, and most evenings are quiet there. There must be a coping saw in some toolbox, a few rasps and awls. 
“That does sound pretty cool,” Ellie says, and where you might have thought it to be begrudging, Joel can clearly hear her excitement. 
“I think you’ll love it.”
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That week was one of the busiest - and sneakiest - that Joel could recall in recent years. It seemed to be the same for you, watching you flit around town with a battered notebook and chewed-up pencil. You were talking to people, smiling, laughing. Whatever the conversation was made everyone else smile too, throwing fond looks at each other. Sometimes playful bickering, or conspiratorial whispers followed, and you gathered up all those words into that well-worn notepad. 
Joel, on the other hand, was making himself more scarce than usual. He kept up appearances, not slacking on patrols and showing up when he’s expected, but every free moment is spent in the woodshop. 
He could have gone the simple route, cutting slices out of some nice quality wood, something with a live edge, but it was too simple. He wanted something that would make you light up, your mouth drop open and your eyes sparkle. 
Further back than he’s willing to count, he remembered a fellow contractor showing him gifts he made for his daughters each year. Beautiful wooden snowflakes, carved in geometric shapes that would reveal tessellations and patterns when glued together. 
The idea seemed simple enough, but it had been a long time since his hands had done anything delicate. The pattern was easy to make, but as he dragged the coping saw along the curves and points his hand would cramp, or the blade would zig when he wanted it to zag. He’d get up and walk around the shop to shake out the frustration, telling himself it’s only four more pieces…for this ornament. 
When he feels like giving up and tossing the whole project in the trash, he thinks of the feeling he’ll get when you hang them on the branches, the way you might touch his arm or look into his eyes when you thank him. 
And then he thinks that forget the mistletoe, he’ll kiss you whenever and wherever you’ll let him.
On the fourth day of hiding in the woodshop Ellie bursts in, halfway through a sentence before she even gets in the door.
“...and I haven’t gotten her anything and I know she’ll get me something so like, what should I…” Her entrance startles him, yanking a rag over a freshly glued ornament. 
Too slow, old man, he thinks as her eyes snap to his attempt at deception.
“What’cha got there, Joel?” she asks, sly smile matching her embellished cadence. 
“Just workin’ on things, what were you talking about?” he deflects, leaning on one elbow to hide the mess behind his shoulder. Ellie nods, understanding stark on her face as she ambles up.
“Oh sure, since when have you ever cared what I’m talking about?”
Joel can’t stop the hurt look dashing across his face, leaning forward. “I care…”
Tricked! Ellie’s hands dart under his arm and yank the cloth away, exposing the half-assembled ornaments and lengths of twine.
“You’re so fucking easy…” she starts to say, but the words stop when she sees the mess underneath. 
“What are those?” she asks, and for a moment Joel wants to snark something back at her - none of your goddamn business or don’t make fun of me - but then he realizes she probably doesn’t have any idea what they are. What would she have seen adorning a tree? Maybe dried fruit, popcorn, little trinkets that people saved hoping one day they could have Christmas again? 
So he clears his throat and makes himself vulnerable. To a teenager. Easily one of the scariest things on this earth, cordyceps included.
“They’re for the tree lighting. Had a buddy who used to make ‘em, and I thought it’d be a nice gift for…to the schoolhouse. For being so helpful and all that.” He can feel his ears reddening but Ellie hasn’t taken her eyes off the snowflakes. She traces one of the finished ones, pointer finger running along the edge he dulled with an ancient rust-filled rasp. “You hang them on the tree.”
Ellie’s quiet for a moment, inspecting and nudging the pieces around, before she finally speaks.
“They’re cool. I didn’t know contractors could make pretty things too.”
Joel snorts, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ll let you know I’m a man of multitudes.”
She snorts, the tension breaking, as Joel moves pieces around to show how they fit together to form the abstract snowflake shape. As he’s explaining the process she’s shockingly quiet, but everything is open - eyes, ears, half-parted mouth. If he’d known this was something they shared he would have built things with her ages ago.
“Is one of these mine? The one I can bring?”
Joel mulls for a moment, tapping fingers on the workbench, before he hauls himself up to stand.
“Nah, I’ve got something better for you.”
It takes a few minutes of searching for a suitable wood piece not being used for something important. Then a few more to saw off a round, sweat beading on the edge of his hairline and biceps tensing. Ellie’s eyes widen when he hands her the wood circle, ushering her back to the workbench. 
“I think somethin’ more personal would be good to bring. How about you write your name on it?”
Ellie’s eyes narrow, playfully mistrusting.
“Just my name?”
“You’ll see.”
As she writes and erases about six times, Joel hunts through the workshop for the little woodburning kit he spied weeks ago. It’s janky, but it doesn’t electrocute him when he plugs it in. He waves Ellie over and takes the wood, admiring her no-nonsense script. 
“They ever teach you woodburning at school?” Ellie shakes her head, and Joel’s smile turns lopsided. “Then you’re gonna love this.”
Using the hot metal tip of the fat pencil-like tool, he meticulously traces her lettering, burning it permanently into the wood.
“Holy shit, that’s so cool!” she exclaims, getting close enough that he has to shoo her back so she doesn’t get wisps of woodsmoke right up her nose. He lets her finish the last E, warning her to go slow so the line doesn’t chatter. It’s not perfect, but she’s so excited he can’t find fault.
“Now for a little holiday decoration,” he mumbles, and with stiff joints and too-big hands he burns in a border of holly leaves and berries, even dotting the I in her name with one. 
“All finished,” he says, and before he can even blow on the final product it’s in her hands, tracing the lines and practically thrumming with excitement.
“Can I keep it?” she asks, spinning it in her palm. 
“Just until this weekend, but I can show you how to make…” His sentence trails off as she’s already heading for the door.
“Awesome, thanks Joel!” she calls over her shoulder. He chuckles to himself, ambling back to his own little project. Ellie turns in the doorway, silhouetted by the sun dipping low.
“She’ll love those too,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows and disappearing before he can retort. Sighing, he turns back to the last few pieces he needs to assemble.
He hopes she does.
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Joel finishes the ornaments just in time for the tree decorating, timed perfectly with Jackson’s town square lighting. Joel saw Tommy drag the tree into your schoolhouse, conversing with you and Maria as he brushed stray needles from your front porch. The way you smiled when someone did kind things for you warmed Joel even from afar.
“Planning on helping out with the festivities tonight?” Tommy asked as the day wound down, putting boxes on the bar as Joel enjoyed a whiskey. 
“Ellie wants to go to the tree decoratin’, figured I’d make myself useful.”
Tommy’s half smile hovers in his periphery. He tries to ignore it.
“You got something to hang on that nice teacher’s tree?” Joel rolls his eyes and throws back the drink. He’s not going to sit by and tolerate romance advice from his baby brother. “C’mon, you know she’s into you, right? Looks at you like you hung the moon.” Tommy leans on the bar, turning something small between his fingers. “See you looking at her like that too. Practically Hallmark shit by now.” 
“See ya, Tommy,” Joel sighs, getting up from his chair while rolling his eyes.
“Well, at least you can bring this too,” he says, and holds out what he’s been fiddling with. 
Joel looks down, and his heart stops.
“...Where did you…”
Tommy’s face softens, placing the item between them on the bar. 
“Went home before I ended up in Jackson. Not a lot left there, but I found the Christmas box in the basement. It was one of the few things I could carry with me.” Tommy’s face fights an emotion welling up, forcing a smile even as his eyes shine. “Thought she could be part of a new tradition too.”
A small wooden ornament fashioned to look like a Christmas ball, the name “Sarah” painted in the center and surrounded by red and green patterns. She brought it home from school and it had a prominent place on their tree, even as she got older and complained about how ugly it was. 
Joel’s throat is so tight his breath whistles out, chest pounding and eyes stinging, but he picks up the ornament and cradles it in his work-worn hands. Then, a lightness eases his breathing, and a soft smile plays across his face. He clears his throat preemptively, pocketing the treasure.
“Yeah, I will. I’ll put it next to Ellie’s. Thank…thank you,” he stumbles, and the brothers share a moment of memory. 
“And you know, everyone’s gonna be out looking at the lights tonight in case you need some privacy,” Tommy suggests, breaking the tension with all the finesse of a sledgehammer. 
“Bye, Tommy,” Joel calls over his shoulder, Tommy’s chuckle ushering him out.
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You must have done this many times before, because when Joel and Ellie walk into the schoolhouse it’s like something off a holiday card. The school supplies are tucked away in favor of  soft seating areas. The tree Tommy brought in is tucked in a corner, lights already wound around the thick boughs. Something apple and spiced wafts through the air, and the chatter of children and adults alike is at the comfortable level that it blankets everything in a festive glow. 
Ellie’s face is glowing too, taking in the drastic shift in decor. She hangs back a little, eyes roaming and waving to friends but shyly tucked behind Joel’s elbow. Her hand is in her pocket, and Joel would put money on her ornament being in the palm of her hand. Joel’s not much better, Sarah’s in his own and a paper packet tucked under his arm. 
Before either of them can feel too out of place, you weave through the growing crowd with a wave. 
“I’m so glad you could come!” you call out, squeezing Joel’s arm and beaming down at Ellie. She shifts on her feet, a small smile appearing at a familiar face.
“This is wild, is like the whole town here?” she asks, and you shrug with your hands on your hips. Some of your hair is out of place, and perspiration clings to your throat. Joel swallows, eyes darting away. 
“Well I did say I had a special surprise for tonight, and you inspired it!” you say, motioning to a series of little dioramas tucked into an empty bookshelf. Ellie weaves around Joel to get a closer look as you point out one of the shelves.
“You asked me about Christmas and I didn’t know what to tell you because I don’t know all that much about how it came to be, or the traditions around it. But then I realized we’re all building a new world together, and the holidays are what we bring with us.” You slide a piece of paper out and hand it to Ellie, and she reads it with a growing smile. Joel leans over to catch a glimpse at your prim handwriting.
Christmas was very traditional in my house. Santa was supposed to come by and bring us presents for being good girls and boys. We would write letters to him about things we wanted, and our parents were supposed to deliver them to him. On Christmas Eve we baked cookies and left them out for Santa because he had a lot of houses to deliver to and needed snacks. I left out carrots for the reindeer too, because they were doing all the work. And then on Christmas morning dad made pancakes and we weren’t allowed to open anything until mom was up. I believed in Santa until I was about 12, when I asked how he could get into houses without chimneys. My parents told me that Santa was an idea, not a real person, and the spirit of the season was to show people you appreciate them and give back to the community around you. I was more worried that I would get less presents if Santa wasn’t giving them to me anymore.
“I gathered up all these stories from everyone in Jackson, of all faiths and beliefs, and you can read through them and see how everyone celebrates.” You lean down now, speaking quieter. “There’s no right way, and no one person celebrates the same as everyone else. The one thing that does stay the same is that it’s a time to show love to the people around you.” 
Joel’s eyes roam the shelves, spotting a Hanukkah-themed scene and something with bright colors he doesn’t recognize. Pages of script torn from your notepad tuck behind Santa figurines and menorahs and little wooden shoes. Ellie picks up another slip of paper. 
“Wait, there are elves?”
You shrug, straightening up and catching Joel’s eye. He gives a lopsided smile as you’re pulled away by someone else entering, a twinkling light in the night surrounding Jackson. 
A time to show love to the people around you? Maybe he can finally pluck up the courage to do that.
“Okay, everyone with an ornament please come up to the tree! Not too many at one time!” you call out, and Joel’s heart jumps into his throat. He pulls the packet from under his arm, hoping that maybe a bunch of kids would rush to the front, but everyone is reluctant to be the first. You stand by the tree, a shimmer of trepidation on your face, and Joel takes the first step.
“Brought these for…for the tree,” he says, handing the rough package to her. He should have put a bow on it, but he already wrestled with the packaging too long, he didn’t think he had the nerve to make it look any more like a gift. All eyes are on you as you unfold the wrapping, eyes darting up to Joel like he’s playing a trick, but when six delicate snowflakes are revealed a murmur of chatter fills the room. Your eyebrows lift, eyes lighting up and he wishes he’d given it to you alone. He wants your appreciation and surprise and happiness all for himself, even as the whispers, “oh wows,” and “good job, Joels,” waft to his ears. 
“Joel, these are amazing,” you breathe, lifting one of the snowflakes out to dangle on your fingers. A smattering of applause he doesn’t deserve deepens his blush, but he takes the praises as graciously as possible. “I’m…thank you so much. I’m going to put them on, please everyone! Bring your ornaments up!” The snap into something much cheerier and brighter flutters Joel’s heart, catching a brief shine in your eye as you busy yourself adding his ornaments to the tree. 
Could he go to you in the hubbub of people now approaching, lay a hand on your shoulder and envelope you in his arms? The ache to do so is close to a real animal in his chest begging to be touched. Instead he hangs back as kids hang dried apples and garland, painted baubles and all varieties of crafts. Wooden birds with real plumage, tiny knitted mittens, worn pictures encased in resin. His eyes draw to Ellie, sidling up next to you to hang her name ornament. You help her pick a spot, and Joel can see how you praise the design, and add some reassuring words. Standing back from the tree Ellie leans against you, and you wrap an arm around her shoulders. 
The world slows around them, frozen in time under Joel’s watchful eye. He blinks, capturing a mental photo of this moment. He’ll look back on it often, the way Ellie both looks so much like a child but also so grown. How you give her kindness and support in as quiet of a way as she’ll accept, rewarded with her ease. And the feeling in his own chest, expanding and swelling like his heart could never fit his body again.
“Look outside!” calls one of the younger children, and the crush of people move from the tree to the windows at the front of the schoolhouse. Craning his neck, Joel catches the lights strung around town starting to click on, brilliant bubbles of amber light dissipating the darkness. A murmur kicks up, and the tree sparkles to life with colorful pops illuminating every memory adorning its branches. There’s cheering and clapping again, this time well deserved, and Ellie’s face brightens as her name sways gently with all of the others. 
“There’s more!” someone cheers, and the front door opens to guide the group out and onto the frigid streets. Ellie’s head whips around, eyes pleading, and Joel can only nod with feigned annoyance as she rushes out.
“Put on your hat…” he calls after her, but if she hears she gives no indication. In a moment the schoolhouse is empty of all but you and him. Joel glimpses more lights leading the people of Jackson through the town center, noise dulling to a comforting hum. 
You’re still in front of the tree, admiring the final product. Joel takes a deep breath and slowly approaches, standing beside you in comfortable silence. You take in a big breath of your own and blow it out, satisfaction painting your features.
“Every year it seems like it’ll never get done, and yet it always comes together,” you say, bumping shoulders with Joel. He snorts and smiles, taking in all of the chaotic beauty of the decorations.
“Meant a lot to Ellie that you did all this,” he says, tossing his head back at the written history you compiled. You cock your head at him thoughtfully. 
“It got me thinking, you know. What’s important to everyone, now that we’re here after everything?” Your eyes search the tree, Joel’s following. “For me, it was my dad. We called him Father Christmas. Loved the holidays, was excited for them every year.” Your fingers find a red plastic boot nestled in the boughs. “When we got to Jackson he was so excited to be around people again, to feel that community. He brought Christmas back for lots of people.” A watery sigh signals Joel to lean closer, fitting his arm snugly around your waist. It’s never felt more right to hold someone. “The years since he’s passed have been hard to keep this all up, but it’s also the closest I feel to him.” 
Joel reaches into his pocket, Sarah’s ornament in the palm of his hand. Ellie’s has a perfect spot next to it, and he tucks them together amongst the lights. Fresh spruce tickles his nostrils as he arranges them just so.
“My daughter,” Joel says, and it may be the first time he’s offered this part of himself up willingly. “Lost her on the day it all went to hell. She loved the holidays too, always wanted to see real snow. You know, like something out of a Norman Rockwell.” The rest of the words he wants to say stick in his throat, but it’s enough. You turn to him, sliding a hand up his arm to squeeze it gently. A knowing smile curves your lips, tempting as hot cocoa after a cold day.
“Thank you, Joel. For the ornaments, for being here. For everything.”
His body steps into yours, pulling you close. Your eyes widen briefly, then your expression becomes hopeful.
“Thought maybe I was being obvious, around all the time looking for a reason to be where you are,” Joel muses, finally bold enough to cup your cheek. Leaning into it, you fit your body into his.
“Maybe I thought it was too good to be true,” you say, a tiny brush of his thumb over your lips startling a breath out. 
“Pretty sure it’s me who’s been feelin’ that way, darlin’,” Joel teases, but the yearning in your eyes tells him he’s got to say it now. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for…so goddamn long.”
Then your hand winds into his nape, and your lips meet.
You’re as soft as he hoped, yielding to his firmer press but bold when he parts his lips and your tongue begs entrance. A choked moan dies in his throat as cinnamon and apple dances on his palate, cradling your head so he can deepen the kiss. The grip on his hair tightens, your other hand fisted in his flannel. He wraps around you, protector, devotee, your body and soul safe with him.
Your lips part regretfully, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath. Beating him to composure, you tilt your chin to press a kiss to a spot on his jaw where his beard is a little thin.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you here for so long,” you repeat, breathy giggles rippling through you both. Joel dips in to claim your lips again, softer, slower. Your arms wind around his neck, and if he wasn’t keenly aware that at any moment someone could wander back in he would have laid you out to explore with his lips and teeth and tongue. His calmer head prevailed.
“Darlin’, I wouldn’t ask you for a single other thing, Christmas or not, if you’d say you’ll be mine,” he asks, heart on the line as he hopes you feel the magic of this moment just as much. Your eyes crinkle, fingers stroking through his hair.
“Joel Miller, nothing would make me happier,” you answer, earning another sweetly spicy kiss. When you part again, you say, “Well, except…”
Joel’s heart hammers, eyebrows knitting up in concern.
“...I could use help putting the star on my tree tonight. The one in my bedroom?” 
A mischievous smile darts onto Joel’s face, playfully squeezing your ass.
“And how tall is this tree? Should I bring my ladder?”
You tap your chin thoughtfully.
“Maybe two, three feet?”
Joel nods with understanding.
“Of course, we should take care of that immediately.”
“Immediately.”
Hand in hand, you exit the schoolhouse, leaving it unlocked in case anyone wants to come bask in the holiday cheer later in the evening. Looking down the main street, Jackson is lit like a beacon of hope. Children toss snowballs at each other while parents watch on and laugh. Ellie is talking to a girl her age, shyly extending a paper-wrapped gift. A beautiful, kind woman is holding his hand and if his back were better he’d throw her over his shoulder in his haste to get her alone. 
And in the darkest of times, when the days are short and cold and hope runs thin, there is still so much love to share.
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A/N: the ornaments Joel makes were inspired by a gift I got a few years back. These handmade ornaments are some of my favorites every year!
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