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atticrissfinch · 19 days

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Alright with a Slow Burn | (joel miller x reader) (18+)

A Bonus Meet Me in the Back Oneshot

[Moodboard for aesthetic purposes only]

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Just a casual cockwarming competition on a weekend afternoon. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), size!kink, daddy!kink, degradation!kink, cockwarming, unprotected piv, creampie, assplay, clothes-ripping, brief spitting, v brief over-the-pants footjob action ig, bad casino metaphors, some friendly competition with stakes <3, Olivia Benson appearance, random fluffy moments??? word count: ~5.4K | ao3 a/n: surprise! a dirty little oneshot for you. this takes place a while after part 6, probably a couple months post. title is from Slow Burn by Kacey Musgraves which feels very fitting for them.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

You love when Joel has a weekend night off of work. Your schedules are so misaligned, you often find yourselves stealing frantic early evenings together between your workday ending and his beginning.

The more you’ve taken Joel inside you the more your body molds to him — craves him on the daily. He still takes your breath away each time he enters you, and he still swears up and down about how tight you are every goddamn time. It’s symbiosis at its finest as far as you’re concerned. A mutually beneficial, delicious destruction of your respective selves at the hands of the other.

You fuck and you chill. You chill then you fuck. It’s a lazy cycle, but it works.

Right now you’re relaxing, Joel sitting on the couch and you lounging with your legs draped over his lap. Olivia Benson is solving especially heinous crimes on Joel’s crappy television, filling the leisurely silence of the trailer with a marathon of your shared comfort show. Joel had slept until 2 PM, as is his standard. You’d found yourself at his door as soon as he was once again alive to the world. There’s something about you appearing on his doorstep in fully done face, hair, and dress with him scruffy and bleary-eyed in nothing but joggers that sets your heart alight.

You like him simple, uncomplicated. You bring enough complications of your own. He’s a welcome reprieve with unceasingly open arms and a predictably hard cock. There’s not much more you could ask for.

Joel rubs circles into your ankle with his thumb, occasionally slipping down to the sole of your foot to apply pressure to the arch. Quiet moans of approval creep out of you at the treatment, and you can feel Joel responding to your sounds against your lower leg.

“Hi there,” you giggle, pressing the side of your calf into the initial stages of his bulge.

Joel’s grin gives way to a shallow grunt at the friction, and he clasps a hand around your ankle.

“Better be careful. Snake’s gonna start rattlin’.”

“Well, they don’t call me the snake charmer for nothing,” you joke, sliding your leg over his crotch again.

Joel snorts, quirking his brow. “They call you that, do they?”

“Yes they do,” you assert, nodding resolutely. “I get yours dancing easily enough.”

Joel exhales a laugh through his nose and squeezes your ankle. “Someone’s gettin’ a little big for her britches, ain’t she?”

“I’m not the one bursting the seams of my pants right now,” you retort, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel clears his throat and readjusts his seat, nonchalantly fixing his dick inside his joggers. “Don’t know what you’re jawin’ on about. I am one hundred percent unaffected by those sexy little moans of yours.”

“Oh yeah?” You challenge with a smirk, entirely unconvinced. You bend your leg and inch your foot back slowly, placing it directly onto his growing erection. The arch of your foot starts to massage him gently and Joel’s eyes drift closed for a mere moment before he snaps them back open.

“Yup,” Joel responds matter-of-factly, while noticeably avoiding your eyes.

“Mmm,” you hum, nodding and feeling Joel harden rapidly under your dedicated ministrations. “You, the same man who has never seen me and not popped a boner at some point during the interaction?”

“Don’t know who you're talkin' about,” Joel dismisses, attention honed in on the screen in front of him, but you can see the corner of his mouth fluctuating and his fist clenching at his side.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as your grin broadens. “Daddy?”

“Mmm?” Joel answers, like he’s afraid if he opens his mouth again, his whole cover will be blown and a much more vulgar sound will escape.

“You’re hard as a rock right now.”

Joel finally glances down at his crotch and swears. “Fine. You got me. You happy?”

“I will be soon,” you say with a shit-eating grin adorning your face.

Joel rolls his eyes and tugs at your arm, hauling you up onto his lap. “Come here, you little temptress.”

You giggle, swinging a leg over his and sitting on top of his undeniable arousal and grabbing onto the back of the couch. Joel’s smile matches yours now, eyes going hooded as he revels in having you in his lap once again — where you’re pretty sure he would like you to be at all times.

You dip your head down, stopping just short of your lips becoming one, and whisper, “This position familiar enough for you, big boy?”

Joel’s expression crumbles, a defeated moan pushing out his throat before he’s closing the distance with gusto, clutching the back of your head and burying his fingers in your hair as his tongue intertwines with yours.

You sigh into his mouth with a pleasurable sound of your own and begin rocking your hips down onto his straining cock. “Turn the TV off,” you utter against his lips. “Feels weird to fuck with this show in the background.”

The breath from Joel’s laugh puffs over your face as he snatches up the remote and hits the power button. The room goes quiet, save for the sound of your increased breathing and a barking dog outside. Joel’s hands run over the sides of your calves and the tops of your thighs until he reaches the hem of your sundress. Joel already knows what he’ll find underneath, but he moves it up glacially, building the tension rising in your bones.

“Lean back on your hands,” Joel instructs with soft authority.

You plant your palms solidly on the coffee table close behind you and lean back as your dress rucks up along with Joel’s upward movements. When the skirt hem meets your hips and reveals your lack of panties, Joel exhales heavily out his nose and shakes his head incredulously. “Perfect every time.”

You spread your knees further apart on either side of him and bait him with, “So make it not so perfect.”

“Not possible,” Joel mutters reverently, sliding a thumb between your glistening lips and stroking up from your dripping entrance to your throbbing clit. “Perfect now, different kinda perfect when she’s full o’me.”

“Joel, that is so…filthily sweet,” you admit, your voice pitching higher as his thumb makes another pass up the line of your cunt.

“Ain’t never wanna be nothin’ but that with you, sugarplum,” Joel replies huskily, spreading your outer lips with his middle and pointer fingers as he deftly works his cock out from his pants, tucking the elastic band under his balls. His length slaps weightily against his bare stomach and your pussy pulses in response.

Joel’s mouth shift for a moment, his cheeks concaving slightly, and then he reaffirms the spread of your lips and spits down onto your already dripping pussy.

You moan at the gesture and roll your hips onto Joel’s fingers as he rubs his saliva around your lips and pushes it into your waiting hole. “Put your cock in me, daddy.”

“So excited for him,” Joel chuckles lightly, but slides a supportive arm around your back for you to push yourself upright and fully into his lap again.

A gasp leaves you as your bare pussy descends on the underside of his exposed cock for the first time today and adds pressure to your clit. You allow yourself to grind on him a few times as you press your lips to his ear and say, “I’m gonna drop it down on you so good, daddy. I know how much you love this pussy.”

“I do love this pussy,” Joel sighs, his hands gripping your hips as you grind, “But I’ve got a little idea for you.”

“An idea?” You ask breathily.

“A little wager.”

Your hips still in his lap and you rear back to take in his expression. He’s got a mischievous look on his face as his thumbs stroke at the tops of your thighs.

“What kind of wager?” You ask skeptically.

“If I win, I get something I want. If you win, you get something you want.”

You furrow your brows at him. “You’re putting your cock in me. We both win in that scenario.”

“And what if I just put my cock in you? And I don’t do nothin’ else?”

“Like you’re not gonna move?” You ask, perplexed.

“That’s right.”

“So how do you win?”

“First person to give in. To start beggin’. To start movin’.”

“And you really think I can’t handle that?”

“Oh, baby, I know you can’t handle that.”

You scrunch your face up at him. “Rude.”

“Now, now, you said it yourself. I’m about to put my big fat daddy meat inside you. That don’t sound rude to me,” he chides, gripping his cock with his hand and stroking it to maintain his erection as you work through his proposition.

You roll your eyes. “Ok. What are the stakes?”

“What do you want, baby?”

You mull over a few ideas in your brain, humming thoughtfully as you parse through them, until you arrive on one. “You have to go to see Les Mis with me when it comes to town next month.”

Joel’s nose crinkles immediately. “Ain’t that the one where all those sad people singin’ and cryin’ about bein’ sad for five hours?”

“Three hours. You’ll survive. And I’ll let you fuck me to tears afterward if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Deal,” Joel whips out immediately, and you laugh at his haste.

“Ok. What do you want?”

And Joel is already locked and loaded with his answer. “You let me fuck your pretty, puckered backdoor.”

“Joel,” you groan, elongating the vowels in dreadful hesitance.

“Within the next two months,” Joel negotiates, cupping your face with his palm. “I’ll give you time. We’ll prep you real good before we do it. I just need to shove my cock into that juicy forbidden fruit at least once, babygirl. I gotta. Please let me.”

You know how badly he wants this. You’ve known he’s wanted it for a long time. But he’s just so huge. You have no idea how you’re going to fit him, and you mean that so honestly. But people do it, right? He’s done it with other women. He’s told you about them. It’s possible.

And shit. You are curious. You want to see if you could take it.

You sigh and say, “Two months. Lots of prep. And I can say to stop at any time.”

“Of course, baby.”

“Ok,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Deal.”

Joel’s eyes brighten with heartbreaking earnesty, a smile breaking across his face. “Really? Deal?”

“Don’t ask me again,” you advise sternly. “I said deal. Put your cock inside me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies hurriedly, giddily, guiding your hips up and positioning his cock at the entrance of your cunt. “Make it count, baby. Ain’t gonna feel me rubbin’ on them pussy walls again for a long time if I got anything to say about it.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you taunt, taking just the head of him inside you as you drag out the descent. “I know how you get when you’re buried inside me.”

“And how am I?” Joel banters back, his hands flexing on your hips as you sink down another inch.

A lazy smile cracks across your face as you poise your lips at his ear again. “Rutting into me like a mangy mutt until you get your nut out. Like your only purpose in life is to breed me like your bitch.”

Joel grunts at your words, his fingers digging into your flesh as you continue to slide down onto him. “So we’re playin’ dirty, are we?”

You laugh softly in his ear and say, “Don’t remember us ever playing any other way, daddy.” You give a sharp nip to his earlobe and hear him moan.

“Such a naughty fuckin’ girl,” Joel purrs, slipping a hand up your torso and between your tits until he’s cupping your neck delicately. No pressure, just a reassurance of his presence and a daring power move. You hum into the crook of his neck as you finally bottom out, your ass flush with his thighs and the tip of his cock nestled as deep as he can reach in this position.

Joel’s hand glides from your throat to your jaw and guides your face back up to his, his nose nudging yours as he says, “Let the games begin, baby.”

Your mouths fall into each other so naturally like this now, Joel always searching for your lips when he’s breaking you apart, like that will hold your pieces together. When the kisses grow deeper, you have to police your own movements carefully, resisting the urge to roll down onto him as the passion ramps up between you.

Coming up for air is bittersweet, knowing you can’t compensate for the loss of contact with renewed vigor in your hips. You gasp when you feel Joel’s cock flex inside you.

“That’s not allowed,” you whine, leaning your forehead against his and tucking your fingers into the hair at the back of his head as he smirks at his little loophole.

“Ain’t grindin’, ain’t movin’. Not against the rules.”

“You’re making shit up.”

“Am not.”

You groan a little as he flexes again, racking your brain for an idea until you come up with your own sweet revenge. Silently thanking your kegel exercises, you focus your muscles to contract around his cock in retaliation.

Joel groans in response, his head falling back against the top of the couch. “Fuck me, you little devil. That’s so fuckin’ not fair.”

“All’s fair in love, war, and sex wagers,” you tease, squeezing around him again just to hear him grunt again.

“Well, I’m callin’ a truce then,'' Joel says, nipping at your bottom lip. “I don’t move him, you don’t squeeze her.”

“Fine. Truce accepted.”

“Good girl.”

You hum and capture his lips again, sighing as he eagerly melts into you once more. Your pussy feels full, in a sensation that is both incredibly frustrating and oddly satisfying. You’ve longed for a simplified scenario of this for a while — to just exist with his cock stretching you open until your pussy doesn’t remember how it’s ever felt any other way. For time to pass and your bodies to remain as one. For him to take root inside you, cast out tendrils that affix to your walls and imprint their memory in the plush welcome of your cunt. This ever-present, almost anxious instinct to entreat your body to remember him and how he makes you feel.

This wasn’t exactly how you imagined it happening, a silly competitive sex game, but you’ll take it. This route seems much more organically Joel than anything else would anyway.

Your lips part from each other again and you rest your head on his shoulder, a sneaking suspicion that the two of you will be in this for the long haul. Joel’s hands slip under your dress and up your back, thumbs grazing back and forth at the sides of your tits.

“‘S kinda nice,” Joel mutters into your hair.

“It is. Unexpected side effect of our competitiveness, I guess,” you reply, words slightly warped by your cheek smushed against his shoulder. “Better not go soft on me, old man.”

“Can’t help it. You make me a little soft,” he says, a bit of solemnity in his voice.

You feel your heart flip over in your chest for a moment at his words. “Oh. I—I mean. I meant something much less appropriate than that, but…”

Joel expels a brief laugh and shifts his thumbs to your nipples, fussing with them as they harden under his attention. “I think you know, little sugarplum, that you’ve made me hard in the cock and soft in the heart for a hot minute now.”

“Shut up,” you mumble bashfully, but you close in and place a kiss onto the side of his neck. “Say something dirty, please. You’re actually going to go soft at this rate.”

Joel laughs again and tweaks your nipples between his fingers, making you squeak quietly in cheery arousal.

“You wanna know my favorite part of tearin’ up this tiny slit?”

Your giggle mingles with a moan as he shifts tone so effortlessly at your behest, but indulge him. “What, daddy?”

Joel’s hands skip down to the creases of your hip and thigh, rough fingertips running over the divots in your skin where you’ve sat on him for what feels like ages. “When I fuck into you just right and I feel your tight little snatch clamp down on my cock. Jesus.”

You whimper into his neck, actively fighting your body’s need to grind on him, ride him until he loses control and spills inside you.

Joel groans himself as he recounts his memories of you and him together. “Or when I’m hittin’ it so deep you can’t say a goddamn thing. No fuckin words, no slutty little sounds. Just braindead on my fuckin’ pussy pounder like the dick-drunk cumslut you are.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine against him, nails biting into the back of his neck as your hips scream at you to move. “You can’t say shit like that to me and not…”

“Not what, baby? Do some pussy pounding? You want Daddy Joel to treat you like a whore, sugarplum? He ain’t do that enough? He too nice to you?”

You moan as you feel wetness flowing out around Joel’s cock at his words. Joel really is usually so nice to you with only a few exceptions. He’s dirty and filthy, but he’s become annoyingly respectful to a degree. “I want you to treat me like a whore, daddy.”

“Poor baby,” Joel placates, raking his nails lightly over the tops of your exposed thighs until you shiver. “Better watch what you’re wishin’ for. Your resolve's lookin’ a bit shaky. And you wouldn’t wanna lose, would you?”

One of Joel’s hands drifts behind you, dipping a finger down between your cheeks and ghosting directly over the site of his potential earnings if you don’t pull your shit together.

You swear quietly and regroup, taking a deep breath. “Not a fucking chance, old man.”

Joel chuckles tauntingly, gripping your asscheek in his hand before relinquishing you and settling his hands back at your hips.

“Can you put on the TV or something so I can distract myself?” You whine, placing your hands on his chest.

Joel puts on a mocking pout and says, “Aww, you need a distraction from daddy’s cock filling you up? Are you daddy’s little bunny rabbit? Just need to bounce, bounce, bounce?”

“Fuck you,” you grumble, burying your face in his neck again. “How is this so fucking easy for you?”

“Who said it’s easy for me?”

“You’re just acting so breezy about this.”

“I still got it up, ain’t I?”

He is still rock hard. You can assess that with no trouble. You’re filled to the brim with him, and you imagine that his precome is coating the entrance of your cervix with how perfectly he’s made his home there.

“Yeah, very much so,” you admit.

Joel’s thumb strokes over your cheek delicately. “Believe me. As long as I’m hard, stayin’ still inside you ain’t gonna be easy for me. My goddamn brain is programmed to bust your fuckin’ walls down.”

“And you do it so well,” you coo, snaking your hand down between the two of you and slotting it into the small opening between your converging hips until your fingers are in reach of his ballsack.

The moment your fingers graze against the sensitive skin, Joel releases a helpless sound. “Oh, sugar, you can’t—” His words are cut off with a deep moan as your hand lightly contracts around his balls.

“Ain’t grindin’, ain’t movin’,” you imitate poorly back at him, cupping his sack and softly massaging the skin between them as he bites his lip and groans at your devious discovery.

“When I win, that little cock box ain’t gonna know what hit it when I’m done with you, little girl. And that asshole’s gonna be puckerin’ in fear knowin’ I’m gonna ream it out just as hard when the time comes,” Joel threatens, the severity of his words significantly weakened by the pitiful desperation in his voice.

“Big talk for a man I’ve got by the balls right now,” you deride with an impish grin, kneading the rounded pair of flesh in your palm, dutifully enough that it makes him keen. You feel the head of his cock twitch against your insides, and you’re fairly certain it was unintentional on his part. “Daddy’s getting a little excited in there, isn’t he?”

“Smug little shit,” he retorts, inhaling deeply through his nose to ground himself while in your clutches. Too lost in the amusement you’ve found in toying with Joel’s testicles, you nearly jerk up on his cock when you feel a spit-slick finger prodding at your unoccupied hole. “Still feelin’ smug?”

“Joel, don’t that’s—ohh,” your words trail off in a moan and your hand stalls below his cock when the tip of Joel’s finger pushes past the ring of muscle to the first knuckle.

“Said we were playin’ dirty,” Joel says huskily, wriggling his encased fingertip in a coaxing circle around the rim of your asshole from inside, pulling a whimper from you. “Figured I’d play where my whore is dirtiest.”

“That’s fucked up,” you argue breathily as his finger pops languidly in and out of your clenching hole. You give a slightly tighter squeeze to Joel’s ballsack and feel his cock twitch again. “You can’t pilfer through the goods before you’ve won. I should make you sit through my shitty rendition of I Dreamed a Dream if that’s how you’re gonna play.”

“Sing your heart out, little songbird. Ain’t gonna get you any closer to winnin’,” Joel says, voice straining against the pleasure you’re driving with your dexterous hold on him.

You whine as your body wrestles with being penetrated in two holes at once by Joel, your clit throbbing at the delicious noises Joel is making at your hands-on treatment, and you feel your determination dwindling by the second. You have no idea how long Joel has until he breaks, and your brain and body are screaming at you to allow this man to do what he does best and let him rearrange your guts with unbridled ferocity.

You know you could convince him to go to Les Mis with you regardless.

And you‘ve been planning on gifting him anal soon anyway. But he doesn’t need to know that. You can let him think he won it from you.

You don’t give a shit about the competition anymore.

You just need to get dicked down.

So you finally blow the whistle, wave the white flag with a, “Fuck it,” and smash your lips against his, ratcheting your hips back and forth like a snapped rubber band.

Joel’s reactionary groan is loud and raspy as his fingers sink into the meat of your ass, hauling you with impassioned movements to assist in your primal need to make up for lost time.

“Fucking finally,” he growls into your mouth, starting to lift your hips and pull you back down onto his length as you moan like a shameless whore at the friction. “‘Boutta make you the sorest fuckin’ loser this side o’the Miss’ssippi, sweetheart.”

“Do it,” you cry out, pressing your foreheads together as your fingers tug at the hair on the nape of his neck and you begin to bounce on his cock with all the tenacity you brought to your stupid competition. “Fucking destroy me, daddy.”

You feel like your cervix is bruising from each punch of his cock inside you, from the way he’s yanking you down on him while fucking up into you with a deafening grunt on every thrust. He gives a final, punishing thrust before pulling you off his cock entirely and nudging you back.

“Get on the fuckin’ floor. On your back.”

You narrowly miss smacking your head on the coffee table in your haste, scrambling down to the carpet and falling onto your back for him. Joel loses his sweats in no time flat, swiping them across his sweat-dappled forehead and tossing them to the side before kneeling between your spread legs.

Joel’s fists clench around the rounded neck of your sundress as he looks you dead in the eye. “You love this dress?”

You swallow and shake your head vigorously. Even if you did, you didn’t give a single fuck in this moment what happened to it. Which is fortuitous, because Joel rasps out a single low grunt and the cotton dress tears like tissue paper at his hands. He rips it right down the center, collar to hem, the straps over your shoulders the only fabric keeping it attached to your body. But Joel, having revealed precisely what he wanted, doesn’t bother with further destruction.

He just takes a few moments to drag his eyes up and down your now fully exposed body, nipples peaked and hard, pussy spread, stretched, and drenched, and your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath for the brief, heavy few seconds you’re sharing before he pounds you into oblivion.

You remember the last time he ripped clothing of yours. That very first time in the backroom when he wrenched your panties clean off your bottom half to give himself unfettered access to your enticing offer. It feels appropriate that the second time he wrecks your wardrobe is to once again lay claim to his spoils.

You love feeling conquered by him. Vanquished.

There really wasn’t much of a point in you winning. He’d won a long time ago. The moment he sunk into you the first time. You were done for.

Joel corrals your legs onto his shoulders, folding you in half as a balancing hand appears next to your head on the shag carpet and the other guides his cock to your waiting heat.

He notches at your opening and looks down at you, halting there. “Tell daddy he won.”

You whimper at the tease of his thick, slickened head at your hole, but concede with no ambiguity, “You won, daddy.”

Your mouth falls open in a breathy gasp as he splits you open around him again, pressing back in to the hilt with no resistance. The hair at Joel’s base prickles at your folds, dampening them with your accumulated wetness. His hands bracket your head as he drops down to steal a sloppy kiss from your lips, sucking your blatant arousal off your tongue.

“Daddy’s gonna enjoy your little slot machine, baby. Heard she’s as loose as a fuckin’ whore in Vegas.”

“She feel loose to you?” You counter, squeezing around his cock again, now that you’re free to do so.

Joel groans, retracting his hips inch by inch, pausing with a smirk to say, “Sure feels like a jackpot to me,” before plunging back inside you.

He hits so different from this angle, and you never seem to remember just how much until he dives in. You feel winded on the first thrust, but it’s an addictive sort of high. It’s like he’s got a hand around your throat, commanding your breath with his strokes, but, as disgusting as it is, the only hold he has on you in this moment is your heart.

Maybe you’re “dickmatized” as your friends say, but you can’t help but think that with a cock like his, it’s so easy to fall for this man. And then he follows it up with attentiveness and affection, and it feels like a fucking rabbit hole you’re tumbling down. Only he has ever been able to steal your breath with his dick, and then steal it again with his sincerity, just to breathe you back to life when you see him again.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating, two sides of the same coin that seems to be spinning indefinitely. Part of you wishes Joel would catch it, flip it onto the back of his hand, and reveal the result for you. But he would never do that on your behalf. So you just let it spin.

The buildup has Joel relentless in his mission to show you just why you lost to him, and what you were missing by thinking you could win. Although, you have a sneaking suspicion that he fabricated this entire game to all but guarantee his chances at exploring your “forbidden fruit” as he’d called it. You can’t fault him for that. The man is clever.

The noises falling from your lips are unfiltered and raw. You couldn’t restrain them if you tried. Joel’s cock is mind-numbingly agonizing, slamming into you with undeniable intent to demolish you. You’re vaguely aware of the scrape of Joel’s flesh under your fingernails as they rake for purchase on his back, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Joel is definitely babbling to you, but with all the noise in your brain it’s fragmented as it meets your ears.

“…pussy’s so…chokin’…big cock…lucky girl…rolled daddy’s snake eye, didn’t ya…”

Your eyes are rolling around in your skull as he hammers into the end of you with unfathomable stamina. Joel offers what you sense are filthy encouragements as your pussy welcomes the onslaught and your sounds begin to fail you, exactly as he said happens when he’s fucking you just right. Your mouth lies open with nothing to fill it, even your own vocalizations.

You can feel two rough fingers on your clit, but it’s blurred on the edges of your mind. Your brain doesn’t comprehend it, but your body does, because you can feel it seizing, clenching in preparation for the inevitable release. And release it does, your back arching off the ground, forcing the last remnants of sound from your throat in a final, high-pitch whimper as your vision flashes white and your hearing goes staticky.

You think you hear a telling groan from Joel indicating his own completion, but it gets lost in the haze. Your body comes back to you in gradual sections. You feel your fingers first, still earthed in Joel’s back like they were dead-set on drawing blood — which they may well have done. Then up your arms and down your abdomen, where you soon recognize the press of Joel’s face in your neck and his hot, panting breath over your skin. The sensation in your feet trickles back to you and you pinpoint them locked in a vice grip around Joel with your heels still digging into his ass like the masochist you’ve spectated yourself becoming since you met Joel.

You find your voice again, and it feels like sandpaper, but you’re compelled to ask, “Wait, did you already come?”

Joel breathes a laugh into your neck. “Like Jesus Christ himself, sweetheart.”

“No, I missed it,” you groan, dragging out the first word in disappointment.

“‘S alright, baby,” Joel consoles, stroking down your hip soothingly. “There’ll be a million more where that came from if I got anythin’ to say about it.”

You flex your pelvic muscles to suss out the situation down there. It feels empty, evidence of the gaping absence of him. You clench, and your pussy might as well be crying. To be refilled, to be left alone. To lick its own wounds, to have more inflicted before you even bother. And then there’s the drip of him from inside you, a crude balm to the aching gash between your legs. The only remedy that you think—that you hope—you’ll ever need with him.

Your orgasm had clearly taken you out of commission for a few minutes, because Joel’s cock already lies completely flaccid against your stomach, rung dry by the iron grip of your cunt. Joel’s lips find yours and it’s messy and perfect. Like an ardent forgiveness for your self-imposed sin of not witnessing his achieved euphoria. It’s healing precisely where you need it to heal.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you sigh, your limbs going limp around him, sliding off to land where feels natural. One of those places happens to be your hand intertwining with his.

Joel’s grin presses into your neck as he plants a kiss there. He slips his free hand around the curve of your ass, fingers dipping into the split of your cheeks in a cruel foreshadow, chuckling as he says, “Hope you’re still sayin’ that when I cash in my chips.”

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ineffable-suffering · 8 months

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #story of job #job minisode #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #my own meta

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mvybanks · 8 months

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THE DEAL — chapter seven

a/n: i know i was supposed to post this ages ago but i just finished it (even though a part of me didn’t want to :( ). this is the last chapter and i really hope that you guys liked it! thank you for all the love on this series, i had so much fun writing it. i may or may not already be writing an epilogue so let me know if you would be interested in that👀 i love you MWAH <33

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, mentions of sex (if you squint), injuries, angst, hospital, fighting, blood and lots of fluff

word count: 5.8k

pairing: frat!rafe x innocent friend!reader

nav the deal masterlist

add yourself to my taglist <3 (if you want to be added only to the taglist of series you can specify it in the end note of the form!)

The sound of the ambulance siren filled your ears and matched the thrumming of your pulse as you attempted to keep your tears at bay — unsuccessfully. Everything around you seemed heightened and you only wished to be in his arms, to be held and taken care of like only Rafe knew how.

Your arm hurt badly, you couldn’t move it, and whenever you tried to, the pain was blinding and froze every muscle in your body, which was sore and still in shock. You couldn’t believe what he had done and the more you thought about it, the more tears spilled from your eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, the last words that you had said into your phone’s microphone, kept replaying in the receiver’s head like a mantra as he hoped he had heard you wrong.

“They’re taking me to the hospital, Rafe.”

“They’re taking me to the hospital.”

Hospital.

A shudder had ran down his spine at those words while the worst scenarios began to fill his mind. The thought of you being in pain was enough for his body to start working on its own, taking him to his vehicle as he pressed his phone to his ear to calm himself only by listening to the sound of your breaths.

“I’ll be there in two minutes, baby, okay?” He was finally able to say as he sat down, “I’m in the car. Can you wait for me?”

His voice was laced with that sweet tone of his that normally would’ve made your knees feel weak, but you needed his touch, so much that even his reassuring words weren’t enough. “Yes, just —“ You took a shaky breath, “I’m sorry…for what I did, what I said-“

“Ssh,” he shushed you softly, interrupting your apology, “none of that right now, baby, alright?”

He had to be strong for you, had to see clear and drive as fast as he could’ve to the hospital because if he didn’t have you in his arms in the next ten minutes, he would’ve needed an ambulance himself. The car was already in motion when he heard you whisper into the phone, “I’m scared.”

His stomach dropped for the third time that day and at that point, he considered himself lucky if he hadn’t had a heart attack yet. He would’ve given up every single penny in the world to hold you. “I know, I know, angel. I’m coming. Hang on for me.”

Your heart seemed to calm down at his words, and the nickname, almost as if you knew you were safe only by listening to him. “I have to hang up. They said I - I have to put my phone away now.” Gnawing on your split bottom lip, you grimaced at the taste of blood and that unsettling feeling came back to haunt you. “Rafe, I’m so scared.”

Pushing his foot on the gas pedal harder, Rafe gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Two minutes and I’m there, baby. You can hang up, you’re gonna see me soon, okay?”

You nodded weakly, then you remembered that he couldn’t see you and whispered, “Okay…bye.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

You were talking, you were breathing and were being rational. You were okay. That was what he kept telling himself as he drove into the night. However, the actual only thought in his mind was that he was close to commit murder and was so ready for it that it was scary. If Matthew had laid one single finger on you, Rafe wasn’t going to hold himself back.

Stopping the car in front of the emergency room, he all but jumped outside of the vehicle and ran inside at the same time as a barrel was being wheeled in. Distinct voices were talking over each other, but he couldn’t make out the words as his eyes fell on your figure. Without thinking twice, he began to speed walk alongside the paramedics.

“Sir, you can’t —“

“Rafe?” Your soft voice woke him up from the trance that seeing you lying on a barrel had put him in.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m here.” He whispered, finally being able to cradle your face in his hands.

He placed his forehead on yours as you cried in his hands and he did everything in his power to hold his tears back. He didn’t want to give you any reason to feel more terrified, so he only let you sob while his thumbs tried to brush away the never ending tears. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “You’re okay, sweetheart.” With one hand, he ran his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away. “Sir, you can’t be here.” The doctor at his side attempted at telling him for the umpteenth time and she was more than close to call the security and have Rafe escorted out. “We need to bring her in for examination and X-Rays.”

Reluctantly, he turned his head to nod at the woman and then came back to you. Oh, but how could he have ever been able to leave you when you looked up at him like that.

“Don’t leave me, please.” You whimpered, his heart breaking at the knowledge that he had to do it for your own good.

“I’ll be right outside, okay? I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay here all night if it comes to it.”

He kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and although his lips ached to touch yours, he still wasn’t sure where you stood and what was happening, therefore, with every bit of strength he had left, he raised and let the doctors do their job. As he watched you being taken away from him and through the white doors that weren’t accessible to him, he made one promise to himself and he intended on keeping it: to never let you go again. He had been stupid enough to do it once and he would’ve been a fool to let that happen a second time.

His hands ran continuously on his head as he paced back and forth in the waiting room of the hospital. He seemed to be unable to find peace, his nervous state was making him want to scream and break something, anything, and the more it looked like Matthew Taylor, the better. He tried to sit down, his head between his palms as he stared at the ground, but it only made his leg bounce up and down constantly and obsessively until the man beside him sent him a glare, and he had to get up again.

“Y/N L/N?” The doctor asked as she exited a room and the sound of your name made his pulse quicken.

He all but ran to the woman wearing the white coat, and he began to ask questions, erratically. “I’m here for her! How is she? What happened? Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry, sir, are you family?”

He was stunned. What the hell was he supposed to say? “I — “ He sighed and hoped to God that she was going to be merciful, “I’m not, but please, I need to see her.”

The desperation in his voice was obvious and she couldn’t help but remember the moment she had seen him take your face in his hands and care for you, so she took a deep breath and nodded. “She’s really lucky with the dynamics of the incident. However, the exams showed a fractured wrist and a sprained ankle. She presents superficial wounds, but nothing serious and that painkillers won’t help. She seems to have a minor concussion but we’re not too worried about it. We could keep her here for observation tonight, however, I personally think that it’s not necessary, so we’ll leave the decision up to her.”

Rafe tried to wrap his head around the injuries, having completely tuned out the doctor. Lucky. How the hell was that lucky?!

“Breaking her wrist doesn’t seem very lucky…” He muttered, almost to himself, still deep in his thoughts.

The doctor cocked an eyebrow, “From what she’s told me about the incident, it could’ve been much worse.”

Was anyone going to tell him what the hell had happened to you or did he have to punch it out of your ex boyfriend?

“Thank you, doctor. Can I see her?” He finally asked.

She smiled politely, “You can, but don’t let too much light into the room and keep her calm, okay?”

“Of course.”

“She’s in room 305.” She said as she looked down at a clipboard in her hand.

He thanked her again while his feet were already taking him to the room you were resting in. The door was closed and the lights were off as he slowly walked in, trying not to make any loud sound.

Your eyes opened and immediately fell on the person that was entering the room, causing a smile to take over your features at the sight of Rafe.

“Hey, angel.” He whispered, striding until he stood in front of your bed. His eyes stung as he watched the cast on your arm and the elastic bandage around your elevated ankle. He diverted his eyes from your injuries and focused his attention on your face, which resulted in deepening his anger as his eyes scanned over the cut on your cheek and forehead, your split lip and the forming bruise under your eye. His fist closed on its own, his nails biting into his palm, before he finally decided to rest his hand on your cheek. “How’s my girl feeling?”

You leaned into his touch, “I feel sore everywhere.” You croaked.

Rubbing his thumb on your cheek, “I know, angel, I know,” he rasped, “how can I help you?”

You closed your eyes and rested your head further into his hand, appreciating the warmth of his touch. “Can you hold me?”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. He sat next to you and threw an arm on the pillow your head was resting on as he softly said, “C’mere.” Finally, you melted into him, letting him take you into his arms and kiss your temple. “How you feeling now?” He asked with his lips still pressed to your head.

You sighed happily, “Much better.”

“Good.” He smiled in relief.

“I’m sorry for calling you. You probably didn’t want to see me, I shouldn’t -“

“Hey, hey,” he interrupted you immediately, “I’m here. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, alright?”

You nodded and tried to hide your face in his neck, your new favorite place in the world. “Thank you, Rafe”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He sneaked his arm under your back, bringing you even closer to him, and began to rub your hip with his thumb. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

Shaking your head ‘no’, you nuzzled your head further into him, “‘m tired, just wanna sleep.”

He kissed your head once again, his lips restless from touching your skin whenever it was possible. “Let me take you home, mh?” He mumbled, “We can go back to my dorm, you can sleep there, if you want.”

“Will you stay with me?” You spoke softly against his skin.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

As Rafe called your doctor, helped you sign the papers in order to dismiss you and carefully listened to the nurse about what you were supposed to do and whatnot, you couldn’t believe that you had ever doubt the fact that he wasn’t boyfriend material. You were in awe of him and were so grateful that you had decided to leave your fears behind to choose him. You would’ve chosen him any day.

Once the nurse had wheeled you outside the hospital and towards Rafe’s car, he reminded both you and him to not put any weight on your ankle. The blue eyed man nodded and wordlessly unlocked the car doors. Then, he bent down to sneak one arm beneath your knees and the other around your waist, picking you up bridal style as you let out a surprised gasp. Your arms instinctively flew around his neck, one hand holding his shirt for dear life while your head relaxed against his shoulder. When he placed you in the passenger seat, you were reluctant to let go of him, and the medications that the doctor had given to you for your pain were making you feel so sleepy that you didn’t realize you were whining for him to not leave you.

Finally, he kissed your temple. “I’m right here, baby. Let’s go home.” He reassured you. His hand reached out for the seatbelt and buckled you in, making sure that you were safe before he carefully closed the car door. Thanking the nurse, he waved at him and quickly stepped into the driver’s seat. Your eyes were fixed on him, watching his every move as he sighed and threw his head against the headrest.

“You okay?” You whispered, turning your head towards him.

Sweet, droopy eyes were looking at him and he couldn’t help himself from raising his arm and tucked your hair behind your ear, before leaving his hand on your cheek. “That’s not important right now.” He rasped, not wanting to lie to you.

With your good hand, you placed your palm on top of his fingers, stroking his skin and placing a kiss on the heel of his hand. “You’re always important.”

Rafe could feel his heart beating fast in his chest as he leaned in and gently pulled your head closer. Your noses brushed and your tired eyelids closed down. The butterflies in your stomach replaced your previous fear and anxiety, while your breathing began to get heavier in anticipation. Finally, his lips touched yours, tenderly moving against yours as you kissed him with the same amount of need. The more heated and passionate the moment turned into, the more he tried to get closer to you, until his hand was on your waist and the other was holding himself up, while your fingernails scratched his scalp and itched to touch him under his shirt. His hold on you was delicate and yet possessive, showing you that you were his and he intended to keep it that way. Your fingers lightly caressed down his jaw, then his neck, causing him to groan in your mouth at the sensation. As he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, the sound of your breaths was the only one that filled the silence. Your gazes met and your eyes said more words than your mouth had ever had the guts to. So, instead of saying anything, you maintained eye contact as you reached for the hand that was resting on your hip, felt his fingers beneath your touch before you found what you were looking for. Silently, you slipped the ring off his finger and put it on your own, then placed your palm on his neck and pulled him closer for a short kiss.

“Rafe?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

His hand came up to brush some hairs out of your face, “For what, baby?”

“For taking care of me.”

Placing a kiss on your forehead, he murmured “I’ll always take care of you.”

Unwillingly, he sat back in his seat and started the car. Once he had gotten out of his parking spot, the hand that wasn’t on the wheel automatically fell on your thigh, mindlessly rubbing it with his thumb as he drove home. The soothing feeling, along with the painkillers, lulled you to sleep, the ghost of a peaceful smile playing on your lips. When his eyes caught your sleeping figure, the corners of his mouth lifted up and the sparkle in his eyes brightened, because you were safe and you were with him and he loved you.

He loved you.

He loved you so fucking much that it hurt.

He loved you until his fingers ached and his stomach flipped.

He loved you with everything he had and wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs.

He couldn’t understand how he had gone his whole life without you, how he had managed to say that he was happy when he hadn’t met you yet. He was close to crying just by looking at you, that was how much he loved you. He had never believed that a love like this existed, and he surely didn’t think it was destined for someone like him, he didn’t deserve it — he didn’t deserve you. But you had fallen into his arms and there was no way he was going to let go.

The moment he had arrived at the fraternity, he exited the vehicle and walked around it to open your door. You were sleeping so soundlessly, he couldn’t have woken you even if there had been a fire. He unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up in the same way he had previously brought you in your seat, then closed the door with his hip. You cuddled further into him and let him tend to you as he carried you inside.

“The fuck happened?!” Ethan’s voice caught Rafe’s attention as soon as he had stepped inside. He was in the common kitchen and he hadn’t expected to see his roommate come home with you in his arms all bandaged up.

Rafe shushed him, “She’s sleeping, you fuckin’ idiot.”

Ignoring him, he continued, “Was she in the hospital?”

“No, I put the cast on her.” He humored him, “What d’you think?!”

Ethan knew his friend and if he had started to respond in ironic remarks, he must have been pissed, which was why he didn’t pry anymore. “Need a hand?”

He sighed, “Just open the door of our room.”

Rafe gently laid you on his bed and quickly placed a pillow underneath your sprained ankle like the doctor had instructed. He covered you up with a blanket and double-checked that you were okay.

Meanwhile, Ethan looked at him as if he couldn’t recognize his own roommate, but he wasn’t complaining; he liked the whipped version of Rafe. He leaned against the wall with a playful smirk tugging at his lips when his friend turned around and noticed him.

“What?” He asked, exasperated.

“Nothing. Just never thought I’d see the day that Rafe Cameron would fall in love.”

“And if you don’t stop, it’ll be the last day you see anything.”

Raising his hands in the air, Ethan was weirded out by the mean behavior. “Alright, why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe nodded his head towards the door and they both left the room, letting you rest.

“I know it was him. She won’t say it, but I know it was.” He all but growled as he let his anger take the best of him.

“Who? The boyfriend?”

“They were supposed to break up. She left this morning and she was about to leave his ass but then she came back and told me a bunch of bullshit about how she can’t be with me. And look what fucking happened! He did this. He —“

“Rafe, calm down,” Ethan tried to be the rational one, although the thought of some guy hurting you was infuriating him; after all, you had brought out the best out of his friend and for all he knew, you were a saint for it. “You can’t just go up to a guy and break his nose because he might have hurt her. It’s late, you’re still in shock and you’re going to do something really stupid if you get out now. She needs you.” The last words convinced him. He didn’t care if Matthew hadn’t hurt you, he deserved a broken nose either way, but his roommate was right: you needed him. “I’ll sleep at Dylan’s tonight so you can be alone.” He added, and Rafe was really grateful for him in that moment.

Stepping back inside his room, he was mesmerized by the sight of you in his bed. He was never going to get used to it. He took his shoes off and lied beside you, throwing an arm around you as you instantly reached for him in your sleep. The night carried on smoothly, the back of your head on his chest and one of his hands on your stomach, the other holding your fingers. He couldn’t fall asleep. All he was able to do was stare at the ceiling and look down at you from time to time to make sure that you were comfortable. Not knowing what had happened to you was eating him inside, he only wished to protect you and shield you from anything that could ever hurt you.

All of a sudden, you stirred and slowly opened your eyes. You went to rub your eye, only to find your fingers intertwined with someone else’s, making you smile. “Mh, Rafe?”

He sat a little bit and brought your hand to his lips, “Hey, you’re awake.”

You looked up at him, but were disappointed when you realized you were unable to cuddle the way you desired, which made you ache for him. He held you tightly and that made a certain warm and fuzzy feeling to grow in your chest. You pouted, “I want a kiss.”

“God, you can’t say stuff like that.” He groaned, bending his head down nonetheless.

“Why?” You chuckled.

“‘Cause I won’t be able to stop.”

You hummed, “I don’t want you to.”

He kissed you softly, completely in contrast with the way he had done in the car, and began to pepper kisses all over your face, causing a giggle to escape your lips. Changing your position and sitting up next to him, you rested your head on his shoulders, securely hugged by his arm.

“What you thinkin’ about?” You whispered.

“I just —“ He took a deep breath, “What happened, baby?”

You reached for his hand and held it in yours before you exhaled loudly. “He said he was going to hurt you…and me. He found out about us and — and I have never seen him like that, he went mad and forced me to put a stop to…well, us.”

His grip on you tightened, his jaw locked and if looks could kill, your ex boyfriend would’ve been six feet under ground by then. “He threatened you?”

“…That’s not the worst part.” You muttered. “I don’t know how it happened. One moment I was on his bike, trying not to fall from how fast he was driving, and the next thing I know I’m flying on the hood of a car and then lying on the side of the road. He —“ You held your tears back, swallowing, “He just left. He didn’t even care to see if I was alive. The woman in the car stayed with me until the ambulance came, and you know the rest.” You mumbled the last words as your eyes stung, but you definitely felt lighter for telling him the truth. However, as you didn’t hear him answer or make any comment, you continued in panic, “Are you mad at me? I know I should’ve told you, but—“

He tried to keep his murderous thoughts to himself as he comforted you, “No, angel, of course I’m not. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He scooted down the bed, making the both of you lie completely on the mattress before he pulled you impossibly closer to him. “I’m not letting you go this time.”

You sighed happily and found your place in his neck once again, sleep taking over you for the third time, the side effect of your medications still lingering in your system. You were about to doze off when you mumbled “I love you, Rafe.”

He swore that he stopped breathing — not because he couldn’t, but because you had caused him to forget how to do it. Unaware of what you had just done to him, you slept peacefully once again as a storm of emotions hit the man lying beneath you. Once he came back from the shock, you were deep inside the dream world, nonetheless, he whispered in the silent and soft night air, “I love you, too, angel,” he pressed his lips against your temple, “so damn much.”

—

Carefully attempting to not wake you, Rafe slid out of your embrace and let you rest your head on the soft pillow. You had been sleeping for hours and he hoped you weren’t going to open your eyes, however, a whine escaped your lips when you couldn’t feel the warmth of his body against yours anymore, which made him gently shush you. “Ssh, go back to sleep. I’m gonna come back real soon.”

“Where you goin’?” You muttered sleepily.

Bending down to kiss the side of your head, he lied, “Bathroom. Just go back to sleep, baby.”

“Mh, fine.”

He watched you until he was sure that you had fallen asleep, then grabbed what he needed and softly closed the door of the room behind him as he exited it. He wasn’t going to have a good night’s sleep as long as he knew that he wasn’t doing anything to protect you, to keep that psychopath away from you, therefore, he had to move, and fast. However, he hadn’t expected to see Ethan lazily walking back into their friend’s room, the one he was staying in that night, and for him to also notice his roommate. His eyes shot open for he immediately understood what was going on; it had taken him one look at Rafe’s outfit and serious expression.

He strode towards his friends, shaking tiredness off of himself pretty quickly. “Rafe, stop! I knew you were going to do something incredibly stupid.” He said, lowering his voice but still making sure that he sounded convincing enough.

Unfortunately for him, Rafe only shook his head, “He hurt her. I’m gonna fucking kill him.” He all but growled before he began to walk away from his friend and towards the stairs of the building.

“Rafe!” Ethan exclaimed, grabbing Rafe’s forearm to halt his movements. “Do you really think that’s the smartest idea?”

“You want me to take it out on you?”

He tried his best to ignore his friend’s anger. He was aware that it wasn’t directed to him, although he looked way too scary for him to feel completely unaffected. What Ethan knew was that Rafe had to calm down before someone got hurt. “She needs you right now, what’s the point of hurting him back?”

He shrugged his hand off and faced him with hurt and determination written all over him. “He left her there, as if she were nothing. I’m not gonna let him get away with this! She’s my girl and I’m gonna remind him of that.” Finally Ethan seemed to understand the situation a bit more and if Rafe had known him any better, his roommate probably wanted to kill Matthew almost as much as he did. Almost. “You can either come with me and help me or stay with her and make sure that she’s fine. Your choice.”

He sighed, “I’ll text you if she wakes up.”

Those had been the last words Rafe had heard before he left the building and began to walk towards his car. The first place on his list was Matthew Taylor’s dorm, where he hoped the dead-man-walking was at. He only wanted to talk, of course. He wished to see him, have a nice, little chat and then just simply…break his nose and give him a concussion ten times worse than yours. Once he had found the dorm, he rushed inside, glad that the common room was full of people, therefore the open front door.

“Is Matthew Taylor here?” Was all he asked, catching everyone’s attention and curiosity. Drunk and confused guys looked up at him and he was sure he wasn’t going to get any coherent answer from them.

“He’s not.” One of them replied, the only guy that seemed more sober and alert than the others.

“Where is he?”

“Not allowed to say it.” He simply shrugged, unknowingly raising the blue eyed man’s anger.

Rafe took a couple of more steps until he stood in front of him and grabbed his shirt threateningly. “Listen, you little shit. I can punch the information out of you or you can tell me right now. It’s up to you.”

The stranger swallowed loudly and mumbled out the name of a bar that was right outside the campus, which made Rafe let go of him. Without saying another word, he walked back to his vehicle and drove to the suggested place. Once he had opened the doors of the old and loud bar, the strong smell of alcohol hit his senses, making his nose grimace. His eyes scanned the inside of the building, trying to find the only person he was looking for among the great amount of drunk people. Finally, as he walked farther inside, he saw him. There he was, drinking and laughing with some guys around him as if that had been a normal day, as if he hadn’t almost ruined a woman’s life. Rafe couldn’t have controlled his feet even if he had wanted to, they were already taking him towards the man.

“Hey Taylor!” He yelled over the loud voices mixed with the music blasting through the speakers. The wanted man turned around, confused as he looked for the person that was trying to get his attention, but it didn’t take him long for he was already in front of him and Rafe’s fist was making contact with his cheekbone.

The force of the punch led him to fall from the stool he was sitting on, however, he didn’t get much time to get back on his feet because Rafe’s fists were meeting Matthew’s face repeatedly while a crowd of people began to gather around them. Your ex-boyfriend tried to respond, to push him off, but it felt nearly impossible to do so when the angry man’s assault was unstoppable.

Rafe knew that he was going too far, but the thought of what he had done to you kept replaying in his mind and the more it did, the more he wanted to rip that guy’s head off. When he believed he’d had enough, Rafe lowered his head to get closer to Matthew’s, “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her ever again,” he growled threateningly before he got up.

He was sure to have made himself clear, which was why he was already about to get out of the building. And yet, it seemed like it hadn’t been enough for the other man because, as he sat there with blood all over his face, coughing up and holding his stomach in the process, he called out to him, “She won’t give it up to you, Cameron,” he choked out, causing Rafe to turn around and almost kill him right there, “You think I don’t know why you’re with her? Been there, man,” he chuckled dryly and in pain, “You won’t last a week.”

That was when he realized that the idiot didn’t know anything about what had happened between you two and that he really had been clueless the whole time. Rafe could’ve told him that he had already made love to you, that he had kissed every inch of your body, that he had made you scream his name and writhe beneath him until you had released all over him, but instead, he didn’t say anything. That had been the most intimate moment of his life and it was between you and Rafe, and he sure as hell didn’t want your ex boyfriend to find out about it, but wasn’t he dying to show him that he was all in and that he wasn’t going to leave you unless you kicked him out of your life.

So, he crouched down and plastered a smirk on his lips as he watched Matthew‘s face scrunch up in pain. “Lemme give you some advice, Matt,” he rasped, spitting his name as if it had been venom on his tongue, “Keep my girl’s name outta your fuckin’ mouth and I’ll stop myself from puttin’ you six feet under ground. ‘S that clear?” Finally, he raised and walked outside, ignoring the looks from the other customers, and with one single goal on his mind: make you officially his.

—

As Rafe walked back inside his room, after having cleaned himself up, he smiled weakly at the sight of you still sleeping soundly. Softly closing the door behind him, he noticed the post-it attached to it, which made him frown in confusion.

‘Had to go to practice. See you later

-Ethan’

He nodded to himself and threw the piece of paper into the bin, then he finally sat next to you. He wrapped you in his arms and left a lingering kiss on your temple, sighing in content and satisfaction.

It was like even your unconscious body knew that he was holding you again because your eyes opened and your lips curled up into a soft smile as his fingers caressed your head.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He murmured, making sure that his voice was at a low volume in order to avoid a possible headache. “How you feelin’?”

He was hovering above you, scanning your face to check for any discomfort or sign of pain as he cradled your face in one hand, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. You looked up at him and all that you could think about was how anything could’ve happened that night and Rafe would’ve never known that you loved him, that you would’ve always chosen him, that the sweet and perfect man in front of you was all you ever wanted.

“I love you.” Was all you said, ignoring his question, while your teary eyes penetrated his, unaware that you had already spilled your feelings the night before.

He bit down his bottom lip, holding back a smile as he whispered, “I told you to not fall in love with me.”

You let out a wet chuckle as the memory of the day you had made the best deal of your life hit you. “Yeah, well, you were right: it was hard not to.”

“Told you I’m always right.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you raised your good hand and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, bringing his face closer to yours. “For God’s sake, Cameron, shut up and kiss me.”

He obliged immediately, catching your lips in a world shattering kiss. Your tongues played together as his hand slipped under your sweater and then beneath you to hold your body closer to his. Your fingers slid down his torso and toyed with the hem of his shirt before moving underneath it and grabbing his bare back.

“Baby?” He rasped with his lips still so close to yours that you could feel his breath.

“Mh?”

“I love you.”

taglist:

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project-sekai-facts · 5 months

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How are we feeling about ensekai’s emu3 translation!!! (I’m mad)

(if you remember the 3 whole posts i made when asahi got de-gayed on EN you'll know i am mad too and that this is probably going to get long)

i don't like to be too cynical but it was so obvious that they were going to change that line, i had a feeling since the event first released on JP and after the incident with Asahi where I went through and tracked down multiple other examples of EN removing queer subtext it became clear to me that in no way shape or form was "emu-chan really loves nene-chan" making it to EN without getting changed. what i didn't expect was them changing Nene's line after Luka's comment, which actually makes this whole situation far worse than many of their other instances of toning down queer subtext.

for anyone who isn't aware of what happened, in chapter 5 of the current Emu event, there's a scene where Nene, Rui and the Virtual Singers are talking about what would cheer Emu up. The vsingers all talk about how much Emu loves spending time with Nene, leading to the following exchange

If you look for them, any fan TL of this scene will be something similar to this:

Luka: ...Fufu. Emu-chan really loves Nene-chan, doesn't she? Nene: Th-that's nothing special...

EN's official translation is this:

So what's the issue? I'll start with Luka's part. In the original text, she uses the word daisuki, which can mean to "like a lot" or "love". It's a word you will see frequently in the idol/idol-adjacent genre of games, due to its ambiguity in that it can be read as either platonic or romantic when used towards a person, and often will be used in ambiguous situations so that it's harder to confirm the writers' intentions either way. so here, fans of the emu/nene ship could view the fact that emu loves spending her time with nene as more on the romantic side, but people who don't like the ship could view it as platonic and move on.

while they didn't translate daisuki directly, Luka's line still works, and still contains the ambiguity that works as ship tease in the original text. it's a perfectly fine localisation that still conveys the original intent. despite that, there is something to be said about EN's consistent refusal to translate daisuki as love in most instances when it's not used on An/Kohane (but then again, EN has literally teased An/Kohane on their twitter account so is it all that surprising?).

Here's some examples:

Aibou no koto ga daisuki de / he loves his partner -> he cares about his partner very much (The Power of Unity chapter 7 when Kaito is comparing Arata to Akito and Toya)

HARUKA-CHAN, DAISUKI DAYOOOO!!! / HARUKA-CHAN, I LOOOOOVEEE YOU!!! -> You're the best!!! (Dear Me, As I Was Back Then chapter 4 when minori is at an ASRUN concert. this one isn't actually that great of a localisation)

Honachan no koto daisuki dakara. Kore de iinda yo. / I love Honachan, so this is fine. -> I want what's best for her. And this is it. (Leo/need main story chapter 14 after Saki tells Honami she won't bother her anymore)

Minna daisuki de - taisetsuna tomodachi na no / I love them all - they're my dearest friends -> They're all amazing, and very dear to me. (Leo/need main story chapter 17. this isn't good either)

What's particularly amusing about that last one is that there's a second official translation for it that I assume was done by JP staff (since EN never promoted doing the Journey to Bloom subs like they did back when they provided subs for Petit SEKAI) that actually keeps the word daisuki as love.

Yeah. I love all my friends - and they mean the world to me.

It's a better localisation than the official EN team one.

Questionable localisation choices aside, Luka's line is fine and is actually in line with the original. The issue with this localisation very much lies with Nene's part, because that is an entirely new line.

In the original text, Nene's "that's just normal" or "that's nothing special" or however you choose to TL it, is meant to be her questioning Luka's statement, since all the things that the other vsingers said that Emu liked were pretty normal things like going shopping and playing video games with nene. To Nene, these things are normal activities for them to do together, so she gets embarrassed by the fact that Luka concludes from that information that Emu loves Nene. When I dissect it like that I think you can really tell what the writers were going for here lol.

"That's just us being friends" does still convey the idea that Nene thinks these activities aren't anything out of the ordinary and she isn't sure why the vsingers are picking these out as some of Emu's favorite things to do, but it's very different from the original line. "But those are just normal things we do together" is something I just came up with on the spot, but it's a lot closer to the original text and still conveys the same meaning. The fact they changed the line to "that's just us being friends" is, honestly, not even subtle that they're covering up queer subtext. The original scene was very clearly written in as ship tease, and EN mentioning "friends" for no reason, especially since the word nor anything close to it was not used in the original, is instantly a red flag because it's like the go-to for queerbaiting and censorship. This was intentional. There was no need for them to specify that the relationship is platonic, Luka's part is ambiguous for a reason so that fans can view it how they like.

Just to top all this off, here's Rin's original line just before that Luka+Nene interaction:

Oh, and! And! She said that playing games with Nene-chan is also super fun!

And here's Rin's line from the official EN translation:

That's not the same thing, but even more weirdly, the incorrect part (super fun->really loves) is a correct translation for the part changed in Luka's line. So, they can do it, they are willing to say "really loves", just not in the right places. Maybe because Rin's part is less personal than Luka's part? It's strange actually, this isn't the first time they've done this either. Off the top of my head I can think of an example from Shiho's Varied Kindness 2* story where they translated the word "suki" as really loves, despite that being much stronger than the original word used (and the fact that daisuki is used a lot in the Leo/need stories and it's incredibly rare if not entirely unknown for them to translate it correctly).

It's not subtle that they're trying to remove implications of the characters possibly being queer, they did it in curtain call and they did it in walk on and on, and multiple times before then too. And considering some of the content in this year's events and the amount of times they say daisuki alone, it's gonna keep happening. honestly i hate the fact that i keep trying to justify the translations in these posts. these translations are intentional. what happened in the curtain call translation back in october says enough. when a character who uses explicitly romantic language towards another guy passes as a straight character in the translation you know they're doing it on purpose.

oh and once again, it's only the EN server that has this issue. The scene in question was translated almost word-for-word on the TW and KR servers.

read fan translations. they're better than what EN gives us and people put a lot of effort into them.

#since the EN translation qualifies as a leak i am scheduling this to post when the event drops #asks #mod talks #i'm going to leave this in the tags because i don't want to make the post any longer #but something that's been really annoying to see recently on twt has been the gradual uptick of players saying that there's no queer #characters/subtext/etc in the game outside mizuki being trans. and i do wonder if EN's consistent habit of toning down #or outright removing moments of heavy subtext and other more ambiguous shiptease moments has anything to do with it.#that or people live under a rock because even EN keeps most of An and Kohane's relationship intact and there's still plenty of #moments that were impossible to edit or tone down due to being plot relevant or being part of longer interactions that wouldn't make sense #if part of it was changed. like the An wedding event.#eh maybe people are just ignorant.#but anyway it does bug me immensely that EN-only players are getting a censored version of the game. it's 2024. staff can do better.#also like i mentioned in the part about rin. they /add in/ things occasionally. so why the hell are they removing so much?

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celestialtarot11 · 4 months

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Hiii, how are you doing? 👀 I saw you answered a question about channeling spirit guides during your tarot readings, and I was wondering how you do it without getting your energy drained quickly? Because i want to do that too, but I always get drained easily after one channeling session D: do you have some tips for that? Thank you! ✨️💖✨️

Hi! I’m doing wonderful thank you for asking 💗 How are you as well? And of course! Lets talk about it.

How To Channel Spirit Guides + Protect Your Energy

🤍 Preparation is key when you want to begin channeling. Set aside 1-2 hours to yourself, that way you can relax, get ready and also process what happened after the channeling session.

☁️ Start by eating healthy foods before you channel. For me, I can’t channel on an empty stomach since my energy is being used to communicate with these spiritual beings, so for some of ya’ll, ya’ll need to eat to stabilize your body. And some people I know do fine on an empty stomach which is also valid! Figure out what works for you. Your energy needs to be stable!

🤍 Take some deep breaths to help calm you. You channel best when in a calmer state, and the messages come naturally and easily.

☁️ Set the mood as well, make sure your environment is clean, organized and is to your liking. I can’t channel in a dirty environment, so it has to be clean and proper to invite spiritual energy in. This does help the flow of energy!

🤍 Cleanse your tarot cards for accurate results. This can be done by knocking 3 times on them, blowing on them, or using a crystal to help. Any method can work as long as you’re comfortable.

☁️ Cleanse your space spiritually. It’s important that when working with celestial energy, we want to only hear from them not other spirits/entities (unless that’s something you want, but that’s a whole different rabbit hole!) You can cleanse with runes, incense, candles, crystals, and so much more. Protecting your space is highly important so the wrong spirit/entity cannot attach to you.

🤍 Talk! Openly talk to your spirit guides and now you can begin channeling. Whether it’s out loud or in your mind.

☁️ After, it’s recommended to do some breathing exercises to help cleanse energy, and to awaken your body you can do some stretching! Or go for a walk. You can take the time to process what the heck just happened 😂 which is why it’s important to take 1-2 hours for channeling sessions.

Something I do want to stress: It’s highly important you protect your spiritual space and energy regularly against unwanted entities/spirits. As someone who worked with spirits for a long time, it’s easy to invite a malicious spirit/entity by accident. Or to communicate to it unaware that it is a malicious spirit/entity. Please be safe. If ya’ll would like for me to talk about this in a different post more in depth, I absolutely can! Or you can ask questions.

Something else I do want to mention. I stress the importance of physical care & movement here, because our body is the vessel to receive energy. Our body needs care when channeling, to help support what energies will come through. It’s all connected, our body, mind and soul. It’s like a car, you need to fill it with gas so it can take you to where you need to be. Without gas it won’t work. Our bodies can shut down midway channeling because the energies are so heavy/dense. We can get exhausted, fatigued and irritated! That’s your sign to stop channeling and take a break.

Thank ya’ll for reading 💗☁️🫶 happy & safe channeling!

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in1-nutshell · 7 months

Note

Hey, not too long ago. There was a prompt about bot crash landing on to earth and getting adopted by ten year old buddy. If requests are open, might I suggest the same prompt with Rodimus and Drift (separately).

The concept for these two interactions has been stuck in my brain for days.

Rodimus- I'm a dad now, this is my kid.

Magnus- you can barely take care of yourself, how do you expect to take care of a human child.

Drift- heeeeyyyyyy Ratchet... how do you feel about kids.

Wow! First request! I haven't put up a message for that yet...BUT consider this the first of many to come. I will be posting when the request will be open and some guidelines as soon after this posted.

Hope you enjoy this and feel free to request!

Rodimus and Drift (separately) accidentally crash lands and is slightly injured on Earth and meets a 10-year-old Human Buddy

SFW, Familial, platonic, mention of injury, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Rodimus

Rodimus groaned as he sat up feeling slight pain in his struts. He looked around him and nearly did a double take. He was on Earth. It had to be, He recognize those pine trees and fuzzy moss anywhere. Unless he was on some weird simulation, or Swearth again.

He hears a small sneeze and attempts to reach for his blaster before his wrist began to hurt. He prepares for whatever is coming his way.

A small human with a bucket filled with water waddles into his clearing. They take one look at him and waddle their way to his acheing pede and proceed to dump the water on it.

“Cold! That was cold! Why did you do that for?”--Rodimus

“You were overheating. I had to cool you down. The names Buddy by the way Mr. McQueen.”—Buddy

“McQueen? Who—nevermind. My name is Rodimus, rodimus Prime.”--Rodimus

He goes to shake Buddy’s hand but his wrist shot in pain causing him to hiss. Buddy dropped their bucket and reached into their pocket and pulled out 3 Hot Wheel bandaids and with a concentrated face began sticking them all over his servo.

“Uhhh… What are you doing?”--Rodimus

“I’m helping obviously.”--Buddy

“While I appreciate—”--Rodimus

“Shhh! Let the band aids do their thing Mr. Prime.”--Buddy

“Rodimus. Just Rodimus. Anyways where’s your parents? They should be too far.”—Rodimus

“Never met them Rodimus.”--Buddy

“Wait what?”—Rodimus

Rodimus pauses taking in that information in

He tries to lighten the mood a bit and asks Buddy some basic questions he heard that little kids liked answering.

“So, what’s your favorite color?”--Rodimus

“I like orange. Like the one on you, it’s a pretty color.”--Buddy

“It is! I always tell my friends it’s a cool color!”--Rodimus

“Oh! Do you like cheetah’s? They are like, super-duper-fast!”--Buddy

“Don’t know what that is but if its fast then it has to be awsome!”--Rodimus

“Right!”—Buddy

The two eventually fall into a nice conversation until Rodimus notices the sun fall across the horizon. He asks Buddy if they know a place where they could lie low for a bit. Buddy nods and begins walking further into the thick wood.

Rodimus slowly followed in tow.

Buddy eventually comes to an old, abandoned gas station. Good for Rodimus. No other humans to know of his existence. Buddy goes to the back and opens the back garage door. A place for Rodimus, sure a little cramped but still better than sleeping in the thick wood.

Buddy went back in the store and retrieved dozens of trash bags and a sleeping bag for their improv sleepover.

“At a sleep over, you have to tell stories before we go to sleep.”--Buddy

“Any story?”--Rodimus

“Any story.”--Buddy

“Well, I have one. Let me tell you about the time I single handedly wrestled a Sparkeater.”--Rodimus

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds cool and creepy. Tell me!”--Buddy

To his surprise Buddy was fully interested in his stories. And it was cute to see Buddy fighting to stay awake to hear the rest of the story. They ended up falling asleep, curling next to Rodimus’s leg.

That sound? That’s definitely not Rodimus’s spark screaming at the cuteness before him. Nope, definitely not that.

Rodimus is confident that his team will find him so most of his time is spent with Buddy.

Between telling stories to one another, admitting one to the other of some loneliness before meeting the other. Rodimus defiantly pulls Buddy into a hug after one of those heavy emotion sessions about the past. It’s good for the pair.

It’s now been two weeks since Rodimus had come back to Earth. Buddy decided to take him to their favorite place to look at the stars. A little field not too far from their “home”.

Approaching the clearing, they weren’t expecting Lost Light to appear over the horizon. Rodimus was so happy to see his ship he almost forgot that Buddy was on his shoulder.

“They’re here! They’re here! Oh, I can’t wait to get back to my Captain’s chair!”--Rodimus

“Oh…”--Buddy

“And I can’t wait for you to get a mini chair next to mines!”--Rodimus

“Wait…”

“Yeah, we can have it with orange designs and all. I’m pretty sure Ten won’t have much problem doing the details on the chair.”--Rodimus

Buddy just looks at him in disbelief and in happy tears hugs the side of Rodimus’s helm.

Rodimus finally catching to the reality for Buddy pauses a bit and does his best to hug them back telling them that he wouldn’t leave them even if it made all of his reports disappear.

The Rod Pod touches down and Rodimus wastes no time in running to it with Buddy holding to his chassis.

Magnus was not prepared for Rodimus to show up with a little human.

“Rodimus—”—Ultra Magnus

“Behold the newest addition to the Lost Light!”--Rodimus

“Hi.”--Buddy

“… I’ll get the supplies ready then…”—Ultra Magnus

Rodimus explains the whole story to everyone on the Rod Pod and does the same when he gets back to the ship. Buddy is having the time of their life meeting new friends. Rodimus is glad that he managed to help his friend and hopes to give them a better life than the one they had on Earth.

Drift

Drift wakes up to a cold shudder.

He looks around at his surroundings. It looked like he was in an old barn. A cold old barn with the paint falling off just like the snow outside. He then feels a sharp pain near his pede.

It not his room or the medbay. It wasn’t even a part of the ship. He remembers… the crash… He remembered trying to send one last message to ratchet about his coordinates before he blacked out.

He goes to examine the wound when he hears little footsteps. Drift reaches for one of his swords when a little human came out of one of the barns shadows. They looked like one of the children in Swerve’s human movie night films.

The child had some protective layers on, but clearly not enough for the snow falling. They had a bunch of old miss matched blankets in their hands.

“Hi…My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Hello? My name is Drift.”—Drift

Drift ever dumbfounded waved back before clutching his pede in pain again. Buddy carefully puts down the blankets and slowly moves towards his pede. Drift curious slowly releases his pede and watched the human pull out some sort of wrappings and began wrapping his pede the best they could.

“Buddy, as much as I appreciate the help, that isn’t—”--Drift

“Shh!”--Buddy

“Did- did you just shush me?”--Drift

“Yes, and I’ll do it again. Shh!”--Buddy

They then grabbed the blankets and attempted to… tuck him in?

He thanked them shivering a bit feeling the cold seep in.

The human smiled and left him alone in the barn before falling into a much-needed recharge.

The next morning, Buddy returned to check back and pulled a chair to sit right next to him. The two ended up talking about how Drift had gotten to Earth and how to get him back home. Drift was surprised to see Buddy eager to help him get back home.

“C’mon Drift. Let’s help you get home. And don’t worry I won’t let any evil corrupt government spy take you.”--Buddy

“That sounded oddly specific but thanks?”--Drift

Together the two end up borrowing some tech from a nearby scrap yard to help create a distress beacon. Sure, Drift was by no means an engineer, but he hopes that his time with Perceptor will help him now.

During the next 3 weeks it goes by, Drift learns a bit about Buddy’s life. About them being an orphan and finding haven in the old crumbly barn.

Buddy learns a bit about Drift too. They learn about how he used to be a bad guy before turning good, how he made some new friends on the Lost light, and his misadventures with a medic named Ratchet.

“You really chopped the bad guy’s hands?”--Buddy

“Yeah, the were going to hurt Ratchet. I had to protect him.”--Drift

“He sounds like a nice guy. Wish I could meet him.”--Buddy

It was early dawn when Buddy woke up from a nightmare and came to Drift for comfort.

“You- you just left! You didn’t even say goodbye!”--Buddy

“Buddy, it was all a dream. A bad one. Anyways I could never leave you even if I tried to.”--Drift

“What? What about the Lost Light? What about Ratchet?”--Buddy

“… Would you like to come with me? Mean, You can say no and all—”--Drift

“YES!”--Buddy

Buddy attempts to hug Drift nodding furiously. A tearful confirmation that made the pair happy.

A sudden crackle is heard from outside the barn.

Drift is immediately up, holding Buddy close to his spark and sword in the other servo. Buddy is completely dwarfed in his servo and shakes a bit in the suspense in the air. Drift is prepared to fight whatever is outside of the barn.

Multiple footsteps are heard which only makes Drift’s grip on the sword tighten.

Then the door swings open and Drift kicks down the intruder straight in the chassis pointing the sword at them. Rodimus, on the ground groaning at the sudden attack.

“Geez Drift I know we had our differences but that was a bit harsh don’t you think?”--Rodimus

“Rodimus?”--Drift

“Drift!”--Ratchet

“Ratchet!”--Drift

“Oh thank—is that a human?”--Ratchet

“Hi… I’m Buddy. You must be Ratchet. Drift tells some of the best stories about you.”--Buddy

“Does he now?”--Ratchet

“Uh… Buddy—”--Drift

“Shh!”—Buddy and Ratchet

“I like this kid.”--Ratchet

“Are you guys my parents now?”--Buddy

“What?”—Drift and Ratchet

“What?”—Buddy

And that is how Buddy ended up joining the Lost light and how Drift and Ratchet ended up being their guardians. Never leaving Buddy alone in danger and never feeling cold again.

#transformers x reader #mtmte x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte rodimus #mtmte drift #mtmte ratchet #mtmte ultra magnus #human buddy #maccadam #mtmte x platonic reader

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thereaperisabitch · 24 days

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My Joel Miller fic recs Volume 2

I wanted to post this before my birthday, but that was more than a month ago - life happened (SO MANY things happened).

As I said on the first part, 2023 was a very rough year and these stories I’ve read were a great solace for me. Sadly, 2024 it’s still being as rough – so I’m holding on my resolution and being more active on here. My original plan was to make a rec list of the year, but not only it’d be huge but it would be a lot of work, so I’ll be separating in volumes. Last year’s will be considered volume 1, this is volume 2.

I want to thank every author in this list @tieronecrush @atticrissfinch @swiftispunk @the-scandalorian @softlyspector and @toomanystoriessolittletime : thank you so much for taking your time and created amazing stories for me and for all the readers in here, you all are very talented and creative, your hard work in crafting the best reading pieces it's very much appreciated, I wish there's more I could do to express how much I value your writing.

Hot & Heavy (complete)

Summary: 3 years, 3 summers - what happens when you can’t get over your sexy older neighbor? The sexiest and sweetest love affair that could happen – but with a lot more between them.

This one is very dear to me, @tieronecrush is the sweetest person on earth (and I love her even more knowing she's Aries too). Sam’s creativity it’s amazing and at the same time she can balm our hearts with her words, she can squeeze it with our lungs.

I think this was the first story I’ve read of hers and her Javier Peña’s “Only Angel” will appear again when I make a list of rec's of our beloved Peña.

From her Joel Miller stories, I also highly recommend Trick or Treat, Secret Santa and Orange Crush.

Meet Me In The Back (on going)

Summary: after a rough shitty day, you just want your drink, but state’s law is against you, what to do? Sleazy gas station clerk Joel shows you he can bend the rules for different ways to pay 👀

This has become my obsession, consuming my thoughts at the most random times and very oftenly. Joel’s kinda weird in this story, but he gets under your skin, etches in your brain in a way that you accept and love. And because I’m a ~romantic gal~, there’s more than crazy ass good smut in this too and so far, I’m loving the development of this story.

I also HIGHLY recommend In the Next Room, ‘cause @atticrissfinch turned an annoying situation (my aunt struggles with neighbors like this and it’s exhausting my family) into one of the sexiest things ever.

Your Summer Dream (complete)

Summary: after a traumatic breakup, you’re travelling to Costa Rica with your parents and your dad’s best buddy, Joel Miller. You know what they say, the best way to heal a broken heart it’s with a good dick someone new, right? Right.

This is one my favorite dbf!Joel ever! The situation between them it’s the most appealing – hot DILF, friend’s of dad, fresh breakup and SUMMER and BEACH – it’s the perfect recipe for a delicious and thrilling story, but @swiftispunk adds more with her talent, bringing up also the complicate parts of falling in love with your dbf.

I also highly recommend Good to Me, it’s about Joel being a gynecologist – and just that made me BURN, but also he’s a very good and caring gynecologist, which makes everything all better. Say it With Your Hands is set in Jackson Era - Joel Miller in Jackson visits a masseuse and it’s too much body contact for our poor old man. And Snowflakes, a Fireplace, and You it’s a beautiful Christmas tale and it’s also very much sexy and sad, and I foolish hope that next Christmas there’ll be a second part.

Two & Mine

These are one-shots that aren't related.

I love @the-scandalorian and the day I make a rec list for Din Djarin, 90% of it will be all of her pieces. But since Joel’s stills the man of the hour, I recommend both of these one-shots of her. Mine was the first anal fic with Joel that I’ve read in here, and that’s all you need to know to go read it and LOVE it as I do.

Two includes it’s smut with angst, which I LOVE, as well. And it’s perfect smut, in every detail and word choice, because Simone is wonderful and everything she writes it’s perfectly endearing and it touches you in different ways.

If you're also into Din Djarin content, go check her work.

Honeyed (complete)

Summary: the dilemma of someone who can’t stand being touched but finds a connection with the tattooist Joel Miller and his arts.

I’ve used “can’t stand being touched” but you need to know that’s because there’s trauma in the background and @softlyspector explains that in the Warnings. This story it’s very dear to me, I was really involved while reading and Becca builds the perfect relationship of trust between them, while adding some mind-gushing pining.

You know when you read something so good you feel something tingling inside you? That’s how I’ve felt reading Honeyed, that’s how good this story is.

I’ve reread this story before finishing this list and it was a thrill as it was when I've read it for the first time. Becca nailed perfectly with her writing in here and I love it love it love it love it, please go read this and fall in love with this story too.

⚠

🚨WARNING🚨 ⚠ATTENTION⚠ The next story contains beastiality/sexual content with a monster creature. If it’s not your thing or you don’t think you’ll be able to read it, JUST DON’T READ IT. If even you’ve ignored my and author’s warnings and read it still and didn’t like it, keep your opinion to yourself, unless you’ve got some real constructive criticism to share respectfully. Many authors in this place have been migrating or becoming less active in the fandom because of people who think they can say whatever they want without any regards of respect and fuck the receivers of their hate. Don’t make here a worse environment, life outside it’s already awful and unfair as it is. Respect the authors and their work, even if you don't like them.

Claimed

Summary: after being chased by raiders, your savior comes in a form of a strange creature (werewolf). What happens after it’s more than a different way of saying “thank you”.

I’ve felt I needed to add this story here not only because it swept me off my feet and I loved it, but also because this list needs more spice, so thanks @toomanystoriessolittletime for brightening this even more.

Now, if someone asks me if I’m into monster fucking, I’ll say no – but I’d be guilty by this story and other ones (Din Djarin, your time will come). Now that being said, this story it’s HOT, it made me feel hot and I’ve felt good with this story.

I’ve loved the smut, but also how Steph created a perfect atmosphere, I could picture the scene perfectly in my mind. And also Tommy being a werewolf made me hot as well.

That’s it, folks. Next volume probably will come after June. I don’t believe in my promises and neither should you (unless when recommending a fic, then you can trust it’s good).

#Joel Miller fic rec #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #Joel Miller AU #dbf!joel miller x reader #Tattooist!Joel Miller #werewolf!joel miller #pedro pascal Joel Miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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merikayina · 1 year

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hey, can I request lo'ak x fem human reader smut? So basically they've been dating for a while and she keeps asking him to have sex, but he refuses bc he's afraid of hurting her due to the size difference, even though that's kind of a kink for her... Thank you <3

gift ೃ⁀➷

✦ lo'ak x f! human! reader

Tags: aged-up lo'ak, lo'ak as your boyfriend, smut, size kink, p in v, groping

Warnings: 18+ content, nsfw

Word Count: 1500+

A/N: hi, thank you so much for requesting! this will be the first ever fic I post here (and the first smut I've ever written) so I hope this turns out good >.< I've also aged-up Lo'ak and the reader to 20 for obvious reasons, hope you like it! ♡

You plopped onto one of the chairs in the lab, taking off your gas mask and bag filled with Pandoran flora samples and dropping them onto the desk. You close your eyes and lean back, the low buzzing of lab equipment filling the empty lab. "The lab's never been this quiet, everyone must be busy out in the field," You thought to yourself.

It's been two decades since the sky people left Pandora. Born here in Pandora at this exact day, you grew up with the remaining sky people manning the laboratories and the native Na'vi. However, unlike Spider, you were more accustomed to the lab than the outdoors. These days you only ever go outside the lab when tasked to collect fresh samples and, well, meeting up with a certain special Na'vi boy.

The sound of the lab entrance opening broke the silence. You spun the lab seat around to find none other than Lo'ak making his way towards you, hands behind his back.

A gleeful smile ran through your lips with a sudden burst of energy as you ran up to meet the boy in an embrace. More so embracing his legs since he's like 8 feet tall but you didn't really care. "Woah now," The boy chuckles as he tries to regain balance from the sudden hug, "Where have you been all day, I've been looking for you."

"They sent me out to gather more samples," You said staring up at his worried eyes, "Don't worry, Spider was with me. He insisted, saying he knows the ways of the forest better than I do, as if I haven't been living here my whole life."

The boy rolls his eyes while letting out a small chuckle. "Well, while you were out and about," Lo'ak said sitting down on one of the desks his hands revealing a small woven box, "I got something for my birthday girl."

"Lo'ak! You didn't have to!"

Curious and excited, you sat next to him on the desk and opened the box. Inside was one of those glowing fan lizards native here in Pandora. A smile crept up your face as you've never seen one in so long, mostly since they don't show up near the lab.

"I remember dad saying once that sky people give each other gifts on their birthdays so I thought I'd get you something special," He said scratching the back of his head, "Caught it myself."

"Lo'ak...it's dead."

Alarmed, the Na'vi boy hopped off the desk to examine the small creature in your hands. It was limp and shriveled up. "It must've suffocated inside the box," You said eyeing the poor creature.

"Oh no no no, fuck I messed it up," He worriedly exclaimed as he picked up the lizard from your hands.

"Hey hey, it's okay, the fact that you thought of getting me something is more than enough," You reassured him. Thanks to the height of the desk you were sitting on, you were able to cup his cheeks and pull him to a kiss with ease.

Lo'ak sets the lizard in the box to the side and pulls you to a hug, his arms wrapping around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. "But I still ended up not getting you anything special though..." He murmured, "What kind of a boyfriend does that make me?"

You toyed with his hair for a bit before a sly smirk crept up your face. "Well, if you really wanna make up to me..." You say before brushing his braids and whispering something. The boy pulls back to meet your eyes. His look of concern met yours of eagerness.

"We talked about this, you know we can't. I'll just end up hurting you," He says with a sigh while resting his hands on your thighs, caressing them gently, "I can't bear myself to do that to you."

This was a conversation that was all too familiar to the two of you. You know he wants to do it, both of you do, but he seems to prioritize your own wellbeing over his own. Sometimes, you wonder to Eywa if that's a good thing or not. This conversation has always ended the same way, but not today. Not on your birthday.

You extend your hand to caress his cheek, trailing off to his shoulder and arms, eventually reaching and interlocking with his hand - all the while never breaking eye contact. "Your love can never hurt me," Your eyes reassured him. Time and time again you've made it clear to him that whatever happens - this is your decision and everything will be on you not him. Of course, this won't stop him from blaming himself if anything does happen, but you can't bear to see him like this, sacrificing his own desires for the sake of you. Lo'ak has always been the one to put you first and himself second when it comes to things, which was what made you love him in the first place. He has a good heart. However, this relationship won't work if it's just one sacrificing for the other, now it's your turn to put yourself second. Now, you want to return the favor.

"This is what I want Lo'ak."

The blue boy stares at you with conflicted eyes.

After a long silence, Lo'ak let's out a sigh of defeat as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. It starts off gentle but eventually got rough with you taking off your clothes as things progressed. You were having trouble unclasping your brassiere, which he took notice of. Without warning, the boy rips it open to expose your breasts which bounced in delight. He then proceeds to play with one as he sucked on the other, making you grab onto the back of his head and let out soft moans. He was getting into this really fast, he must've wanted to do this so badly for so long and now he's just letting himself loose.

You lay your back on the desk as Lo'ak starts making his way down your belly and to your crotch. Pulling his head back, Lo'ak gently takes off your pants to reveal your pussy which was already oozing in excitement. He flashed you a sly look and a quick smirk before spreading your legs apart - making your pussy squeeze more juices out. Like a hungry Ikran, he starts eating you out while using his tongue to trace the edges of your entrance and exploring the insides. Moans of delight escaped your breath as you squirm from all the stimulation this boy is giving you. This wasn't the first time he's tongue-fucked you, but this time it feels different. Good different.

After he had his fill, he starts taking off his loincloth, exposing his already hard member angrily slapping at his pelvis as it stood straight up. Propping yourself up with your elbows you could tell it was big, probably too big for a human to handle, but that didn't scare you. All you wanted was him, all of him, inside you.

Lo'ak turns his head towards you with a stern look. "Are you sure about this?" You slowly nod your head as you extend your hand. The boy reaches for your hand and interlocks with it with his. You may not have a queue of your own, but holding his hand alone was more than enough to feel the strong bond between the two of you.

Slowly, the boy lines up his tip to your entrance and starts sliding it right in. The juices lubricated the walls of your pussy making for an easier entrance. "Ngh...So...tight..." Lo'ak groans as he continued to thrust in. You, on the other hand, tilted you head up as you feel his whole member slowly expanding your insides. You tried your best not to but you can't help yourself, you let out a gasp of pain. The boy immediately stops and looks at you worried. "Are you okay?? Does it hurt? I'll pull it out right now-"

"N-no!" You gasped through the pain and tightening your grip on his hand, "Please, go on..."

After a moment of hesitation, Lo'ak thrusts it further until his member is fully inside you. You took a few gasps of discomfort as your insides adjusted to his size before giving him a nod to continue. Slowly, he starts thrusting back and forth. After a few successive thrusts, moans of pleasure finally escapes your mouth as his thrusts began hitting your sweet spot. Lo'ak perks up at this and took it as an encouragement to start thrusting harder, which in return earned him more moans of pleasure from you.

The sound of squelching thrusts, gasps of air, and lewd moans coming from you two filled the once quiet lab. "Fuck, y-yes Lo'ak-" You moaned between gasps of air as his member repeatedly slammed into your sweet spot. "I...Ngh-" Lo'ak can barely speak between his grunts of pleasure as he can feel the friction between your tight walls rubbing along his member. The desk was shaking from the intensity that pens and books, and even the bag of samples, were falling off of it.

Lo'ak pulls you closer and mounts onto you, resting his forehead onto yours. His free hand starts rubbing circles around your clit as yours grabbed onto the hair at the back of his head. This sent shivers throughout your whole body as you can feel a knot building up inside you the more he hit your sweet spot.

"L-Lo'ak...Ngh...I think I'm close,"

"That's good babygirl...fuck...that's good-"

You let out one huge moan of pleasure as the knot finally exploded inside you. Your head tilted back, eyes rolling to the top of your head, and back arching. "I...I think I'm close too-" Lo'ak grunts. You wrap you legs around his waist to secure his place as he gave one last thrust before filling your half filled insides with his own seed. Despite how tight it was, juices started leaking out due to how filled your insides were. "Oh fuck-" He cursed under his gasping breath as he released his warm fluids deep inside you.

After pulling out, he ran his finger from the base of your entrance up to the clit to wipe off the excess fluids.

Lo'ak rested his weary body onto yours, both of you panting like crazy. He looks at you with eyes of pure ecstasy. "Was that a good gift?" He chuckled between breaths, "It didn't hurt, did it? Because I'd love to give you more gifts in the future." You let out a soft giggle as you caress his cheeks.

"I told you, your love could never hurt me."

#lo'ak #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak smut #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #atwow fanfiction #atwow x reader #atwow smut #avatar smut #avatar x reader

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a-very-tired-jew · 1 month

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Remember when I said age is a factor regarding how informed a person is? About how life experience, world experience, education, and biology all play a role in how you process information and come to conclusions? https://www.tumblr.com/a-very-tired-jew/746376840485257216/youre-not-as-informed-as-you-think-and-age-does?source=share Well I have seen some token "Good Jews" exhibiting this exact thing as of today (04/20/2024).

Fig. 1. User (Early 20s) claims Zionism is antisemitic, repeats Bund talking points, and repeats the genocide claim.

Fig. 2. Same user says they needed to deprogram from indoctrination.

Fig. 3. Same user as above claims elder Jews (read: Jews that are older than them) are indoctrinated. These are the most egregious examples that this Good Jew has with another Good Jew in this particular discord (you know which one). What we see in Figure 1 is the same Bundian philosophy that got Jews betrayed and killed in the USSR. It's the same philosophy that we have tried over and over again with the same results: Jews tortured, killed, and exiled by the larger goy communities we thought we were accepted in. I would hazard a guess that this young person is not aware of the Dreyfus Affair or other issues in "Liberal" societies that led to Zionism.

In Figure 3 this same person states that older Jews are indoctrinated and in Figure 2 states that they needed to "deprogram" from their "indoctrination". They posit that the reason young Jews are anti-Zionist is because they haven't been indoctrinated yet and/or have deprogrammed themselves from their childhood. However...this is typical teen/young adult behavior where they're "Fighting the narrative" and lashing out at the perceived "status quo of indoctrination". I've heard these words for years, hell I said them myself. But because this person is under 25, around 22/23 from my understanding, they simply don't have the experience or education to really understand what they're talking about. Yes they are Jewish. But the points I made about age in my other post still stand. The likelihood that they have the world and life experience is very slim. Add in that they use inflammatory language that is often associated with the current batch of young antisemitic activists and...well...you get the picture. But let's talk about the greater implication here. This is one glaring example in a discord. There are more throughout our own community. There are young Jews who are screaming at their elders and repeating talking points that they heard on tiktok, social media, and at protests*. The very same protests where they will hear chants of "Gas the Jews", "Hitler was right!", and so on. At what point do they realize that even if they care for innocent lives (which I have yet to see anyone besides outright racists and bigots call for actual genocide) that allying themselves with antisemites who would kill them in an instant is a bad idea? In part, I think it has to do with Westerners distrusting their Democratic governments as we have seen them repeatedly drop the ball on issues. They yearn for a revolution against the status quo because the future is bleak (and trust me, as an ecologist I understand climate anxiety and as a millennial I understand that and so much of the other shit too). But this yearning to have meaningful change in their own country has been coopted by terrorist organizations bent on killing Jews. That energy around positive activism and meaningful change has been manipulated by an organization that has been caught on tape saying they would manipulate these very people to bring about their violent intent. And here's the thing...many of us elders have gone through that very same phase of rhetoric. I remember being an edgy anti-Zionist myself when I was a teen and young adult (I was of the Bundian philosophy as well, and yes I had grown up Reconstructionist, there's a lot to unpack there for a later time). I remember thinking my elders were brainwashed and just scoffing at their retorts. I remember thinking that they had just fallen for the propaganda and needed to open their eyes. As I got older and became more educated, as well as had more world experiences and reached certain biological milestones, my views changed. Not because I became more conservative, but because I was no longer an emotional, hormonally driven young adult who thought they knew more than others. There's a saying in academia that goes something like "In undergrad you think you know everything, in masters you realize you were woefully uninformed, and in your doctorate you realize you don't know shit about anything." But if you tell them that, they just say it's Hasbara (propaganda) because those same orgs have told them it is. Only hindsight and time will let them go beyond their surface level reactionary reasoning and see the bigger picture. They think they've been deprogrammed, but in reality they've fallen for a different manipulation that will use their good intentions to do harm.

*This is reminiscent of young LGBTQ+ behavior where the young queer kids are yelling at their elders, telling them they don't understand, and the elders are warning them about something dangerous. The youngins then come back and cry "why didn't you warn us?" to which they respond "you didn't listen".

#jumblr #leftist antisemitism #activism #Token Good Jews repeating Bunds points are ignorant of history #They're not your allies or friends if they want to kill your people #Everyone has an edgy phase - even Jews

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garbinge · 6 days

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Not Much To Tell

Jess Mariano x Reader

30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I've been rewatching gilmore girls and I'll always be a team jess girlie <3

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of pregnancy and toxic ex who suggests “taking care of it.” *Want to clarify we are pro choice in this house!!!* All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989kmc1

“So, Doose's Market is right downstairs across the block, the post office is on Peach Street, bookstore is on Plum, and the bakery is on Apricot Ave.”

As you stood in what used to be Luke’s apartment which used to be a hardware store office surrounded by your luggage and all your personal belongings, you rested your hand on your stomach which was showing your obvious pregnancy.

“One more fruit street name and you’d have a salad.” Your voice cracked at the awkward joke but you quickly smiled at Jess’ response.

“Well I did forget to mention the gas station and Gypsy’s Auto repair which is on the corner of Cherry and Walnut.”

“Walnuts in a salad, my God Mariano, the years have changed you.” You teased your old best friend.

It brought you back to being 16 in New York and teasing each other, spending all of your free time together. In all honesty, where you were at in life you wished you could just go back to that simpler time. Where your biggest issues were getting Jess to actually show up to school and not mark up all of your books, But seeing how that was impossible, you’d have to make due with what was in front of you. You supposed it wasn’t all that bad, Jess had swooped in and come to your rescue. But when you spoke the words “the years have changed you”, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes move down to your stomach for a millisecond before coming back up to your eyes.

Yes, the years had changed you as well, although it was more like the months did. You were 6 months pregnant with no where to live, no where to go, no job, just $500 in your bank account with no expectation of anymore deposits to be made. But in this moment none of that mattered because Jess took one worry off your plate. A place to live.

“You know I remember that one time I came to visit you here.” Your hand cupped your stomach instinctually before moving to look out the window. “You met me at the bus stop,” you pointed to the bus stop in view, “and then took me to the diner and made me a burger.” With that, you turned back to him.

“Old habits die hard.” Jess shrugged since it was exactly what he just did. Picked you up at the bus stop and brought you to Luke’s.

“Caesar made me my burger this time.” You corrected him.

“And with no ketchup smiley face, I have to add.” Jess tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows.

“Really changed the whole experience.” You nodded in agreement and then the booth of you laughed.

“So, there really isn’t any food here, and I think the only soap Luke has here is an Irish Spring bar from 2002.” Jess was going to the linen closet to look for anything that resembled a toiletry. “But we have sheets.” He pulled out a blanket and a sheet from the closet on the side that used to be his.

“Jess.” You interrupted him, you could have given him a funny sarcastic response but you saw how much he was scrambling.

He was placing the linens on the bare mattress and turned to look at you, tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I can go to the store, it’s okay.” It was then when you were grabbing your bag from the kitchen table.

“You want company?” He was asking, grabbing his keys.

“Would love that.” You smiled and with that, you were off walking to Doose’s.

The market was cute and had everything you could need in a off-brand label. Jess was holding the basket for you as you added in food and shampoo. As you two stood at the frozen food section, debating the art of the perfect hot pocket, Luke appeared.

The whole interaction was short, less than 2 minutes but it felt like eternity. He was talking to Jess about his mom and TJ, something that honestly was too complex for someone who was new to the conversation to understand, but for someone like Jess who not only knew TJ and Liz but also was privy to information regarding their current distress the answer seemed pretty simple to him despite Luke’s clear frustration. His frustration soon turned to fluster because his eyes moved to your stomach.

It was obvious, he did a full double take. Mid-sentence he looked at you, smiled, greeted you because he remembered you and then went back to talking in a distressed manner to Jess before his brain caught up to his eyes. His eyes moved directly to your stomach and then went wide as his stare went directly to Jess for an explanation.

It was obvious what Luke was thinking despite his lack of ability to say it outloud. The stutters that left his mouth were incoherent but obvious. It was then clear that Jess was related to him because he matched his uncle’s fluster with his own. Trying to explain the situation in stutters, grunts, confused noises and head shakes while Luke similarly flailed around.

When Jess told you Luke was willing to give his apartment up for super cheap every month, you had assumed he was aware of your situation but leave it to Jess to leave out any and all crucial details.

“It’s not Jess’” You interrupted the two men with a neutral voice. “He’s just helping me out in a tough time.”

Luke stood up straight, confusion still littered on his face but relief starting to wash over it. “Oh, uh, it wouldn’t have mattered, I just– kid doesn’t tell me much you know, never has and still doesn’t…” Luke pushed Jess awkwardly with a smile on his face. “I’ll uh,” He brought his hand up to scratch behind his neck and then brought his thumb out to point behind him and just turned to leave.

A chuckle left your mouth as you turned to Jess who looked equally frustrated and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, he uh, is–”

“So much like you.” You finished the sentence for him and smiled before turning to the freezer section and grabbing the pint of ice cream.

Jess looked at you grabbing the mint ice cream and smiled.

“Toothpaste ice cream really?” He grabbed it from your hand and placed it into the basket.

“Always been my favorite, you know this.” You moved to the check out lanes.

“I thought maybe pregnancy would have altered your taste buds to realize the true disgust of it.” He started to place all the items on the belt.

It was honestly his first time really acknowledging the pregnancy. He obviously was aware of it, but even when he ran into you in New York a week ago he never really said anything about it. He just realized you were struggling and knew he was in a position to help.

“You don’t really talk about it.” You passed him items from the basket as he placed them down.

“I figured you’ll tell me when you want.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with you.

“Not really much to tell.” You shrugged and moved to the cash register as he unloaded the rest of the items.

“$72.56” The cashier spoke as they dropped the items into multiple bags.

As you went to grab cash from your bag, Jess moved and handed the person a large bill before you could even get the zipper open.

“Jess.” You said it calmly, but clearly feeling some way about it.

“I wanted to do this for you before you got here but I got caught up in Philly.” His eyes were genuine, and you took a minute to decide if you were going to continue arguing or not. Ultimately you raised your hands and stepped back and let Jess pay.

As you stepped outside with the bags in your hand, Jess immediately came from behind you and took them out of your arms.

“I don’t want you thinking I’m a charity case.”

“Do you not remember that you paid for everything when we were kids? Pizza, refilling my metro card, my CDs.”

“I didn’t pay for your CDs, just lended you the ones I bought for myself.” You corrected him. “Plus, I had a good job making stupid good money for a 15 year old.”

“Well I have a good job making stupid good money for a 30 year old.” He shrugged.

“His name was Glen and he was in a band and decided touring was probably more important than this. Gave me $500 to take care of it.” You blurted out the sentence while both of you were crossing the street, although you stopped to let the words flow out of your mouth so when Jess turned around he was a few steps ahead of you.

“Glen is a really lame name.” He said it so soft, and you knew what he was really saying with that sentence.

“It was the name of his band, too, The Glen.” You felt the tears in the back of your eyes but you didn’t let them escape.

“Even lamer.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” You stared directly at him.

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m ordering Thai food for us tonight and we’re watching Almost Famous.” Jess was turning around to keep walking towards your new place.

You picked up your pace to keep up with him and called out, “I don’t know if you want to give the pregnant lady Thai food!”

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