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thevirgincherry · 4 months

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WASTE ME 3

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. rape/non-con, painal, vomit like a lot of it, emotional abuse

a/n. so messy n rushed cuz i deleted it like 5 times n rewrote it over n over 😭 sorry it’s so flat from leon’s side but omg rbs n feedback appreciated :3 unedited so ignore typos please :3 leon is um. idk I think I changed his character drastically from the last parts but whatever!!! if u see me using shit from old fics ignore it ong

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

one / two

“Can you put that away? I can’t concentrate.” Leon’s hands tighten their grip on the wheel, agitation creeps into his voice as you push the visor back into its place, then very promptly - when you think he’s not looking - pull it back down for the umpteenth time to give yourself a once over. “Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” You say quickly, as if the words have been festering in your mouth for a while now.

“Hey, you don’t have to come.” You do, you have to or I'm in deep shit. I bet a couple hundred on this. A date, that is. In all the years he’s known his friends, not once has he brought a date to their annual New Year’s party. “We’re not too far from your house, I can turn the car around.”

“No,” You shake your head, “No, I want to come with you.”

Leon isn’t sure if he wants you to come with him, if he’s ready for the barrage of questions and insults, namely from Claire. He’s taking you ‘cause there’s no one else, and to be quite frank, he considered hiring an escort before he even thought of you. The thing is, you’ve gotten too comfortable around him. Using pet names, babe and baby, so Leon tried to put some distance between the two of you. ‘Cause that made him queasy. You’re not dating. He’s thirty-seven years old, there’s no room in his life to date, you don’t date at that age. You fuck and get it over with.

“I don’t know what you’re nervous about,” Leon hums, he turns the radio down, “You look nice.” He expects you to fawn over him, throw yourself into his lap ‘cause he said you don’t look bad. That’s what you’re like, right? Doesn’t take a whole lot to get your tail wagging.

“Don’t say that.” The tone in which you speak is new, Leon hasn’t heard that before. Not been on the receiving end of any mood swings you’re bound to have. You have the emotional capacity of a toddler - no form of regulation over any of your thoughts and feelings, words slip past your lips like you’ve got the shits. Verbally speaking.

“What?” He asks, dumbfounded by the total switch.

“I don’t like it… I don’t like when you say things like that, it feels like you're lying.” And he’s not. That might be the first time he’s ever told you the truth so directly.

“I’m not, why would I lie about that?” Oh, so all of a sudden you’ve managed to grasp the concept of self respect? Talking back to him and shit. You know, Leon’s kinda proud of you. One of you had to break free from the binds of your swaddling cloth sooner or later. One of you has to cut ties, and it sure as hell won’t be him. It’s not that you’ve grown on him, instead you’ve torn open his flesh and slipped between the cracks in his ribs. Nestled into his chest cavity and made it your home. Or he’s just real lonely.

“I’m not stupid, Leon.”

“I never said you were stupid.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m stupid.”

“What? No, I’m not. I’m looking straight ahead, ‘cause I’m driving?”

“Yeah? Well, keep looking at the road.” You huff through your nostrils, and it’s absurd, the shit you come up with. All it does is show your age. He’s fucking a kid, one that can’t even drink yet.

Leon does just that, neither of you utter a word for the remainder of the journey. When he gets out, you catch up with him, take his arm in yours as if it belongs to you, he’d rather you take his heart. So all the tenderness would be zapped from his system. Leon’s love comes in the shape of your casket, it comes with the engravings on your tombstone, empty and cadaverous. It’s not enough for you, you don’t know that, but he does. Leon’s a weeping sore of a man, the kind that won’t go away, not with over-the-counter pills, not the type that gets drained, not even antibiotics could help him. You’re licking his wounds and getting nothing from it, nothing but a mouthful of infectious pus.

“Leon— Oh.” The smile on Claire’s face drops as quick as it came, her forehead creases, and he’d like to tell her pretty girls shouldn’t frown so hard, they’ll get wrinkles, but she’d have his head. Tell him that it’s a natural progression, and that he’s looking a little rough these days, he should try keto. Leon has been on keto most his life if dick counts as meat.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, draws you closer, smiling with all his teeth to show Claire that he really likes you when he really doesn’t. Well, he does, it’s just complicated. “Claire.” Leon greets with a nod of his head, he introduces you despite the uneasiness, then guides you to sit on an unoccupied seat beside Rebecca, his hand on your lower back.

From the corner of his eye, Leon watches you shift in your seat as Claire asks him if this is a thing now - cherry picking. If he’s going through a midlife crisis, and that she knows a guy who knows a girl who knows a good shrink, one that keeps real quiet. Then their conversation gets derailed and she begins to talk about Simone de Beauvoir, wrote a book called The Second Sex apparently, Claire reveres it, and Leon is confused on how they got to here.

Hunnigan argues that The Second Sex others women of colour very brashly, and it’s not quite argumentative because Hunnigan talks factually, like everything she says is right, and it usually is. It’s impressive how often she teeters on a condescending edge. She says Claire should read more on intersectionality, and Claire nods, bats her lashes ‘cause she listens to pretty ladies well. The only intersection Leon knows of is a road junction— he wonders how you’re doing with Rebecca, so he excuses himself from the conversation. Hunnigan tells him that he wasn’t included in the first place.

When he catches sight of you, you’re sitting alone, picking at whatever piece of food you can get, leg bouncing so hard the table does too. Chris grabs his arm and drags his arm towards Jill, and then it’s Sherry, who is always a joy, and then Ashley, and her dad who Leon, for some reason, thought was in a wheelchair. He gets to you a full forty minutes later.

“Woah, slow down, are you okay?” Leon takes your wrist in his, wonders how to word this correctly, without you taking any offence. “You’re eating a lot.” Shit. Not the best opener.

“I am not.” There’s a droplet of sweat trickling down the column of your neck, he wipes it with his thumb. “Am I? Did you notice? Oh my gosh, you so did. Did anyone else notice? Why did you take so long? I didn’t know what to do, Leon. Was I supposed to say anything? Was I meant to come with you?”

“Listen, calm down, god, no— just, I told you to sit here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” You nod, tremors making your hands unsteady as you take his. “I think I should go.”

“What?” Leon’s face twists, “I gotta stay, Sherry wants me to stay, I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

You bristle at this, shoulders slumping, “No, I don’t need you to drop me, I can just get a cab back, I just feel a little out of place, Leon. Like, I know no one even knows my name, but I just feel like they’re all looking at me and talking about me and I feel so stupid.”

He gets it, truly. “You should stay.” Leon’s fingers intertwine with yours, though it’s nothing gentle, it’s to keep you under lock and key. A threat of sorts.

“Leon, I don’t really, like, I’m just sitting here eating on my own, I look like a freak.” You said it, not him.

“You could try to engage, y’know?” And it’s so hypocritical for him to say, ‘cause Leon needs a drink or five before he can even stomach talking to the older Redfield. Not that Chris is a bad guy, he’s just so intensely stupid sometimes.

“Leon,” You take your hand back, and it’s the first time you’ve denied him of anything, “I don’t think they really care if I’m here or not, I’m going home.” It’s not a question, not Leon, may I go home now, pretty please? It’s an assertion, you’re firm in your wants, and he hates it. You’re stepping out of line.

So Leon does what he does best, he fucks it up. Back to square one with your blood caked beneath his fingernails and your tears salty on his tongue. ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what you want, it hasn’t mattered before so why would it matter now? He cradles the back of your head when it knocks against the bathroom stall, tips it forward so he can kiss you sweetly. And you’re a sucker for it, hands fisting at the fabric of his dress shirt like a baby. When you’re bare, he kneels down, spreads you apart, and you’re so wet there’s slick dripping down your ass crack. Embarrassing how fast you get it on for him, and Leon’s here with a semi you could barely class as a semi. Though that’s more of a Leon problem.

The nip to your clit makes you gasp, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he likes that. Leon presses his nose to it, laps at the slick to clean you up, but he’s only getting you messier. He spreads your ass to lick deeper into your hole, then his hand leaves so his middle and forefinger can keep your cushioned lips open, teeth scraping over your slippery folds. Leon’s mouth is moving on autopilot, his brain is working overtime, what’s he gonna do? How can he make you stay? Right, right, right, that’s gotta be it. When Leon pulls away with a pop! you whine, he’s always kind enough to let you cum. Not this time.

“Hold on, kid,” Leon murmurs, spins you around and you brace yourself against the walls of the cubicle automatically. They seem paper thin. He keeps a hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt with a clink as he lowers his jeans to slip out his cock that hardens only at the thought of taking you this way. You flail when he pushes into your tighter hole. The puffy rim is wet with your arousal, not wet enough to take cock. He wasn’t even merciful enough to spit on it.

“No, no, oh god, Leon, no, I’m gonna die, Leon, you’ll kill me.” Your bones crack out of place with how hard you struggle against him, limbs angled oddly, and he hates it. No doesn’t sound right coming from you. It’s a tough one, breaching your asshole, getting past the dryness.

You clench so hard, try to push him out, he kisses the nape of your neck, the tackiness of sweat salty on his lips. “Stop runnin’ from it, I’ve got you.”

“Please— Please, please, Leon,” Your cheek is squashed against the cubicle door, nails scratching at it till they crack and split. He reaches round to cover your mouth, you’re getting too loud. There’s snot and tears and spit covering his palm, but it’s alright. Worth it.

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon do it for me. You can do it for me, can’t you? You’re not a baby.” Leon’s teeth tug on your earlobe, he manages to bury himself to the hilt in your ass. A miracle really, ‘cause he can barely move an inch back or forth.

You’re gasping for breath, knees buckling despite him supporting your weight. The pain must be bad, he knows what it’s like, that sickeningly raw pain. Feels like it’s in your guts, stirring up all the acid, tangling your intestines. But he got over it, and you got over it once upon a time. So you can do it, he knows you can.

For a minute, he thinks you stop breathing, you slump over and he struggles to hold you up, then he gets ahold of you. You’re dry heaving, retching as you claw at the cubicle, he draws his hips back and you whimper brokenly into his palm. There’s an abundance of resistance, but Leon’s strong enough to push past it, his strokes are shallow - can’t find it in himself to fuck you hard and deep. Well, Leon would, but it’s too much effort.

There’s no letting up, you’re stubborn today, his free hand reaches round to tweak your nipple, then it trails down your body, cups your cunt and parts your fold to thumb your swollen clit. It does little to lessen the ache, the burn, but Leon hopes you’ll loosen up. “Hey, you got it, jus’ focus on my fingers, okay?”

“Okay, Leon,” You get out through ragged breaths, chest rising up and down unevenly as you try to regain some sort of consciousness, he's raped you into delirium. Leon grits his teeth, that word is harsh on his ears still. “Okay… I’ll try, I’ll try… I’m trying—“

“I know you are,” Leon talks you through it, talks you through rape unlike the first time, so that must mean something, give him some kind of credit. “I know it hurts, it’ll get better, yeah? I promise.”

“I can’t breathe— Leon, I can’t-“ Your hands press down on your stomach, then your chest, heart beating wildly, to the point where he thinks he can hear it.

“You can breathe, ‘cause you’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?” He asks, “Remember what you said to me? You said I could do this.”

“I know… I know, Leon, I’m really sorry— God, it hurts so bad.” Another sob is muffled into his wet palm.

“I know, but you said you would do it for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Leon, I’m sorry, I did— I did.” You shiver, head jerking to the side as he pulls back, then slams his hips back into you - so hard your knees knock against the cubicle. The pressure on your clit alleviates nothing it seems, even when he presses a little harder, you continue to kick and squirm.

“Just a little more, yeah?” Leon tells you, he kisses your shoulder for good measure, starts up a rhythmic pace that rewards him with a squeaky yelp each time he thrusts. You’re uncomfortably tight, and it’s pretty dry, but Leon makes do, most nights his fist is drier.

Sweat prickles at your delicate skin, and your body goes rigid when he cums, he jams himself so far into you Leon fears he might have trouble pulling out. Dick might come off clean. He smooths a hand down your spine, “You’re okay.” Leon says, and it’s more of an order than anything else.

He takes your clothes from where they’re hung on the single hook, he might be a serial rapist, but he’s a gentleman. Serial might be a stretch, Leon’s not quite at that point yet, and he doesn’t intend to be. But he might be your serial rapist, ‘cause it’s happened multiple times and all.

Your gait is off, more so than last time, taking shuddering breaths as you clutch at his arm. Leon doesn’t know what to say, he leads you out the back, ‘cause Claire will look him in the eye and know what he’s done. Step by step, you wobble towards the door to the passenger seat, crumpling against it as you fumble with the handle.

“Let me do it,” Leon grows impatient, steps forward, you jump out of your skin, snapping out of your haze as you manage to open the door. Your teeth are chattering, and you’re clammy, ribs rattling noisily when you cough. He wonders if he’s really done it now, fucked over his chance with you of all people.

Every time there’s a bump in the road, you wince visibly, nails digging into the leather of his seat to try and conceal any noise leakage. “Leon?”

He stops at a red light, turns to you in surprise, didn’t think you were capable of speaking right now. “Yeah?”

“Do you think she’s cute? The one who dresses like Jackie O?” Of course it’s some insecure shit like that, the first thing you say to break the silence post-rape is a question about whether or not he likes a girl.

“Ashley’s pretty.” Leon answers, face that launched a thousand ships - or a thousand Molotov cocktails, right at him actually, by the hands of religious zealots. He thinks that if it weren’t for a lot of things, they could’ve worked out, and maybe he wouldn’t have resorted to getting drunk and raping college kids in alleys.

“Leon, I think I’m gonna throw up.” Your voice is low, shaky, rolling down the window and letting the chill hit your warm face.

“I can pull over.” Leon offers, he can’t bother to go through with dry cleaning. Rather it come out on the side of the road than his carpets.

“No, never mind, I’m fine.” You go quiet again, then, “What about the big guy, do you like him?”

“What?” He looks like he’s constipated, the idea of Chris and him is an interesting one that’s never crossed his mind. Sure, he’s objectively attractive, but he’s so hardheaded it pisses Leon off. “No, well, yeah, I like him ‘cause he’s my friend.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.” You lie, and he knows you’re lying, because you’re you, and he knows you. Predictable little thing. “Okay, so, what about the girl you were talking to at the beginning when we came in. Ponytail, red jacket.”

“God, no, Claire’s just my friend.”

“Yeah, I know, Leon. I’m asking if, like, you like her. As a friend. I just want to know more about you.” Liar, he indulges you anyway. He owes you one, and maybe money for hospital bills.

“She’s my best friend,” Leon claims, she might not think of him that way, but Leon certainly thinks of Claire that way. “Of course I like her, I love her.”

“Then who was the lady with glasses? The tall one?” You peer at him hesitantly, the dark obscures much of your face from him, but he sees your wide eyes.

“Hunnigan? Yeah, she’s hot, I don’t want her though.” Too brash, his tongue slipped. It’s more that she doesn’t want him. Leon wouldn’t tell you that though. He’s patient for you, lets you ask questions that reek of insecurity before he’s pulling up on his drive.

“I don’t want to take them off,” You’re quick to stop his wandering hands, eyes going foggy and faraway when he tries to get you out of your underwear, “Please, Leon.” There’s blood smeared on the backs of your thighs that Leon pretends not to notice.

And because he’s so kind, and reeling with guilt from the whole public bathroom sodomy situation, Leon abides. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, I’ll just get you off.” You insist, squeezing his half-hearted boner, thumbing the tip, cupping his balls, all the stuff he’s taught you to do. He might not get it up, ‘cause he’s had a drink, and ‘cause he’s still spent from earlier. Rape is no joke, shit takes a lot of effort, fucking a dry hole is not as pleasing as bootcamp made it seem.

Your mouth is warm on his cock, you lick along the vein on his underside, kiss the tip sweetly like you love him - it’s not like ‘cause you do love him. The head rests weighty on your tongue, you take half of him easily. You’re not the best at sucking dick, so he doesn’t expect much from you, expectations already reduced to zero, but Leon tilts his head back with a groan when you begin to bob your head. Look at that, you’ve gotten better.

Really, he should’ve known, seen all the signs. The tell-tale bulge in your throat, something foreign, not his dick ‘cause shits not the big. You felt sick in the car, he’d seen you gag over the toilet bowl after he came inside you. Leon’s reflexes are good, but not good enough. When you finally make it to the balls, eyes wet with unshed tears as he pushes your limits, nose in his crotch— you go to raise your head, he makes the mistake of pushing you back down. Biggest mistake of his life. And Leon has made a lot of mistakes.

He’s had monster after monster spew their god knows what on him. Been knee-deep in sewers, he’s been pissed on by military men for fuck’s sake. Somehow, this tops it off. You sicking up hors d'oeuvres on his lap. Vomit on his dick is the worst feeling Leon’s felt in quite a while. He’d rather break his ribs again and again and again and again. Over and over. Have them caved in by a metal pipe.

You lurch backwards, vomit caked around your mouth, coating his cock, dripping down your chin. God, he might add to the mess, but Leon’s got a strong enough stomach to hold it. Happy New Year! God Bless America. Isn’t this just the dream?

“Oh my god,” You gasp, wipe at your mouth drearily with your bare arm, breathing picking up as you stagger away from him, “God, no, no, no.”

He blinks at you, and you stare at him shell-shocked. Leon inhales, counts to ten, he's been through worse. He has. Honest. What’s a little puke on his cock going to do?

“I’m sorry, Leon, I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, Leon, I’m so sorry, what do I do?” You fumble and use his blanket to wipe him clean, doing a shit job as he anticipated. “I can do it, I can do it, I can get you off, I’m sorry, please, let me make it up to you, Leon.” Then you’re clocking in for your shift, sloppy and hurried all at once as you suck him off, only for a moment- then a wave of nausea hits and a second bout of puke is spewed on his lap, waterlogging his sheets as it trickles down his thighs. Fuck, it’s fucking gross. Made the place into a biohazard.

“Hey, c’mon—“

“No, no, Leon,” You retch, spit bubbling in the back of your throat as you shake your head in wild refusal, “I can do it, please, please,” He feels you swallow around him, tight little throat that’s only got space for vomit and not his cock, ‘cause it’s pushed out of your mouth as you gag and drip liquified party food. Your head pops back up, dabbing at the stickiness that covers the bottom half of your face to no avail.

“Kid.” Leon grabs you by your hair, straightens you up so you’re facing him, drool pooling in your mouth, tongue heavy as you’re racked with full body shivers to warn you of more. This time you make it to the bathroom, courtesy of Leon, there’s vomit tracked down his hall, on the rug Sherry bought him to brighten up his boring bedroom. “Let it all out,” He’s trying his best to be comforting, rubbing your back as your head hangs limp in the toilet bowl till there’s nothing but bile and spit.

Leon lets you shower first, ‘cause y’know, he loves sitting around soaked in barf. Really lets it marinate. He watches your figure through the foggy glass, barely able to keep yourself up, leaning against the wall when you have to wash anything from the waist below. God, he fucked you up. Maybe the vomit bath is more than deserved. He feels it crust over on his dick and itches.

“Are you okay now?” Leon mumbles, his body takes on your curled up shape, knows you could use the comfort.

The mattress in his room has been stripped bare, sheets put on a double spin in the washing machine. For now, the two of you lay close in the guest room that’s been unused since he moved in. “I’m okay.” You whisper, placing your hand over his when he wraps his arm around you. He thinks you’ve fallen asleep going by how still you are. “Leon?”

He wonders if it’s worth pretending to be asleep, can’t lie that he forgives you for that, then any ounce of initial hostility ebbs away and he feels white, hot guilt. “Yeah?”

“Before I met you, I would think of all this stupid shit, like I wanted to get ran over so people would care about me, or they’d feel bad for me, and then I stopped thinkin’ like that when we started dating.” You’re not dating him. Leon’s unsure on how to make that explicitly clear. “But, then, I started thinking like that again. ‘Cause I thought I wanted you to rape me ‘cause I thought you liked me, I wouldn’t mind if you liked me, I would let you do anything to me. I thought that you’d feel bad and take care of me after but you don’t, you just act like it didn’t happen.”

Leon closes his eyes, lashes fluttering on the skin of your back, the light tickle is slight enough as to not alarm you. He listens to you, but he doesn’t know what to think, what to say, it’s a lot.

“I only want you to rape me if you like me, but you hate me.” And that’s so far from the truth, Leon doesn’t hate you, and he doesn’t love you, but he does want you. For reasons he can’t explain himself. “I just, I don’t want you to rape me ‘cause you hate me, I want you to hold my hand after and sometimes I want you to kiss me.”

“So if I start liking you, I can do it?” Grown fucking man and he can’t say rape out loud. Leon wonders why it comes so naturally to you, how you can talk so openly about topics he can’t stomach despite being the perpetrator of said topic.

“Yeah, I just want you to like me, Leon.” You don’t beg, it’s pleading, thumb stroking over his knuckles.

“I’ll try.” Leon gives his oath, he’s a bad person he thinks. Not ‘cause of his mom, not ‘cause of dad, not ‘cause of all the shit back in Raccoon City, not ‘cause of bootcamp— none of it. It’s ’cause he feels like it, and he does it to you on purpose, and Leon knows that, but he can’t fix it. “I’ll try.” He repeats to himself, knowing very well his attempt will fall flat.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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teeth-farie · 10 months

Text

Forty Year Old Virgin

Johnathon Ohnn/GN Reader

Notes: virginity, null spot, hole fingering, dry humping, clothed sex, kinda tribadism, spit, alcohol, spot being pathetic, 3.5k

☞. . . Seems like I’m back from my little hiatus!! I actually started writing this fic yesterday and it’s the FASTEST I’ve ever finished one. I blame the spot server I’m in

Johnathon Ohnn is thirty-eight years old. He knows this because he always liked celebrating his birthday, even if they got less eventful over the years. He still enjoyed the candles and the cake, he still enjoyed how his family would come together to sing for him and how his coworkers would sign a group card.

Johnathon was thirty-seven when the collider exploded. He didn’t realize his birthday had passed until he looked at a calendar. And really, how pitiful was that? No candles, no cake, not even a sloppily signed card. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he craved normality.

It wasn’t long after that he met you, significantly younger and full of spunk. It made him feel a little youthful again, like he was back in that old dorm room at the shiny age of twenty. Admittedly he didn’t do as many fun things as you did at his age, he mostly studied and contemplated taking Adderall to get through his finals, but he digressed.

But observing you made him realize just how many things he missed out on during his youth. Sure, he sneaked a couple of his dad's beers as a teen and broke some college lab equipment he wasn’t supposed to be touching, rebellious things like that, but that wasn’t truly living.

Before, he thought his accomplishments would speak for him; his doctorates and files of studies, his collider. But now, as he watches and listens to the dramatic reenactments of your late teenage hood and early adult life, Johnathon begins to realize maybe science isn’t the end all be all of his life. He realizes that he never went to any parties in college, he never had a quarrel-filled romance his parents disapproved of, he never traveled outside of the country aside from work—and as his eyeless gaze flits downwards, taking in the sight that is you in incredibly short shorts, he realizes another thing.

He’s never had sex, either.

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, because he really desperately did, it’s more like he never got the chance. Between his academics that shot straight to the workforce and his lack of genuine attraction to anyone around him, it got put on the back burner.

But now it’s all he can think about.

He thinks about it when he watches your hands gesture wildly, the way they look so agile yet sturdy. He thinks about it when your shirts are low cut or rising up your midriff. He thinks about it when you stand close to him and all he can smell is you. He thinks about it when your hips shimmy to a song you like. He thinks about it when-

Ahem.

He thinks. A lot.

Johnathon has never had a quiet mind, that much is true. He’s never figured out whether or not it was a good thing, but considering how much material his brain has given him for lonely nights, it can’t all be bad.

Well. That was before the collider blew his dick clean off too. Which was another thing on his long long list of ‘Is living still worth it? I’m not too sure.’ (Except now he finally has a pro on that list, thanks to you.)

He can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous, however, hearing you talk briefly about past flings and relationships. Although he couldn’t exactly distinguish whether or not he felt jealous of your experience, or jealous of the men in your stories. He knows he could be better, even if he had virtually no experience to go off of. Despite it all, he still thinks to himself that he could make himself into someone you wanted, someone good for you. (Though he does also wonder if that’s perhaps his newly inflated ego talking.)

Johnathon sighs and holds his head in his hands. His hand briefly falls through the hole in his face and comes out of his thigh. Regardless of what he thinks could happen and what could be, he knows deep down that you couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Still, a man is allowed to dream, right?

…

As it turns out, dreams do come true.

Or at least a drunk, sloppy version of them.

To be fair, Johnathon didn't think he still could get drunk, so it wasn't his fault that he was a bit heavy-handed with the bottle. It didn’t help that you were so influencing either, all too eager to dump the rest of your bottle down the hole in his face just to see where it’d go. Apparently, liquids dissolved down quickly in his voided body before they could emerge out of another hole. So, he drank. He drank because it was the first time he could feel any kind of normalcy, he could feel like he was human again. Unfortunately for him, he's still just as loose-lipped when drunk as he was before the collider incident.

You swirl the foamy remnants of beer in your bottle, watching it swirl through the brown glass before swallowing it down with a tip of your head. Johnathon watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow, entranced. You breathe out, satisfied, and set the bottle down on the coffee table amongst all the others.

“Y’know,” You begin, leaning back against the couch cushions, legs curled up comfortably to your chest. “You’re not as bad looking as you think.” You’re squinting your eyes a little at him, as if you were examining his body. “Lotsa people are into your kinda thing.”

Johnathon’s face hole constricts a little as if he were narrowing his eyes. “My kinda thing? What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“You know! Like…like not human looking.” You’re still looking at him, grinning, fingers picking at the hem of your pajama pants.

He makes a sound like a scoff. “That’s not really a compliment…”

You whine in subtle frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, you have different kinds of qualities. Good qualities.” You poke your finger out at him, jabbing his chest. Your fingertip sinks into one of his inkblot holes and it gives Johnathon a feeling that he knows he’ll be thinking about later tonight when he's all alone. You replace your finger to actually poke his chest now, the smooth, almost rubbery skin of him. He shivers a little nonetheless.

“What…” he swallows thickly. “What kind of qualities?”

You continue to idly run circles over his chest with your index finger, humming softly to yourself. “I know the regular things, like how much of a good listener and talker you are. You know lots about stuff. And you also are like, super eager to please. That’s gotta be a good quality too.”

Johnathon looks down at your hand, his black little heart thumping in his chest. It’s almost too intimate for him to bear.

“Oh! And your holes!”

“My…my holes?”

“Yeah, I bet you can do some crazy things with them.”

“Oh god–” He nearly chokes at the thought running in his head.

“Yeah,” you continue, pulling your hand back to yourself. Johnathon hates how it makes him feel lonely. “I once met a guy who had crazy holes, haha, you could fit a whole fist in ther–”

“OH wow, really?” He quickly cuts you off, his paper-white face flushing a dull blue. He flaps his hands a little, as if it could cool down both his flustering and spiking jealousy. “I don’t think you should k-kiss and tell, right? Isn’t that a thing we’re not supposed to do? Kissing and…telling?” God, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss you.

“Oh, c’mon! I know there has to be at least something you’ve done that you just gotta talk about. What is it, huh? Weird partner? Did they have a weird fetish?” You gasp suddenly. “Oh god, a pregnancy scare maybe?…pregnancy fetish?”

“No, no, none of that!” Johnathon waves his hands out in front of him rapidly, hoping to quell your questioning. “I’ve never uh- never really–”

“What, are you vanilla? Usually, nerds are like, SUPER kinky–”

“I’ve never had sex!” Curse him and his loose lips.

The air goes still amongst the sudden silence and Johnathon begins to regret ever speaking. Actually, scrap that, he regrets ever being born. Well, it’s actually not like he really had a choice in the matter, but that's beside the point.

Then, you snort a little. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? Aren’t you like, forty?”

His face hole shrinks down nearly to the side of a pinhole in both embarrassment and frustration. “I-I’m not forty! I’m thirty-eight! A-and besides, lots of people don’t have sex until they’re older! Or at all!”

“Oh my god, this is like that one movie, what’s it called, uhh,”

You tap your chin, completely ignoring him.

“I should have never said anything, I’m such an idiot—“

“No, don’t say that!” You poke his chest again, whining when he recoils from your touch. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I’m sorry.”

Johnathon huffs, grabbing one of the half-full bottles and dumping it down his face hole. It scrunches slightly in what you’ve begun to assume is swallowing. You pout and scoot up closer to him. “Johnny…”

He chokes a little, his gangly body going stiff. “Y-yeah?”

You grab his face, fingers pressing against his pale, rubbery cheeks. “You wanna do it?”

For a moment, Johnathon feels like the world has gone still. Everything is muffled and slow as the realization dawns on him. “Wuh-what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You repeat, squishing his cheeks after each word like you were making him say them too.

“Yes! I-I mean, I would really like to, you’re so pretty, b-but uh, I’m a little, hah, how do you say it, ohmygosh this is harder than I thought it’d be! Uhm!” He flusters and rambles, hands flapping in front of his chest, and you’re just waiting. You’re looking at him with lidded, bedroom eyes, and Johnathon thinks he finally understands the meaning of that word.

“I don’t have, I don’t have a penis!”

A beat goes by, and then another, and he begins to feel like he blew his only shot with you.

“Do you have a vagina? It’s not an issue for me, I wanna fuck you either way.”

Jesus Christ, you are going to kill him.

“I mean, I don’t have anything.” He breathes out, shoulders deflating. “The uh, the whole collider thing got rid of it all.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.” You pat his shoulder, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “But, y’know, the offer still stands…maybe we can get a little science-y and figure out how to get you off, eh?”

Johnathon lifts his head and finds you grinning at him. “Science-y?” He repeats, his face hole crinkling like a smile.

“Yeah, dude! Science-y! Hypothesis! Theories! Quantum holes! Your holes!”

He snorts and it leads into a laugh, a deep belly laugh that he hasn’t been able to do in a while. And really, why the hell not?

His laugh dies down when you get closer, straddling his thighs and seating yourself down in his lap—and god, he can feel those short shorts he loves riding up your thighs and wrinkling against his skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You croon, leaning in and nudging your nose under his chin. If Johnathon still had a dick, that would have sent blood right down to it.

His inkblot holes quiver amongst his body, undulating and jumping across his skin like microscopic particles, bouncing against each other under a microscope. Your face gets closer to his, lips hovering over the entrance of his face. Gently, curiously, you purse your lips and kiss the voided space. It’s almost as if there’s a thin membrane separating the outside world from the inside of him, cool to the touch and like bubblegum stretched thin. The membrane melds against your lips like it’s kissing you back and when Johnathon shivers, it puckers and purses.

His hands tremble, hovering above your hips and thighs, as if it’d burn him to touch you properly, despite how much he craves it.

Your tongue drags over the edge of his face hole and Johnathon practically whimpers. You’re humming softly, one hand idly stroking his arm as the other feels up his chest. He used to be a tad bit insecure about his pudgy torso, but with so many spots, he had other things to outweigh the worry. But now he can’t help but hold his breath, waiting for your approval of his body, the kind he so desperately needs.

“Cute.” You say mostly to yourself, dipping your fingers into a hole in his chest. He sighs out heavily in relief and pleasure, his head thumping back against the edge of the couch.

“How’s this feel?” You poke and prod into the hole, pressing past the same kind of membrane as his face. Vaguely, you feel your fingertips come back out of another hole, but you don’t focus as much on that part.

“Good,” Jonathan answers curtly, sucking a breath through his nonexistent teeth. When he exhales, it's shuddery and almost pitiful. “It’s good, it’s like- like there but not,”

“So you can feel it? What if I do something like this?” Curiously, you curl your fingers in the empty space, and a fuzzy feeling coats your skin as if your fingers were pruning yet stayed completely dry. He yelps loudly, his body lurching and he finally grabs onto you. His fingers dig into your thighs on their own accord and you are absolutely delighted with it.

“Oh god!” He cries, his thighs shifting and squirming under your lap, and you start to feel something poking at your ass. You give a confused hum, lift your hips and look down. Nope, he still doesn't have a dick, but the empty space between his legs has seemingly swollen into a small, adorable bulge. Johnathon breathes out heavily and follows your gaze.

“Wow, that’s so cool…” You reach down between your laps and grind the heel of your palm against the bulge.

He gasps sharply. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s what I'm trying to do.” You snicker impishly. You observe the way the squishy bulge flushes with color around the surface, almost like a blush. “I bet that feels really good, huh? It’s kinda like you have a really big clit. Sorta” You squish it in your hands and he shudders, shoulders tensing and inkblot shrinking. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

Johnathon feels a little loopy, his stomach filled with butterflies and his brain thoroughly mush. He considers this endeavor so far to be successful considering the fact he didn't think he still could feel pleasure. But here you are, proving him wrong once again.

“Wh-what would?” He finds himself asking, rutting his hips up into your hand like a depraved little thing.

You don’t answer verbally yet, just sit back down on his lap and rock your hips against his. “If you fucked yourself like this.” Your fingers curl back into one of his holes, running up and down the edge of it. Johnathon melts, blubbering out nearly unintelligible pleas.

“You can do it, right? I’ll keep fingering you if you hump me like a dirty dog.”

And oh, that does things to him. He’ll…have to address that new kink later.

“Yes,” he gasps, grabbing on tightly to your hips and canting his hips up, grinding his bulge against your sex. “Yessss!” He can’t help but cry it out, his smooth head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck from the sheer intensity of it all. The heat of you is almost unbearable on his body, inside his holes. And he really is panting like a dog, he’s humping you like he actually has a dick to work with, like you could grab him and stroke him until he was a weeping mess.

“That’s it, you don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, right? C’mon, show me what you’re made of, you little nerd.” You’re cooing to him like it’s praise, and with the way you’re stroking the inside of him, pressing your fingers past that membrane and curling until the fuzziness is almost unbearable, you might as well be.

Johnathon moans wetly against your neck, legs widening and hands holding your hips down firmly as he ruts. He grinds his aching core against you, practically delirious and melting with every saccharine whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna cum,” you hear him say, muffled against your skin and devious delight spreads through your entire being. You hook your fingers into the hole of his face and he cries out, a debauched “Ah! Ah!” as you lift his head up. His inkblot holes shiver violently, and you hold his face in your hands like he’s your entire world, like he’s the only thing that matters to you.

And then you lean in, holding his face so carefully—

And spit.

The man below you gurgles, your spit falling down the hole in his face as a viscous glob tasting faintly of beer. Johnathon thrusts his hips up once, twice, and he’s cumming. Nothing comes out of him, but you swear you can see the holes of him drooling, dripping liquid dark matter that hurts your eyes a little to stare at too long. Pleasure blooms in you at the sight and feeling of his incessant rutting, your hands petting his head as his first orgasm in so long washes over him.

And finally, he slumps back against the couch, trembling under you, the surface of his face flushed with color. You lift yourself off his lap, your shorts still wet with your own arousal, but you’re not done with him yet.

“It’s no good to leave your partner high and dry, you know?” You tease him, and the realization dawns on his faceless face.

“O-OH! Oh, I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t mean- that wasn’t my intention at all! Wh-what should I do? What do you like? Oh god, I’m so sorry—“

You quiet him by lifting his gangly legs up, exposing him even further. “Don't worry about it, it’s your first time! That just means I’ll have to use you.” That evil little grin is back as you brace one foot on the floor and the other on the couch cushions, slotting your hips against his. Poor Johnathon is practically folded in half, one leg hanging over your shoulder and the other dangling uselessly to the side.

You don’t waste any time either, you get right to it, hips thrusting quick and hard against his over sensitive bulge. And oh, how he squeals. He’s always been a talkative man, but he never could have anticipated being this vocal.

“Uhgn! Hah! Mmm-mmph! I-I can’t! S’too much, too much!” He babbles on, sights locked on how your hips connect with his, ruthlessly grinding and rutting and it reminds him of some kind of wild animal.

“You can, huff, take it. Jus’ a lil more,'' your head hangs low between your shoulders, arousal twining together deep in your gut. Johnathon feels it too, and he feels it tenfold. His body feels like it’s on fire, steadily submerged in pleasure until he’s burning alive in it. He can’t take how you look above him either, so goddamn ethereal, the dim overcast of the tv lighting you from behind like a digital halo, as if you were an angel sent to soothe him after such chaos. Johnathon was never a religious man, but for you, he thinks he could be.

It only takes you a little longer, already so wound tight from before. He’s dangling on the precipice of release again, delirious with lust, clinging onto the back of your neck and tugging you in.

You find your face inside of him when you cum, and somehow the deprivation of sensory makes it all the better, colors popping up in your vision like synesthesia. You can feel his thighs tighten around you with his budding climax, but you can’t see, and you already know how you regret that. You suppose you’ll just have to overstimulate him again one day when he can’t hide himself from your view.

Johnathon goes limp and you’re finally able to pull your face from the inside of his, the dark matter sliding free from your skin like an unsticky slime. It’s weird, but oddly refreshing.

Cum stains the inside of your shorts but it’s the last thing on your mind when you take in the visual that is Johnathon. He practically glows with post coital bliss, seeped back into couch cushions without the tension you’re so used to.

You let his legs fall back down, slumping into the seat next to him. He hums softly in delight, kinda loopy, entirely pleased.

“So?” You question him, idly stroking his soft chest. It’s sweaty in its own way. “Was that good for your very first time?” You waggle your brows at him and he snorts, albeit a little weakly.

“Incredibly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life.”

You clap happily. “And you’re no longer a forty year old virgin!”

“I told you I’m NOT forty!”

#the spot #johnathon ohnn #spicy #sub atsv #the spot x reader

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adventuringblind · 5 months

Text

Misheard, Misjudged

Lando Norris x Leclerc Reader

Genre: Angst with a pinch of spice

Summary: Lando overhears a conversation and thinks it’s about him

Warnings: Lando’s self-esteem plummets

Notes: I’m aware I have things to do but I’m doing a friend a favor

Masterlist

Lando and the little Leclerc are everybody’s favorite couple. He clings to her every second of every day and she gets livid when her brother call her little. Younger then Arthur by a minute and she never hears the end of it.

Their families love them, the fans love them, but most importantly is that they love each other.

They met when Arthur started racing again. She was bored without her partner in crime, so Charles took her on as is social media manager. Needles to say they banter a lot. Charles’ fashion choices are horrendous at times but she loves him nonetheless.

Charles teases them all the time about how they are practically glued together. Which is probably true, considering they are like magnets in the paddock.

So in Lando’s head, it makes no sense why she would say such things about him. In their home. With her friends.

‘Sure he’s good looking, but like - is there really anything else? He’s so childish and whines like a bitch. Also, have you seen how clingy he is?”

He couldn’t listen anymore after that. Is he really that clingy? And for all intensive purposes, isn’t she also clingy? He never thought it was that bad. Sure, people tease, but who cares what they think? Or, maybe he’s just overthinking and he should just ask about it.

Scratch that - a terrible plan. Instead he shall withdrawal himself and see if it makes her happier.

The first week she looks confused and a little hurt by his actions, but she doesn’t say anything. No more initiated physical contact. No random hugs and kisses. He doesn’t cling to her during the race weekend like normal.

See! He isn’t cling! if anything, she’s definitely the more clingy one out of the two.

Week two hurt more then the first. He catches snippets of a few phone calls between her and Charles. She’s locked in the bathroom and her voice is cracking. “I don’t understand what I did, Charlie.”

Doesn’t understand what she did? You can’t just say things about a person and expect everything to be okay after. Why doesn’t she talk to him about it? If she wanted more space he would’ve just rather have talked about it then have overheard the love of his life shattering his heart into pieces.

He turns her back to her in bed starting week three. She looks tired over the next few days. Not just yawning, but the dark circles under red eyes screams that something is wrong.

she starts leaving sticky notes on his things, on the counters, the insides of cabinets, and even plastered all over thee mirror.

He ignores them. Yet his mind starts to wonder if maybe he should just ask her why. But it’s not like she talked to him, so why she he talk to her now?

He wonders again when he catches Max glaring at him.

And again when Oscar grows concerned.

And then when George gives a PowerPoint presentation with how to communicate properly.

Yeah, ok - so this wasn’t the right way to go about this. He really wishes George and his stupid PowerPoint had come earlier.

The icing on the cake is when he comes home one day and passes Charles as he’s leaving. He doesn’t look happy at all, and honestly, Lando can’t blame him.

He goes straight to bed, face buried in the pillow. Limbs tossed dramatically like a Disney princess in despair.

“Lando?” Her small voice shreds every ounce of strength he has left. She sits on the bed beside him. He doesn’t look up and she sighs heavily. “Please talk to me.”

When he does finally look at her. Truly, for the first time in months, he sees just how broken she looks.

“What’s there to talk about?” He curses himself and his tone because she flinches away at it.

“Why are you avoiding me? I don’t understand what I did…”

He scoffs. “Don’t know what you did? Last month at your little get together? Calling me a clingy whiny bitch behind my back?” He chokes on the last part.

She looks at him, head tilted in confusion. The same look she gives when he’s trying to read directions. Confused, loving, patient. Why is she smiling?

“You didn’t hear the beginning of that did you?”

“No.” He pouts.

“Lando, love, light of my life - that was about Charles.”

His entire body freezes. It’s true that her friends like Charles and she hates when the fawn over him. Oh, he’s been an idiot. An Absolute asshole.

“I’m so sorry.” He throws himself at her and every ounce of anxiety over the past month is washed away as soon as her fingertips touch his skin.

“Charles is terribly clingy to everybody and he’s my brother. Of course he’s a whiny bitch in my eyes.” He would respond but his brain is mush at her hands in his hair.

“I just got so in my head. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you - George gave me the whole lecture about proper communication.”

“I Know. He said you were hopeless.”

“How encouraging of him.”

Lando pulls her on top of him. Her warmth, her skin, her full body weight is everything he ever needs to survive.

“I can’t believe you’re smiling at me.”

“I’m mad at you, but maybe we can make up.” She raises her eyes suggestively.

“I think I can make that happen.”

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dollarstoreartsupplies · 3 months

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OKAY here is the completely nonserious percy jackson npmd au thats been taking up space in my brain for weeks now because it simply needs somewhere to go:

New campers-

Stephanie Lauter:

I'm not overcomplicating this one: Steph is a daughter of Aphrodite

Solomon Lauter saw the hottest woman at some party where he was campaigning, and he’s is nothing if not ‘passionate’ and successful (by design) so it worked out

As far as Steph knows until her teens her mom ran off on her dad when she was a baby, and that’s fine, she doesn't give a shit, she’s never looked into it

Until, when she’s sixteen (because somehow she’s made it this long) Grace Chasity starts a rumor, her dad sends her to Abstinence Camp and the monster in the woods chases her right into camp halfblood

She gets claimed pretty promptly and Is Not A Fan

She’s thinks it’s pretty sexist and conceited and stupid and problematic for a whileeeee and refuses to look into it any more than ‘pink and pretty and misogynistic’ which like, doesn’t go well for her but she’s nothing if not stubborn

She’s fluent in French because of her mom but she doesn’t know that until she gets to camp and is genuinely so pissed off that the one school subject she thought she was good at isn’t even on her own merit

She’s got some vague appearance manipulation stuff, and once she realizes she does she exclusively uses it to change her hair color and make her eyeliner look good

She’s probably like camp way more if she knew about it earlier but the combo of her had having kept it from her and who her mom is and all the stupid games/worship expectations piss her off and she bails on most of the events/training/campfires out of spite

She definitely uses some close up weapon like a dagger or short sword

Grace Chastity:

Grace is a daughter of Ares

(Her finding this out goes very poorly)

Im ngl i feel like somehow Ares ended up with Mark Chastity, I refuse to examine this thought but i think Mark Chastity had his first gay experience and woke up the next morning with a baby there somehow because Ares thought it would be hilarious and wanted to see what would happen

She gets chased to camp with Steph from Abstinence Camp and is fucking livid, the whole thing is insanely scareligious and ridiculous and everyone there is going to hell and she is so heated that Ares, once again thinking it’s really funny and slightly proud, claims her on the spot

Grace Chastity is out here with her sacreligious two gay dads

She really resents specifically who her dad is because in her head she is made for peace and love and spreading the word of god, she hates the idea of war or violence on principal, so she spends a lot of time at the strawberry fields or Pegusus stables because she does really like the flying horses :)

She refuses to take place in any camp activities or training and all her siblings hate her

At a certain point she’s able to harness a level of odikinesis (enhancing feelings of hatred and war) and it doesn’t go well

Chiron honestly is forcing her to stick around because he’s REALLY so very nervous about how the fuck it would go to have Grace loose on the mortal world right after she finds everything else

Her weapon is an axe

Obviously

AND THEN we’ve got the established campers-

Peter Spankoffski:

Okay so forgive me for my special little blorbo-fication of my guy but:

Pete’s a son of Nyx

He super fucking shouldn’t be, there aren’t demi-god children of Nyx, just monsters and minor gods, but him and Ted were kind of just… thought experiments? Like she was bored and very curious so she took a really shitty human and had a child with him (Ted) and then, in what Nyx’s head was barely any time at all but in human years was straight up 18 years, has another one (Pete)

Ted raises Pete for a couple years, but children of Nyx in general are just bad omens, and human children of Nyx who probably shouldn’t exist are no exception, so they get hunted down by monsters hard

Ted dies or disappears by the time Pete’s ten or eleven and he ends up at a camp

He’s a year round camper and lives in the hermes cabin because obviously Nyx doesn’t have a cabin (look okay i know that percy fixed that, but that bit of lore where any unclaimed or minor god children live at the hermes cabin is so fucked up and rife with angst and hurt/comfort potential is too much for me to resist so this is a universe where percy jackson does not exist)

His luck is horrible, like it’s a magical demigod ability how horrible his luck is and he’s well on his way to systematically having broken every single one of his bones one by one, they know him so well in the apollo cabin

NO ONE (and I mean NO ONE) likes him and he’s considered a camp wide jinx so he takes one for the team and personally exempts himself from any team events like capture the flag because no one is willing to have him on their side

A lot of newer campers generally assume he’s an Athena kid because he really enjoys learning/strategy/by-the-book stuff because it’s a lot easier than trying to get involved with the more dangerous athletic shit

Because his mom is the goddess of night he’s very into outer space

His weapon is a bow and arrow, but he’s pretty good with most range weapons/anything that he can calculate aim for

Ruth Fleming:

Ruth is a daughter of Demeter and she’s pissed about it

Her dad told her about being a demigod a couple years before she went to camp but he didn’t know who her mom was so she got very very into greek mythos and shit and was convinced she was a daughter of Athena or Aphrodite or someone else nine-year-old-girl-cool and was fucking devestated when it was the goddess of farming

Like, she’ll do all the things she’s expected to (helping in the strawberry fields, weeding, etc..) but she’s going to complain about it

She doesn’t even have any cool powers to go with it!!! it’s so unfair >:(

She’s also involved with the camp’s theater department and is convinced it’s rigged against her because of who her mom is in favor of Apollo and Dionysus kids (in fairness…. it probably is) which is why she’s always stuck on tech

She’s definitely got a crush of Richie’s dad

She’s a summer only camper for sure, monsters don’t hunt her down for any reason in particular or en mass so she can get away with it and fight off the ones that do, but she does kind of take offense to the fact that even monsters don't want her (even if they’d just kill her)

Her childhood greek mythology obsession carries over so she knows every dumb little detail about every myth and will bring it up unprompted

Her main weapon is just a celestial bronze sword but i feel like when she first got to camp at 12 she bribed a child of Iris to change the color of it so it looks like… rose gold lmao

Richie Lipschitz:

Richie is a son of Dionysus

And sure, okay, I know what you're thinking: that doesn’t really fit…?

But to that I say oh boy it does, just not for Richie

For his twin brother Trevor however–

Richie is kind of like the black sheep of his cabin, not that there is many of them, because his brother is perfectly cookie cutter what a Dionysis kid should be (he’s a theater kid, he throws good parties, he’s generally popular) and Richie is not

They both started camp at probably 10-ish, a little earlier than traditional because there were two of them which drew more monsters

His eyes are violet though which he thinks is very cool so he dyes his hair purple to match them

He sorta-kinda has chlorokinesis, specifically for grape and strawberry vines, which a. he also thinks is very cool, and b. he uses as an excuse to get out of training so he can hang out with Ruth

He's also really good at swimming and trying to work up the courage to ask his dad if he'd possibly be able to grant him the ability to turn into a dolphin but just like... only when he wanted tot and he could turn back

He really wishes his was an Apollo kid (though, obviously he’d never say that out loud) because of the artistic stuff, so he sort of just tries to gaslight everyone that because his dad is the god of the Arts that includes physical art like drawing so obviously that’s why he’s good at it

He’s a summer-only camper too but for the dumbest reason; their parents gave the twins a choice, but Trevor wanted to be able to go back to school to do school plays and Richie can’t watch anime at camp so they chose summer only

His weapon is just a normal sword but he’s campaigning to get a child of Hephaestus to make him a Katana

(They’re all three kind of outcasts in terms of their own godly parents, because Ruth and Richie don’t really fit the mold of ‘normal child of [blank]’ and Pete’s kind of just generally disliked because of his parentage, so they all sort of came together as friends out of necessity but now they’re just actually buddies and they hang out)

anyway who knows if ill do anything with this but its FUN and id love to talk about it forever they're just little demigod losers I love them

#npmd #percy jackon and the olympians #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #im THINKIN ABOUT THEM #id love to write something with them but we'll see if I can think of a full plot #pjo #nerdy prudes must die #starkid

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gatheringbones · 2 years

Text

[“Why not identify as bi? That’s a complicated question. For a while, I thought I was simply being biphobic. There’s a lot of that going around in the gay community. Most of us had to struggle so hard to be exclusively homosexual that we resent people who don’t make a similar commitment. A self-identified bisexual is saying, ‘Men and women are of equal impor- tance to me.’ That’s simply not true of me. I’m a Kinsey Five, and when I turn on to a man it’s because he shares some aspect of my sexuality (like S/M or fisting) that turns me on despite his biological sex.

There’s yet another twist. I have eroticized queerness, gayness, homo- sexuality – in men and women. The leatherman and the drag queen are sexy to me, along with the diesel dyke with greased-back hair, and the femme stalking across the bar in her miniskirt and high-heeled shoes. I’m a fag hag.

The gay community’s attitude toward fag hags and dyke daddies has been pretty nasty and unkind. Fag hags are supposed to be frustrated, traditionally feminine, heterosexual women who never have sex with their handsome, slightly effeminate escorts – but desperately want to. Consequently, their nails tend to be long and sharp, and their lipstick runs to the bloodier shades of carmine. And They Drink. Dyke daddies are supposed to be beer-bellied rednecks who hang out at lesbian bars to sexually harass the female patrons. The nicer ones are suckers who get taken for drinks or loans that will never be repaid.

These stereotypes don’t do justice to the complete range of modern faghaggotry and dyke daddydom. Today fag hags and dyke daddies are as likely to be gay themselves as the objects of their admiration.

I call myself a fag hag because sex with men outside the context of the gay community doesn’t interest me at all. In a funny way, when two gay people of opposite sexes make it, it’s still gay sex. No heterosexual couple brings the same experiences and attitudes to bed that we do. These generalizations aren’t perfectly true, but more often than straight sex, gay sex assumes that the use of hands or the mouth is as important as genital-to-genital contact. Penetration is not assumed to be the only goal of a sexual encounter. When penetration does happen, dildos and fingers are as acceptable as (maybe even preferable to) cocks. During gay sex, more often than during straight sex, people think about things like lubrication and ‘fit’. There’s no such thing as ‘foreplay’. There’s good sex, which includes lots of touching, and there’s bad sex, which is nonsensual. Sex roles are more flexible, so nobody is automatically on the top or the bottom. There’s no stigma attached to masturbation, and gay people are much more accepting of porn, fantasies, and fetishes.

And, most importantly, there is no intention to ‘cure’ anybody. I know that a gay man who has sex with me is making an exception and that he’s still gay after we come and clean up. In return I can make an exception for him because I know he isn’t trying to convert me to heterosexuality.

I have no way of knowing how many lesbians and gay men are less than exclusively homosexual. But I do know I’m not the only one. Our actual behaviour (as opposed to the ideology that says homosexuality means being sexual only with members of the same sex) leads me to ask questions about the nature of sexual orientation, how people (especially gay people) define it, and how they choose to let those definitions control and limit their lives.

During one of our interminable discussions in Samois about whether or not to keep the group open to bi women, Gayle Rubin pointed out that a new, movement-oriented definition of lesbianism was in conflict with an older, bar-oriented definition. Membership in the old gay culture consisted of managing to locate a gay bar and making a place for yourself in bar society. Even today, nobody in a bar asks you how long you’ve been celibate with half the human race before they will check your coat and take your order for a drink. But in the movement, people insist on a kind of purity that has little to do with affection, lust, or even political commitment. Gayness becomes a state of sexual grace, like virginity. A fanatical insistence on one hundred percent exclusive, same-sex behaviour often sounds to me like superstitious fear of contamination or pollution. Gayness that has more to do with abhorrence for the other sex than with an appreciation of your own sex degenerates into a rabid and destructive separatism.”]

pat califa, public sex: the culture of radical sex, 1994, 2000

#pat califa #lesbian literature #history stuff #gender stuff #terra preta

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redpenship · 6 months

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an: a little fic i wrote in a couple of hours about sonic having terrible hedgehog eyesight <3 (1.6k words)

Sonic can’t see very well.

There’s a lot about the hedgehog that Tails doesn’t know. He doesn’t know Sonic’s birthday, where he comes from, why he doesn’t like to talk . . . his new friend is a big mystery to him, and one that would apparently prefer to remain unsolved, at that.

One thing he does know, however, is that Sonic has very poor eyesight.

Of course, Sonic has never directly revealed this to him. His weak vision has simply become increasingly obvious over the course of their short two months of friendship.

Tails curled up for a nap on their shared blanket around half an hour ago, but despite his growing body’s need for rest, he can’t fall asleep just yet. He’s too busy watching Sonic through the gaps in his tail fur, which he has placed over his snout to conceal his face while he ‘napped’. It’s probably wrong to look at people without them knowing, but he’s too intrigued by Sonic’s bizarre actions to look away.

A few minutes ago, Sonic had put down their pack of matches on a stump in front of him while he opened the canteen to take a sip of water. After putting down the water, he’d looked back up and apparently, in such a short span of time, lost the pack of matches needed to light the fire. He’s been searching since then, notably patting down his surroundings with his hands in lieu of conducting a visual sweep of the area. If anything, it almost seems like he doesn’t trust his vision at all.

It doesn’t take much longer for Sonic to find the matches. He turns the once-missing box over in front of his eyes, a hard expression on his face. Is he upset?

Suddenly, Sonic stiffens in place. His right ear swivels towards Tails, and the young fox knows he’s been found out even before Sonic’s head can follow through on the movement.

They meet eyes through Tails’ fur. Sonic frowns, blinks once, twice, and then turns back to the fire pit.

He avoids Tails for the rest of the night. Tails learns something important that day: Sonic knows he has bad eyesight, and he doesn’t like it when other people know about it too.

Quietly, to himself, Tails swears to pretend he never saw anything. If Sonic doesn't want him to know that he can't see very well, then he'll just act like he never figured it out in the first place.

Sonic's eyesight goes unacknowledged for a whole year, until there’s a storm bad enough to ground the Tornado on Angel Island during what was supposed to be a brief trip to visit Knuckles. The storm winds up passing not too long after sundown, and the clear skies reveal light years of stars and constellations above where they’re resting in the grass.

“The three dots are called Orion’s Belt,” Tails says, pointing to the sky in an effort to guide Knuckles’ gaze to said constellation. “Do you see it?”

Knuckles squints. After a moment, he nods. “Yes, I do.”

They take turns pointing out different stars to each other. Tails is having fun until he remembers the hedgehog sitting beside him.

He glances over. Sonic is staring at the night sky with that same hard expression from the time he lost the matches, lips turned down into a scowl. He isn’t happy at all.

It dawns on Tails for the first time that he might not be capable of seeing the stars. Thinking back, he can’t recall many times Sonic has actually looked up at the sky. His gaze is usually set straight ahead, focused only on what is right in front of him. It does not wander because there is not much else it can see.

“Hey, hedgehog,” Knuckles begins, pulling both Sonic and Tails’ attention towards him. “Are you going to help, or are you just going to sit there and do nothing?”

Sonic’s jaw tenses. He snaps his head away from Knuckles, staring straight ahead at nothing instead. “I’m going to sit here and do nothing, thanks.”

Knuckles smirks. “Why? Do you not know any?”

It’s the wrong thing to joke about. Sharply, Sonic says, “No, I don’t know any.”

In a flash, he’s on his feet at the other side of the meadow. Knuckles rolls his eyes and accuses him of melodrama, but Tails stops listening as he watches Sonic disappear into the woods at the edge of the grass. A rock as big as the Master Emerald has settled in his stomach. He wants to follow him and try to make things better, but knowing Sonic, that would only make things worse . . .

Tails sleeps in the meadow. He doesn’t see Sonic until the next morning, where he largely avoids talking to both Tails and Knuckles until it’s time to go.

Sonic’s eyesight does not impair his ability to forage. His nose twitches continuously while he looks through he forest for food, leading Tails to believe that his sense of smell and hearing carry the bulk of this spatial awareness.

They help him fight badniks, too. Eggman’s machines are loud and smell like metal and oil. During a raid on one of the doctor’s bases, Tails puts this theory to the test by closing his eyes and trying to detect the objects around him.

It works. Even without his sight, he’s able to keep track of nearby badniks pretty well. Sonic isn’t blind, per se, but it becomes evermore clear to Tails that Sonic’s resistance against Eggman would be much more challenging if he didn’t have his other senses to fall back on.

The issue, today, is that those senses have been taken out by an explosion.

It had started as a standard attack on an empire base. As they’d approached the last room in the base, neither of them had noticed the razor-thin tripwire stretched across entryway.

There had been no time to escape. Before Tails could blink, a fiery force knocked him off his feet and slammed him against a metal wall.

His head hurts. He moves to get up, but comes to a stop when he notices a shrill ringing noise overtaking his hearing. The rest of the world is muffled, as though his head were underwater.

If he can’t hear, then Sonic probably can’t, either . . .

That thought is enough motivation for him to slowly rise to his feet. He can’t see Sonic through all the smoke, so he tries to sniff him out to no avail. The excessive smoke is blocking his sense of smell, too.

His heart skips a beat. He needs to find Sonic and get him out of the base before Eggman’s badniks launch their counterattack—without his additional senses to guide him, Sonic has no chance of defending himself.

Tails stumbles around the room, calling out Sonic’s name as he climbs over rubble despite knowing the futility of communicating with sound right now. The chaos of the scene around him is making him desperate. He knows a single explosion isn’t enough to kill Sonic, but the pain in his skull is sharp enough to stunt his logical reasoning and he struggles to resist the anxiety trying to pull him towards his darkest thoughts. There’s always a chance, after all, that Eggman has already arrived with his badnik forces and Tails just can’t hear or smell where they’re fighting Sonic . . .

Eventually, he finds the hedgehog on the other side of the room. A small army of badniks have entered through a recently-blasted hole in the wall. Sonic has not taken notice of them, back to the horde as he digs through a pile of rubble nearby.

One of the buzz bombers is charging a shot. It makes the pain in his head spike almost unbearably, but Tails manages to spin his tails for a boost and tackle Sonic out of the way just before the beam could release from the bee’s stinger. The shot rang out beside them, making contact with the wall instead.

Tails fell on top of Sonic during the tackle, so he quickly scrambles off and turns to face the badniks. They’re charging more shots, and it looks like the Motobugs are going to start moving any second. Tails has to get them out of here now.

He looks back down, ready to pull Sonic to his feet, but stalls for a brief moment when he registers the look on Sonic’s face. There is no hard, bitter expression this time—he just looks terrified. His ears are pinned back against his head, and his eyes dart every which way in desperation to get a grasp on his surroundings. His quills are flared up in a way Tails has never seen before, sharp and poking in all directions to maximize their protective properties. In all their time together, he’s never once witnessed Sonic appear to openly vulnerable and helpless.

He has no desire to prolong Sonic’s suffering. Tails pulls him to his feet, keeping a paw in Sonic’s own so they won’t lose each other. Then, as fast he can without using his tails, he leads them out of the base through the hole the badniks made in the wall.

Tails refuses to stop until knows they aren’t being followed anymore. They stop next to a small stream, where they’re able to wash the soot out of their fur and rest until they’ve recovered enough to begin the trek back to the Tornado and head back to the workshop.

It doesn’t take too long. A couple hours later, Sonic breaks the silence. “Okay, the ringing is gone. I can hear again.”

Tails stares at him for a long time. Sonic squints a little while he looks back at him, and this action is enough to finally make Tails break his promise.

“Sonic, I think you need glasses.”

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #get this guy some fucking contacts please #redposts #my fics

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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

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CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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girlslovethinker · 6 months

Note

Hi, I just started watching GL, have only watched GAP. Can you recommend anything? I'd really appreciate it.

Hello! Although there are not that many right now, I will include a list of shows that have already aired that you can watch. Make sure you also see this list to keep updated on which GL will be coming out soon — because there will be a lot! 2024 is the year, trust me! The GL renaissance is upon us. But while we wait here’s some others:

Main characters/main couple:

- She Makes My Heart Flutter (2022)

I love this one. Basically all the characters are lesbians and in a friendship group. It’s so sweet and endearing and I really recommend it! Kinda short but so sweet. One of my favourites for sure <3

- She Loves To Cook and She Loves to Eat (2022)

The characters are a perfect match. This show will make your heart warm and you will say ‘Me and who’ every five seconds.

- Sleep with Me (2022)

The chemistry is so good. It feels so raw and real. Sexuality isn’t really an issue at all. I really enjoyed watching, my heart 🥹

- Out of Breath (2019)

Both painful and heartwarming, it can be relatable to viewers who have experienced break-ups and finding new love. This series is fun and I like it.

- Couple of Mirrors (2021)

Because of censorship, their relationship isn’t ~specifically stated but they are canonically together by the person who created them. I mean, they literally live together, sleep in the same bed, raise a child together etc. The vibes are gayyyy, it’s safe to say they have romantic feelings for each other. If you love action and badass women, this is for you!

- Legend of Yunze (2022)

Lovers reunite after centuries apart. It’s so beautiful and I rewatch this quite a lot.

- Girlfriend Project Day 1 (2022)

Super short, but still really cute. The characters are forced to work together and things ensue. I wish they’d make more episodes 🥹

- Show Me Love (2023)

It’s not made/edited the best but it’s still cute and easy to watch, nice elements of comedy :D

!!!!! Here is a link to other mini web dramas !!!!!

https://legendofyunze.carrd.co

Side characters/side couple:

- Bad Buddy (2021)

My sweetest Ink and Pa. I love them very much :) The actresses have their own GL together called ‘23.5’ which will air next year!

+ they also feature in Zero Photography

- Nevertheless (2021)

Watch this for Soljiwan, Nabi, and Han Sohee. The straight couples are questionable, but Sol & Jiwan, although a side couple, have the most beautiful story and amazing chemistry. 🥰

- Friend Zone S2 (2021)

Cris and Amm are a beautiful couple. They help each other with their situations, maybe they’re not perfect, but they are everything :D

Special mentions:

- Fragrance of the First Flower (2021)

- Love of Secret (2022)

- Wedding Plan (2023)

- Sweet Kaaram Coffee (2023)

I’ve definitely missed ones but these are just the ones I could think of off the top of my head. The only main GL airing right now is Lucky My Love & Love Senior!

#gl drama #gl series #thai gl #lgbt #lgbtq #lesbian #sapphic #lucky my love #legend of yunze #bad buddy #she makes my heart flutter #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #sleep with me #out of breath #couple of mirrors #girlfriend project day 1 #show me love #nevertheless #friend zone

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mage-propaganda · 1 year

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So many people miss the point of my original post and I’m tired of it so come clarification:

Yes, some guys suck. Some guys are really horrible people, who do horrible things. This isn’t news to anyone! Though it might be surprising for some to learn that there are women out there who suck, are terrible people, and do terrible things too. Neither of these things are the point!

If you’re dating a man, maybe don’t constantly shit on him for a funny little thing like ~gender~ which he can’t really control. A lot of people will make fun of and hate the old boomer mindset of “I hate my wife” jokes and then will turn around and do the exact same fucking thing to their boyfriends. It’s stupid! It’s annoying! And it’s extremely prevalent in the queer, more specifically bisexual, community (aimed at both bi men and women) to the point it can just be straight up Homophobic at times (why tf you shaming a bi man for having boyfriend instead of a wife??).

“Oh but Bees, I have trauma! I can’t help hating men and looking at the person I want as my boyfriend in utter disgust” then don’t date! Go to therapy, work on yourself! Don’t subject some poor dude to constant vitriol because you refuse to work yourself! I swear to everything good people on this app, and others, will shit on disabled people, and neurodivergent people, for being disabled and needing some extra assistance from their partners sometimes (something they often CANT help)… and then turn around and be like “but actually…my trauma means I can verbally abuse my boyfriend for being a man :/// thanks :///“.

There, now all the sorry-ass-joy-sucking motherfuckers can shut the fuck up!! Here’s clarification!! If you see happy gay couples, or a confident trans man in a healthy relationship, or something and feel the need to add a rant about your failed relationship with a dude (so they can’t be happy either) maybe pick up journaling or something! Get hobbies! Enjoy life! And maybe stop with all your bad takes!!

#I’ll fuck your dad!!#shut up!!#OP is a trans man #I am OP #OP uses He/They pronouns #OP is Bi #So y’all can shut the fuck up about that too #mlm #nblm #gay #bisexual #queer discourse #loving men is cool actually #men are amazing actually #men can be pretty actually #hey if you’ve read this far you’re stunning actually #if you are a man ily #also OP is disabled so shut up about that too #just preemptively

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gagmewitha-spork · 1 year

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English Lessons (Leila Ouahabi x reader)

Warnings: none.

Description: Reader trying to teach Leila English is not going as well as hoped, but why?

Notes: hey! remember me? probably not, but I started writing this in like December and only just got it finished, I’ve got a couple of other fics in the works but going on how long this took to write it’ll probably be a while before they’re out 😬 (also not my gif, can’t remember where I saved it from tho so sorry if it’s yours)

Word count: 2460

“Leila”, you pause, rubbing your eyes, “this clearly isn’t working”, you speak in Spanish. You had spent four years playing for Atletico Madrid and had picked up the language surprisingly easy, so as a result of your fluency in her native tongue, Leila had immediately used her charm to convince you to help teach her English. The thing is, it was not going well, it seemed that she had reached a point and stayed there. You hadn’t seen any improvement in her ability to speak your native language for weeks now and you were honestly loosing hope, “I think you should just speak to the club, they can get you a proper teacher, which, might I remind you, you should have had from the beginning”.

“I don’t want another teacher”, she replies, in perfect, though still heavily accented, English.

“Well something here clearly isn’t working because every time we come in here you just get worse if anything”, you throw your hands in the air, feeling exasperated at the situation.

“I’m not”, Leila insists, “I am better, I just”, she pauses deciding whether of not she wanted to tell you the real reason she wasn’t improving, “look y/n”, she starts, beginning to reach out and take one of your hands in hers, but is cut off as the door to the conference room you’re currently sat in swings open, revealing your other Spanish teammate.

“Steph sent me to come and get you both”, Laia starts, speaking Spanish, “trainings starting earlier than planned because of the rain forecast for later”, she explains, “they want to get on before the pitch gets too bad”, she finishes and quickly disappears back out the door, not leaving either of you any time to ask questions.

“We better go”, you tell Leila, picking up the English practice books the club had provided you.

“Y/n”, Leila said, grabbing onto your hand before you could disappear after Laia, “my English is good”, she insists, though saying it in Spanish left you unconvinced, “you’re a good teacher, I don’t want another one”.

“Maybe try saying that in English and I might believe you”, you reply, your tone dejected. You left the room, heading straight to the locker room, before she could hold you back any more.

Leila pauses for a minute before following after you, hitting her head gently against the wall after you’d left, “Idiota, idiota, idiota”, she repeats quietly to herself as she does so, “solo decirle”, (just tell her) she mumbles to herself, throwing her hands in the air as she follows after you towards to locker room to get ready for training.

——

Training went well, the rain held off until the last few minutes so while you were definitely all completely drenched, the mud wasn’t too bad.

“Ice baths?”, Laia suggested to you as you all made your way back inside. It had become a habit that you, her and Leila would all go to the ice baths together after training or a game. Your ability to speak Spanish, and previous friendship Laia, having played at Atleti together along with Deyna, had meant you had developed quite a close friendship with all your Spanish speaking teammates. You would often spend time hanging out with them instead of your fellow England players, which of course had led to a lot of teasing from the likes of Lauren and Chloe, with them suggesting that you might as well go and play for either Spain or Venezuela if you enjoyed hanging out with them so much.

You nodded at Laia and grabbed your phone and a towel from your locker before following behind the young centre back and making your way into the ice cold tub next to her.

The two of you stayed mostly silent, both individually scrolling through your phones as the 5 minute timer slowly ticked down.

“So what’s going on with you and Lei?”, she suddenly asks out if no where. Your head whipped up to look at her, before your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings to make sure no one else was around to hear. Luckily, she’d chosen to speak Spanish so there would only be a select number of your teammates who would understand, but one of those happened to be the exact person you definitely didn’t want to hear.

“What?”, you scoffed, trying (and failing) to act as casual as possible at her suggestion.

“She likes you”, she states like she knows it as fact, “and I’m pretty sure you like her back so…”, she trails off.

“So what?”, you asked, before quickly following up with, “and she doesn’t like me”, you paused, “and I don’t like her, not like that”, you insisted.

The truth was, you and the older Spaniard had been dancing around each other flirtatiously for weeks, if not months, at this point. Your problem was you could never tell if she was serious. Leila was naturally a very happy, flirty person, a fact you knew well having played against her for years in Spain, and you had always gone along with it thinking it would never go any further beyond a flirtatious rivalry. But now you played for the same team, and what had started out innocently had developed into something you were afraid was becoming a little too real.

“Right”, Laia didn’t seem at all convinced by your argument.

The conversation ended there though, as the woman herself entered the room and made her way into the ice bath with the two of you.

“Who died?”, she asked, sensing an air of awkwardness around, “did I just walk in on something”, she asked, her eyebrows wiggling in a jokingly suggestive way. Neither of you responded, Laia just watching you as you refused to look up from your phone, “did I walk in on something?”, Leila asked again, a more serious tone to her voice this time.

Laia shook her head, rolling her eyes, both at Leilas ridiculous suggestion, and at your denial to what she could clearly see blossoming between you and the left back.

The three of you stayed silent for a while before Laia conveniently got a phone call and left you and Leila there by yourselves. Judging by the intense eye contact she sent your way as she left the room, you’d guess it wasn’t so much ‘convenient’ as it was set up.

“You want to have Sushi?”, Leila asked, in English, almost like she was trying to prove a point.

“Now?”, you question, as hers had been rather open ended and it’d become a habit for you to make every conversation you had in English a lesson for her.

“No, later”, she confirmed, rolling hers eyes at you as she knew what you were doing.

“Ask me again”.

“You want sushi later?”, she asked again.

“I might get sushi later, yeah, why?”, you were being difficult. You knew exactly what she was trying to say and she knew it, you just wanted her to ask it properly.

“You want it with me?”, she pushed, getting closer to how you wanted her to say it.

“Want what with you?”, you feigned confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you want to got out for sushi with me later?”, she asked, in Spanish this time, as she’d given up trying to work out how to say it in English.

“No comprendo”, you shrugged you shoulders at her, acting like you didn’t understand what she was saying.

She slapped your shoulder, “You want to have sushi later, with me”, she finally says, though it sounds more like a statement than a question.

“I would love to”, you smiled cheekily at her. She shoved your shoulder lightly in response, “on one condition”.

“Ugh, what?”, she rolled her eyes.

“You have to speak English, all evening”, you state.

Your alarm sounded suddenly, signalling your 5 minutes in the ice cold water you hated so much was over and you immediately moved to leave the small pool.

A hand grabbed yours before you could make it all the way out however.

“This means we still have lessons for English tomorrow, yes?”, Leila asked you, the look in her eyes, combined with her thumb brushing over your knuckles almost making you melt.

You sighed, “Lei”, you paused, giving her a chance to pull you back into the pool, a little closer to her, “I really think you should get a teacher”.

“I have a teacher”, she insisted, grabbing your second hand, “she is the best”, the soft look in her eye was gradually changing into that look. You know the one, where her lips curve into that charming smirk, and for a second you think she might just lean in and kiss you.

She doesn’t, and you scold yourself for even allowing your mind to go there.

“We’ll see”, you state, removing yourself from her grip and exiting the pool.

Leila watches as you leave, and internally groans. She decides then and there that she needs to tell you how she feels.

——

It’s much later in the day when you find yourself taking a seat at a table opposite Leila. You’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had come here, it was definitely at least twice a week at this point, but you loved it.

“Let me guess”, Leila says as she picks up a menu, “onigiri?”, she asks, referring to the rice dish you got every time you came.

“You know me so well”, you smile back at her, before reading over some of the other options.

The evening goes the same as any other the two of your spent eating sushi together. Far too much food is consumed and you’ve talked about just about anything that had come up. Yet the conversation never got boring. It never did with her. And she had managed to speak English all evening, to a pretty good level too, only getting caught up on a few words.

You now found yourself walking down the pavement in the brisk Manchester evening air. The two of you had decided to walk home, your apartment buildings were right next to each other, as most of cities players were, and the walk was short enough for it not to be a trek, but long enough that it allowed your overfilled stomach to settle before going to bed.

There was a brief lull in conversation as you looked up at the sky, the night was clear, and even with all the light pollution from the city around you, you could make out some of the brightest stars.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel Leila’s hand intertwine with your own, causing your gaze to shift from the sky, to glance down at you now joined hands before coming to settle on her face. She was already looking at you, and unreadable expression on her face.

She was trying to read you, trying to see if what she was doing was okay.

“Lei, what are you doing?”, you asked quietly, but you didn’t let go of her hand.

“Holding your hand”, she explained simply.

You continue walking for a while. The silence between you comfortable, at least for you. For Leila, it gave her far too much time to think, and getting her thoughts together was becoming increasingly difficult.

She pulls you to a stop.

“Lei-“, you go to question her, but she cuts you off.

“You know I like you?”, she says, it’s phrased like a statement but the upwards inflection towards the end informs you it is actually a question. Knowing, however, does not help your brain fully compute exactly what it is she’s asking. Or is she telling you?

“What?”, is all you manage to get out.

“I’m not good in English”, she explains, you furrow your brow because the statement really doesn’t help clear any of this up, “in Spanish I’m good, I can flirt easy with you, but English is hard and I don’t sound good”.

“Wha-“, you go to say again, your brain short-circuiting at what she appears to be saying.

“I only want you to teach me English because I want to spend a lot of time with you”, she stumbles through the sentence in English and while your brain gradually catches up to what she seems to be implying, you struggle to fight off the smile that wants to form on your lips as you watch her, “I think you are amazing and beautiful and, and I don’t know any more English words that you are but I know there must be a lot”.

You’re just watching her at this point, as she adorably continues to mumble out words she thinks could potentially describe how she sees you, with the same smile plastered on your face from before, except now you’re not fighting it. Until eventually you can’t help yourself, the words aren’t coming to you anyway so instead of saying something you take her face in your hands and place your lips on hers, shutting her up immediately.

She doesn’t respond for a second, due to the shock, but as soon as she realises what’s happening, her hands are holding you against her instantly, and her lips move with yours in a synchronicity that honestly surprises you a little. In all your 27 years of living you can honestly say you’ve never experienced a kiss quite like this first one with Leila.

You pull away eventually, but your hands remain on either side of her face, your thumb running gently over her bottom lip, already wanting to kiss them again.

“So you-”, Leila starts but you cuts her off.

“You can speak Spanish now”.

She giggles lightly before speaking again, “if that terrible speech got you to kiss me like that I can’t wait to see what happens when I can use my charm properly”, she says in Spanish now, that signature smirk back on her face as her arms tighten themselves around you ever so slightly.

“Well it convinced me to help teach you English, so who knows what else you could convince me to do”, you teased back.

“Maybe we can find out back at my apartment?”, Leila suggests.

You agree and the two of you start heading in that direction.

“Just so you know, this definitely means you’re getting an actual English teacher now”, you tell her as you walk together, her arm draped over your shoulder and yours wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah I thought so”, she laughed, “I’m surprised you held out so long”.

“Well believe it or not, but I actually liked the excuse to spend time alone with you”.

“I knew it!”, she exclaims, kissing your cheek and guiding you into her apartment building.

#woso x reader #leila ouahabi x reader

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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 months

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heyy ok so I have this idea with maybe remus lupin or any smart character but your the writer whatever you think best is probably best, anyways so reader is failing a class and is assigned a tutor which would be the character. Anyways character is very in love with the reader and is nervous/flustered but the reader is more outgoing/flirtyafter a couple lessons at the end the character asked “anymore questions?” And the reader goes “yeah when are you going to ask me out? ”KINDA CRINGE LOOKING BACK BUT TYSM BYE 💜💜💜💜

- submitted by @they-only-want-you-when-your-17

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this is sooo cute! I loved it too much, love! I hope you like it too! 😊Warnings: none, this is pure fluffDisclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😊 gif isn’t mine 😊

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Ask Me Out?

You hated Potions. Not just because it was your earliest class and you weren’t a morning person. But because you were absolutely dreadful at it. You insisted it wasn’t your fault. It was your partner’s. When Professor Slughorn decided to make Remus Lupin your partner, you knew it would be useless.

You were never able to concentrate with him sitting next to you. Maybe it was because he started wearing his hair differently this year. Or because he smelled stupidly good. Or how shy he got whenever he was around you. Or because he had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. Or because his friends and your friends kept making stupid faces at you so you would make the first move.

Things got so bad, that Professor Slughorn suggested you got someone to tutor you for this class, and, much to your luck, Remus had volunteered himself to be said tutor. So, not only did you have to control yourself in his class, but now you were spending two afternoons a week with Remus at the Library or the Common Room, trying to listen to what he actually said, instead of getting lost in his beautiful smile.

“Are you listening to me?” Remus asked, suddenly snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I uh-” you said, sitting straight instead of resting your head on your hand. “Y-yes, of course, I was, Rem” you cleared your throat.

“Really?” Remus asked with a beautiful smirk. “Then what is the last ingredient you have to add to the Draught of Living Death before you stir it anti-clockwise?”

“Oh, uh- w-well, the um… the bean?” you tried with a small smile.

“Which bean?”

“I’m guessing not Bertie Bott’s beans?”

“No” he laughed adorably. “The Sopophorous Bean-”

“Sopophorous Bean” you quickly repeated. “See? That was my second guess!” you insisted and Remus glared at you a little. “I’m sorry, Remus” you sighed. “I know you probably have better things to do with your time than being stuck here trying to teach the unteachable” you laughed.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself” he said, his look softening. “You’re not unteachable. You’re doing a lot better now” he encouraged you.

“Well, to be fair, it’s way more pleasant to look at you and listen to you than to Professor Slughorn” you said, loving the way his cheeks blushed a little.

“I’ll take that as a compliment” he chuckled.

“It was” you said, resting your head on your hand again and smiling at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure” he said, looking through his book.

“Why did you volunteer to tutor me?” you asked, interested.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked, nervously. “I mean, you needed help-”

“Well, yes, but I think everyone else would have run for the hills if they had to spend some time with me with fire and so many things that explode around” you shrugged.

“You’re not that bad” he laughed a little.

“Remus, I’ve burned more cauldrons than James and Sirius together” you reminded him.

“W-well, that may be true, but you’re really trying” he reminded you. “So, I’m happy to help as much as I can” he said with a small smile.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Rem” you said, making him look away. “I’m sorry, does it bother you when I call you that? I heard you telling Sirius once you didn’t like it-”

“N-no!” he replied quickly. The only reason he didn’t like Sirius calling him that, was because he did it mocking you. “I don’t mind when uh- when you call me that” he muttered nervously. “Sirius is… just an idiot” he said.

“Oh” you smiled. “Well, okay” you told him, sitting a little closer to him.

“Okay, so I think that’s it for today” he said, closing his book before turning to you again. “Anymore questions?”

“Yeah, just one” you said and Remus nodded for you to go on. “When are you going to ask me out?”

“Uh- w-what-? Um- I’m sorry?”

“Well, I was just… wondering if you were planning on ever asking me out?” you told him.

“Y-you want me to ask you out?”

“If you’d like” you smirked.

“Well, I um- I would like that, very much” he smiled.

“Really?” you asked, excitedly.

“Y-yeah, the only reason why I haven’t asked you is because, I wasn’t sure if y-you’d want me to” he said. “So, um… would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? We can celebrate your ‘O’ on tomorrow’s exam” he said.

“I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Rem” you smiled. “But, I think you’re shooting for the stars, thinking I’ll get an ‘O’, I’ll be lucky if I get an ‘A’” you told him.

“We’ll see” he smiled.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“REMUS!”

Remus looked up from the book he was reading and he saw you run down the hallway at full speed, causing you to trip and fall but you quickly got back up, and composed yourself, ignoring the laughter and stares from everyone as you made your way to where he was standing with his friends.

“Are you okay, love?” Remus asked as soon as you reached them

“I’m fine- uh- d-did you just call me love?” you asked with a big smile on your face and feeling your heart flutter at the blush appearing on Remus’ cheeks.

“I uh- is that okay?”

“Yes, it is” you nodded happily.

“Uh, are you okay?” James asked.

“Yeah, that was a nasty fall” Sirius said, as he tried no to laugh.

“Oh, I’m fine” you assured them as you tried to compose yourself.

“You’re bleeding” Peter stated.

“I am?” you asked, looking at your knee. “Oh, well, whatever is not that bad! Guess what?” you asked excitedly turning back to Remus. “I GOT AN ‘E’!” you said, showing him the parchment in your hands.

“You got an ‘E’?” he asked, excitedly.

“In Potions?” Sirius asked, grabbing the exam from you and looking through it.

“I GOT AN ‘E’” you repeated wrapping your arms around his shoulders before you planted a big kiss on his lips. Remus was surprised for a second but he quickly wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’m really proud of you, love” Remus said, leaning in for another kiss.

“Ew, get a room!” you heard Sirius yell when you pulled away and you noticed the blush on Remus’ cheeks was back.

“Fuck off, Black!”

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves like it! :D

#submission #submitted by they-only-want-you-when-your-17 #marauders #marauders imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin drabble

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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wibta for telling a friend some things another friend of his said to me

🧠🐀 so i can find this later

i (17m) don’t have many irl friends (mainly bc. autism.) but there is one person, ‘alex’ (15m) i currently consider my best friend irl. he has another friend, ‘jay’ (16m) who i used to consider myself friends with. important context: we’re all trans.

jay has said a few things to me that made me end the friendship with him.

first, i’m gay. a while ago (before i realized i was a guy) i used to think i was lesbian. i mentioned this in passing to him once bc i thought it was kinda funny, and he made a weird comment about how ‘some people just don’t want to be straight’ that came off like he thought i was pretending to be gay? (tbc i very much Am gay, i literally have a boyfriend)

second, mcr is my and alex’s favorite band. every time i bring them up in conversation (which i do a Lot bc. again. autism) he makes ‘jokes’ about it being stereotypical trans music and me being a stereotype

third, i dye my hair bright colors fairly often. he’s made multiple jokes about me having ‘stereotypical trans hair’ and when i had a mullet a while back (which fucked severely btw like i looked Good with a mullet) he made a couple jokes about ‘ugly trans haircuts’

fourth, he has really bad dysphoria which isn’t an issue in and of itself, but if other trans people don’t have his level of dysphoria he often dismisses like. any dysphoria they have at all. he’s also said things about me ‘not trying to pass’ in the past as like. a way to imply my dysphoria doesn’t affect me? (i do genuinely try i’m just short and really feminine looking so i can’t pass even with a binder and masc clothes and shit)

all this made me uncomfortable and i distanced myself from him, which i don’t feel guilty about. but he’s closer to alex than he is to me, and i don’t know whether i would be justified in bringing these things up to alex. i don’t want to create drama or anything yk? so wibta?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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goldsainz · 2 years

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masterlist.

a/n: this was going to be longer, but i just couldn’t get myself to do such a long piece. honestly, there’s not a lot of harry mentioning, but it’s still a fun piece, i’m just giving you crumbs. this isn’t the peak of my writing, especially since this is my first time doing second person POV, tumblr is making me try things id never thought i’d do!!

word count: 3,4k

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Y/N Y/LN Keeps A Straight Face While Eating Spicy Wings | Hot Ones

The interview begins with you sat across Sean Evans, the line up of sauces making your heart beat a little faster, not sure how much spice you were actually able to bear.

“Hey everybody! Today we are joined by Y/N Y/L/N, who you may recognise from too many movies and shows to name! She is an Oscar nominated actress, Emmy Award Winner, and an overall talented person. Her most recent project, Don’t Worry Darling which comes out this September 23rd, is coming in no time, so don’t forget to buy your tickets.” Sean introduces you, a stifled laugh leaving your lips. “Y/N welcome to the show!”

“Thank you very much! I’m quite nervous right now, my manager said this could get spicy really quick, but I’m not sure what she meant by that.” You grinned, that signature, award winning smile plastered on your face.

“That depends on how good you are with spicy food, do you have a high tolerance?”

“I think so? It’s not something that scares me while ordering food, but I’m not actively seeking it. But seeing all of these hot sauces is making me sweat just a tad bit much right now.”

━━━━━━

“I’ve actually watched a couple of the Hot Ones interviews.” You confess, making Sean look impressed that you watched that sort of content.

“Now I have to know more, this is one of the best compliments I’ll get in a lifetime.” He then mutters something you didn’t quite get, but it seemed like a praise towards you.

“Well yeah, I sometimes scroll through Youtube, see it pop up, and someone I like is on the cover and I just click it. I used to go ‘Wow, thank god my manager would never make me go on that, don’t think my spice tolerance is that good’, but now I’m here so it seems like the tables have turned for me!”

“I guess I don’t have to tell you how this works, or which sauces go first then.”

“I’ve taken some work off your hands!” You say with a laugh.

“Let’s take a bite then, shall we?” Sean asks, while you nod your head and grab the first wing.

You take a bite, realising it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all, there was a hint of spice but nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Okay so how are we feeling with wing number one?”

“Pretty good, my confidence level is on a solid 8 for now.” You just knew you would take your words back a couple of wings later, but maybe if you lied to yourself a little it wouldn’t be that hard.

“You said in an interview a while back that you enjoyed cooking, especially spicy food because it was funny seeing how some people crumbled when eating certain dishes. Who would you say had the funniest reaction?”

“I once cooked for Taylor Swift, she’s a good friend of mine who I’ve learnt doesn’t take spice as well as she says she does.” You admit, and if anyone wasn’t watching the interview and just hearing it, they’d almost be able to hear your smile. “I made a dish, I might’ve messed up the amount of chillies I put on it, and I didn’t realise it was that bad until she had tears in her eyes, I felt horrible about it!”

“Did she tell you it was too spicy?”

“She was trying to be nice about it, she was full on coughing, and her words were of comfort because she didn’t want me to feel bad!” Everyone in the room lets out a laugh at your words, nobody was really surprised to know that Taylor was just that sweet.

“Would you say Taylor is one of your closest friends in the industry?” It was a tough question, because being a close friend was such a different question for someone like you, someone who did what you did.

“She’s been through a lot with me, I’ve been through a lot with her. Sometimes we don’t talk as often as we would like, but when we do it’s like we had talked everyday.”

“You met all the way back in 2014, right?”

“At the Met Gala, it was my first one, it wasn’t hers though. We sat at the same table, we talked all throughout it, and the rest is history.”

━━━━━━

The second wing had proven to still be bearable. You weren’t quite sure when you would get hit with all the heat, but you were enjoying your time so far.

“Don’t Worry Darling was a process that took a while to make because of Covid. In fact, filming had to stop because a crew member tested positive, making you have to go through a quarantining process. What was it like filming with such heavy health regulations?”

“It was hard, nothing was really like it used to be. Filming was still fun, but there were many things I hadn’t actually taken notice of until Covid started.” Your brows furrowed, a crease on your forehead present. “Kissing scenes were different, probably the ones we had to be the most precise while filming. They had us take a disinfectant mouthwash, which was very minty, at least it ensured your partner wouldn’t have bad breath!” You joked, lightening the mood of a heavy question.

“Was there a limit for the amount of times you could film such scenes?”

“For sure, we tried to make them work each time, there really wasn’t a lot of goofing around because it was a health risk just to film them. You couldn’t just improvise a kiss, you would have to consult with your partner if they were comfortable with the possibility of you doing that. Harry was always very respectful of boundaries, he never tried to do anything that crossed a line or could just be awkward in general.”

“Would you say that there had to be a lot of trust involved, more than the usual amount?”

“Of course! Before Covid if you didn’t really like your partner you’d just film the scenes, talk with your intimacy coordinator about what crossed a boundary, what didn’t, and then you would just go on with your day. Now, you need to build a certain trust, like the one you’d have with a friend just to make the experience of filming a good one, and not have to shoot a million times because you can’t get the right look of love, or whatever you’re supposed to convey.”

“That seems like a very exhausting process.” Sean says, and you just nod at his words, knowing that it was exhausting but also made you get to know the love of your life a lot sooner in the process.

“I’m eyeing the third wing very hard right now, I didn’t eat a lot today so this is kind of my lunch.”

“Let’s dig in then!” And that you do.

“Oh! This one hits you instantly, I wasn't really expecting it.” He laughs at your comment, but mostly at the straight face you had while eating your wing.

“It just keeps on hitting from now on!” You just throw your head back with a laugh, a groan slipping from your lips.

━━━━━━

“I’m gonna ask you a question, is that okay?” Many interviewers didn’t take it very well when you asked them questions, they felt as though you were taking up their job. So you had learnt it was better to ask and be turned down, than asking right away and having someone be mad backstage.

“Go for it!”

“If at some point I drink some milk, is that a sign of me starting to give up?”

“No, definitely not. Most people drink milk to cleanse their palate, we are not gonna shame you on how well you are doing based on if you drink something or not.”

“Alright, I’m not gonna drink anything yet, but good to know.”

“If you don’t drink anything, then I won’t either.” He decided, making you laugh in response, you probably hadn’t laughed so much in an interview in a very long time.

“You are a very private person, do you find it difficult to manage your public life, your work life, from the private one?”

“I’ve gotten better over the years, when I didn’t have the exposure I had now, I didn’t worry about paparazzi catching moments I wanted to keep for myself.”

“Are relationships the hardest part?” There it was, the relationship question, at least it wasn’t a speculation over who it was. That much was appreciated.

“Maybe? If your partner is famous then it probably is, you don’t only have to balance the image you give for yourself but theirs too. If they’re not famous, then people will start spreading rumours over who they are, what they are doing with someone famous, it can become overwhelming very quickly.”

“But you don’t hide your relationships like some do, you just keep them private, is that correct?”

“Yeah, being someone’s secret isn’t nice. I keep the first months private just because you’re still getting to know each other, and having those moments ruined by the public is not what I want.”

“I’m sure that what you do want is this fourth wing!” You were grateful for Sean’s ability to make his guests comfortable, to make the awkwardness not so overbearing.

“I sure do, Sean!”

You both take a bite, the flavours are good and you remain with a straight face, even when the heat does creep up.

“I’m loving the composure you’re maintaining.” You giggle at his words, making him laugh along with you.

“I’ve done years of acting, some things I’ve taken with me.”

━━━━━━

“Are your eyes glossy?” Sean asks, his voice holding a shocked tone.

“What? No!” You respond, your hand over your mouth as you still had food in it.

“Just wondering if the heat is catching up to you, that’s all.”

“I promise, the fifth wing has not gotten to me.”

“You are known to never take things personally, even when asked rude questions you are never rude in return. Does it get tiring to maintain your composure at times?”

“There definitely have been times in which I want to snap at someone, mainly because they’re being rude, but I feel that if you don’t give them the attention they seek they won’t continue their behavior. I mean, most of them catch the hint, some of them are persistent though.”

“That’s a very interesting thought process, is there someone who taught you to do that?”

“Nope! That’s just been me learning over the years, the industry will make you learn things you never thought you’d need to know.” You say with a sigh, looking at the backstage of the set, not at anyone in particular.

“Talking of the industry, what has been the best piece of advice a celebrity has given you?”

“Do not search your name on social media unless your manager says so.” You confess, the tightness in your voice evident.

“Wow, that’s powerful, can you tell us why?”

“Because people are mean, and I know that they say with fame comes hate, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I sometimes have the urge to go on twitter, see what people are saying about me at the moment, yet you never know what you might see.”

“I can understand that. I can definitely say I’ve looked up my own name, not much has come up as I’d imagine it would for someone with your influence.” Sean praises, your cheeks heating up at the compliment.

“You never know what to expect from the internet. After I did the reading thirst tweets interview, I for sure won’t look up my name.” An uncomfortable laugh is let out, and he just joins in.

━━━━━━

You were just two wings away from finishing the interview. Your cheeks were definitely a redder than they were at the start, sweat was evident on the top of your brows, but you were still taking the challenge like a champ. Or as best as you could, the heat definitely wasn’t really helping with your perception of things.

“You said your confidence level was 8 at the start, what are you at now?”

“Maybe five, five’s good, I feel like sipping some milk but I can still do this.” You say with slight raspiness to your voice.

“You always say fashion is your passion, and with your collaborations over the years with different brands, what was your overall favourite outfit in ‘Don’t Worry Darling’?”

“Tough question, there are many answers, but I’d have to say the fuchsia dress was one of my favourites. It was so beautiful I wanted to take it home with me, but I couldn’t!”

“They wouldn’t let Y/N Y/L/N take a dress?”

“No, they didn’t! Genuinely can’t be mad though, they take time to make, so I completely understand not wanting to ruin a piece someone could’ve spent weeks working on.”

“Did you ever take anything from the set at any point?”

“You’re trying to get me in trouble, aren’t you?” You tease him, which just makes him laugh while shaking his head, “I did take something, yes. Can’t really confess what, but there is one person who knows what it was, and it’s just because they were my partner in crime.”

“So that secret is going right to the grave of two people?”

“That it will!”

“You only have two wings left, so let’s make it one!”

“This sounds so rude, but I cannot wait for this to be over. I’m loving everything about this, but the spice? Fuck no.”

You grab your wing and make a cheering motion, and just take a bite out of it. Maybe you should’ve gone a bit softer on the bite, because the heat kicks you instantly. It feels like a volcano eruption, which makes you feel uneasy about how the last wing will truly be.

“It’s kicking in, isn’t it?” Sean asks

“It is! I don’t know why you’re eating this so willingly, you do this every other day, mate! You don’t have to prove anything to me, I promise.”

“I know I don’t, this is just my job at this point, eating hot wings for a living!”

“You could not pay me enough to do that. Mad respect, truly, if anyone needs a pat in the back, it’s you!” Your voice is nasally, and you’re sure you have a somewhat runny nose by now.

“You seem like a very sweet person, being respectful to those around you is something not all celebrities engage in. Is that something that can become hard to leave behind when filming scenes for characters which aren’t nice at all?”

“It can get hard sometimes. I don’t particularly engage with the whole ‘Method Acting’ thing many people seem to do, I find it to be unnecessary, and it doesn’t look like a fun experience.” You were trying your hardest to not start any drama with your words, but you could just see the headlines twisting your words.

“So you’d say that filming should be fun?”

“Maybe not so much the filming, but the portraying a character. I’ve seen it firsthand when an actor loses who they are because they went too far with the creative process of being a character. We’re all free to do what we please, but if it harms you or others? I draw the line there.”

“Has there ever been a moment where being a character took a toll on you?”

“There have been quite a few, it’s not the nicest experience to be honest. I couldn’t go to work because I just couldn’t bear being called my character’s name. I obviously got over it fairly quickly because there’s not much time for tears when you’re more than halfway into a project.” You gulp, your eyes become glossy all of a sudden, evidently not because of any wing. “This got very emotional quickly, don’t know how that happened.”

This time when you looked backstage, there was a certain someone with his thumbs up looking right at you. A small smile, a fond one, formed right on your lips.

“It’s okay, heavy questions have heavy answers.”

“Something that’s looking quite heavy is this last wing.” Sean laughs at your comment, making the small smile overtake your face in a split second.

“Now you don’t have to do this, but I sometimes add more sauce on the last wing to end it with a bang. Are you willing to join in?”

“I’m gonna regret saying yes, but why not, can’t let you do it alone now.”

The moment you say that he opens the bottle in front of him, and pours some sauce on it. You eye your bottle skeptically, the overwhelming smell of it hitting your nostrils in a split second. You don’t drench your wing like he does, just place a drop of it.

“Cheers!”

You are more cautious with your bite this time, you don't jump in for such a big bite. You're sure it looks like a bird is biting the wing, but you're not about to risk your tongue being burnt off.

Your face is still stoic, and honestly, youre just doing it so your pride is not as hurt when your friends and family watch the interview. You’re sure Harry will be the first one to tease you about something, yet you can’t wait to hear everything he says, especially since he’s getting every single bit of it.

“Your face is not saying much, so how are you?” You can only respond with a cough, which makes Sean laugh.

“Not good over here! I think I’m gonna have to cave in, and drink some milk.” You’re not quite sure why your voice is so hoarse, but it’s a little funny to hear.

“Go for it!”

You gulp the glass of coconut milk, grateful that it’s not cow milk. You never liked the taste of cow milk by itself.

“Fuck’s sake, that’s lovely, best feeling ever!” You breathe out through a quiet laugh, the slightest drops of milk dripping down your face. Someone off-camera gives you a couple of tissues, and you thank them.

“Everything better now?”

“I’m not sure!”

“The good thing is this is over!”

“No more wings?”

“No more wings.”

“I genuinely can’t believe I made it through this, especially after the 8th wing.” You say with a shudder, remembering how it burnt

━━━━━━

“We are finally done!” Sean says, making you know that there’s practically only the credits left.

“Woo!” You cheer, pumping your fists in their air.

“Y/N Y/L/N you’ve conquered this challenge! Anything left you have to say?”

“But your tickets for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ because it’s a great movie, and I’m so excited for all of you to see it!”

“That’s it for today, thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for having me.” You say, blowing some kisses to the cameras around you.

The interview ends with a couple of claps, and one of the biggest smiles on your face as you try to hide your face to dissolve the attention from you.

━━━━━━

Comments 31K

username1: she’s my fave celebrity, if anyone asks why, i’m sending them this video

👍 76K

username2: she kept looking at someone behind the scenes, i have the biggest feeling it’s harry

👍 24K

82 REPLIES

username3: SAME

username2: especially since they’ve both been spotted a lot together recently…

username4: props to her for being able to conceal her emotions so well, i could never tbh

👍 19K

username5: the way sean didn’t even have to introduce her as much because she’s such a big household name

👍 59K

username6: Her outfit looks so good, Rebecca is definitely one of the best stylist’s she’s ever had

👍 16K

37 REPLIES

username7: literally so true

username8: top 3 hot ones interviews for sure

👍 9K

username9: whoever she was looking at, is lucky fr, she looked at them like they were holding the entire world in their hands

👍 12K

username10: her and taylor’s friendship is everything to me rn

👍 5K

2K notes · View notes

bronx-bomber87 · 3 months

Text

Happy Saturday all :) We only have 5 eps left in this season. I can’t believe it. 17 days to the premiere. Well 18 for me since I don't have cable just Hulu but still. Ahhh the Dim and Juicy Ep. I remember the 3 week hiatus to get to it was the worst. Felt like we had a lot of extended breaks in S5. Drove me insane. But anything is better than the one we’re coming out of now ha I’ll take 3 weeks over 9 months any day heh.

I liked the parallel in this how unhealthy Jake/Sava were. And how solid Tim and Lucy are. I mean Dim And Juicy were a mess. My god the man cheated on her more than once. They are not relationship goals lol I enjoyed them nonetheless though. I know Eric and Melissa had a blast filming this. Did my best to get everything in. Content heavy one. Let us get started.

5x18 Double Trouble

We hit the ground running in this one. Sava is waiting for Jake outside of prison. He’s getting released due to overcrowding. Not because he was good LOL Even Sava makes a crack it wasn't that. Been serving about 6 months for the drug charge got in 4x22. It’s a trip to watch them. We get all the benefits of Melissa and Eric’s chemistry inside another couple. It's wild. Sava all but squee's when she see's Jake which is pretty cute.

They launch themselves at each other once he’s free. All kisses and hands. Saying how much they missed each other. All the chemistry and swaying cuteness that comes with them. This scene is pretty cute to watch. They do look like they are so in love which makes what Jake does later so confusing and awful tbh. He greets her friend Lisa with a hug and you can see Sava breaks it up pretty quickly.

Sava brings Jake back to her side. Asking what he wants to do first? Being the classy gentlemen he is saying she knows what. Ha Horny horn dogs. I do love it though. it’s like getting the most reckless AU version of Tim and Lucy. Although they wouldn’t cheat so it’s not entirely accurate lol Sava asking him if he wants to go straight? Jake replying 'Nah, screw that. Let's be bad.'

This leads us into the documentary. Shots of Jake and Sava during it. My god they are sex crazed af. I think that’s why everyone loved watching them though. heh They legit were gonna make a sex tape and got caught LOL I remember being so excited and confused as to what this episode was going to be ha. All I knew was going to be a documentary one and I always have a soft spot for these ones.

We start off with Lucy getting mic’d up. She looks way more nervous this time around. Why you ask? Her person isn’t with her. Her safe space and grounding force is missing. She even asks why she can’t be interviewed with him? They want their POV's to be separate this time. It’s so sweet she misses him and needs his presence to calm her nerves. This makes me so happy I cannot.

We watch her take a deep breathe knowing they have to be apart. They ask how Lucy knew of Jake Butler in the first place? Lucy goes on to explain about Tamara’s car and drugs they found in it. Which led them to Jake. They bring up the fact he and Tim look alike. Tim is already grumpy and hates these damn things. What happens when you remove him away from his sunshine human.

He’s extra grumpy. It shows in his very first shot. His body language screaming how much he doesn’t want to be here. The crossed arms (mmm hello biceps.) Tim defiantly saying how they don’t look the same at all. Refusing to believe they are anything alike. Other than looks Jake is the complete opposite of everything Tim is for sure. He’s so sassy and salty when the director says they’re identical. ‘Says you.’ Oh my love. I adore you.

They come at Lucy with both barrels about being Dim and Juicy for their OP in 'Double Down.' Knowing their ‘pretend’ intimacy was so much more than that. Lucy looks like she’s getting overwhelmed poor thing. She tries to divert it back to what they accomplished with their OP. Not the fact that they were UC together as a couple. The director presses more asking if that’s when her and Tim became intimate?

There’s a reason they pulled Tim from her for these questions. He would’ve knocked this guy out for them being so personal. Also for making her feel uncomfortable asking them. She can’t even look the man in the face when she says this BS line about pretending. Cause it’s utter crap and she knows it. Yeah they were in other relationships at the time. To quote Angela from 5x01 ‘All true. Not what I asked.’

Lucy defending them both. Saying they didn’t get together until they were both single. Which is true and I am eternally grateful for. Do love her making sure everyone knows this. That they didn’t do anything untoward during their OP. Cause they wouldn’t while in relationships. Not who they are. They were damn close but didn't. Why they are the opposite of Jake/Sava. The director says he wants to dial in on that. Lucy becoming agitated asking do we really have to?

These questions clearly getting under her skin. The director noting it’s astronomical they would even meet the both of them. Let alone have both Jake/Sava together and her and Tim as well in a relationship. Before she can answer Tim interrupts says interview is over. She asks what's wrong? He tells her not here.. Lucy thinking it’s linked to questions she’s being asked. I love him holding the door for her as they leave. Ever the gentlemen.

The closeness and height difference is glorious in this shot. You can tell when they’re alone by her body language Lucy goes into calm down Tim mode. Her hand reaching out for his and subtly touching it. Thinking she has to get him to settle down for hearing those questions. Before Lucy can talk Tim explains why he removed her. Has nothing to do with that. He pulled her over because Jake has gone missing. Doesn’t want to do police work in front of the cameras. Saying Nolan and Celia got missing persons call and it’s about Jake. Lucy is shocked saying 'What?'

Nolan and Celina show up and Sava is freaking out cause Jake is missing. The director asks why Jake and Sava are at a mansion in Beverley Hills? We find out they’ve been casing rich families. Taking over jobs like handy man, nanny etc so they can live in these fancy houses and steal their stuff. It’s pretty smart despite being awful LOL This last family needed a handy man. Jake beats the crap out of the current one. Strong arms his way into taking his job.

I do love seeing how tall he is in that camera shot. mmm. Tall drink of water that man. Jeans and a leather jacket? Yum. Gimme. Luckily this family needed a nanny as well. So they both fit right into this scenario. Angela saying Sava slid right in LMAO I’m dying at Wes’s reaction. They’re so cute I can’t stand it. I do love me some Wopez. He tells her that's a really descriptive way to say it HA These documentaries always produce the funniest little moments like this. Why I love these and have a soft spot for them.

We return to Nolan’s and Celina questioning Sava. She is still panicking. Saying this is why she didn't want to call the cops. Nolan noting because they're doing something illegal? She tries to defend their jobs there. That they're "straight" now. John gets her back on track by saying Jake disappeared? We cut to another video slash moment. Sava and her videos ha it is super cute how he looks at the camera. That smile we all love. Jake saying she needs to remind him to erase security footage. My god they’re sex bunnies LMFAO. He gets up to grab another beer and asks if she wants anything? She said lobster salad.

The ass tap he gives her on his way to get another beer. my goodness. I love it. Reeling over here. Don't worry about me. They must’ve had so much fun filming this. I mean Eric mentioned it was one of fav eps of the season. The BTS they did leading up to his showed how much they enjoyed it. Her little dance after he says he’ll get her lobster salad. Haha Sava just living her best life in this moment and it’s showing. Sadly this is the last time Jake is seen alive on camera.

We find out Jake took off and never told Sava where he was going. Which is heartbreaking. Because she clearly loved this man very much. Moral compass or not she loved Jake. That gets them on the topic of lying and secrets in a relationship. They ask her if Tim and her keep secrets? Lucy says nothing big.

That honesty is the most important thing in a relationship. Cutting to Tim and his reply I’m rolling. Eric killing it in this episode with his sarcasm. The king delivers once again. I mean he’s not wrong he is sitting there because of her secret. Well intentioned secret though LOL One born out of love. This one was funnier than the other two I thought. Just lots of funny/punchy bits like this one. I enjoyed it so much.

We return to station. Aaron’s calling in he found a body. That it’s Tim. The expressions in this scene are primo. First off Lucy and Celina's confusion is hysterical. Standing next to him and hearing this when he's very much not. Tim looks so annoyed Aaron couldn’t tell it wasn’t him LOL Also irritated at the thought of being dead. Like he's insulted he would ever be dead in a dumpster haha Oh Tim I love you so much.Like Aaron you’re all looking for Jake and your mind goes to Tim LMAO Never gonna live this down my dude....

Tim grabbing Lucy’s radio off her hip is doing things to me. I also adore the looks when he does. She just allows it only looking down. Such a deep level of comfortability in this action too. Lucy doesn’t react at all. Just used to Tim and his antics. It’s the little glances through out this portion love too. Tim's look into the camera cracking up as well. Like this friggin dope thinking i'm dead... His face the literal version of SMH ha I loved this mini moment so much.

They ask Tim if it was disconcerting he saw a version of himself dead in the dumpster? Being Tim he’s not going to show a documentary crew of all people his vulnerability. That’s reserved for one person and one person only. We shoot back to Lucy who says she has nightmares. God I can only imagine the nightmares seeing that produced for her though. Even though it wasn’t him you know she carried that with her when they left.

I bet you she had nightmares that night and Tim had to soothe her. Damn that would be good fic... LOL Anyways they ask Lucy if she thinks Tim has nightmares? Lucy tells them no but he’s been doing the job longer. I love her defending his high walls though. Saying why they’re in place. Not wanting them to judge him for it. Refusing to let anyone cast a negative light on him.

The director asks if she’s jealous he can turn it off like that? Lucy’s answer is great because it’s very her. Telling them No. Personally she needs to feel for people it’s who she is. I totally get that I am a massive empath. It’s how I connect with people as well. It has it's downsides it’s true but worth it in the end. When they ask her bout his walls being an issue? I LOVE her smile. Because those walls have never really been an issue. A challenge for Lucy yes in slowly breaking his down over the years. But never an obstacle for them.

We all know she saw behind his walls very early on in their relationship. Saw the man hiding behind that wall. Tim has been a soft marshmallow for her for YEARS. Legit years. Why she has zero hesitation in her reply. He was soft for her long before they got together. It’s just now he allows himself to fully be this way openly and he’s ok with it. Well when they’re alone he is. Of course he’s going to be rough and grumpy with the crew. They’re not his person. Nor would he ever tell them he was soft for her.

That's not Tim Bradford at all. But his actions speak louder than his words ever could. You have to earn that out of him though. Lucy earned it million times over. Why she is the only one who gets to see it. Does crack me up the way the director says. ‘No sir....’ After Tim asks him if he looks like a big softy? You know Tim loved instilling that fear in him. He may be super gone for his wife. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t command fear and respect around everyone else. These two the epitome of Grumpy x Sunshine per usual. Tim is hard ass unless you’ve made past his wall. He loves Lucy most so she gets all the soft goodies haha

Sava shows the director a video she’s scared to share with the team after being questioned. Thinking they’re gonna use it against her. It’s a video of them driving around being all cute. Saying I love you to the camera and such. But then get run off the road in an attempt to kill them. Their car gets totaled and Jake has them bail completely. Car and everything they leave behind. They were able to locate the car for evidence after they see this.

They couldn’t get anything from the car scrapings unfortunately. Had the most common paint out there. So another layer was added to this mystery. Who was the driver? Sava then gets a text threatening her about an item she had no idea about. One that needed to be delivered. It was sent to her and Jake. The texts went on to be violent in nature toward Sava. So it was time for Lucy to go UC to figure this out. Meet up with this person threatening her.

Thanks to Lucy’s UC Op the SL finally has some answers. The guy contacting them was related to Jake they were cousins. He was into some shady stuff and was an international arms dealer. This where I really feel bad for Sava. She had no idea about these back ally dealings he was doing. Not only that but he was cutting her out of the deal on top of it. That Jake targeted this family for a specific reason and she had no idea. Makes me sad when she says she thought he loved her oof.

That she knew him. Pretty sad. We find out later through Sava. That Jake always had a burner phone. They were able to get that number through this whole thing with the shady cousin. It’s where we find out Jake was cheating on Sava. Again….Lucy calling him the Shakespeare of sexting LOL They ask her if she’ll read some of them? It’s adorable how flustered she gets. Saying she can’t her Nana would be watching this. HA

The director does the dumbest thing he could do. Asking Tim if he would read some? Like did you really think that was gonna happen bud? Like really? His reply of if Lucy wasn’t gonna he sure as hell wasn’t going to. Telling him to take that away from him. Have you not paid attention at all in these documentaries? Why would they think asking was a good idea? LMFAO Mess with the bull gonna get the horns people.

We find out the person Jake was cheating on Sava with was Lisa. Her best friend…Like damn it’s bad enough to cheat but with her best friend? God…As douchey as it gets on his part. Jake breaks up with her via text but Lisa can’t handle the fact he was choosing Sava. It’s when everything comes together. We find out she tried to run them off the road and kill them. When that failed she asks for Jake’s forgiveness. Wanting to meet up. When he showed up she killed him immediately and dumped his body. Shit….That's a seriously scorned women right there.

This next portion is the definition Grumpy x Sunshine. They ultimately decide not to charge Sava with anything. The director asking what Lucy thinks of this? She of course gives the softest, most empathetic, and hopeful answer. Because it’s Lucy Chen. She exudes all that in her decision making. It is her super power after all. Naturally her answer was geared towards a second chance. Thinking maybe this will put Sava on the right path.

We cut to Tim saying ‘Of course she said that.’ He knows his girl so well. What’s so great here is his expression as he says it. That smile of his when he says that line. We all know one of the reasons he fell for her is that sunshine. That empathy and her seeing the best in people. She charmed her way into his heart with it. He truly does admire her for it. You can see the fond affection his face and tone when he says this.

He may not agree with her but he loves that about her. The man loves her so much even when he’s being sassy it comes off as affectionate. It's the first time we see him smile this episode. Why? He’s talking about Lucy. She brings it out in him. She melts him even without even being present. Just the thought of her and he lights up. Her compassion is one of his fav things about her. Gah they cute.

They finally get to to be interviewed together. It’s the best part of the episode. Director not wasting any time with his first question. Asking them if they’re worried cause their doppelgänger relationship was so dysfunctional? Lucy once again seeing the best in them. Telling him it was an unfair characterization of them. That Jake cheated not only that but cut her out of a gun deal after that. Not healthy in the least but to her not dysfunctional.

I adore how riled up Tim is with his questions. Protective Tim has entered this conversation. Getting very agitated with what he’s implying. Look at how Lucy looks at Tim as he goes off on his rant. She loves this man sitting next to her. Grumpy rants and all. The amount of affection on her face as he continues his tangent. She could watch him go off all day. My heart. The director saying he thinks it's reasonable question. Tim doesn't agree and tells him off. Saying they’re working too hard. Ha I love him.

Tim continues on (very passionately might I add) about separating their relationship from Jake/Sava’s. Want's to make it VERY clear they are nothing like those two. That the only thing they share is looks. He is so offended he would even compare the two. I mean it’s true. They’re not on the same planet as Tim and Lucy. Lucy continues to look at her man with serious heart eyes. Her smile giving me all the feels.

She is loving his fierce defense of them as a couple. Saying Jake/Sava based their lives on deceit. Of course it infected their relationship. He’s not wrong…This next bit gets me all in my feels. The way he looks over at Lucy. A real genuine smile just for her. Look at his smile. I'm a puddle. He is the absolute softest for her. *heart clutch*

Saying they’re in a very different place. His passionate defense is of them is sexy if you ask me. Also look how different he is with her by his side. Sharing more than he's been doing in his previous interviews. Being a little vulnerable cause she’s there with him. More than he has the entire episode. I cannot. This makes my heart so happy.

The look on Lucy’s face when they ask what place they’re in? She is also ready to throw down with them. Incensed they would even ask that. Her reply is perfection. Saying ‘If you don’t know, then you haven’t been paying attention.’ I remember thinking this was a shot at anyone complaining this season. (and I LOVED it) Which blew my mind btw whenever I saw it. Cause if you could be negative in a season this good what makes you happy? I remember unfollowing some people cause I didn't want their tainted vision in my feed. If you could look at their relationship and not see the beautiful progression you weren't watching the same season as me.

To not see what they’ve built to this point in the season. You are like Lucy said clearly not paying attention. I remember seeing some posts about not enough PDA, kisses or intimacy. (there was lots of intimacy btw just not straight up making out) You’re missing the point of the realistic healthy adult relationship that's being portrayed. They're not teenagers who will be angsty over nothing. These are people in a stage of their life where that nonsense isn't going to happen. Any angst they've had has been productive. If you came out of this episode thinking they needed to be more like Jake/Sava you missed the point entirely. Of this season really. They are not them.

The beauty of Lucy and Tim is in the small tender moments. The little things that add up to so much. Yes I love kisses and such don't get me wrong. God I love them. Will lose my mind over any in S6 no doubt. But there is so much more to a relationship than just that. The emotional intimacy and how they’ve grown together since 5x10 is unreal. The massive shift in Tim alone is enough to tell you how well written they are. What a healthy adult relationship looks like. Had their bumps along the way but what couples doesn’t? I just loved that line from Lucy. S5 is a game changer in the best way for them. If you can’t see it or how they've both grown together you clearly haven’t been paying attention. That line was amazing and I loved her saying as such.

The director takes shot at what place they're in. Coming up with some buzz words. As generic as he could possibly be. Lucy calls him out for it. Because it no where near describes what these two have. Tim is simmering as this guy continues to try and rile them up. I adore him ready to go off and Lucy immediately calms him with a single touch. That’s all takes for him to go from raging bull to heart eye Tim in an instant for her.

Tim was ready to thrown the hell down. I love protective Tim. Lucy taking the wheel in this moment is everything. Her touch basically saying she's got this. Looking directly at her man when she says this next line above. Also don’t think I didn’t see your eyes move to his lips madam. I do adore how she is looking at him. Exuding every ounce of love in her body for him as she speaks. They’re so in love make my heart hurt in the best way. Her eyes so full of warmth and affection for the man sitting next to her. They really are in a beautiful place. Making my shipper heart so very happy.

Tim’s sweet smiles as she rubs her thumb up and down his wrist in a soothing manner. I love it so very much. Never be over how she make's sure to keep eye contact as she calms him down. Tim also doesn't break his eye contact with her as she does this. They're killing me with all the shipper feels in this moment.

Let’s not forget her necklace on full display here. In this beautiful moment. Happy looks so damn good on them everyone. Another thing I love so much is how Tim lets her take over. He was ready to shut this down. Kick them out. She places her hand on his arm and he’s at peace. Lets her direct them from here on out. Only Lucy has the power to soothe him this quickly and effectively.

She’s calmed Tim down enough to have him rejoin the convo. Saying as police officer your future is never certain. Lucy adding on anything can happen at any time. Tim rolling it into kicking them out is amazing. Telling them straight up they’ve overstayed their welcome at this point. I mean they really have LOL Cracks me up how she turns her head towards him. Not really shocked but realizing he's over this now. Her smile is the best.

I love him pointing his finger. The shots at his relationship with Lucy were his breaking point. That is the most precious thing in world to him. Something so sacred. Why Lucy had to stop him from eating them lol Lucy’s reaction is the best. She loves this insane man sitting next to her so much. Her pushing his arm down like 'Ok babe that’s enough.' lmao. Such a wifey move to do that but also she knows Tim is at his limit. Tells them it's time to go now....

I love them instantly going into couple time mode once it's over. Lucy asking if he wants sushi? Tim saying how it’s perfect. Then looks back at them glaringly. Saying this place better be spotless when they get back. I love her escorting him out of the apt. Hand on his back directing him towards the front door before he pops off more. Such a married move. God damn I love them so much everyone. Fantastic ep from start to finish. ❤️

~~~~

Side notes-non chenford

Grey’s picture and how happy it makes him I love it so much. It’s so cute I can’t stand it.

He was so distraught when it was destroyed lol They replace it and it’s so sweet hilarious adorable thing for Grey.

Thank you to all my readers you make my entire day when you like, comment and reblog. Tis been a joy for me. See you all in 5x19 :)

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frogsmuahh037 · 5 months

Text

Joel miller hurt/comfort

this is my first time trying to write something like this so please be nice also sorry about spellings 🫶

joel miller x fem!reader

you’re having a bad day and joel is there to support you (we all love a little hurt comfort every once in a while)

1460 Words

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she walks into her home joel and her have made for themselves in Jackson. she was having a bad day everything was just going wrong, she was helping in the gardens she smashed not one but two pots (two separate occasions by the way) she sliced her hand open somehow on the pot which made clean up a whole lot messier and that was only the start of it. when she finally got home she was overwhelmed all she wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep. she walks into the house and it’s a mess after joel saying he’d promise to clean up which obviously didn’t happen. instead of greeting joel in the living room like she usaly would she headed straight upstairs just wanting to get away from it all. As she headed to bed, Joel was leaning against the doorway watching her, his brow slightly scrunched together. Once he saw that she had settled herself in, he sighed and approached her. He wanted to leave it at that, but he felt like they had to talk about what had been happening. So he sat down at the foot of her bed, hands on his knees.

"Sweetie, we have to talk."

she looked up from the cocoon of duvets she was wrapped in meeting joel’s eyes she knew the tone of his voice, the slight hesitation that it wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have.

“what about?..”

Joel paused, his eyes slowly looking at her for a moment. Then he breathed in and out once.

"Can you come out from under those covers? Please?"

she sat up pushing the covers to her lap she bit at her cracked bottom lip feeling an anxiety ball in her stomach “what’s wrong joel?”

Joel crossed his left leg on top of his right, moving his hands to his lap. In a neutral expression, he looked her in the eye again, and sighed. "Sweetie, I'm worried about you."

“why? i’m fine” she looked up at him smiling hoping that would calm his worry’s and she wouldn’t have to further this conversation

"No, you're not." He quickly shot down, leaning forward in his chair again. "I'm not blind; I see the way you act sometimes. This whole thing with the gardening...that's not normal."

“gardening..isn’t normal?” she smiled trying to brush it off.

Joel gave her a soft smile, but he shook his head and spoke up again."No, sweetheart, losing your temper over a couple of broken pots isn't normal. Not when you're such a calm, level-headed person. Are you sure everything's okay?"

“how do you… i’m fine it was just a mistake how did you know about that..?” she felt herself get more anxious looking down at her lap fidgeting her her hands.

Joel looked up and raised his eyebrows slightly, wondering how to explain it in a way that wouldn't make him seem like a stalker.

"One of the neighbors...umm...they mentioned it in passing. Said you seemed really stressed out. I wanted to make sure you were okay and..." Joel paused for a moment, realizing he had no way to avoid sounding like a creep. "And that I didn't need to worry."

“well you don’t because i’m fine joel” she pulls the covers off her hoping to escape the conversation by making some excuse “i think i’m gonna go make some dinner it’s getting late”

"Is it something I'm doing? Or is it something to do with the past; something that makes you like this sometimes?" Joel shook his head.

"It's not just the pots, and deep down you know that. I know there's more going on, so how about you talk to me instead of brushing me off?" He paused and looked her in the eyes, showing some worry.

“like what joel? what have i done” she felt herself getting irritated with the constant questioning she knew he wanted to do right by her but she just felt so weird talking about that kinda stuff

"Sweetie, you know that there's something...off." He paused for a moment. "Look at how you've been acting. Always in a bad mood, always irritated and you snap at me for no reason. I'm not angry, I'm not blaming you, I just want to know what's going on." He paused again, and sighed.

"And if there's anything I can do to help." He said, his tone now softer.

she felt the guilt seeping through her. she knew she hasn’t been a very good partner recently and joel’s been so good through all of it he didn’t deserve that. she felt her chest clam up and a lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite swallow “i-i’m… i’m sorry joel”

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're going through a lot, I understand that. But I am here to support you however I can, and you just have to be open with me and let me know what's going on." He paused, and pulled away from the hug. He placed his hands back in his lap. "Please."

“i don’t know how.. how to explain it. everything has just been going wrong and every time i try to fix it everything just gets worse and i- i don’t know what to do”

she only just noticed the tears rolling down her face clouding her vision. Joel gave her a warm, empathetic smile, then got up from the chair. As he stood, he knelt down to her level and hugged her once more. He just stayed still for a moment, but then spoke softly.

"It's okay, sweetie. Sometimes life just decides it wants to kick you in the ass and you just have to take it. You know you can always count on me to support you through it all. That's what I'm here for."

“i just feel so weak asking for help i should be able to handle this kinda stuff on my own why… why can’t i?” she mumbled into joel’s chest her tears getting heavier as she comes to terms with how she’s feeling. Joel kissed the top of her head, not speaking for a couple of seconds. He then hugged her tighter and sighed once more.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to handle it on your own. There's nothing shameful about asking for help. You're one of the toughest people I know and even you get overwhelmed now and then. Life's just an ass like that." He paused, then looked her in the eyes once more. “So talk to me, okay? I'm here to help."

“i will… im sorry for being so mean to you, you didn’t deserve it” she looked up at him still feeling guilty.

Joel smiled warmly and waved his hand. "Sweetie, no apologies necessary. I understand what you're going through, and I know you don't mean any of it. What's past is past, and I'm not upset. So how about we start over? Clean slate?" He paused and held out his hand to her. "Shake on it?" He said, his tone slightly light-hearted and teasing.

she smiled laughing at his antics. “yeah shake on it”she takes his and shaking it “do you think we could..ehm go to bed?” she was starting to feel really tired she felt awkward asking for some reason.

"Sure we can, sweetheart." He leaned down and picked her up from the floor. "You ready for this big strong man to carry you to bed?" He said jokingly, walking towards the bedroom. As he entered the room, he sat down on the bed and looked at her for a moment, smiling before he placed her down and leaned back onto the mattress.

she giggles grasping onto joel not wanting to fall “don’t you dare drop me”

"I wouldn't dare drop you, sweetheart. Not when you're so precious to me." he lays her down on the bed getting her comfortable he lays next to her "Come and cuddle with me," He said, opening up his arms and gesturing towards himself. they get into bed and she snuggled up to joel’s chest as her wrapped her arms around her

Joel let go of an arm around her and pulled the covers over them both, moving closer to her once more. He rubbed his hand against her back and looked to see if she was comfortable, and then kissed the top of her head again. "Are you ready to take a little bit of a nap? It's late, and you seem pretty tired," He said with a kind, calm tone.

“mhm~ yes please” she mumbled into his chest. They both stayed still for a moment, before Joel began to slowly nod off, feeling his eyes get heavier by the second. As he felt her do the same, he softly whispered,

"Get some sleep, Sweetheart."

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THANK YOUU~ i hope you enjoyed it i know it’s a little short and i’d love any feedback you have <33

p.s. requests are open!

#joel miller x reader #tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller comfort #joel x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you

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