#this is the first time i've drawn him and he fucking kicked and bit me the whole time.

[always-andromeda]

𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Joel Miller x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 2,896

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ When Joel and Ellie return to Jackson, you learn that Joel might not be telling the full truth about the pair's journey to Salt Lake City.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ this thing is rough. and terrible. but I've had seeds of this in my drafts for the last year and I really wanted to embrace some angst for a hot second. so enjoy my first fic post-finals season lmao. also. I'm experimenting with styles so excuse the hot mess of a title card. divider by @saradika-graphics <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ no smut but regardless, minors do not interact. post-outbreak universe. angst, little bits of fluff and banter, but mostly angst. some sweet Ellie interactions. allusions to past relationship between reader and Joel. mentions of alcohol. descriptions of canon-typical blood and violence. nothing else I can think of but please let me know if anything else should be added!

THIS ACCOUNT STANDS WITH PALESTINE ⟡ HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE ⟡ DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

Part of you hadn't expected Joel to come back. The snow melted away and the flowers had begun to bloom once more but he was still gone. And in this world, gone is as good as dead. So that's what you assumed.

While Tommy held out hope – talking about what he had to show Joel when he got back – you didn't even dare to speak his name. You couldn't fathom what had happened to him or the miracle girl he'd ridden into Jackson with. But you hoped it was quick. Though you knew full well that men like him rarely ever earned merciful endings.

You allowed yourself to wish for it, though only for a few seconds at a time. Then it was back to reality, going on patrols, lending a hand wherever it was needed, and keeping the community alive. Anything to get your mind off the fact that he probably wasn't coming back.

You hadn't known Ellie long during their initial visit. Even still, her personality wasn't one that could be swallowed lightly. She had been inquisitive, skeptical, and sarcastic; a bundle of anger and hope so bright that you could see why Joel was so drawn to her. It made complete sense that he would see her deliverance to the Fireflies through.

Which is why you were shocked when Joel Miller and the miracle girl waltzed right back through the gates of Jackson. But they were both different; both fragmented versions of the people who had passed through the prior winter.

For one, he smiled. When Joel first locked eyes with you upon their homecoming, he fucking smiled. It was this crooked, delicate thing that seemed to waver once it reached his eyes. And that's when you knew that something was wrong. He didn't even have to say it. The unspoken truth was solidified with Ellie's silence.

There would be no cure.

You'd shared a weary look with Tommy then. And he'd pursed his lips at you before returning Joel's smile; a quiet acknowledgement that you were both aware of the uncanniness in both Ellie and Joel's behavior. Then he led the two off, probably to get them something to eat and then to confer with Maria on where they could stay.

The two of them adjusted well to the community. You’d heard from others about how large of a help Joel had been on patrols. His experience in taking down infected was invaluable. Ellie, on the other hand, had thrown herself into helping with the animals. At first she struggled to adapt to the early morning schedule of the other handlers, but otherwise she took to the tasks quickly. She seemed the most at peace around them and you understood it.

Jackson was the closest thing to friendly that you’d encountered in years. But it still got a little suffocating at times.

Outside of the animals, Ellie was quiet; mostly keeping to herself with her nose buried in a notebook.

This was another one of those instances. You took a step back from your current task: repairing part of a fence that had been kicked in by one of the horses. As you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you couldn’t help but notice the girl sitting crossed legged atop a bale of hay a few feet from where you stood. 

Making your way towards her, you saw she was drawing again. And as you peeked over her shoulder, you spotted a sketch of the horses as the riders were taking them back into their barn. In the half hour since they’d ridden past she’d managed to capture their swift movements in each rough figure. On the next page over you identified a portrait that was immediately familiar to you.

"Is that Joel?" you'd asked, gesturing to the open book in her lap.

She seemed startled from a daze upon hearing your voice. "Hm?"

"That drawing. It's Joel, right?"

"Oh, yeah," she answered. "I guess I'm getting better, huh? Since you can actually tell who it's supposed to be,” she huffed.

"With those eyebrows and that nose? Who else could it possibly be?"

Sure, he and Tommy shared some similarities. But Tommy’s wrinkles weren’t quite that deep. And though Joel had grown his hair out a bit more since coming to Jackson, it hadn’t quite reached his shoulders the way that Tommy’s did.

Right away, you were sure it was Joel. You could already envision the wrinkle between his thick brows that seemed to perpetually haunt his face. His lips were a thin line – almost pursed – and topped with a slightly overgrown mustache. Yet it wasn’t an angry expression. More…vulnerable, perhaps. As if Ellie had asked him to stand still for a minute before scribbling a rough outline of his features for reference.

"Well..." she trailed off. "The first few times I tried...he just looked like a constipated potato."

You snorted, which immediately made the girl start to smile, "It's true!"

Relieved to see her in such a good mood, you pushed a little further, "One day I'd like to see these angry potato drawings. Because I bet they're just as true to life as this one." You pointed towards her drawing.

Thankfully, she laughed. A few seconds passed and her voice went small, "Do you really think it looks good?" She stared up at you with those dark brown eyes, searching for your approval.

You nodded. "I wasn’t an art critic before the outbreak. But I am an expert on that man’s face. And I think it's pretty damn good. I’m sure you’ll only get better the more you practice.”

She murmurs her gratitude before falling back into a trance. Hair blowing gently in the wind around her face, you can’t help but notice the way that light gradually fades from her eyes.

“You alright?”

“Has he been acting…weird…to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve known him longer than I have,” she sounds hesitant to admit. “You used to know him, I mean.”

You didn’t want to tell her the truth and further her worries. But something tells you that if you attempted to lie, she’d see right through it anyways. She’d find some way to get to the truth.

“He’s definitely been a little quiet lately. Just don’t know what for. Then again, he’s never been the type to share his feelings with anyone.”

“Not even with you?”

You snort, “Especially not me.” Remembering years of passive aggressive arguments and wordless apologies, it was unlikely that that part of him had changed much since those days. 

“Could you at least try to figure out what’s up with him?” for a moment, you detect a palpable anxiety in her tone. But she brushes it away swiftly before adding, “At least so we can rule out the possibility of dementia. Or whatever the fuck else it is that old people get.”

You roll your eyes at the attempt of a joke. “You’ve got it. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Turns out that saying you’d talk to Joel was a lot easier than actually doing it.

But then again, it had once been like this. All those years ago when it was just you, him, Tess, his brother, and the rest of the group that was moving through to Boston. Back then you’d always been at least a little afraid of him. Not only was he physically imposing and regularly proved the violence that laid just below the surface of his fingertips, but there was also the way he’d look at you like with that fucking face.

Like he was playing out how he’d get rid of you the moment you fucked up. Like he knew just how soft you were inside; how it was a wonder you’d even lived long enough to be standing in front of him looking as dumbfounded as you did. It was an expression that made your skin burn and your hands shake, only you were too stubborn to outwardly show it bothered you.

Slowly but surely, he’d mellowed out then. Surely, it would happen again.

If he was going to make any actual friends in town, it’d have to happen. He was already popular in his own right. The people of Jackson always got curious when someone new settled. It certainly didn’t help that this new someone happened to be Tommy’s brother.

They seemed to believe that Joel would be just like his bright eyed, bushy tailed little brother. And boy, did you get a kick out of seeing them realize how wrong they were.

Joel was polite, of course. But he wasn’t quick to cozy up with every person who came to his doorstep offering a housewarming present. No matter how many times you or Tommy assured Joel that it was all just friendly, he was reluctant to accept it.

You understood it. You’d had nearly as difficult a time acclimating to Jackson’s genial climate. Places like these just…couldn’t exist. It all felt like a mirage that would melt away in time. However, you came to discover that despite the close quarters and the occasionally nosy neighbors, you liked the place. To explain it simply, you liked belonging to something. The world would never be the way it was before, for better and for worse. But right here…people weren’t just surviving. They would live. 

And ever since he returned, you intended to show Joel just what that felt like.

The sun’s setting and the citizens of Jackson are already settling in for the evening, save for a handful of teenagers lingering in the streets. You pass by them, making your way towards the house at the end of the road. It’s a path you’ve become familiar with in the weeks since you started visiting Joel on an almost daily basis.

They aren’t always frivolous visits. Sometimes you help move furniture around. Sometimes you bring food when he’s been working all day. And sometimes on nights like tonight, if you manage to trade for a particularly good bottle of whiskey, you bring it straight to him to share.

It’s a good routine. One that makes you believe that you and him can bury the hatchet and start anew. If anything, it proves that though much time has passed since you and him had first met, you still know damn good and well how to push his buttons.

You knock on his door and are met with an obviously exhausted Joel. It’s hard to stop yourself from giving him a quick once over. When you do, you notice his hair has gotten the tiniest bit shaggier. Tufts of curls spill over his forehead and under his ears. He’d always cut it before it ever got the chance to grow like that.

The sight makes you smile. Joel Miller will never admit it, but living in Jackson is really starting to look good on him.

He rolls his eyes, “You again?”

“Oh, hush, you’re thrilled to see me,” you say before inviting yourself inside and heading straight towards his kitchen to deposit your alcoholic spoils.

“Thrilled is one hell of a descriptor.”

“Says the man who I’m sharing my liquor with.” You hold the bottle up before setting it down on his kitchen counter. “Besides, I’m just trying to get you a little out of your shell.”

Joel mumbles, “I’m doin’ alright on my own.”

“By fine you mean you’re fine trailing behind Tommy for the rest of your life? Because that’s the direction you’re headed in.”

He lets out an exasperated chuckle, “You know I made friends just fine before you came along, right?”

“Then you should have no problems with surprise visits from an old friend.” You intended to sound smug saying it. Instead it came off more longing than anything else.

Perhaps because you aren’t entirely sure what you and Joel even are anymore. A long time ago there was something more. But now? You look in his eyes and see apprehension brewing in them. He could go back and forth with you all day. Sincerity, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

Joel clears his throat before changing the subject. “You seen Ellie today? Tommy and I were up early for patrol this mornin’ so I didn’t get to check in with ‘er.”

“Oh, yeah, she was at the farm earlier. She’s been a real big help.”

“She doin’ alright?”

“Uh, she seems…nervous…to say the least.”

His brow furrows as his eyes meet yours. “Nervous? About what?”

You laugh awkwardly. “Are you even aware of all that she’s been through?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” The challenge in his voice is apparent.

“I just mean–” you stumble over your words before stopping to take a breath. You close your eyes and see Ellie’s face all over again; her features the embodiment of white noise. You’re swiftly moving into dangerous territory. But it still needs to be traversed. And there’s no going back after this.

“She’s been through a lot, Joel. One minute she’s being pushed around at some FEDRA boarding school. The next thing she knows she’s traveling across the country with the world on her shoulders. Now she’s here.” And there’s no cure, your mind whispers.

“Your point is…?”

You snap, “My point is that that’s a lot to fucking deal with, Joel.”

“She’s resilient,” he replies with an equal amount of grit.

“She’s a kid.”

He’s quiet. He can’t refute that. 

“And she saved your life,” you add.

He scoffs, “More times than I can count.”

“Don’t you think that entitles her to a little better than what you’re giving? A little more support? She’s living in that garage all alone and she’s–” His expression remains steely. Almost out of desperation, you bridge the gap between your hand and his.

“Please, tell me what happened. Why are you—”

“Don’t,” his tone is jagged and low; the growl a wounded dog gives when you step towards it. That’s when it hits you. Something about this terrifies him. And the shreds of trust leftover between you and him are the only thing keeping him from showing his teeth.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him look that afraid. The closest memory you can grasp is one from nearly a decade before when you and Joel had strayed from the group to scavenge a nearby grocery store. You’d never been very good at checking your surroundings. You hardly saw the haggard man coming at you. But you saw the flash of his knife. Felt the blade slash the side of your arm as you struggled with him. Felt a store shelf jab you in the back.

It had taken seconds after hearing the sound of your scream pierce the air for Joel to fly over and bring the man to the ground. A guttural yell in his throat, his fist fell continually. Over and over and over until the man was audibly choking on his own blood. You heard a small, strangled please. Then there’s one final, wet thunk; the sound of his own blade being buried into his flesh.

You remember Joel’s shoulders sagging when you got back to camp with the others. His knuckles were bright red. You gently wrapped them with cloth as he squeezed your knee with his uninjured hand.

You were exhausted that night but sleep wouldn’t find you. Joel would though. Through the quiet you’d realize that Joel was the only person you trusted to do so.

He barely uttered a word for a day or so afterwards. Part of you had expected to hear him chastise you for paying such little attention; to tell you that you were lucky he’d saved your ass again. Strangely, those words never came.

The next night he stared intently at the gauze covering the cut on your arm. In the cold, dark, dead of night while everyone else slept, he was fixated on you. Something about that look of his scared you more than his judgment ever did. 

The only words he ever spoke of the incident would come out of his mouth as the fire crackled and reflected in his dark eyes, “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” That was the moment you saw how much fear this world had instilled in him. Even more, you finally understood that his love language was violence.

That’s how you start to understand why he practically snarls at you now. But it doesn’t mean you agree with it.

“You have to tell me at some point or another,” you say slowly and carefully, trying to make it clear that you mean no harm to him. “At the very least, you have to tell her. She’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”

Joel sighs. You can tell that he knows this; knows it better than anyone else in the world. He’d probably run the notion over in his mind dozens of times at that point. “I will. Just…just not now. Just—”

Though his eyes will no longer meet yours, you hope that he’s telling the truth. 

“Alright,” you reply softly.

Eyebrow raised and lips pursed, he looks skeptical. “Alright?”

“Yeah. You–” There’s so much more you wish you could say. But you doubt he’d really hear any of it. After all, he’s just as wounded and stubborn as you.  “I believe you.”

“Okay.”

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚ #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfic #the last of us hbo fanfic

[jopzer]

jamie tartt it seems I’ve grown quite fond of you tho there are no sexual urges or desires you come to me as a long lost friend whom i once threw apples with in papa’s orchard

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #my art #this is the first time i've drawn him and he fucking kicked and bit me the whole time. #prick. i love you. #i don't think i got the mouth quite right but i need to study him some more #art #digital art #fan art #anyway i'm a ted lasso guy now. sorry fellas. i didn't anticipate it either

[kanekisfavoritegf]

Well Done

I finally re did this

COD GHOST

i should honestly make it a series since i’ve written multiple that are all kinda connected but i’m lazy

warnings: dry humping, a tiny bit of praise, if you squint.

Sweat dripped down your body as you stood in the middle of the empty training room. You had been in there for a little over an hour. Your knuckles were now bloody, and your legs were probably covered in bruises. It was a little past two A.M., and you couldn't fall asleep, opting to train until your body finally gave in.

In a few hours, you'd be introduced to the members of 141. You were nervous. It was your first time being paired with the special operation group.

You were officially a sniper, one of the top five in your country to be exact. But now, you were being asked to go undercover for a mission to seduce a drug lord until the 141 were ready to collect you and kill him.

A lot was running through your mind, and all you could do was take your anger out on the sack of sand before you. Kicking and punching every ounce of anxiety away.

You were lost so deeply in a trance that you ended up not noticing the man who now stood behind you. You jumped a little at his tap on your shoulder.

The first thing you noticed was his chest. Not because you are drawn to them but because of his ridiculously tall frame. His eyes were the next thing to catch your attention, as they were the only thing that you could see at this moment. You knew who it was immediately.

“Ghost?” You were a little surprised to see him so early in the morning.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He questioned, causing you to scoff a little since he was just as awake as you.

“Are you my superior?” You responded, turning back to the punching bag in front of you.

“No, but I bet I outrank you.” You could practically see the smirk on his face from the tone he was speaking in.

“Oh, I bet.” You said in a sarcastic tone.

Turning your attention back to the object in front of you, you raised your leg to strike at the bag once more, but before you could kick, the man behind you grabbed your leg, pulling it to him as he reached out for his hand to your shoulder pushing you down. Causing your back to meet the ground with a loud thud.

“How mature of you.” You while letting out a large huff looking up at him in annoyance.

“Hilarious coming from you, Y/N.” he quipped back.

“It’s Rogue.” You corrected him.

“They finally gave you an alias, huh?”

“I've had it for quite some time now. You were just off on many different missions, Riley. A lot has changed. Since we first met.”

He lowered his mouth to your ear, whispering the words, “I can tell.” You were at a loss for words.

He was the man you met when you were a rookie sniper on a mission in Dubai. You had been reckless and a little too confident despite it being your second official mission. Long story short, You and Ghost were in hiding for a few days for the death of a widely known senator as you waited for the government to settle things.

You had an okay relationship with him, not particularly good, but it wasn't exactly bad either. You barely ever saw him now, not after you began to rise in skill and rank. You were both off doing solo and group missions. Though it has only happened two or three times you've ever had this awful habit of fucking him whenever you were in close proximity for more than 15 minutes.

The annoyance that flowed through you distracted you from realizing the promiscuous position that the two of you were now in. He was on his knees in between your legs, one of his hands resting on your upper thigh, holding it in place around his waist, while his other hand rested beside your neck.

You tried wriggling out of his hold, but it was pointless. All it did was cause him to press more of his body weight onto you. If you decided to struggle anymore, you'd just end up dry-humping him.

“I thought you had gotten better at this.” He chuckled above you, leaning in a little.

“You caught me off guard.” You retorted with speed.

“You should always be aware of the people around you.” His eyes squinted a little. You felt his weight press down a little more. It almost felt like he was trying to grind on you.

“I was aware of you, I just didn't think you'd try to tackle me.” You said a little breathlessly. Gasping at the feeling of his semi-hard length pressing into you.

“Don't see me as a threat?” He teased.

“No, you are far too weak.” You smirked a little as you heard him scoff. He stared at you for a few seconds before deciding to speak.

“You look good, Rogue.” He took his time saying your new name. Staring deeply into your eyes.

“I wish I could say the same but...” You joked at his mask.

“You should be a comedian.” He said in a monotone voice.

The tension between you felt too intense, as his face was now a few centimeters away from yours. You could feel the fabric of his mask graze your skin ever so slightly. Taking this opportunity, you slid to the side a little. You tightened your legs around the man, using all your power to flip him over.You were now on top of him. Resting right above his crotch. You had him pinned.

“You should be more aware.” Your eyes shined as you smiled down at him.

Simon slowly sat up, making you to now be face-to-face with him as you straddled his lap. His hand slowly raised to each side of your waist. Your face fell in shock as he began to rock you over his dick.

Your mind went blank as you felt the pressure of his dick sliding against your cunt. He rested his head on your shoulder. Groaning little at the feeling you moving on him. He uttered praises into your neck.

“Well done.” Was the most coherent thing he had said, since he started rocking into you.

Was this a dream?

Where you losing your mind?

Had he lost his mind?

Whatever it didn't matter.

You would say something in return, but you were starting to feel your sanity slip away as his hard-on started to rub harder against your clothed cunt.

You let yourself give in to pleasure. Not caring if anyone entered anymore.

#ghost thirst #ghost cod smut #cod ghost thirst #simon ghost riley smut #cod ghosts #ghost smut #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #simon riley thirst #simon riley smut #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

[quanticowrites]

The Wrong One Pt. 3 (Timothy McGee x Reader)

•• GAH I got something done. Part 3 and final part of this fic. Enjoy! ••

The headlights are practically blinding, but you're able to see them reach for the car door and push it open. They step out to show that they have a hood over their face.

"Who are you?"

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet?" They ask, sounding annoyed. "I thought leaving my necklace at the crime scene would make it pretty clear."

"HEY-!" They reach for their hood.

"I'm just showing you who I am." The calmness in their voice made your stomach churn. You watched as they pulled the hood back. You feel your gun slip out of your hands.

It was like looking in the mirror.

"Surprised?" She laughed. "Looks like Mom and Dad didn't tell you everything." Your mind was spinning as you watched her sprint toward you. You managed to twist yourself mid-fall so that she was beneath you, giving you a slight advantage. "Aww, don't feel bad. I didn't know I had a twin either." She laughed, clocking you in the jaw with her elbow. "Not that it matters, you know, I'm going to kill you and take your place." You spit in her eye and rolled towards your gun. If you could just reach it. "You're not better than me, just because they didn't give you up!" You flinched as her fingers came a bit too close to your eyes for comfort.

"You think you can be me? Huh?" You laughed. "You'd be found out in a heartbeat. My husband would know you were a fake the second you walk through our front door."

"Don't be too sure." You pinned her arms as she reached for your gun. Shit, you thought. Now we're both pinned like this. "I've been watching you for months, learning your routine."

"Oh just fuck off." You hiss. "You're pinned." She smirked.

"So are you."

"My team will be here any minute."

"No, they won't. They don't have any clue where you are. I disabled your car's GPS while you were at the Lieutenant's apartment and I've got a cell jammer in my car."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Miss Perfect." She wiggled and got out of your hold, despite your best effort, sending a kick to your lower abdomen. "FUCK YOU!" You didn't know what came out of your mouth, but you were sure it didn't qualify as words. She got the gun in her hands and you jumped up just in time to miss a bullet to the leg. Is it a good or a bad thing she didn't know how to shoot? At this range, it didn't matter much. "Alright, get in my car."

"Why should I? You're just gonna kill me." She cocked the gun back.

"You can decide if you want it slow and painful." You sigh, standing up. At the moment you didn't have much choice. You both stopped and listened to the sound of squealing tires.

"My team won't be here, huh?"

"GET IN THE CAR OR I'LL SHOOT YOU NOW!" You knew she was serious, so you headed toward her car. She came up behind you and you stopped and threw your head back. You felt her nose crack against the back of your skull. "AUGH!" She put the gun right up against your neck and pushed you into the door of her car. "BITCH! YOU'RE GONNA BLEED OUT-!" Brakes squealed and a gunshot rang out, You flinched, but you weren't hit. Her body dropped behind you and you turned. Gibbs, Tim, Nick, and Ellie all stood outside the Charger, weapons drawn. Tim was the first to holster his weapon and start towards you. You met him halfway and he wrapped you up tightly in his arms.

"How'd you find me?" He laughed.

"I put an Airtag in your trunk." You blinked. He couldn't have done that after you went to the Lieutenants. You leaned back and looked up at him and his sheepish grin.

"How long has that been there?" His face turned redder than it already was. You patted him on the chest.

"I think I can forgive you this time."

"So," Ellie came up beside Tim as Nick started putting up crime scene tape. "I take it you didn't know about the whole twin thing?" Gibbs was off to the side on the phone, presumably with Leon. You stiffened. Shit. You proved your innocence but you still defied an order from the director. Hopefully, he would be understanding and just give you a week of unpaid leave.

"No," You finally answered. "Not until she showed her face just now." You look down at her body before quickly looking away. "Can we cover her up until Ducky and Jimmy get here? I don't like looking at myself dead on the ground." Ellie nodded before quickly going to scour the trunk of the car for anything that could shield her from view.

"Hey." You jump at Gibbs's voice being so close. You didn't notice him walk over. "You alright?" You nodded.

"Yeah. How pissed is the Director?" He laughed, smiling.

"The usual amount." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking toward where your car was in the ditch. "Tow truck's on the way. Since your car is evidence It'll be towed back to NCIS."

"Evidence?"

"She hit it with her car, right?" He pointed. "Plus, I think your dash cam caught her entire confession on video."

"I think it's still recording. I can see the red dot in the corner." Ellie added and you smiled.

"I knew getting one of them was going to be a good investment." You elbowed Tim and he sighed.

"Okay, I was wrong about the dashcam being useless, happy?" You smirked.

"Very." With that video, you were pretty much cleared of the murder charges, but you knew you still had to face the Director and some form of punishment. Better than being dead, you supposed. Tim wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. Yep. Definitely better.

Tag list:

@stanathanxoox , @nikkiwierden , @malindacath , @havlindzk , @countrygal17a , @memyselfandmaddox , @octobersmog , @mizzezm , @diaryofafan17 , @emmitheacefangirl , @a-sad-excuse-of-everything , @marennnx

#timothy mcgee x reader #mcgee x reader #ncis x reader

[fushigurro]

Hiii robin! If you're cool with it, I wanted to ask, is there a certain moment with your selfships when you realize you ship with them, or is it a slow process that just kinda happens?

hi romy!!!! ❤️

tbh it kinda depends and i'm not always totally sure LMAO i'm a little all over the place with it. like a lot of the time i have a hard time deciding and i'm trying to create a classification system in my head akfjofijwe tho it probably shouldn't be that deep my brain just loves to cling to systematization and gets frustrated when it can't properly execute it lmfao. but anyways i shall try my best collect my thoughts and describe how i perceive my tendencies!!

i'll put it below the cut bc i always ramble lolol

there are definitely some ships where it was more of a slow progression and i had to eventually be like "yeah okay this is what it is" because it was getting to the point where they weren't going to leave. i could easily envision more in-depth scenarios between them and myself and/or lore that just seemed to naturally spring up and i just kept thinking about them all the time.

i'd say megumi is a good example of the slow-burn. he honestly wasn't the kind of character that heavily struck me when i first watched the anime and started reading the manga; in fact, i recall being like "oh great, another little hateful emo boy" LOL (historically they're not usually the type i'm drawn to). but i got to know his character better over time and realized that like. damn. i have rather intense feelings about this guy adjewoijfwof

toji and jean were a bit more on the "slower" side of development as well i suppose. and not "slow" in the sense it took several months or years or anything (i've only been self-shipping for about a year) but it was something i had to ease into a bit more i guess.

i actually hated toji at first but then the daddy issues kicked into overdrive and i eventually started catching feelings LMFAO and jean was my first self-ship ever. he's the first one where i felt comfortable enough to imagine myself with someone like that <3 i hadn't really truly done anything like that in years, but i loved his character so much that i was starting to actually insert myself in reader stuff rather than completely detaching like i used to. i could see myself with him.

suga, on the other hand, was the kind that hit me like a freight train. maybe it's because i'm more comfortable with self-shipping now, but it was easier for me to realize it and take it to self-ship level pretty quickly. not only was i obsessed with him from pretty much the first fucking moment, but the subsequent relationship daydreams have been insane LOL i mean i gave it a little bit of time because i hate the idea of being overly impulsive and irrational due to infatuation but uh. i fucking love him lmao

katsuki is..... *sigh* idk. he also kind of hit me like a freight train, at least with the daydream scenarios and whatnot, and i was hoping and praying it was just a phase (still kind of am) but i guess i've sort of accepted that it's not. or it's at least a longer-lasting phase than most lol idk. but i can't stop thinking about him and i'd rather just go ahead and call it a self-ship instead of continuing to try and wait it out or deny it. the brainrot is bad

ANYWAYS sorry for being unable to shut the fuck up as per usual lmfao but yeah!!! i tried to give some examples of how this shit works in my mind. right now i guess i'm sort of organizing things by how regularly/consistently i think about a character over time and with what degree of ease i imagine myself with them in several scenarios, but this is by no means the sort of parameters i think everyone should use when it comes to this. people should do whatever the fuck they want i just take shit too seriously sometimes and wish i could be more chill actually instead of trying to create a classification system for everything in my brain 😃 but here we are

#letters. #moot: romy

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

Anyway. Some observations.

God I love this theme

Apparently Ghirahim knew of Link and was hoping the tornado would kill him

Ghirahim calls Zelda Her Majesty

Link, despite knowing at this point that Ghirahim is hostile, HAS NOT DRAWN HIS SWORD,

Bitch (affectionate)

Link finally draws his sword after Ghirahim introduces himself- apparently hoping Link would die is fine, but mentioning he's a demon? Oh no

Is that a chain on his cape? That looks like a chain

The screen started shaking a bit a while ago but here's where it gets real bad, when Ghirahim mentions Impa

Dramatic bitch (affectionate)

His teleporting is kind of cool, actually

"Appetite for bloodshed" He licks his sword during the fight so... that was literal, I guess

He sneaks up behind Link and that's just. It's so damn funny. Why did you get in his face like that

Also yeah that's. That's just a chain. On his cape. Bro what.

Ghirahim: I'm a lord so it's not right for me to flat out murder you :) I can however beat you senseless :)

Seriously why is Link just letting him stand so close like that Ghirahim is not holding a weapon or anything

Actually how much taller is Ghirahim? He's leaning over a bit, he's like six inches taller at the most?

He wiggles his fingers, kinda like he's about to draw a weapon (he does not)

Cape on, time for a monologue. Cape off, time for an ass kicking

Why does he walk like that

WHY DOES HE HAVE ABS

His fists are clenched when Link doesn't have his sword drawn

He backhand SLAPS YOU

He actually gives Link advice lol

When he manages to grab Link's sword, he swings it if you stay close and then THROWS IT

He'll also head for it instead of towards you if you don't pick it up

Link rolls to pick it up and Ghirahim will sometimes teleports away as soon as he does

You can parry and knock it out of his hand

His jump backwards is so weird I love it. Why did you do it like that tho

If you just stand there with your sword drawn and don't try to attack, he will flip his hair a bit with his other hand (bastard (affectionate))

No matter how close your sword gets, he won't grab it. You have to attack

Also uh if you stand there too long he uh. He slaps you. I know because I just stood there too long (his patience seems to run out at three or four hair flips)

You cannot force him to go backwards

There's some sort of shield around him that makes Skyward Strikes unable to hit him

There are the same slits on the back of his pants? Not sure if I've ever noticed that before

Ok he's not licking the sword no matter how many times he hits Link :(

When you parry his attacks, he seems to adjust his grip on his sword a bit?

He twirls the sword just a bit after hitting Link with the running attack (which seems to his favorite)

Uh anyway my shield just broke. So. No more fun battle observations :(

It's REALLY HARD to backflip away from the running attack

He calls Link soft lmao

Also he very briefly seems to clutch his face after the final attack?

That sword is the only reason I still live? No, it's my MAD PARRYING SKILLS

(Why can't I parry like this in botw...)

Ghirahim's sword is very cool honestly

Teasing and toying? Bro I just spent half an hour on a fight I could've finished in five minutes. I was toying with you

Huh. It's not Skychild, its just sky child. (Why did I think it was the first one?)

Dramatic fucking exit lmao

Anyway to conclude. I spent too much time on that BUT. at least I have something to use in my fic now?

#ghirahim #loz ghirahim #skyward sword #loz ss #mb plays a game #saving for later

[loosesodamarble]

Hey my dear Loo

Ok for you ask game 1,2,23

Have a nice day☺️

Hey there dear Marune! I've got your questions and the answers to them! And thank you for the well wishes for my day! I hope the day/night/etc that you have is wonderful too!

..........

1) that makes me smile

This is ooooooold writing of mine. But BOY it makes me soft! I was more in the Demon Slayer fandom in the early days of my blog (as it was that series and talking ocs with a friend that got me onto Tumblr in the first place). And I wrote this birthday fic for Inosuke, because he is my fictional son./lh+j AND AAAAAHHHHH!

In the end, Shizuka ended up bringing Inosuke to her borrowed room at the mansion to read through some children’s books, courtesy of Shinobu. They sat side-by-side on her bed, the book of focus held between them. They went back and forth reading sentences and if Inosuke ever stumbled, Shizuka would get him back on track. Occasionally, Shizuka would glance at her pillow, under which her gift was hidden. The reading session lasted until evening due to Inosuke’s insistence on reading every book. “The end,” Shizuka said while closing the final book. She looked out the window and at the early night sky. The dinner is going to be late I guess. Her eyes were drawn to the pillow. Shizuka reached a hand under it and slowly slid the wrapped haori out from under. “Hey, Shizuka.” Immediately, Shizuka’s head turned at the sound of her name, her actual name. Inosuke smiled at her, differently than how he usually did. This time, his grin was soft. He slung an arm around Shizuka’s shoulders and buried his face in her hair. Shizuka felt feverish from head to toe. Her heart skipped. Her breath hitched. All because of Inosuke’s closeness. “I know I drag you around a lot but it’s 'cause I like spending time with you,” Inosuke whispered. “Especially today. It’s the first birthday I really got to have. And having you be a part of it was nice. Thanks.” Turning, Shizuka let go of the wrapped gift then embraced Inosuke. “Anything for you,” she whispered back. “Happy birthday, Inosuke.”

It like the ending of the fic (so uh spoiler alert for a fic I wrote a few years ago?). It's an unexpectedly tender moment from Inosuke and Shizuka is also reassured that she didn't need to do anything particularly special for the boy she likes to make him happy. Looking back... I'm made so soft...

2) that makes me laugh

This snippet was from a delightful piece that... if I remember correctly, you inspired me to write! Morgen takes some interesting retribution on Yami after Yami gave Nacht a bit of a harsh kick to the back (and let him fall off a roof but Yami didn't plan that).

“Give me a sec!” With that said, Yami bolted for the connected bathroom. Yami emerged a few minutes later. He saw Morgen sipping his tea in peace, utterly undisturbed. “It sounded like you were being murdered in there,” was all Morgen remarked with a blithe grin once Yami was seated. “Shut the fuck up.” The conversation resumed but Yami found that he could hardly concentrate with the churning sensation in his gut that persisted. He tried to chat through the pain, to wait for it to pass, but it didn’t. In fact, it got worse as time went on. In fact, over and over, Yami kept going to the bathroom to relieve himself. Morgen had to be a saint to put up with Yami’s situation. Sitting patiently and overhearing whatever unfortunate sounds escaped the confines of the bathroom. All with that same pleasant smile. After Yami’s seventh round with the porcelain throne, Yami collapsed on his couch. His ass was in pain, he didn’t embarrass easily but he felt the weight of shame on his shoulders, and worse yet, he ran out of toilet paper. Yami glared at Morgen. “God dammit, Morgen, what the fuck did you put in that tea?” Morgen smiled and set down his teacup before leaning back in the armchair he sat in. “Well I steeped the tea leaves for a little longer than usual to strengthen the flavor. I heard that bay leaves richen the flavor as well, in a subtle and earthy way since you’re not a fan of sweetness. There’s a dash of cinnamon for spicy sweetness. And…” Morgen touched a finger to his chin in thought. After a—clearly staged, who was Morgen kidding—moment of thought, he perked up and exclaimed, “Extra strength laxatives!” Yami didn’t need to think twice. He swept aside the set up on the coffee table then lunged at Morgen while swinging. Morgen leapt out of the way in the nick of time. “Don’t run, you little shit stain! The fuck are you drugging my tea for?!”

This characterization is a little different than what I've ultimately settled on after writing for him longer. He's more conniving and lacks the airheadedness that I attributed to him later on. But still, I still like how cool Morgen plays it and just drops the whole laxatives thing on Yami.

23) that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

My fic Firefly's Dance was inspired by Kenshi Yonezu's song "Night Bugs on a Rainy Street" specifically. Some of the imagery in the fic even draw from lines the song. The upbeat yet deeply romantic tone of the song really spoke to me and how I view Morgen and Josele's relationship.

The two of them stood there, simply taking in the view of the outside. Leaves and flower petals quivered as raindrops hit them from above. The light from indoors seeped out through the clear glass, giving a corner of the garden a gentle glow, and once in a while reflected on the falling raindrops which created a flickering, twinkling effect. A faint haze filled the air, dampening the colors of the world. It was not, however, a dull or sad muting of the world. The faded colors felt more relaxed, as if taking a respite from being so vibrant. Morgen understood how it felt. After a long day of giving his all, he would let go of whatever was left of his energy and surrender himself to exhaustion. As he gazed at the garden, he felt his hand shaking, ever so slightly. He glanced down. With their hands intertwined, he wasn’t sure if it was actually his or Josele’s that was trembling. “Josie…” “Hm…?” “Are you perhaps cold?” Josele didn’t feel any colder than usual but Morgen wanted to be sure. “I’m fine…” Smiling, Morgen gave Josele’s hand a squeeze. He supposed it didn’t matter. In fact, the ambiguity of it brought him a strange comfort. Perhaps it was even the both of them. “The rain is lovely, isn’t it?” Morgen said, taking the half-step needed to close the distance between himself and Josele.

And later in the fic when they start dancing in the rain! AKJSHFKJAHETHAILEUTHILAEUHTIUH! FERAL FOR THE IMAGERY! I'M SO IN LOVE WITH TWO BEING SO ROMANTIC!

#questions from the ask box #ask game #soda asides #marune the devil delight

[hadesfromspace]

jrwi riptide ep 94 spoilers

I've been thinking a lot about Gillion and his relation to art and this episode felt like a gut punch to me because of this line:

"I'm bad at drawing and writing and creating."

I understand the artist's imposter syndrome of "i'm bad at drawing and writing i can't do good art" but he's saying that he's bad at CREATING. And I firmly believe that he was taught that by the elders.

Because we know that Gillion does art! Canonically! It was for one episode only (i think) but in episode 17 he pulls out a water-proof scroll and starts drawing the jellyfish! That is a sign that he's drawn before, he's used to drawing under water with scrolls but he just doesn't anymore! Why?

Yknow i'm still not really sure on how Gillion's backstory works and when exactly he was taken by The Elders, but i imagine that he got into art while training under The Elders, around the same time when he still took lectures and studied. Water-proof scrolls filled with notes and doodles of leviathans and cool sea creatures, sometimes whole scrolls dedicated to just drawings. Maybe not straight-up masterpieces at around 10~12 years old, but he drew a lot and put a lot of work in them. He had a hobby that he enjoyed.

And this did not go well with The Elders. They couldn't have a Chosen One who didn't spend every waking hour of his life training, and instead wasting precious scrolls on drawing pictures. So they start critiquing him on them. Discouraging him from drawing at all, telling him to use his time on something useful like training and practicing. Soon they start telling him that he's just not cut out for it. He's made to be a warrior, not an artist. A soldier, not a poet.

He's bad at creating.

And he doesn't pick up the pen after that. He discards his scrolls, probably throws out his artworks. Every single one of them. Tears them up, shreds them to pieces. He doesn't want to be reminded of another one of his failures, he doesn't want to be reminded of something that he thought he was good at. But after he gets kicked out by them, he goes to pack his things in a hurry. And he takes the scrolls out of an old habit from around his school days, stuffs them in his bag and rushes out, not thinking about it further.

I really want to see Gillion start to embrace his artistic side more and more once time goes on. The picture book was such a big step in that direction, and I think that the two rolls on performance really felt realistic; he drew the first one and he immediately felt that it was horrible, and he rips it off. The second one was a little bit better, but he still insists that "If you don't like it we'll just burn it." when he hands the book over, because he doesn't appreciate his art anymore. He doesn't appreciate the things he does because in his head, he can't create. He's bad at creating, he's a soldier and not a poet. A warrior, not an artist.

And I want him to find that spark again, to create and do art. Shitty art, mediocre art and good art. I want to see him create more things, slowly but surely getting out of the mindset that he's not good enough to create anything. Because that's not true.

TLDR; i get emotional over fish guy having creative imposter syndrome, something something he's a poet forced to be a soldier, i am going to strange every single one of The Elders fuck you you gave a perfectly good fish anxiety

#jrwi riptide spoilers #jrwi spoilers #jrwi ep 94 #gillion tidestrider #i listened to mitski while writing this so sorry if it's a bit too dramatic #but i'm really invested in this being an artistic guy myself who also relates to gillion in a lot of ways #he is me i am him

[cthullain]

Why you probably shouldn't read Torpedo 1936 *:ꔫ:*﹤

₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧ I rant about Torpedo for an undetermined amount of time under the cut ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Cw: Discussions of sexual assault/rape/racism/homophobia etc. (I will be including images of torpedo-hitting women alongside examples of racist caricatures to illustrate my point, there will be no nudity referenced)

Okay, so to preface I have read all of Torpedo 1936, volumes 1-5 + I've read the first issue of Torpedo 1972 (which is a much worse can of worms). And I did like aspects of Torpedo, so much so that I am collecting the volumes because I really like Bernet's work. So I'm going to quickly write down what I liked and then I'm going to go onto why I personally don't recommend the series in the slightest. What I liked Surprisingly enough, there are a lot of normal and goofy moments in this comic. It's humorous, and the only reason I could make it through the entire series without ripping my hair out For silly gags, there's a running joke that Torpedo kind of messes up words and I really enjoyed that, it was cute in a kind of corny way.

In addition to that the amount of times that he gets his ass kicked is humorous. I loved the idea of a tough assassin getting his shit kicked because it doesn't make him seem overpowered + I'm a sucker for a Himbo character and slapstick humor.

(Why did he think fighting a horse would work. Is he stupid?) The art is fucking phenomenal. Jordi Bernet is an incredibly talented artist and his linework makes me want to cry tears of joy whenever I see it. Torpedo's design is simple yet the linework makes it iconic and truly emphasizes the kind of noir style that he has going for him. The writing itself also has a lot of good moments, the first issue is still one of my favorites, and there's this charming repetition gag when it comes to a lot of stories. In which one character suffers due to making a mistake and Torpedo ends up taking advantage of that only to fall into the same trap. There are a lot of good stories, Abulí is by no means a bad writer, he knows how to tell a cohesive and entertaining plot. What I disliked To put it bluntly, Torpedo has an insane problem when it comes to being horrible to everyone, but especially women. There's a level of corny 1930s sexism that I can tolerate but Torpedo completely crosses the line. If there's a woman in a comic you can almost always expect that woman to be raped or sexually assaulted in some way. At the beginning of the comic, they shied a little bit away from it, having Torpedo give up if the women struggled or just having him physically assault women, as the comic continues any kind of subtly gets thrown out of the window and we are just shown explicit rape content.

The violence and misogyny to women in this is insanely prevalent and it's one of the main reasons why I don't recommend this comic at all. It serves no purpose in the plot, and quite frankly, there's no reason for it to be there at all. Torpedo is not meant to be seen as evil, he is never condemned by the narrative for hurting these women in the long run, it just exists for shock value (and also possibly because Bernet was a porn artist ex. Cicca Bang Bang). There's a lot of content about Luca (Torpedo) having sexual and romantic relationships with older women when he's very much a child. None of this is treated as an actual issue of this child being taken advantage of by older women, and more so framed as Luca having been a "womanizer" since birth. It's gross and uncomfortable.

There is so much racism in this comic. To quite literally everybody. The comic is incredibly uncharitable to black people but it's not great to Jewish people, Puerto Ricans, Asian people, etc.

People of color are also predominantly drawn to be heavily stereotyped, a problem that is especially prevalent when looking at how black people are portrayed specifically.

This comic is just generally homophobic. I can't attest to the Spanish text as I'm not paying 15 euros to check if Torpedo uses homophobic Spanish slurs. Still, in the English translation, he very much uses homophobic slurs. I can't remember him saying the F slur, however, he does call a butch woman the d slur.

(For the record I really love this character and would've happily praised her cute design if it weren't for the fact that she takes part in a gang rape later in the story)

In the light defense of this comic, a large portion of the time Torpedo's stereotypes and negative biases against people end up being to his detriment as they usually outsmart him, there's also a large number of times where this isn't the case, and racism and sexism just happen for the sake of happening. This abundance of vitriol and sexism crosses the line of period-accurate horribleness and is the major reason why I wouldn't recommend Torpedo to anyone. Women are routinely brutalized, called bitches, raped, and throughout it all Torpedo is consistently portrayed as a cool womanizer. He is rarely ever punished by the narrative for his consistent abuse of women and the rape is so prevalent that it is a genuine detriment to the reading experience. I'd understand making things dicier if you wanted to portray a story set in an older time, however, Torpedo just has too much, all the time. It truly takes what could have been a good story and makes it something I don't think a lot of people would want to waste their time on and I don't blame anyone for that.

Closing notes

I liked Torpedo as a whole. However, I would personally never recommend this story to anyone else. Good moments are largely overshadowed by a continuous pattern of racism, sexism, and brutality towards marginalized groups. So much so that it destroyed any enjoyment I could have for the issues that they were in. If you are keen on reading the story despite all of this I can't stop you, so I'll recommend my favorite issues. The Front (Volume 4), Who is Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf (Volume 4), The Godmother (Volume 4)*, Coyote (Volume 4), First Issue in Volume 1

*The Godmother Contains Luca Torelli kicking a woman in the ass. Literally. Not as bad as other comics but it should be noted since it happens once

Anyway read the comic if you want to I'm not your mother, I just don't recommend it. I like Luca's character design so I'll probably draw him later. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#torpedo 1936 #text post #mini rant #I hate torpedo but he's also my wife. but also I hate him.

[silverhallow]

To help your muse

27-"I fucking love you."

This is set in the WWWY Universe.

And sort of uses the “to help your muse” as the theme.

Hope you enjoy it

Artists block.

There were few things Benedict hated more than when he hit a wall with his art. It made him feel like he was stuck in quicksand and unable to move, unable to focus on anything but the sinking feeling of failure.

He’d cancelled everything, he’d called Sophie and told her not to come over as he had to get this piece finished before his deadline on Monday. He’d kicked Henry out of the flat and sent him to see Phillip in Cambridge, determined that he would have no distractions whilst he finished it.

But he’d just… not done anything.

He’d stared at the blank canvas. He’d thrown out his first attempt, he had no idea why he was struggling with this. Henry had nailed his attempt in class, but Benedict had just found it uncomfortable looking at another naked woman, feeling like he was cheating on Sophie just by looking at her, had struggled.

He’d drawn something that was probably the worst attempt at art he’d ever done, it was so bad he was sure that even Anthony would have done better and so when he’d taken it home to finish, he’d thrown it out and decided to start anew but he was struggling.

And this was worth 20% of his mark for the year, failing or not completing this module would almost guarantee that he would fail the year and have to do resits which would affect his plans with Sophie and mean he wouldn’t get to graduate with Henry in the summer and would result in him not being able to go to Cambridge in the new term to do his masters… which was not an option.

So he was determined, he’d done everything he could to make sure that he wasn’t interrupted.

Henry had left rolling his eyes saying he just needed the “right inspiration” but Benedict was not really listening to him.

Benedict hadn’t even realised Henry had left as he had been staring at the blank canvas for several hours when he heard the doorbell go.

He ignored it.

It went again.

“Henry, can you get the door?!” he called out, annoyed that his roommate hadn’t answered it the first time. It went again “HENRY!” he yelled once more but there was no response.

Grumpy and annoyed he got up from his seat, ready to yell at whoever was at the door, he’d texted everyone to tell them to leave him alone, he needed to work, despite the fact he wanted to be with Sophie and spending time with her and not staring at a white canvas wondering how he was supposed to draw the female form.

The door went again, it was still a gentle ring, whoever was on the other side of the door clearly wasn’t as annoyed as he was and he was about to launch into an angry tirade as he opened the door to yell at whoever it was at the door when as the door swung open, his mouth opened to yell, he realised it was “Soph?! What are you doing here? I told you I had to work…” he said blinking in shock.

“You did, Henry got to ours a while ago and said you were struggling with your piece for this project and that you needed some proper inspiration…” Sophie said, her cheeks bright red in a way he’d rarely seen from her.

“Okay… what… I… wait what time is it?” he asked

“Nearly 9pm…” Sophie said her hands were fidgeting with her coat.

“Shit… I've got… nothing… I just… What does he mean by proper inspiration?”

“Well he told me what the piece was… a study of the female form” Sophie said “look can you let me in, it’s a bit cold out here…” she said

Benedict frowned, she had a big trench coat on but he moved and let her in, it was only fair after she’d driven all the way over here to see him, “it is but I just… I can’t use the images from class, it just… doesn’t feel right…”

“I get that… it’s why i’ve come… to help” she said coyly as she walked into his living room, and Benedict noticed that she was wearing heels, and looked at her confused

“Thanks Fee but you…” his mouth fell open as Sophie turned around and removed her coat.

Revealing her to be in nothing but a pair of heels “Holllllly fuck! Did you drive over here like that?”

Sophie giggled, feeling better now she was inside “I did… now… as long as you promise not to draw my face… how about we get your painting done like a good boy, then if you are a very good boy, then i’ll let you paint… well me” she smirked turning around and walking off to his room where she knew he’d be sitting and deliberately walked with a sashay in her hips.

Benedict let out a groan as he felt all the blood leave his brain and rush straight to his cock and he felt like the luckiest man in the world watching her bare arse disappeared into his room “I fucking love you” he said as he ran after her.

It took him 45 minutes, 45 agonising minutes with a raging and ever growing erection to get his painting done, before he was able to launch himself at her and thoroughly show his appreciation, thanking her for being an incredible girlfriend and the best muse a man could hope for.

#when we were young au #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict x sophie #Benophie drabbles #bridgerton drabbles #ash’s drabbles #ask ash

[extra-v1rgin]

hey oliveoil! Hope you're having a lovely time!

I've got a fem!reader x Kishibe request for you! I made a silly vague post a few days ago about a fic inspired by Fall Out Boy's (shut up cringe is dead) "Heaven's Gate". Tbh Kishibe being any age works just fine for me, as well as either nsfw or sfw! I want to see your take on it, if you feel like it!

Thanks in advance!

first request ever wowee!!

(also for future reference, no not all hc requests will be answered, and yes I will just be doing small hcs/imagines and not full fics)

(ok edit after writing srry this shit is kinda sad)

I imagine this taking place early-mid 80’s considering the punkish vibes we (I) want (and the actual Heaven’s Gate was in the mid 70’s so it’s thematic or whatever). Kishibe is slightly younger, but not middle aged.

(I like to imagine that this is the moment where he just started growing out the gray. Shiny gray roots with black edges.)

As mentioned earlier you’re involved in the punk scene, loud and angry and so not Kishibe’s type. You probably meet him at a bar after or before or in between watching shows and rioting. You’re a bit mouthy, maybe disrespectful (Which Kishibe does like).

At first you probably assume Kishibe is straight laced, even with the piercings and scars he can’t escape looking like a haggard businessman in the suit. He might’ve drawn your attention on purpose, waiting until your leaning in his ear and making fun of how boring he is.

(Later that night he shows you how not boring he is as he fucks you over and over until you can’t even speak.)

Somehow you end up staying. He never makes you breakfast or offers you respect and you don’t do much in return. He fucks you, you fall asleep in his bed, and usually don’t wake until Kishibe has already left for work. If you’re lucky he’ll make enough coffee for two.

And after a month or however long you want to just be fucking him for, you ask for more. You’re not naive, but you are younger than Kishibe and still holding onto the idea of love. If you beg for scraps of his attention he’ll ignore you. If you bug him, desperate for anything more than rough sex, he’ll kick you out for the night. It shouldn’t be a problem because you don’t live together, you can only share his bed a few nights a week. That doesn’t stop you from crying until you can’t see and sulking back to your car.

Finally he tells you why. Kishibe is a piece of shit bastard who is definitely going to hell. You’re the angst filled young adult he picked up in a shady bar. Your idea of rebellion is yelling in the road and chucking beer bottles at buildings. Kishibe is planning government coups.

And it’s not the difference that’s the problem, it’s the fact that Kishibe is definitely going to hell. Even if you were to die (like everyone else he’s ever known) he wouldn’t see you in whatever kind of afterlife exists.

After awhile you understand that, even if Kishibe doesn’t explain it. So you’re satisfied to keep sneaking into his bed every other night and pressing kisses softer than normal against his cheek whenever you stay up longer than him (which is rare).

Kishibe might be confident that he’s going to hell, but right now you’re both on Earth, even if it’s just for the briefest moment.

#no editing sorry #chainsaw man #csm #kishibe #kishibe x reader #peepaw #angst srry #fall out boy #fob #punk girl #gn! reader #punk boy too then lol #slight nsft #heaven’s gate

[i-am-beckyu]

BRICK! I AM SO FLIPPEN LUCKY!

I accidentally thought I deleted your ask which instead got posted and then deleted, but I got lucky and had copied the questions to answer qwq. I've been using control z too much... So thank you thank you for all the questions on Jornos and here you are! (Sorry I took so long to answer lol) @brick-a-doodle-do i can see a lot of awkward conversations between tommy and emduo + wil. like a lot of sarcastic comments towards tommy that have a secret meaning to tommy! lots of tensing up at the softest of questions

Yesssssssssssssssssssss! Many many awkward times! Tommy just a lil anxious boi :3

for the thing with tommy knowing things he shouldn't, how about a scene with tommy accidentally humming a tune he'd heard wilbur play before? maybe even accidentally murmuring the lyrics while wilbur only plays the melody! :0000 *yoinks this idea for later* Oh I likes this a lot >:3

do you have any design ideas for tommy's borrower home? is it very innovative with crazy cool designs, or something more basic that he'd thrown together with whatever he could find? I have many ideas for his home but nothing specifically made or set yet. Been thinking about that a lil bit atm lol. While I don't have any designs for Tommy's room, I have made a floor plan of the Crafts house to make sure I'm being coherent to the story and scenes so have that!

how does tommy react to the internet? does he find a means to conquer it after seeing how intimidating it is, or does he immediately fall victim to social media? maybe he finds some good ole schlatt videos and bonds over them with wilbur! Oh he's infatuated with it. He loved to try and watch Tv of Beans in the past but actually gaining access to the internet blew his mind! Learning so many new things and not understanding how some stuff was possible was insane for him! And Canon! Def bonds with Wilbur over the old vids!

does wilbur absolutely drag him into the world of music? i can see wilbur making a mini-him with his new younger brother! 100%. To Wilbur, Tommy is free blank slate brother. Time to educate the child in the world of music and properly!! (as well as everything else lol)

in a lot of fics, techno has swords n knives pinned up on his walls or leaning against his walls, do you follow through with that here? lalalala *yoinks another idea* :3

that also leads me to the question does tommy, as a borrower, find this threatening or interesting? and similarly, when he's a human, does he struggle with hiding his interest/fear of them depending on his borrower-selves reaction? Boi is both terrified and drawn to the blades. There's one sword displayed on top of the book shelf that Tommy often likes to marvel at. It's part of why Tommy tried to go for the craft knife that Techno left out on the table when he first moved in because he wanted to wield a sword like that too.

i bet tommy might have a strong reaction to flavorful things, especially something spicey, sour, or even really sweet, since borrower's grow up mainly on grain with the occasional addition of fruit or dessert. does this spark interest between emduo + wilbur or do they just bond with him and call him a child over it? I think I mentioned in a previous ask that Tommy just goes into sugar rush overload when he gets access to sugar so in a similar way, he'd have an extreme reaction to spicy, sour or bitter things too. If given any of those things tho, I'm pretty sure once comfy with the rest of sbi, would scream: ARE YOU TRYING TO POISON ME?!?!?

tommy using his skills as a human! i can see him offering to fix the craft's ripped clothing with his sewing skills orrr maybe they go hiking or smth and tommy's climbing instincts kick in and he just fucking climbs a tree like it's nothing lol Yesssssssssssss. That was one of the only things he could do at the colony and not get into trouble for it. Often he'd hide out and fix clothing for others so he loves to get his hands on stuff to mend for sbi. When they notice this, they actually get him proper sewing equipment and nice fabric for Tommy to experiment with and he goes wild with new clothes and bags. He adores it!

on the note of instincts, how are tommy's instincts? i always see borrowers listening to their instincts more than humans but still not always listening to them. does he got like really good reflexes that earn him the nickname spiderinnit? (to which he is extremely confused cause huh? maybe that leads to a movie marathon :0) Brick. How? How are you having all the amazing ideas?? *yoinks this too* He is spiderinnit damn it and they watch every spider man movie. So Tommy's instincts are a bit nuts atm. Normally his first thought when in danger is to run and get back to the walls or somewhere safe, but when he shifts he is so out of it, he kinda just shuts down because he can't just run back to the walls. Later on when he kinda works out the sizeshifting abilities, it takes a lot of will power to not let himself just run from everything and hide. But he will often react a lot to footsteps of people coming or animals because he still semi associates it with danger.

birthdays! i don't know about you or this au, but i like the idea of borrower's not really celebrating birthdays, and even if they do not every single one. so what's tommy's reaction to possibly having a party thrown for him? Sometimes Individual bdays are celebrated within small family's when borrowers see fit, say they turn 1 or 13 but yeah most of the time bdays aren't really celebrated. The celebrations are more of a celebration of surviving to an important point in life, not making it another year older in age. (that makes no sense becky. Good job :'D) Colonies will usual celebrate a borrowers coming of age for all the borrowers going on their first successful borrowing trips (of course Tommy isn't allowed at those though)

^^ on a similar note, does tommy know his own birthday? and if he doesn't, how the hell do the craft's react to that ?? He does not. He was abandoned by the colony and they kind of just guessed he was like 2ish when found so they make his bday just sometime in April because that was the time he was found. Tommy doesn't even really think about not having a specific day till he's asked and the Crafts are just so shocked that this kid has probably never had a party in his life and literally throw him a party within the next few days. Tommy is just so touched that he decides the date is April 9th because that was the date. (Even if it was actually *enter different month here*)

I have no idea what else you said about the ask but at least I had the questions so thank you for sending them in and your continued interest in the story! Jornos chapter 2 is almost done and then just needs to be proof read so keep your eyes peeled :3

#brick my beloved <3 #beckyu answers #I had a heart attack when I thought I’d lost access to the questions qwq #just out of reach but never out of sight au #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt

[clay-cuttlefish]

Okay I've had a bit to recover from the 52 Emotions. Moving through Final Crisis, 70 appearances left to go til Flashpoint.

Justice League of America 2006 #1

Not actually an appearance, but someone impersonates Vic in a flirty note to Vixen and it's very funny to me that a) he's a known pain in the ass among Leaguers and b) she's down for it.

Countdown #40-38

Renee's here! It's not great, she's only here for a couple pages, but she and Kate are kicking ass together, she's funny, she looks good, and Kate calls her Question for the first time.

Crime Bible: Five Lessons of Blood #1

After all this time, Renee gets a solo of her own, and it's SO good.

She's so cool! Relentless, inquisitive, always in motion... it's not that she wasn't great in 52, she was, but she really flourishes when she's in her own space.

#2

😳

I have thoughts about how much Renee's grown but um. Women.

#3

Renee finally gets to reflect on her time at the GCPD, which is interesting. She still has some respect for Maggie and Gordon, but Bullock is dead to her.

Divorce! This is a really good divorce moment. Back in 52, she pushed Kate away for the exact same reasons - old habits die hard.

#4

Tot continues to be my fave despite not doing much. He's perpetually hanging out and begrudgingly helping.

"We're not friends." Two pages later handing her a hat he made in case she gets cold.

Myra...

The newscast says Myra was "elected for a third consecutive term last fall", which I think means she's been mayor for nine years unless some American mayoral terms last different lengths? I'd have guessed it had been longer, but it's not an unreasonably short timeline.

I'm so glad Renee goes back to Hub City. The Question isn't a mantle that carries a lot of recognition, but it does have a history beyond what it meant to Vic and Tot, and I'm glad there's this closure.

Izzy's more Gordon-y than the last time we saw him, but hey it's been almost a decade and it's good for the parallels.

#5

It's important to me that she's funny. She's learned how to go with the flow and take things in stride, and that means saying dumb shit even when she's actively in danger.

This fight is drawn so well. The dialogue wouldn't land nearly as well if it wasn't for the pacing.

This all works so well to flesh out who Renee was, who she is now, and where she might be going.

The Montoya Journal

Not a comic, but some supplementary pieces, because the secret code in the scriptures was too subtle and the way to get people to notice it was to send out secret journals with props. Pictures of the contents are included with commentary in the back of the trade.

Here's a link to some archived posts about the contents, if you don't have a copy, including a link to the song.

The fake band has a MySpace page and an actual song you can listen to. There are designs for in-universe newspapers and messaging apps. The physical journals came with bullet casings. The commitment here is ridiculous.

Only sixteen journals were ever made and I want one so badly.

Final Crisis #1

More events. I'm getting sick of events.

Something something Darkseid. I don't know what's going on with most of these characters and I don't really care.

#3

Getting arrested by... I think these guys are like Checkmate?

Final Crisis: Revelations #1

This is the part of Final Crisis that's relevant to Renee.

Crispus has been having the worst time since we last saw him.

#2

What if your dead best friend turned into the personification of God's wrath and tried to murder you about it after you'd spent years dealing with your Catholic guilt over being a lesbian. Would that be fucked up or what.

#3

The DC universe has some truly wild theological problems.

Is this blasphemous? Should I like. Put some kind of content warning on this?

I don't know if this is that good but it's very dramatic.

#4

Renee kicks Cain in the face.

The Radiant talks theology and the problem of free will and prophecy.

It's a Lot.

#5

Renee hits the combined might of Darkseid and Vandal Savage with a "I know you are but what am I?" and it works so well it allows her to restore Crispus' faith in God. I love comics.

Final Crisis #3-7

I've decided I don't actually care enough to do these individually. Renee gets recruited by Checkmate because she's so good at both cop stuff and superhero stuff that she should lead the charge into another universe. Cool? Good for her?

Captain Marvel tells her not to swear and she says no.

Wow that sure was a Crisis. Anyways.

#clayposts #clayreads #the question #renee montoya

[impunkster-syndrome]

I don't think I was the anon worried about having a harmful para but maybe I was (amnesia issues) but uhhh I am also myself worried about it. For ages I've thought it's possible I'm a necorphile. I have pedo OCD where in I'm terrified I'm secretly a pedo but... I'm able to fully differntiate that from actual reality. I know I'm not one. But when it comes to necro stuff I think it's different. It is very deeply and intimately tied to my trauma. I feel disgusted with myself almost always and I know some alters when I was younger and had mroe amnesia of my childhood fell down a rabbit hole of some really fucked up drawn art by proshipper types that was just.... something that in our case made thing worse for us because a) we were triggering ourselves and b) it was making the thoughts worse and making us spiral.

I just idk where to turn. We keep being too scared to tell much to our therapist. She knows about the trauma but she seems to think it's just our OCD because of how we have discussed "being scared we secretly liked our abuse" when what we mean is we're scared because we find the concept hot. The abuse is pain and gross but it also is sexual but gross and Idk how to explain it.

If this is too much you can ignore/delete this.

It's normal to have all these feelings, especially those that are complex around abuse. OCD may be a factor in that for you as well, but I personally do not have OCD.

My abuse gave me a CNC (consensual nonconsent) kink that isn't entirely sexual in itself. I completely get that feeling of "What if I enjoyed it," but I reframe it as "Even if I did, it still has traumatized and hurt me, and I want to heal." That CNC kink kicked in after my first relationship that was abusive and it included a bunch of times my ex violated my boundaries and potentially sexually assaulted me, so it makes me scared that the abuse from that ex is somehow less abusive because of what it gave me.

If it helps, one thing you can do is ask your therapist questions about how she thinks treatments for paraphilia-OCD in general and paraphilias should be. I did the same with my therapist, since I felt like this was the thing he might finally hospitalize me for. I was really scared both of telling someone and of recovery, because of the fact that people expect me to be able to get rid of my paraphilias in therapy, but they are also so entrentched with who I am that I would not be the same without them. So, these kinds of questions helped me gauge how safe I was with him and his treatment expectations.

For the art thing, I understand that. My recovery requires avoidance of incest media, because it does trigger me and cause a drop after, even if it felt good for a bit or in that moment. I do think that consumption of media that romanticizes your paraphilia can cause it to develop more and it's like giving your brain treats for those thoughts. It doesn't impact everyone the same way, that's just the conclusion I have come to because of my experience. I do have moments where the drive to interact with it is too much and I end up doing so through fiction, but the shame and triggering gets me shortly after.

I do hope that your therapist understands with the full situation known and is a good fit for you. If not, may you find what you need.

#the blackbox askbox #fluffy para

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Chris Evans x virgin!reader

This isn't a series (yet), just the first one shot from the same mini verse. You don't need to read part 2, but you can!

>Part 2>

Warnings: 18+ readers, smut, swearing, oral (f-receiving), fingering, breast play?, loss of virginity, protected!sex, m/f, age gap but not specified (reader of age)

Chris was in love with you. As he sat watching you talk to his mother and his family throughout the night, smiling and laughing, having light debates and being your general wonderful self, Chris realised, even though your relationship with Chris was farly new, he loved you.

You'd only lived in Boston about a year or so, and as a way to make friends after a couple of months, your neighbours invited you to a BBQ. That's where you met Chris' brother, Scott. Over the following months your friendship grew and before you knew it, Scott had convinced you to let him set you up on a date with his brother. It was definitely a shock when you walked into the coffee shop and realised who exactly Scott's brother, and your date was.

"Would you like to come in?" You whispered against Chris' lips as the two of you stood at your front door later that night.

Chris pulled back from you with a lazy smile, brushing his fingers against your forehead, moving your hair. "It's getting late, sweetheart."

You nodded, "I know, but, I thought you could, maybe, spend the night." You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I, I've been thinking... That, I... I'm ready." You whispered, your fingers stroking over Chris' chest.

Chris' eyes widen at first in surprise before he broke out into a softer smile. "You serious, baby girl? I don't want you doing this for me."

You shook your head, "No, I know, but... Tonight, meeting your family and seeing the way you kept, smiling at me," You blushed, smiling bashfully at him as Chris also blushed. He hadn't thought you'd noticed him. "It made me realise that, I... Want to share this, first, with you, and no one else... I, love you, Chris."

Chris' heart filled with so much love and his eyes watered as he broke out into a giant grin. He reached up and cupped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a loving kiss, pressing you against your front door. He pulled back with a satisfied hum, making you giggle at him. "I love you too." He whispered.

You nodded, reaching up to brush his small tears away. "Will you come in?"

Chris nodded, "Of course, baby." He leaned in to give you one final kiss before allowing you to open the door.

You stepped inside, only for to Chris quickly bend down and pick you up bridal style, kicking the door shut.

"A bit of warning would have been nice." You playfully scolded Chris, giggling as he carried you.

"I'm being romantic." He chuckled. He carried you into your bedroom and gently placed you back on your feet. He carefully reached up and held your face between his large hands as he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a loving kiss. He pulled back with a smile, "We can go as slow or as fast as you like, baby. Okay?"

You nodded with a smile, "Okay."

With one more kiss, together you began to undress. Every other piece of clothing you'd share a kiss or press one to a newly exposed piece of skin. Your fingertips trailed across Chris' chest and over his shoulders as Chris ran his hands over your waist and up your back. With ease, Chris unclipped your bra, letting your breasts fall free.

Your head fell back as Chris cupped each of your breasts, leaning down and kissing your neck in the right spot, making you moan.

"You're so beautiful, baby." He let out a breathy moan against your neck. He moved his head and flicked his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"Oh," Your mouth fell open as you threaded your fingers through his hair. "Chris,"

He stood up straight with a smile. "Can I taste you, baby?"

"Always." You grinned up at him excitedly.

You may be a virgin, but you weren't a prude. You and Chris had shared quite a few intermet moments with each other. You'd had the pleasure of not only having Chris' mouth bringing you pleasure, but you'd also brought him pleasure with yours.

Chris carefully laid you down on your bed before pulling your already damp panties off, throwing them over his shoulder with a smirk. "So, beautiful." He pushed your knees apart and leaned in, running his tongue up the length of your slit.

Chris slowly licked and sucked your core, moaning against you as he enjoyed his most favorite meal, his large ehamds kneading your thighs. Your eyes rolled back and your fingers tugged at Chris' hair. His tongue swirled around your clit before dipping inside your dripping slit, tongue fucking you as his fingers dug into the round of your ass cheeks.

A deep, drawn out moan left your mouth as Chris sucked your clit between his pink lips as he inserted two of his thick fingers.

"Fuck, baby," Chris moaned against you, "I love your pussy."

"Chris, I-" Your back arched as you pushed Chris' face closer to you. Your eyes rolled back as Chris fingered you and sucked your clit hard. "Yes!" You cried out, cuming hard around Chris' fingers.

Chris drank everything up, loving your sweet taste. You let out a soft whimper as Chris withdrew his fingers. "Good girl," He smiled breathlessly as he took in your post-orgasmic state. "How you feel, baby?"

You hummed, stretching your arms up and ran your fingers through your hair, grinning to yourself. "Wonderful." You let out a small giggle.

Chris grinned down at you. "Want to carry on, sweetheart? We don't hav-"

"Please!" You pushed yourself up, sliding your hand over his shoulder and up the back of his neck. "I need you." You whispered.

Chris smiled lovingly before pressing his lips against yours. "You've got me." He whispered then crashed his lips against yours. It was all tongue and teeth as he laid you back down, his large hands holding you.

Your gaze burned into Chris' skin as you watched him rid himself of his boxers before moving over to your bedside table to grab the condoms you bought in preparation. Your mouth watered at the sight of him handling himself.

"You're drooling, doll." Chris smirked as he settled between your legs.

You shut your mouth quickly and looked away, feeling your face begin to blush.

Chris pinched your chin and raised your head so you'd look at him. "Ready, baby?" He whispered, lightly kissing the corner of your lips.

You nodded, "Ready." You panted.

Chris pressed his lips firmly against yours before slipping his tongue between your lips. As he devoured your mouth, trailing his finger tips down your neck and down the front of your chest teasingly slow, he used his other hand to guide his hard cock between your lower lips.

"Shh," Chris whispered as the head of his cock pushing inside you. You let out a startled gasp. He could feel your whole body tense. "I need ya' to relax, baby." He whispered and slowly trailed his lips across your cheek and below your ear.

Chris knew where to kiss to make your body tingle. He ran his tongue up the length of your neck before he lightly bit and sucked, leaving marks across your skin. He smirked victoriously as you moaned, relaxing under him and arched your back, allowing to sink further inside your wet core.

Chris held you close, all the time kissing and whispering praises in your ear. Slowly, you felt the pain subside and the pleasure build deep inside you. You both let out a deep, pleasured moans as he settled himself fully inside you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking tight." Chris pressed his face against the side of your face. "Tell me when you're ready, baby."

You nodded taking a deep breath. "Okay..." You let out a soft sigh, squeezing your arms around Chris' body. "You can move." You whispered, pressing your lips against the side of Chris' face. "Please,"

As Chris began to pull his thick cock out of your warmth, you squeezed your thighs around his waist and dug your nails into skin, you could feel every inch of him. Chris soothed you with praises, pressing his plump lips against your temple as your moans got a little breathier.

"Fuck, baby," He panted, "Feel s'good..."

"M-more... Please, Chris," You moaned quietly.

"What?" He pushed himself up so he could see your pretty face. He watched your mouth fall open as he pushed a little harder, "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

You moaned, lifting your hips to meet Chris'. "More, please."

Chris pushed himself up so he was hovering above you, spreading his knees so he pushed your legs closer to your chest before slowly picking up the pace.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your hands wrapping around Chris' wrists as he began to fuck you.

"Open your eyes." Chris spoke firmly. Your eyes shot open and met his lust blown gaze. "Good girl." He smirked. The new dynamic caused your pussy to clench around Chris' cock. "Oh... Fuck, you like that, hmm?" He pushed a little harder.

You nodded biting your bottom lip.

Chris' eyes fell to your chest as your tits bounced with his harsh thrusts. He licked his lips and looked back up as your mouth fell open and let out a strangled gasp. Your walls tightened around him again.

"God damn!" Chris barked. His breath caught in his throat as you ran a hand down his side and over his hip until you let it rest on his ass cheek. "Feel good, baby?"

"Yes..." You slipped your other hand behind his hand and pulled him down into a passionate kiss that was all tongue and teeth.

Chris blindly slipped a hand between your bodies and pressed his thumb against your throbbing clit. Your nails dug into his skin as you pulled back and cried out pleasure. Your walls clamping around his cock as you came. Chris' face contorted in pleasure as he delivered a couple more harsher thrusts, working you through your orgasm before he came.

You weren't sure how long the two of you laid tangled in your sheets. You didn't care. You were happy, and content on just being there with Chris.

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader smut #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans smut #Chris Evans x virgin!reader #bearded chris evans #chris evans #chris evans x reader smut

[amatchinwater]

160: “ Do you think you can teach me that? ” Stiles/Jordan

Thank for a few things! For one, being patient with me. Secondly for being okay with me swapping Jordan out for Jackson (I even tried again and it still didn't work), and thirdly for giving me a prompt in the first place!

I hope you enjoy some Stackson!! I've been recovering from covid and needed some fluff, hope that's okay!!

---

With all the research Stiles did about werewolves after Scott got bit, one would think that after getting the bite from Derek, he'd have the easiest time acclimating. That learning control and all other wolfy attributes would be a piece of cake. Like riding a bike for the first time again in years. Muscle memory.

But no.

So far, the only thing that's come naturally to Stiles is how drawn he feels towards Jackson of all people. Which he understands; now. He didn't at first and the new wolf got to have a wonderfully embarrassing conversation with Peter about it. The older Hale took pity after several minutes of pouting. Okay, he might’ve whined too.

He absolutely did.

But it worked.

That night Stiles found out a few things. Mates are indeed a real thing. Stiles absolutely has one. And it's Jackson. His childhood bully. The ex-kanima that tried to kill him more than once. Granted, now that Jackson has healed from his past and has a stable pack, he's a pretty great guy. Still a hot head and a bit of a dick, but a friendlier one. And Stiles has never once denied the jock is painfully attractive either.

There's worse people in the world he could've been mated to.

He does find himself wishing he had the blonde's level of control though. It's been three months since he got the bite and Stiles still needs to be chained up on the full moon. Derek, being the dutiful Alpha, stays back with him while the rest of the pack goes and hunts. He's yet to find his anchor unlike every other pack member and it sucks.

Scott uses his mate Allison as his anchor, which is great for him. Stiles has no idea though if Jackson even knows if they're mates. So he's not going to bring it up or use the other wolf, thinking it'd be weird. He's determined to take a page out of Boyd’s book and be his own anchor.

It's not working.

Not even today as the pack is sparring. Stiles got kicked to the sidelines because he can't keep his claws and fangs out of the equation. On a normal day, that wouldn't matter. When Zen Master Derek wants them to focus on their control, it kind of does. At least he gets to watch Jackson's muscles move as he fights. That counts for something, right?

The blonde punches Isaac square in the nose and the other wolf snarls, flicking out his claws and taking a swipe at Jackson's chest.

"Whoa," the former kanima jumps back, narrowly missing the attack. Isaac stops and takes a step back, claws retracting and Derek does nothing. "What the fuck, Derek? So your precious first Beta can use his claws, yet Stiles' only pops out and he gets benched? What kind of bullshit is that?" Jackson's chest is heaving, eyes glowing blue as he growls through Stiles' defense. Jackson himself might not know they’re mates, but his wolf certainly does given the outburst.

Their Alpha rolls his eyes where he stands to the side with Peter. "Isaac didn't need both me and you to subdue him." Derek crosses his arms, looking at Jackson fighting his Beta shift. "Do you need to sit out too?"

Stiles watches in awe as Jackson looks his way before closing his eyes. With a steady breath, his claws go away and when he opens his eyes, they’re their beautiful icy, human blue once more. “No,” the other Beta says, still watching Stiles, “I’m fine.”

“Wow,” the newest wolf stares, “do you think you can teach me that?” Stiles has asked everyone else and even Deaton for help. Maybe it’s time to ask Jackson.

“Teach you what?” Jackson pinches his brows in adorable confusion. “H-how to calm down?” He walks over to where Stiles is sitting in the lawn chair, ignoring the hushed conversations of the pack.

Stiles nods, “uh, yeah. I’d like to not be held down on full moons anymore.” The wolf picks at his nails, “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He also doesn’t worry for a second about being this vulnerable in front of the other wolf. Feeling nothing but comfort from someone who a few short months ago certainly would’ve ridiculed him for this. Even an unsolidified mate bond has a positive effect.

But now Jackson’s face softens and he squats to be eye level, something the other boy would find condescending from literally anyone else. Stiles can only find appreciation. “You still haven’t found your anchor?” The blonde puts a hand on the other boy’s bouncing knee, he hadn’t realized he’d been doing it until Jackson’s action ceased it. “That’s how I do it, I use my anchor.”

“Well, what’s yours? I tried anger like Derek and Peter but that only makes it worse.” Stiles curls his shoulders in, looking at his lap, “my mom doesn’t work quite like Isaac’s dad does either.” He tries his best to stifle a whimper at the very thought. His wolf wants to reach out for the other boy for consolation, but he stops himself.

The jock’s free hand cups Stiles’ chin, lifting his gaze to ensure eye contact. “You,” Jackson says, sliding his hand to the other boy’s cheek. “You’re my anchor, Stiles.” He further explains, “you’re my anchor because you’re my mate.”

“You know?” Amber eyes widen in shock before he huffs, “why does no one tell me that they know these things too? I’ve wanted to say something for weeks but didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I didn’t know how you’d feel about it being me,” Jackson shrugs. “It seemed better to let you figure it out on your own and come to me when you were ready.” The blonde eyes him warily for a moment and suddenly Stiles is scooped up in his arms. Jackson takes his seat in the lawn chair, settling the other wolf in his lap. “Next time you feel yourself losing control, think about me. See if it helps. And if you’re okay with it, I’d love to actually be mated to you, Stiles.”

The wolf in his chest curls up in a contented ball, damn near purring being so close to Jackson. Breathing in his scent and nuzzling his nose in the other boy’s neck on instinct. Stiles can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. His pack has ensured that not once has he felt touch starved, but holy hell, finally getting to be in contact like this with his mate is one of the best feelings ever.

“Fucking finally,” Isaac quips across the yard at the pair snuggled on the chair.

Jackson chuckles before popping off an amused, “shut up,” and kissing the top of Stiles’ head.

The other wolf can’t find it in himself to say anything. Too pleased and content to be exactly where he is. Something deep down telling him that his scent is doing more than a good enough job explaining just how happy and okay with the situation he is.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #jackson whitemore #stackson #jackson x stiles #stiles x jackson #thank you for asking #Match Writes