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#when it is so clear sometimes that people just want to stick to their old friends and their existing circles

rageserenity · 1 month

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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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munsons-maiden · 10 months

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𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Here's a little oneshot for you, lovelies! I hope you enjoy 🖤

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader (no physical descriptions, though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Based on this request: could i request maybe eddie brings reader to a deal but wants her to stay in the van so she’s safe but the people he’s dealing to see her because she walked out to tell eddie something and it doesn’t go so well. and after the situation eddie and her argue but eddie’s upset and just what’s to protect her 🥺 but ofc it ends well🫡

- I hope you like it, dear!🖤

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | fights turning into love confessions, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | angst with a happy ending, attempted (sexual) assault

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝🖤

You can barely make out your surroundings, the little dirt path leading you deeper into the woods, in the darkness between the trees as you slowly draw closer – the moon and stars have vanished behind the clouds as if they’ve gone into hiding, and the taste of a summer storm already laces the stuffy air.

In all these years of being Eddie Munson’s friend, there’s been one simple rule when it comes to him meeting his customers for a drug deal:

Stay in the car.

The customers are harmless. It’s the cops I’m worried about, he tells you, expression stern, whenever you crack a joke about him being scared you could scare away a customer.

It’s tiny little Hawkins, and the deals gone wrong that sometimes make it into the TV news or newspaper headlines are over coke and heroin and all the hard stuff Eddie would never sell, not over something as harmless as weed or the occasional pill of ketamine.

Tonight has been no different.

It was supposed to be a quick deal on your way to the Carnival two towns over at Sycamore where you’re supposed to meet the rest of Hellfire.

Some new customer sent by Reefer Rick.

But the longer you’ve been sitting in Eddie’s van, in the dark, in the middle of the lonely road that cuts through the woods surrounding Hawkins…this nagging feeling started to grow in your chest. First into worry, then into outright panic when you’d watched the clock on the old van’s display tick, one minute turning into five, and five into ten.

What if something went wrong?

What if something horrible happened to him?

What if Eddie needs your help?

You wanted to tell him, tonight at the fair, beneath the see of glittering lights of the Ferris wheel. That you’re in love with him. That you’ve been, for a very long time. That even if he doesn’t feel the same, you need to say it out loud, how you first fell for all the tiny little pieces that make him Eddie and then wholly and utterly and completely.

When ten minutes bled into fifteen, and your mind had come up with the most horrid scenarios fueled by news coverage of drug deals breaking into violence, conjuring up gruesome images of Eddie bleeding out between the ferns and brambles covering the forest floor, blood soaking the moss, you couldn’t stay cooped up in the confines of his old van a second longer.

You broke Eddie’s one rule. You left the car and went looking for him.

As you’re now traipsing along the small dirt path cutting through the brambles and ferns, the fabric of your summer dress you’ve spent an entire weekend picking out at the mall just so Eddie might finally start seeing you as something else as his friend, sticking to your sweaty skin and thorns scratching at your legs, you realize that even if Eddie needs your help…how the fuck would you even be able to help him?

It’s not like you’re carrying a gun in the little bag you’re clutching at your side.

The sound of voices startles you out of your thoughts, and in the dark, your eyes lock on the two silhouettes in the little clearing ahead of you.

You recognize Eddie first – you’d recognize him everywhere.

He’s standing with his back to you. Even with the remaining distance between the two of you, the darkness of the woods, you can tell that his shoulders are tense.

His whole body is holding a kind of tension you’ve only ever seen on him once before, a few years ago, when his deadbeat father had shown up at the trailer park drunken and shouting curses into the wind before Eddie had dragged you into the safety Wayne’s trailer.

A twig snaps beneath your sneakers, and both Eddie and his customer whirl around to you.

And you realize you’ve made a huge mistake.

The guy in front of Eddie is no nervous classmate, not one of the chill stoner guys always hanging around beneath the bleachers. No friendly family dad or stressed housewife looking for a little relaxation or piece of rebellion.

The guy’s buzzcut does nothing to soften the harsh angles of his face, the lines around his mouth formed by the frown that seems to be engraved there.

There’s something menacing in his eyes as they lock on you.

Something evil and predatory.

The guy licks his lips, and his mouth curls into a lewd smirk, a twisted mirror to the abysmal panic in Eddie’s wide eyes as he stares at you.

You can read them like the pages of an open book.

What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the car!

The guy slaps a meaty hand on Eddie’s shoulder, hard enough to make Eddie sway a little on his feet with the impact. And contrary to what the jocks at Hawkins High believe, Eddie is strong.

“And at first I thought you’d brought the cops,” the guy laughs – but it’s not a friendly laugh. It doesn’t reach his eyes, either. He’s got muscles. A lot of them, flexing beneath his skin as he lets his arm sink from Eddie’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t do that to your old friend though, would you? Instead, you brought me a present.”

There’s an eagle tattooed across the guy’s throat, wings spread wide. It’s fitting, this bird of prey marking him. You feel like a tiny little robin beneath his gaze.

Eddie’s eyes haven’t left you for a single second.

“I told you to stay in the car.” His voice is strained with barely suppressed fury and, above all else…panic.

“Nah, we’re good,” the guy grins, letting his eyes roam over you.

Making you wish you were wearing something other than a short little summer dress.

“Come on closer, little birdie,” he drawls, “Don’t be shy now.”

“Go back to the car,” Eddie says, louder, the vehemence of his tone flashing in his panicked eyes. His voice is trembling. “Now.”

“What, you don’t want to introduce us?” The man drawls. The threat in his own voice is as clear and tangible as the panic in Eddie’s umber eyes as he shakes his head, the movement subtle, barely visible. Go, he mouths. Now.

At the guy, he adds, “I thought we were here to talk about business.”

“You want me to focus on business when you brought your pretty girl with you, boy?” The guy makes a beckoning motion at you, still frozen like a deer in the headlights, rooted to your spot only feet away from him and Eddie. “Come closer, doll. Don’t be shy now.”

“No,” Eddie interjects, fervor smoothing his voice as it cuts through the rain-laced air of the clearing, despair flashing out beneath the panic, “She’s not part of this.”

You’re scared out of your mind.

But hell will freeze over before you leave Eddie alone with this man.

So you do what the guy told you.

You step closer, coming to stand beside Eddie.

“Tell you what, boy,” the man purrs, tearing his eyes off of you to meet Eddie’s, a flash of yellowed teeth in diffuse moonlight, as his smirk grows into a grin so devilish you wouldn’t have been surprised had they been pointed, “I’m gonna give you a few more bucks and you’re gonna give me a few minutes with your lovely lady here.”

Beside you, Eddie inches closer to you, shifting to place himself between the guy and you.

Trying to shield you with his own body, you realize.

Eddie Munson, who always swore he was no hero outside of D&D, is becoming your hero right now.

“I’ll give you everything I got with me right now, and you leave,” Eddie counters, voice hard.

A desperate attempt to get you out of this situation.

Almost completely hidden from the guy’s field of vision with Eddie having placed himself in front of you, his muscles taut and ready to fight, your hands slowly dive into the bag slung over your shoulder, fingertips carefully feeling for something, anything, to use to protect him, to protect both of you –

“Or,” the man drawls, taking a step closer, with the ease of a predator rounding in on a wounded fawn, “I’ll just take whatever you got and have some fun with your pretty lady.”

It happens too fast to see it coming.

There’s a snapping sound as the flick-knife the guy must have been holding, concealed in his meaty fist and the dark of night, is flipped open, the jagged blade flashing in the obscure beams of moonlight filtering through the clouds and the foliage of trees above your heads – and Eddie pushes you farther behind him.

Placing yourself between you and the knife’s path as he snaps, voice vibrating, “Stay the fuck away from her.”

The man lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. “And what are you gonna do, hm?”

There. Your fingers wrap around something smooth and cool nestled at the bottom of your bag.

And not a second too soon.

Before the guy can let the knife in his fist soar down to hurt Eddie, you duck around your friend, your own hand flying up as you press your index finger down in the spray bottle in your sweaty grip, sending a blast of hair spray straight into the guy’s face.

He screams, hands flying up to cover his eyes as he stumbles backwards, and the flick-knife lands between the ferns.

Eddie doesn’t waste a single second.

His hand finding yours, he pulls you away from the screaming, staggering man and pushes you towards the path that leads back to the road and the van and safety. Together, you break into a run.

You don’t notice the thorns of the brambles cutting your legs, the burn of your lungs, your muscles, because it all fades to white noise beneath the roaring of blood in your ears, the wild pounding of your heart, Eddie’s own racing steps behind you.

Only at the edges of your panic-addled mind you realize that he’s staying behind you to make sure you’ll get away, first.

The van comes up in the distance, a flash of white among the leaves and branches, and you feel the first tender burst of relief wash through you at the sight.

Eddie rips the driver’s side door open, all but shoving you inside and onto the passenger seat as he climbs in after you, and the old engine comes to life with a sputtering roar. The van jerks forwards with screeching tires as your hands shoot out to grab the door’s handle to avoid toppling over into the footwell.

As the vehicle bolts down the country road leading out of the woods, silence descends upon you, heavy and loud even beneath the roar of the engine, your own panting breaths slowly calming.

You cast Eddie a careful sideways glance.

He doesn’t look at you.

His eyes are glued to the road the way his foot is glued to the gas pedal, jaw set, and his knuckles clamped around the wheel are white.

You’ve never seen him so angry in all the time you’ve known him.

You’ve never felt so angry in all the time you’ve known him, either.

When the van emerges from the woods and lights of the carnival come into sight, the twinkling form of the Ferris wheel rising over the rolling fields of wheat covering the landscape, Eddie steers the vehicle to the side of the road.

By the time he cuts off the engine and pushes the driver’s door open with a force that makes you fear it’ll just rip off its hinges, he still hasn’t uttered a single word.

You reach for the latch in your own door, but before you can open it, Eddie has already rounded the hood, and the door is ripped open to reveal his face, unreadable and void of all the usual humor and goofiness.

“Are you okay?” It sounds strangely hollow, the way he says it.

“Eddie –“

“Are you okay?” It’s nearly a shout, but not an angry one. Only scared. So fucking scared that it makes his voice shake as much as his hands coming up to rake through his curls while his dark eyes roam over you in the diffuse moonlight over the field, the dim glow of the lights inside the van, scanning the tiny cuts decorating your face and arms and legs where the brambles and branches of the woods have left their marks during your flight.

You give a tentative nod.

The breath he seems to have been holding leaves in a sharp exhale as he rakes his hand through his dark curls once more, sending stray leaves falling out as he starts pacing at the edge of the road.

You climb out of the car.

And the storm that’s been building the past few minutes breaks lose – not in the sky, but down beneath it.

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE FUCKING CAR!”

Eddie has never shouted at you.

You’ve never shouted at him, either, but it breaks out of you like a flood-wave.

“ME?! THIS IS MY FAULT?!”

“YES! FUCKING HELL YES IT IS! SHIT. IF YOU HAD, JUST FOR ONCE, LISTENED –“

“ME?! I’M NOT THE ONE MEETING FUCKING KILLERS IN THE WOODS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!”

“THAT’S WHY I TOLD YOU TO STAY –“

“IF I’D STAYED IN THE CAR, YOU’D BE DEAD ON THE FOREST FLOOR NOW!” The thought of it, of Eddie, bleeding out between the ferns, scared and alone and in pain, makes the tears spill over and your voice shatter as you choke out the rest of the sentence in a miserable little whisper. “You’d be fucking dead!” Saying it aloud brings back the fury at him for being so fucking careless. “HE WAS ABOUT TO HURT YOU!”

“AND THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN WAY BETTER THAN IF HE’D HURT YOU! I CAN’T LOSE YOU, I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”

Eddie’s words shut you up.

They ring through the night, mingle with the soft summer breeze that ruffles the stalks of wheat in the nearby field, the rustling too loud in the shellshocked silence.

The tears which have been glittering in his dark eyes have started running down his pale cheeks.

For a few wild heartbeats, you just stare at each other in the moonlight piercing through the passing clouds, the glow of colorful lights of the fair at the edge of the field sending flares into the night, the stuffy summer night’s air pressing down on the two of you.

In a few quick strides, both of you cross the small distance between the two of you, meeting in the middle.

And then, you’re kissing.

And the world stills, heartbeat accelerating as panic and adrenaline bleed into something entirely else, something that’s been trapped within you for so long it takes a second to realize this, right now, is truly happening.

Eddie’s lips, soft and hot against yours, his palms cradling your face, the metal of his rings warm with the heat of his body as they press gently against your skin.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

He kisses you like he really, truly means it.

Because I fucking love you.

It’s better, so much better than even your wildest daydreams.

You know you’ll never want to kiss anyone else after this.

You know you don’t ever want this kiss to end.

It does, eventually. Eddie pulls away, wide-eyed and panting, lips slightly apart in a gape and curls in a tangled mess – from his own hands raking through it or yours right now, you can’t tell. Even in the half-dark of the night, you can see the blush dusting his cheeks.

“I – I’m sorry,” he breathes, the kiss-dazed gleam in his eyes making room for an appalled expression. “God, fuck, I’m – I didn’t think. I didn’t even ask –“

“I’ve been waiting for you to do this for a very long time,” you say quietly, giving him a soft smile.

For a moment, Eddie just stares at you, as if he’s contemplating whether his mind is playing tricks on him. “You, uh. You did?”

“Yeah,” you whisper into the few inches of between the two of you. “And now I’ll be waiting for you to do it again.”

He does. Not a single beat of hesitation.

This time, when Eddie’s lips meet yours, it’s softer, slower, yet just as intoxicating and feverish as that first kiss.

His hands snake up to cup your cheeks and angle your head as he slowly walks you backwards, until your back meets the side of the van, the metal still warm from the day and the sweltering night air, and butterflies flood your belly, your entire body, a colorful swarm of them making your skin tingle in all the places his body brushes against yours. His chest against yours, one of his knees between yours, his calloused fingertips gently trailing down the column of your throat.

Kissing Eddie Munson is as easy as breathing.

“I meant it,” he breathes into the kiss, before resting his forehead against yours, the curls of his bangs tickling you, “What I said. I’m so fucking sorry I dragged you into this mess. I’m so fucking sorry I put you in danger.” He swallows. “And I’m so fucking much in love with you.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling his smile. “I’ve been loving you for a very long time, Eddie.”

You place your hands over his, still holding your face.

“I was so fucking scared,” Eddie murmurs, voice trembling again with new tears. “Fuck. I was so stupid –“

“We’re okay,” you whisper, fingers squeezing his, “We’re safe. You saved me.”

“Shit, you saved me. What even was that? Pepper spray?”

You chuckle. “Farah Fawcett hair spray.”

Eddie blinks, before he gives a breathless little laugh, as if he’s not sure he’d rather laugh or cry. Probably both. “Pretty fucking metal.”

“I wanted to look pretty for you tonight,” you amend, and Eddie’s expression grows serious again.

“You always look pretty, sweetheart. I’ve been having a pretty hard time not ogling you every second we’re together.”

“You need to promise me you’ll never ever meet clients in the middle of the woods. Not at night. Not by day either. And –“

“I promise,” Eddie interrupts, voice sincere. “I’m gonna stick to the clients I know. No expanding the business.”

“Good,” you breathe, letting your hands fall away from his to lock them at the nape of his neck, fingertips playing with his dark curls.

“Your hair is really soft,” you breathe, lips not an inch from his, feeling stupid all of a sudden for saying it out loud, but Eddie replies with an adorable little giggle that makes your heart soar and race and squeeze with love all at the same time.

“Thanks. It’s…uh. Don’t laugh. It’s Farah Fawcett conditioner.”

Your own soft laugh fades into the night as Eddie’s lips find yours again, the summer storm brewing over your heads and the glittering lights of the carnival in the distance and the moment of terror in the woods blurring against the radiant joy of knowing the one you love loves you back just as much.

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝🖤

Requests for angst/smangst remain open. If you want to check out my works in progress, here's the list🖤

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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oh, to be alone with you

Joel Miller x OC!Reader [8.9k] SUMMARY: Never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all. His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance. Now... this seemed like a third. Joel saw the feelings in your eyes, and he took a chance, hoping to be choosing right for everybody this time.

— A/n 📝This was a commission made by the lovely and (very patient) Grace, and I hope they enjoy the most out of everyone ;) Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors DNI. | 🏷️ age gap, slow burn, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, mutual pining, resolved sexual tension, insecure!Joel, protective!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talking, soft!Dom!Joel, praising, edging, cum play, uhm. filth? lol. you're welcome.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

In the three years he knew you, Joel never heard you sound like this.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him. Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him. Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The first thing was set in stone. The second, on the other hand, he could try to change.

He meets her in Jacksonville, after fucking everything up with Ellie.

They had just arrived, both of them. Drenched in regret, numerous traumatizing events all muddled together, as that thick air of uncertainty surrounded their relationship. Joel thanked his brother and Maria for welcoming them back. Ellie spoke so little the first day that even Maria, someone who barely knew her, tried prying information out of her.

But it'd been quickly forgotten. One moment, Ellie and Joel were in a nameless hospital surrounded by fireflies, and a month later, they were settled into a nice house in the commune.

As if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

And there, in Jacksonville, there's you.

One of the only two doctors in town, the other being your very own old man.

All he remembered from the day he met you was your smile. Those beautiful cheeks painted cherry red, the wrinkles in the corner of your eyes, and how round and big they seemed to him as you said, "Hi. It's nice to meet you, Joel. 'm Grace."

You were. Joel had said something back. Ran away from there as soon as he could, but he played that smile every hour for the next three days before he caved in and came back to see you again.

Little did Joel know how much of a grace you'd become.

You were the only person who knew about Ellie.

Being the one who tattooed her on the second week after she arrived, Joel and Ellie decided together that at least one of the only two doctors should know about her condition, and so she told you.

Whatever Joel had expected from you, your reaction was as further from it as it could be. Nonchalance, and a sad grin. A placating nod as you told him, "you can wait here, I'll examine Ellie thoroughly and then we'll get started on the tattoo; I'll call you inside then, 'kay?"

All the compliments you offered towards the design — something Ellie drew herself — made you rise in her list of favorite people, speedily.

There was also openness. Ellie looked at you as you poked the needles in her skin with calculating eyes and Joel saw in them — if eyes could touch, she'd be reaching out for you. Hands spread open and fingers clutching around nothing. Ellie wanted to trust.

It was only a few more weeks before she confided in you and then walked up to her and Joel's place to confront him.

Demanding the truth.

The truth she knew he'd kept from her since she woke up in the car, probably.

"There was no cure."

Ellie stopped trusting him.

Joel died a little bit on the inside, but... she's alive.

He'd do it all over again.

You found him sitting on the edge of the lake with a guitar on his feet and his body frozen with dread, thinking about how hard Ellie had cried.

When you asked him, "Can I sit?", Joel thought it'd be another one of those times when you two sat close to one another in perfect silence. It happened a few times during movie nights or shared dinners in the commune's barn. Joel soaked up your presence, but that time, you had more. "You know... if one day you ever wanna hear my thoughts, professional thoughts on this whole 'cure' matter, I'd be happy to share them."

Joel had looked up at you, even though that hurt. So beautiful. "'m not sure I ever wanna think about it too hard."

You nodded. Scooted a little closer to him. "That's alright too. I just wanted to — put it out there. So you know I have thoughts about it. I told her that, too, but she gave me kinda the same reply."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, Joel. She did." No one did a sad grin quite like you. The way it reached through your eyes and touched him. "You two are so... similar."

"But we ain't." Joel knew they were different. He knew what Ellie would've chosen. "I think... I wished too hard we were."

The laughter was unexpected. "Joel."

"Yeah?"

"You do realize I know what you did, right?"

If a pin dropped a thousand miles away, at that moment, Joel would hear. With a deaf right ear or not, he would. I know what you did. Was that possible? How would you know and still have been this kind to him these weeks? Still have chosen to sit by his side, to make Tommy bug him about getting his check-ups, to be sitting next to him?

You nodded at his gawking eyes and jaw-slacked mouth. "Yeah. I'm quite good at putting two and two together."

"I... Grace — what I did—" he saw flashes of it. The white noise still echoed in him. "There's no way to know that and still be able to look me in the eye. It's why she hates me now. I — I was selfish. I took away her purpose just because I'm an old fucker who didn't wanna—"

"I would've done the same." It stopped him. The words clamped his mouth shut. "I don't have any children, but I love the only parent I have, and I would've done the same for him. He would do the exact same thing for me. Don't think he wouldn't. I know he looks like the sweetest old man ever, but he'd rip apart an entire hospital to get to me too. Go ask him if you don't believe me — but believe this: If I had a child, I wouldn't let them make this 'grand sacrifice', not even if I thought it'd work. Which is not the case here."

Joel had nothing to say to all of that.

He swallowed the knot tying his vocal cords together and looked ahead, trying to process the perspective from which you saw the situation.

Sitting in silence with you brought him peace, and that day, it deterred him from the plan that was coming together — the seed of maybe if you poisoned yourself slowly over the years you could finish the job this time.

Joel asked for your father's location in the commune, then walked with you when the sun set to eat dinner.

Ellie still hated him, and she probably would continue to for a long time, but Joel no longer felt like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no end in sight for his fall.

I would've done the same. The words pulled him back. Made him see blue once more.

Validation saved his life. Your approval became a pillar.

He'd continue to seek it for the next years to come.

The Earth finished a whole new cycle around the Sun, and Joel started to build a life again in the meantime.

He worked patrols and went back to carpentry.

He befriended your father, who loved calling him to have dinner or smoke a pipe with him on his porch. Your father was a sweet-looking man who hid very crazy, funny, and dark bits inside of him.

"I see where she gets it from," Joel commented.

It pulled boisterous laughter from him. "Yeah, she's a feisty one."

Joel snorted. It came out in smokes. "Feisty? Ellie's feisty. I was on patrol last month when the raiders tried transpassing. I've seen your daughter use a scalpel in ways I still have fuckin' nightmares about."

More laughter was followed by, "I taught her well."

"You sure fuckin' did." Joel laughed too. Not because it was funny, but because the memory kind of terrified him. Thrilled him. He shook his head and gave the pipe back. "Was she always like that?"

"Was Ellie always like this?"

Joel chuckled. "Fair enough." Even though Ellie was now a teenager, and Joel had only known her for two years, he answered. "I think she has, yeah. A lil' badass. A lil' feisty and weird. And funny."

"God — she is funny."

"I didn't think so at first."

"She needed to work on her delivery," your father laughed like there was no tomorrow. No apocalypse. "I like seeing her and Grace together. I think she's waking up that motherly desire in her, ya know? I always wanted to see her be a mom before I give my big adios."

"If she hears ya she's gonna smack you again."

"Eh! She's always hitting folks. Her violent little heart can't stop anyone from reaching the pearly gates."

"Morice, I've heard enough stories to know you ain't seeing any pearls."

There had been silence, and then unstoppable, loud laughter from both of them.

It was the memory Joel thought about the most after he passed away.

When you came to his house with a whiskey bottle in hand and the angriest look Joel had ever seen on your stunning features, he knew without a word being said.

He sat with you in silence as you had done for him so many other times. You cried, chopped wood until your clothes were soaked in sweat, and drank with Joel until the bottle was empty.

It had been the first time you asked for something more.

When you caved into the tears late at night, Joel saw you pacing from left to right and had no clue what to do, what to offer, but you spared him of choosing. "Can I — can you hug me?"

He complied in the same second.

The request was quieter than the wind, but he could pick out your voice from a crowd.

Joel wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

That opened up new doors — pearly gates. A year of small touches on the forearm and close proximity at every given opportunity made Joel aware of how much he craved your presence. Those little flames were nothing compared to this—a hug, and Joel's mind and body were a forest on fire.

You clung to him, rubbed your face on his chest, and refused to let go. You accepted every caress in your hair, and almost fell asleep on his shoulder.

After the hug, any excuse was a good one.

You touched him every time you saw him — even if just a little nudge on the shoulder or a finger brushing the back of his hand.

Joel started leaving tobacco and herbs on top of Morice's resting place, and continued their conversations even if he never heard the replies.

"I'll take care of 'er. Be by her side, y'know? I know she doesn't need it, but... You and her were the reason I found some happiness in here, so... It's only fair."

Somewhere along the way, you'd convinced Joel to play on Tommy's barbecues which happened every month for some of his friends.

Music connected weird parts of him together.

The strings of his guitar were one of the only guarantees he had of making Ellie smile, for starters. When she asked for the lessons a while after stopping all communication with Joel, he had simply nodded a meek, "Yeah," too stunned to add anything else; too grateful to even dare think about it.

Your request came the very first time Joel attended one of the famous Millers Sunday, and it was the reason why Joel went from feeling like a stranger in a strange town to himself again.

Tommy clapped him on the back. You, and your smile from across the yard with the fireplace burning in between, and Joel felt almost like a person.

So he sang. Played the strings even if his joints ached around the edges, played until they no longer did and his body grew used to the motions again, played every month to come just to see the smile creep on your face and you mouthing along the lines of the songs you knew.

One day, he asked why didn't you join Ellie's lessons.

"She's gettin' real good at it." He was proud of it. Joel almost preened talking of it, matter-of-factly, missing the way your eyes softened. "You like music. You like it and miss it, which not many people do. I don't even know why I ain't never thought of it — 'm sorry about that, darlin'. Were you ever interested? In learning?"

With his eyes back on you, Joel swallowed a little thickly at how gentle your smile looked. "Joel — have you ever seen me on The Porch's dance floor? Do I look like I have any rhythm?"

"Sure you do."

Your laughter. "No, I don't!" You slapped his arm, hiding your laughter in your arms afterward, and Joel was used to it. Being hit, being poked, being used as a pillow. "Stop lying to me."

"I ain't lyin'." He was. It made him smile to see you laugh that hard.

"You're full of shit, that's what you are."

"Is that your medical diagnosis?"

The giggles that were subduing came back, and Joel knew the second glass of wine had caught up to your head. "You've been spending too much time with Miss Williams."

That made him laugh. Joel did so with his head thrown back because not even three days ago he had a screaming 16-year-old screaming at him about 'manipulation of the goddamn perspective' and if that wasn't your lingo through and through. "That's rich! Oh, that's rich as fuck comin' from you."

"How so?!"

"I reckon Ellie Missy Williams's been doin' just fine with your tutoring. Don't think I've missed you and her gigglin' in the room every now and then."

You roll your eyes, smiling so wide that your tinted cheeks look carved into stone. "Fine. I'm a terrible influence. Her attitude got nothing to do with her grumpy ass 'father-figure' who taught her how to be a goddamn menace to society."

"I can hear the air quotes even when you don't them with your finger, darlin'," Joel accused, trying to suppress his smile and school his face into a threatening, menacing look.

He's hit with the memory of when you first mocked him for it.

"Don't call me her father. I ain't her father."

"Good fucking gods, you two are so difficult! Fine. As her "father figure", you need to say something. Is that better, Joel? Did the semantics change help you?"

Now, you have the same side smirk.

"You didn't say I was wrong." Your voice dropped to a whisper.

It pulled his body closer. Like gravity was in your sound waves. "I didn't."

You rested your chin on your hand. "So... we're both a bad influence."

"Seems that way," he found himself whispering too. Joel kept his eyes on your cheeks. On your lashes and your eyes, even if they pierced through him.

"Considering she's in perfect health, handles herself just fine, and is trying her best to keep the good people of this town safe... I think that's not a bad job. The whole picture, y'know?"

Joel nods and his lips tug in a smile — not because of your sweet spoken words, but because it's funny to see it. Your mind switching to seriousness so fast.

"I do love music, though," you pout, looking up at him. He recalls how the bickering started this time around, and chuckles at your late confession. "I like watching you guys better than any idea of me playing. Or singing." With a full-body shudder, you add. "That is not where my talents lie."

"Could be," he insisted, just for the sake of that—

—your smile. "Not even you have that patience, Miller."

Miller. He had to look away every time you spoke it that way. "You're right. The brat burned away the last savings I had of that."

He heard you chuckling, and then he felt it. The nuzzling of your nose on his shoulder. "Nah. You were trying to sweet talk her just last week."

"She needs a new horse," he argued with thin air over the memory you bring up. He also scoots closer to the couch so you can rest your head on him when you're done with your cat-like behavior and end up with your whole face pressed on his shoulders, your breath tingling his neck. "And you could help me with convincing her, couldn't ya?"

"I'm not gonna meddle in your Miller-Williams business," you scoffed as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

As if these two years and a half hadn't been about you and him and her and everything orbiting around that.

Joel scoffed back. "Darlin', if you think you ain't mingled in our business, I'm gonna have to be the bearer of bad news here..."

"More tangled."

"It's just a horse, Grace."

"She lost her first pet, a horse, in a traumatic even, Joel."

Fuck him, he loved doing this with you. He sipped the last remnants of alcohol from his glass hoping it'd dull the smell of your hair invading his senses. Or maybe he liked when it amplified it. Who knew. Who gave a fuck. "Fine."

"Fine."

"She can keep usin' the stables' horses every time we gotta go out." Joel was never above playing dirty. Certainly not with you. "The ones Rick tames. The ones that sense how volatile, strong, angry she can be..."

The way you tensed was twice more obvious with your whole body pressed on his side. "God, I fucking hate you sometimes."

Joel laughed at the empty curse. "'m just sayin'."

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?"

"You do and it's annoying and fine." You sighed deeply. "I'll get into yet another awkward, intense conversation with the volatile teenager about the importance of facing traumas. It'll go great."

"Better you who knows what the fuck you're talkin' about than me."

"She just stopped giving me the cold shoulder." It's a whine. You're whining at Joel about his daughter who still lives in a constant fluctuation between loveshatesloveshates with him was giving you the cold shoulder.

"It takes her two weeks to get over her lil' fights with you."

"Hmm." It was nice when you gave in. There were few times Joel could get through your stubbornness — something you and Ellie had engraved in your souls — and it felt like a win every time. "I'll talk to her."

Joel's hand moved on its own accord. From his lap to your hair, resting slowly on your head.

He squeezed a few times, and felt you nudging towards the touch. Leaning into it.

"Thanks, darlin'."

There was a heartbeat before you answered.

"'Course, Joel."

While the looks were easy to ignore, the whispers were not.

Words carried by the wind clung to his skin like the very smell of sweat after some years of running non-stop.

They spoke about him.

About Ellie.

You.

All three, mushed together, sometimes all in one go, sometimes two by two, but always you three.

Joel knew what they thought of him and you — of your time spent together.

They thought of him as inappropriate. You had always been the 'dark sheep' of the commune. The reason why people sometimes still remembered how grim and ugly it was out there. They spoke of you as ruthless, frowned upon your methods, but Joel smell their bullshit and saw beyond their condescension.

It was easy to speak with their bellies full.

With their houses safe. God, it boiled his blood to even think about it — these people sometimes slept with their doors opened because the security around the wooden gates was so great and efficient, but failed to remember or willingly forgot that all triage was created by your now deceased father and you.

It was your 'ruthless methods' that kept the creeps away.

Who screened people who seemed otherwise harmless but sought to do sordid, unspeakable things inside safe havens they'd have no problem burning to the ground.

Sure, he'd cleaned his way through a hospital to stop the murder of one single child, but at least Joel had a head on his shoulders.

Some people out there lacked even that.

As much as he wished for judgment to come only from the strangers he grew to know as neighbors and comrades — something you, personally, loved teasing him and Tommy of being — but of close people.

Maria, he could handle it. It was when Tommy spoke up that it stung.

"Don't you think it's... weird? Hangin' out with her so much? I mean—I heard from Dieter that he wanted to ask her out, but somehow when he goes to ask she's always talkin' to you." Tommy looked like he meant well with it. Those eyes never lied to him, and Joel saw the concern there. "I just don't want you to feel left out or abandoned in case she does start seein' someone, that's all."

That's all.

As if he hadn't opened a dent in Joel's mind.

A 'in case she does start seein' someone' sized dent.

It was the only time Joel gave a damn about words being spoken of him—or to him, he should say, considering it was meant as advice.

It was the first and last time.

In three years Joel never thought of you or anything he felt as inappropriate. Maybe he even should.

There were certainly dreams.

Desire was there, too. Alive and burning. Tall and solid, with the fires high enough for it to be a volcano.

But he swallowed it down.

He knew you were not for him.

He knew you were too bright. Knew he had nothing to offer but his company, some music every now and then, and everything inside of him, if you asked.

Still—he never did anything.

Even in the times when it felt like the bickering and teasing might be called flirting. In the times when you bit your lip after staring at him a heartbeat or two too long, or when you made his chest, shoulders, his neck your personal comforter, making yourself at home.

He bit his tongue during those times.

Told himself there was such a thing as projecting, and that just because you knew him, knew all of him, it didn't mean your kindness and acceptance equaled all that he felt for you.

All of the fuckin' ocean of things he so painfully, obviously felt for you.

Listening to Tommy worked until it didn't.

Until you showed up at his doorstep late at night, pissed off and fuming.

"Where the fuck were you?" Without even waiting for a reply, you stepped inside the house, pushing past him. "And speaking of being places, where have you been? 'Cause blowing me off only works the first four or five times. I know where you live, and in case it wasn't crystal clear to you, I know when you're lying to me."

So you pretended to believe his shitty lies. Joel closed the door with a sigh and wondered if Ellie was already listening from upstairs.

He imagined telling you to lower your voice was a certain ticket to meeting your father earlier than his due time.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't answer where you've been." Your arms crossed over your chest. "Y'know, it's called Miller Sunday and ever since you moved here, that means two for one. Tell me why I endured Maria's friends the whole fucking night, hm?"

"Uh — 'cause they like you?"

"Joel."

"I know, I know." He chuckled under his breath, raising both hands up in surrender. "My bad." He nodded towards the kitchen trying to work out how to knit an excuse on the spot, and then remembered—I know when you're lying to me. "I've been... stuck in my head."

There was a pause. "Oh. Ew." That made him laugh again. "Well, alright. That happens sometimes. Care to share why you're acting as if isolation's gonna help with that?"

"Damn, I don't know, woman. 'Cause I'm old and stupid? 'Cause I listen to Tommy every now and then even though that's a shitty idea sometimes?"

"Don't call yourself stupid in my presence, it's fucking offensive." The damn heat behind your words almost made him work up a sweat. "What does Tommy have to do with this?"

"Nothin'." Joel hid his face while opening the fridge, but he knew your silence well. He picked up the water jug, and placed it on the counter behind him.

"Miller, look at me."

Goddamn it.

He turned around slowly.

You were looking right through him. Searching all over his face for something you found within two seconds.

Then, you stepped closer until you were only a few inches away, looking up at him with enough certainty in your gaze to make him feel smaller despite the inches he had on you.

"I know damn well who I wanna spend my fucking time with." It was like a caress to the face. Joel felt it like your fingertips, which had traced the lines in his eyes and face until he fell asleep a few times by now. "Never insult me again by thinking you, or Tommy, or anyone for that matter can know that better than me."

An adult. Who knows who she is. Who's walked her path.

It went unsaid.

Joel nodded along since there was nothing to do but agree.

"If you don't wanna spend time with me for you own reasons, then... so be it. Tell me about them, or don't, but—never do this again. Your brother's known me for a little longer than you, but he doesn't know me as well as you do. I expected this from Tommy."

But not from him.

"It ain't gonna happen again." Joel said it and you both could hear how he meant it.

Slowly, a smile crept on your face. "Good."

"You're smiling?" he asked, dumbfounded.

The smile widened. "I'm... a little happy right now."

"Because... I ain't gonna be a stu—sorry, a silly little old man any more?"

There was a giggle you tried suppressing and failed at. "No."

"'Cause you're gonna use this against me for the next fortnight to get me to do whatever you want even though I'm nearly a sixty-year-old man?"

A roll of your eyes put a smile on his face as well. "You're more in shape at sixty than a lot of our twenty-year-olds here and that act doesn't work with me, darling. No—I'm happy 'cause I'm surprised. It works on you too."

"What works on me?"

"My mean glance." The answer took him by surprise, and yet, all you seemed was even more gleeful at his wide-eyed expression. "Didn't know I could scare Joel Miller."

"You're gigglin' 'cause you just found out I'm scared of ya?"

"Exactly."

"Darlin' I thought you saw me as a smart one. Who in their right mind ain't scared of you?"

"Damn right." You slapped his shoulder, and it seemed to ease some of the tension he carried these days he tried creating distance between you both. "Now — since we established the rights and wrongs. You wanna hear all the gossip about today?"

Joel had picked up the jug of water, but he could switch to the cans of beer.

"Lay it on me."

The thing is — never in his wildest thoughts did Joel think he'd end up having a life, after all.

Who was he to be one of the few lucky bastards who got one at the end of everything? What had he done to ever dare dream he deserved it?

Peace, a good life, building things again... that was reserved for the good ones.

Joel was not one of the good ones.

His mind had sort of stopped at thirty-six, then geared back into reality, twenty years later when he gained a second chance.

All the things he did in between those instances counted for a whole lot.

It's why he ignored it until he couldn't anymore.

That was why Joel saw only his own feelings screaming and reaching so loud, grasping like grabby fingers towards you, and blinded himself to the way all those gazes you sent back were you giving him a white flag.

Joel saw what he had the heart and mind to handle at the moment, he liked to think.

Now... this seemed like a third.

This seemed like a confession.

And it all had happened so fast.

One minute, Joel was saying goodnight to Ellie. She was leaving to go to her friend Dina's house, and you were there with your glass of wine in hand while your other browsed through the new books he picked up at the library lying on his shelves.

He had been talking about Martha — to him, it was a funny story he wanted to get out of his system since it happened, and the one and only person he wanted to tell it to was you.

He was even laughing as he started it, but his rhythm faltered when he first caught the look on your face. It made him lose his train of thought. It fucking blindsided him.

Was it jealousy?

He stuttered. It was ridiculous to him — talking about the nice woman who worked at the restaurant who flustered herself trying to talk to Joel. Flirt with him.

He'd never seen that look on your face.

Could it be—no. It had to be something else. "...told her that she isn't actually, uhm... biological. What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? Was I shit-talking myself again and didn't notice?"

If there was a thing that put a frown on your face, it was when he did that.

"No." Joel became alert out of nowhere because this tone was absent from his mental register of all your different voice tones.

"Oh. I thought I did." He laughed, albeit awkwardly. "I just—I thought it was funny, that's all. Didn't even think it was possible for someone to blush still 'cause of old me. It was funny, couldn't believe why she was so flustered.

"Why not? That wasn't the reason for my face but now it fucking is." How could Joel ever demand that Ellie cursed less when this was his household? He pinned that one for later. "You're a handsome guy. Intimidating. Don't laugh at her because you give off those... vibes."

Handsome? Intimidating? Joel's mind started reeling, and so he laughed. "Vibes? What fuckin' vibes? I'm old, Grace. What does she got to be intimidated about other than the side of me she doesn't even fuckin' know?"

"I don't know!" your voice rose to match his own, and that's when Joel noticed how his pitch rose as he argued with you. Bickering or fighting, you two could end up at each other's throats within a second, and then be hugging in the next. "Maybe because she sees you from an outsider's lens? Maybe she sees what you can't since you're so busy always thinking about everything you do wrong and lose the ability to look past that?"

"All I do is get shit wrong! You better than anyone knows that." God, was he happy Ellie had left. Joel sighed, rubbed his palms all over his face and tried breathing deep to steady his voice. "I've got nothin' to offer anyone and I don't even know how we got here from a funny lil' story I was—"

That's when it happens.

You interrupt him.

Deadly, direct, and loud, you cut over his words.

"Don't you ever say that again. Don't you ever talk that kind of bullshit in my presence, Joel."

"Why not?! It's the truth."

"No, it fucking isn't! It's the cruel part of you that judges you based only on the wrongdoing and paints it as your whole personality and I'm not gonna fucking have it! It's not the truth. It's not! Not to me." When you stopped, the whole house seemed to follow suit and quiet down with you. Then—"You don't accept me seeing only the worst in me. Why would I let you do the same? I won't."

There was bass to your voice when you threatened him.

Fire in your cheeks. A glint so bright and wide washing in the shore of your eyes that it clicked for him.

Joel realized what he'd been ignoring for the past three years — a time he spent dancing around the dark hunger he carved in his bones for you — he saw, for the first time as clear as water, that you meant those smiles. The sweetness. The honey stick way your hand touched his skin, sometimes, and the traces it left behind.

It silenced him immediately.

As you defended him from his own words, Joel saw he was not only old, but also goddamn stupid.

The silence must have stretched for too long because as it becomes a physical blanket draping over both of your shoulders, your posture changes.

Becomes erratic.

Looking from side to side, you sigh. "Y'know what? I should go. We're both hot-headed idiots and I don't wanna—"

"Sit down."

For the first time ever, you obeyed him.

It took you a second—you froze at the command but stopped your movements to remove your jacket from the chair's back and sat back down in slow movements, your eyes lingering on his all the time.

Was it real?

"Gimme a second here." Joel needed more than that. Goddamn it—Joel would need the rest of his life to accommodate to this feeling. Thing bubble of pure, raw energy swirling inside of him and growing each second, all because— "You were."

You were jealous. Of him.

Your eyes never looked so vulnerable. So earnest, and terrified. "Of course I was." It comes out like you silly old man.

Joel tries to work his vocal cords. They might've been knitted together. "Why?"

Instead of raging over him again, this time, your gaze sees the real question he's asking.

Joel never believed in an air you could touch until he stood in this very room.

He can taste the back of his tongue. He sees your frown softening, disappearing.

"Because you care, Joel." The simpler answer. He waits, because he sees in your steady, careful breathing that there's more you want to say. This tone he recognizes. This is 'I'm collecting myself bit by bit' Grace, and he waits, as always. "Because... you either lost your eyesight or just blinded yourself to... you." It's nighttime and the only light in the kitchen comes from his yellowish bulb, but it's enough to see the tint on your cheeks. "Because you're—this package. Of everything real. Everything resilient, and clever, and... Miller. Fuckin' — southern charm. Stupid fuckin' smile."

It amps. It darkens. Your cheeks, your eyes. And once you seem, it seems a crack is opened in your dam, and the inevitable water comes to fall.

"I dreamt about it before." Joel is stuck in place, listening to you. "Your smile. The way you laugh, too. And — you do this thing, where you're a complete delight to people you care about. That's what Ellie means when she says you make it so hard to stay away from you, just so you know."

"You two talk about me?" it comes out choked.

You nod. "'Course we fuckin' do."

"Goddamn it."

"Yeah." Your laughter sounds as breathless as he feels. "Because of that. And more."

He nods back, thinking — okay.

Okay.

Joel might take a lifetime to feel worthy of your feelings, but if he has them — "I didn't think I stood any chance."

The confession lays on the table for a moment and when you pick it up, Joel can see it — your eyes widen, surprise evident on your face.

"You really didn't know," you whisper.

He blinks away the sudden sting and glint in his eyes, laughing at himself. "I really didn't know." He registers you knew about your own feelings, but you have no idea of his. It registers that you both have been suffering in silence, overshadowed by the brightness of your own feelings to see beyond them. "I don't think I could've handled it if I knew it before," he confesses.

"Wow." You sigh deeply, sucking all the air you can into your lungs. "I can't believe I owe that little shit fifty bucks. I don't even have money."

"You bet on this?"

The look you throw him is enough of an answer.

Then, another question pops up — and yeah. That's why the air is palpable. It's like walking through a spider's nest.

The threads might be thinner than hair, but the feeling sticks out. It sticks with you. If Joel's had a chance all this time, if all your feelings were kept safely tucked i

He only has one question to make. "Is it too late?"

Your eyes snap back to him. "Too late for what?"

"To make a move." Joel might've been an idiot, but he's keen on fixing it. "Because — in case it wasn't clear, my thoughts are all yours." From the look on your face, it was not something you knew. The glint in your eyes tells him it might be something you hoped for or dreamed about, but it's his words that set it into stone. "My time's yours. I ain't as good as you with words, but... all I ever wanna be is alone with you. You said it yourself last month. 'm the happiest when I'm with you and El. Now... you know why."

For someone who knew him so little, you always seemed to know what kept Joel tethered to the moment.

As you listened to his words, your eyes shined, reflecting the light. Joel wanted to say more things, but he decided to keep them for later. A moment when there was less of his soul seeming to pour out through his pores.

You get up from your chair, and in two steps, you're standing in front of him.

Turning sideways, you sit on his lap.

Joel feels his hands shake as they come to rest on your hips, and yours come up to his face.

There's nothing left for you to say, or ask. Joel closes his eyes in surrender. Opening his mouth was a leap — perhaps the height was what created that bubble; that huge thing inside of him that only expanded the closer you got.

Joel never felt this before.

He knew those were your lips pressing against his. Knew it was your hair tickling his face and your fingers threading through his thick hair, but he felt submerged.

Not drowning — just deep, way deep in water.

You pulled back after a second. The kiss was so soft, and yet, Joel felt you like an ocean wave.

He opened his eyes to the sight of you licking your lips, and that snapped him; something in your tongue reached deep within him, going further than he thought possible, and ignited another something in him.

Desire.

Not the need for release, or momentary rushes, but—

the real deal.

One of Joel's hands came up abruptly, taking hold of your neck, and he breathed in a slow breath before closing the gap between your lips again.

This time, he invited himself in.

Joel licked your lips open. He pulled you closer until you were pressed against his chest, and kissed you for all the years he lacked the will to kiss someone.

It was a feast.

The more he gave, the more you took. The sounds that started to come out of you only made Joel hungrier, and the more he heard it, the more he craved it.

He could already see the cycle of addiction forming in his brain.

Your tongue swirled with his slowly, in a lazy, filthy kiss. With his hands making a mess of your hair or grabbing you by the neck and chin, he guided your face to where he wanted.

When a particular breathy whine was pulled out of you, Joel's fingers tightened around you. The kiss became desperate, needy, a pouring of bottled emotions.

A joined deep dive, where no oxygen was needed.

Fuck—Joel needed to breathe. He pulled back because his lungs screamed that at him, and he laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that. His heart was beating as fast as it could, and his ears were ringing, he thought, and you were resting your forehead on his with your puffs of breath tickling his face.

He could feel you smiling with how close you stayed to his lips.

Joel really was alive, no matter how hard he fought it.

And now, somehow, he was here.

"What?" you whispered. Breathless.

That, he wanted to answer. Joel panted, and noticed you were breathing heavily too.

"'m never been in such a hurry my whole damn life." Joel pulled you back by the nape for one more kiss just to show you he meant it, and you moaned on his lips.

It occurred to him that might die by your hands, metaphorical or not.

You were in him.

"You." His time was yours, and so were his thoughts, and now, Joel thought he was, too. In a way. "Sittin' here on my lap, like it's nothin'."

"It's everything."

"Goddamn it, woman—"are you trying to kill me, he wants to say.

It gets buried in your lips.

Joel wants to devour you right there on the table. It's a place for eating, and he'd butter you up only to eat you piece by piece until half of his face was drenched.

At the same time, Joel's hands were shaking.

He kissed you so deep, and yet so slow because he wants this forever.

He couldn't keep everything inside him. Joel knew all he could do for now was kiss you because anything more might pull him apart by the seams.

When you start kissing his neck, his eyes snap open, and he forces himself to capture your attention. "Darlin'." It comes out raspy and low, pulling another precious sound from you. Joel exhales shakily. "Grace, hey."

That gets you. Your face comes back in his field of vision, and he's distracted by the reality facing him.

Red cheeks and lips, which are also puffy. Swollen.

He did that.

The glazy glint in your eyes and the wildness of your hair.

He did that, too.

"What?" you ask. Breathless voice — all him.

It hits him right there—the new stream making connections in the depths of his mind. Mine. A river of mineminemine.

"I hate to break this short, but — El's comin' back soon, I think."

"Oh!" You nod to yourself. "Right. And — you wanna wait? To tell her, and stuff?"

Joel laughs. He leans his head to kiss those pretty, puffy lips. He murmurs the answer right against them. "Nah. 'm gossiping to her as soon as she's through that door and 'm gettin' my money share of that bet you mentioned." Your gasp makes the smile stay on his face. "Yeahhh. But — I'm takin' you on a date tomorrow. Old school style. I'll plan it and everythin'. I know you well enough to not mess this up, I think."

He's messed up enough in his life. Maybe the universe could grant him after trying so damn hard to repair all the things he'd broken; a chance.

"I'll be ready, Miller."

He kisses you again. "Good. I'll pick you up at sundow."

"Is this you kicking me out of your house?"

He rolls his eyes at the sarcastic question and kisses the cocky grin off your face because he now can. He kisses it away real good, until his own toes are squirming in his boots and Joel can categorize the strength you like to have your hair being pulled by, how much you enjoy the nibbles he's unable to keep from stealing of your lips, and he's mapped the outlines of your upper body.

When he needs the stupid oxygen again, Joel pulls back but stays close.

"You're gonna help me make dinner?" he asks, low and sweet.

You hum. "Yeah."

"Thank you." Thank you, he kisses the thought on your lips. Thank you so much. "'m gonna be doin' this a lot now that I know I can."

"Oh, you're gonna kill me."

Joel's smirk comes back. "Y'know what? I was thinkin' the same thing."

Dinner is made with music playing on the radio for the first time in a while. Joel almost pinches himself when Ellie gets home with a, "Woah, what the fuck?! It smells amazing in here."

It hurts, how good it feels.

Joel never thought that feeling would come back.

According to Ellie Williams, Joel becomes "unbearable, really," and he would take offense to it had she not followed it with, "but... it's nice to see this side of you. And — I like her. I love Grace, actually. You know that. She's given me a lot to think about. Plus—she makes you reeeeal talkative, and we had a nice talk last night. Good on you."

Good on you.

Joel smiles for the rest of the day.

Tommy takes a total of one day and one scolding from you — which Joel fucking misses because of a shift of all things, and honestly, he'll never stop asking for your story of that day — and there's that.

Millers Sunday has a couple of tense first tries, but after a couple of months, people get used to the shift.

It's not that different from before.

You two were already seen side by side more often than not. Now, the difference was that Joel's arm could be found around your chair sometimes, or your hand rested on his neck, or you two shared a little wink.

A little flirtatious remark.

Ellie 'hated' it. "It's gross. You two are gross."

She said it laughing, though. Joel smiled every time he heard it.

They grew used to it, and Joel thanked the power of the peace you brought him, because anything they disliked about it became white noise to him.

All his insecurities were abandoned on the first date night he has with you.

Joel gets the house all for himself.

He plans the hours carefully because he meant what he said. He picks you up at sunset and takes you for a walk on the lake to enjoy the night sight and weather while it lasts. After, he takes you home to eat dinner, then pulls out one of your favorite board games to entertain the night and give both the time to work through the wine.

He liked to see your glee winning.

Joel was shitty at most of these, but it was worth the frustration of being a sore loser in your hands.

You soothed his bickering protests by crawling to him.

Not sliding, or scooting over — you crawled like a cat, and stole all his focus in one movement.

Joel did to you what he meant to do on that table.

First, right there on the floor.

Even though he wished you two went to the bedroom, it was impossible to untangle from under you when you kissed him until you two were panting for each other again. All that energy sizzling in your veins, pumping with dreams and wine, and Joel just thought fuck it.

There was a fluffy carpet and the duvet he'd spread so you two could sit with the game and play comfortably, and that's all he needed.

He had you on your back with your legs wrapped around his neck, lying with his stomach on the floor. Kneading the pad of his thumbs on the inside of your legs. Kissing all the parts of you he imagined. Joel stripped you from your clothes, and kept his eyes fixed on you as he searched for the right ways to unwind you.

He opened you up with his tongue, slowly, and deliberately.

Nothing was enough when it came to you.

Joel accepted right there — legs locked on his shoulders and your feet digging heels in his back —, right then — his tongue thrusting in and out of you until his jaw ached —, that he was fine knowing it'd be an endless search.

Seeking his fill of you.

He eats up the way your lips loosen when his hands are on you. "Joel, why d'you have clothes on? Take 'em off, take it off." He appreciated how you lost your eloquence. How eager you were for him.

"It's ok, 'm here, darlin."

"I know, want it closer." He loved how you took it. What you wanted from him, you just took it, and he prayed it would always be that way. "Want you in me," you whisper on his lips.

That's when he finds the strength to get up. He picks you up and resists the urge to throw you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom with all of his clothes still on and yours abandoned in various places of the living room.

Time sort of... folds, with you and a bedroom.

Joel finds that out on night one, and it keeps on being true.

The way all your walls are down there drives him towards insanity, and later, you peppering kisses all over the skin closest to you, the skin your mouth can find, it brings him back.

Joel gets undressed slowly. "Get on the bed." He falters a little when you obey him again, and it clicks for him. Joel exhales, throwing his shirt off somewhere. "Touch yourself while I do this."

Your eyes widen for a second, but again...

You smile first. Then, slowly, your knees pull apart and your hand reaches between your legs, where your pussy opens up in a glistening sight, and Joel has only the mind to finish his task.

It's hard not to worship something that makes his mouth water.

He does that until you're shaking, legs trembling on his shoulders and begging for him to come up—"get here, please."

It's the 'please' that gets him.

Joel goes in seek of more of them. Always more of them.

He discovers you like it when he alternates between extremes. Really slow, or a hard, or a fast, or a deep pace. Joel spends as long as he can take testing all the ways you wrapped around him can feel like and all the angles that make your jaw fall slack open.

Something about fucking you face to face, though — Joel gets to see the scrunch of your nose and your eyes rolling back when he praises you for doing so, so well. "Taking me so well. Look at that — look at it, baby, c'mon." The loud and unabashed moan you let out makes him roll his eyes, thrusting deep into you. "Keep on looking."

"Joel."

"Hmhm. What — is it — hm, baby?"

"'m gonna cum again," you whine, getting louder, and he gets more desperate. "Oh, god," you cry out.

"'s fine. That's what — I want. Give it to me"

"It's so good. Please—harder, Joel. Like you want to fuck me."

You enjoy doing it to him, Joel thinks. Breaking him so you can put it back together, or maybe it's just how you make him whine that gets to your head.

It gets louder — everything gets louder. The sounds, the bubble of feelings reading to burst and be reborn again, only bigger, how fucking wet you get for me.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna feel you soakin' me with your cum."

Joel sees why you enjoy it, too.

He smiles, and ascends at seeing the sweet feelings of release washing you from head to toe, and the transcendent look in your eyes when you open them and pull him down for a kiss. You came so hard he lost himself in your orgasm, mixing with his own and he cums a little more at the realization, burying himself deeper in the mess you two have made.

Your whining and panting in can only be felt, so he switches your face to his left side. "Deaf, baby."

You giggle at him. "I didn't say anything."

"I know. Just wanna hear your lil' noises." Joel kisses your neck, and pulls out slowly despite your whiny protests. His fingers come down to between your legs and he should feel self-conscious about the filthy mess he makes there, but when he looks up at your face you're watching him with a look he knows.

I'm starving for you.

Joel seals his lips on yours.

He's never leaving this place. This home he's built where he gets you, and a second chance, and the monthly Sundays with music and you by his side whispering indecent jokes in his ears, and the protective circle you create around him and Ellie ate any minor possibility of outsiders.

Joel's not missing this chance for anything.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup hope you all enjoy it!

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bridenore · 4 months

Text

HD Erised 2023 recs

Here are some of my favorite fics from @hd-erised 2023. Listed in alphabetical order.

Always the Last to Know by @nv-md [10k]

“I’m not napping,” Harry mumbled, his face still pressed to the floor. “I’m thinking.” “Salazar help us,” Draco muttered, walking around Harry’s prone body. Out of the corner of his eye, a bit blurrily, Harry watched as Draco lay beside him. “And what, pray tell, is so difficult to ponder that it requires a lie down?” Harry took a deep breath, very much considered lying, closed his eyes, and said, “Love.”

Clear Skies, Full Hearts by iota / @sorrybutblog [32k]

Harry loves everything about playing professional Quidditch – the rush of flying, the rush of winning, the rush of getting off with rival seeker Draco Malfoy. Harry’s the highest scoring rookie Seeker in the history of the League. He’s also, inexplicably, obsessively, hooking up with Draco. When Draco unexpectedly quits the League and disappears from Harry’s life, Harry doesn’t stop wondering what it all meant and if he’ll ever get another chance to find out.

Draco Malfoy, Bloodsucking Fiend by @kbrick [23k]

There are two things that Draco’s Auror partner, Harry Potter, must never know about him. One is that he’s a vampire. The other is that he’s been completely, pathetically, head-over-heels in love with Harry for years. But when the duo is trapped inside an old shop on Diagon Alley with no means of escape, Draco finds himself fiending for blood and unable to put even a modicum of distance between himself and the man he can’t stop lusting after.

How To Train Your Malfoy by @fencer-x [93k]

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

Jasmine in Bloom by @lqtraintracks [41k]

This is not something Draco can have in his life… Potter overturning all that he’s carefully cultivated. They’re not compatible and never will be. Draco’s been playing with fire. It just so happens that he likes how Potter smoulders before being allowed close enough to burn.

Last Time by bluefay / @thesleepiesthufflepuff [3k]

There are eight years of hatred and seven years of tolerance behind every tease, every blowjob, and every screw. No matter how it ends, though, Draco just hopes he doesn’t lose Potter as a friend.

Martyred by @doingthechachaslide [82k]

Harry Potter only wants one thing: to take care of the people he loves. After Teddy’s abrupt departure from his role as Andromeda’s caretaker, Harry decides it’s finally time to step up and handle the job himself. Castoff Manor, an old Black family estate, has never seemed as sinister as the stories make it sound, but it’s there that Harry stumbles upon ghosts, haunting family secrets, and a familiar, snarky blond gardener hell-bent on chasing him out. Maybe if Harry sticks around long enough, he’ll finally learn why all of Andromeda’s previous caretakers have fled without looking back.

Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship [118k]

If someone told Harry six months ago that by autumn he would be single, living on whisky and toast, and dancing the night away with Draco Malfoy, he would have told them to get their head checked. And yet, here he was.

Nothing Gold Can Stay by @moonflower-rose [40k]

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case.

The Room that Changed Everything by @multiverse-of-fanfic [18k]

When a sabotaged potion lands Harry and Draco in detention, Harry must wrestle with two uncomfortable truths: One, Malfoy the nemesis no longer exists. And Two, Harry is embarrassingly attracted to him. With the war behind them, can Harry and Malfoy build something from the ashes, or are they doomed to be enemies forever?

Sugarplum by @mallstars [27k]

The air crackled as it busied itself shifting around molecules, making way for a hefty slab of magic, and then there it was: the Knight Bus, squeezed neatly into a pocket of Wizarding space among stagnant Muggle buses, vibrant violet amidst a string of cherry red. The door sprang open. "Draco," said Potter, a little breathless, a little cheerful. He smelled of coconut lotion, Cockroach Clusters and a sloppy ironing charm. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, Potter gave a small wave. He wore gloves. Fingerless, the leather black against the sunlight. Leather. In August.

Thickets by @wolfpants [17k]

When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way.

The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft [45k]

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

we have heard on high by @oflights [34k]

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it's Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn't seem to know they're soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #drarry fest #hd erised

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soft-mafia · 7 months

Note

Writes you headcanons for Buggy x Younger reader so you don’t have to get emberassed asking for them:

- Usually doesn’t go for people who are like, a decade younger than he is. He makes jokes and he finds people in the 20 - 25 range attractive but he usually never actually starts anything because it’s either very clear that they are just at wildly different stages in life, that they aren’t interested in him (and he is a monster he’ll tell you, but he very rapidly makes it clear he’s also not THAT kind of monster), or they are attracted to him and he can already tell that they are either having a wrong image of him or that they are misguided and, again, he’ll take advantage of people but he’d walk into the ocean to drown himself before he goes that route.

-So when he actually finds someone that’s younger than him but actually is interested in him like that and also kind of…. Know what they are getting into with him? Who realize he’s been beaten down by the world and a jackass and pompous and imperfect and a whole nother set of unflattering adjectives but also keep insisting that “Yeah no, I am actually still into that.”? He’s a bit perplexed to put it mildly. Will need ages of confirmation and his partner proving that they are capable of choosing for themself and aren’t just feeling puppy love for him.

- Still isn’t convinced that this entire thing is built to last so it will probably be harder for him to open up to them in any ways, even moreso than it already would be if they were in his age range. In turn he’s actually gonna put in some good amount of effort to make the entire thing not completly regrettable for them. He thinks that you eventually gonna realize that you’re better of with someone you’re age, with a stable life and no criminal record but he’s gonna try and make your time with him at least a good one.

- if your first times with him he’s gonna make damn fucking sure he puts out his fucking A-Game. Not really a gentle lover but he’s gonna make sure you are completly fucked out and satisfied by the end of it. He gives you oral and you will have come at least once before he even thinks of sticking his dick inside you. Way more foreplay and kissing than he usually (pretends to not) like. Keeps his devil fruit powers to a minimum because he figures elaborate Chop Chop assisted positions are a bit much for a first timer.

-After that tough he’ll gladly indulge you in any kinky shit you want to try with him. Goes insane when you grab him close one night with your legs wrapped around him and whisper into his ear if you can call him “daddy”. He’s a constant stream of dirty talk after that “Yeah, yeah come on tell daddy how much you like it!”

- Into dirty talk in general actually, loves to bring attention to your age difference at times. fucks you mercilessly from behind before bending over and whispering “You look like such an innocent little thing. Hard to believe you’re letting a dirty old clown like me fuck you almost every single night. I’m a fucking lucky bastard.”

- For all the big game he talks and for how high his libido still is, he still sometimes regrets going so hard on you the day after. You’re already up and jumping into the shower while he turns around still exhausted from last night. Trying out those new positions seemed like a great idea at the time but now he feels like he’s been swallowed and chewed up. How can someone that much younger than him ride THAT hard? Forgets his worry tough when he hears you humming in the next room. Debates with himself for two seconds if he should go back to sleep before throwing the sheets of himself to come join you in the shower. If one of you starts anything during that? …. Wellll he can deal with being just a little more exhausted at breakfast. You make him feel younger than he is

ANON THIS IS AMAZING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

#one piece #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #opla #one piece live action #opla buggy #one piece x reader

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ickadori · 4 months

Text

++ 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎

[summary] arlecchino happens to come across you during a walk, and something about you draws her in.

[cws] fluff-ish. fem reader -> reader is a plump, country bumpkin. my poor attempt at writing a country accent. brief mentions of past violence.

Arlecchino may have seemed cold, unfeeling and ruthless to many, but in truth, she was a deeply caring person. It was clear in her actions, in the way she cared for her ‘children’ and ensured that no harm would come to them as long as she could help it.

She had offered many a helping hand to those who needed it, even to those she sometimes deemed unfit of her assistance. There was always a persistent, nagging feeling at the back of her mind, pushing her to do a few good deeds in an attempt to make up for all the misdeeds she had done in her past, and would inevitably continue to do in the future. It was an impossible task, attempting to drown your sins with good behavior, but she liked to try nonetheless.

And that’s what led her to you.

She had first saw you while she was venturing through the countryside of Fontaine, having just left the Spina di Rosula, and you had been working in your yard; hanging up the wet laundry to dry on the clothesline, sweeping the dirt from the cobblestone path leading up to your quaint little cottage, and watering the flowers and small field of crops.

She had passed by many people living lives similar to yours, simple and quiet as they opted for a more reclusive life, and she hadn’t thought twice about them… but there was something about you that had captured her attention.

Maybe it was your looks. You were beautiful; a face that would have surely turned heads had there been any near you to turn, a body that filled out your clothes nicely, the loose fabric not able to conceal the heft of your breasts, the pudge of your stomach, or the curves of your thighs.

She had found herself transfixed as she stood and watched you, not caring that her dark attire made her stand out like a sore thumb. Besides, you were too preoccupied with your chores to notice her staring so blatantly.

You had worked earnestly, never once stopping to take a break despite the blaring hot sun that glared down at you. In hindsight, she probably should have made herself known then, given you a chance to stop and take a breather, maybe even take a much needed drink, but she had wanted to keep observing you in your natural state.

It was no surprise when your eyes had eventually started fluttering and you began to sway on your feet, and Arlecchino had debated letting you hit the dirt so you’d learn your lesson, but the thought that you might break something on the way down had been enough to spur her into action.

“Silly girl.”

She tsks as she lays you down on your bed, the soft mattress sinking underneath your weight. Now that she’s up close, she can properly look at you, and she lets her eyes take in all of you, from the frizzy strands of hair sticking in odd directions, the dark tan lines on your face that indicates the countless hours you’ve spent outside, the fine hairs on your forearms, the chipped polish on your nails, all the way down to your worn shoes.

She notices now that everything in your home seems to be well-used, from the old, scuffed wood of the front door, to the creaky floors that have probably supported many tenants in their time. The blanket on your bed, a colorful crocheted piece, is worn thin, the threads more frayed in some places than others. Your nightstand looks homemade, poorly at that, the wood is misshapen and when she nudges her boot against it, it rocks wildly and threatens to topple over before steadying itself. The door to your bedroom is nowhere to be found, a ratty sheer curtain in its place instead that flows from the humid air drifting in through the poorly insulated front door.

The sound of you stirring draws her attention, and she directs her gaze back to you. Your eyes slowly blink open, lashes fluttering, and you pause at the sight of her standing near your bedside. You blink once, twice, and she readies herself for a scream worthy of an award followed by a barrage of frenzied questions.

Instead, she gets a gentle smile followed by a sheepish laugh. “Did I pass out again?”

“Again?”

You laugh again, this one a bit more hearty than the last, and slowly begin to sit up in your bed. “Yes, again. I just can’t learn my lesson, it seems — or maybe I just have some damsel in distress trait that I can’t shake.” You press a hand to your head when you’re fully seated, and Arlecchino feels the strange urge to press her hands to your face and check for a fever while she frets about you. It’s foreign, this sudden urge to take care of you, she can’t say that she’s felt this even about her own ‘children’ whenever they fell ill. She wished for their recover, certainly, but she had never been the one to personally see about it, rather sending a trusted doctor to take care of them. “…troubling you.”

“What was that?” The country twang that you speak in is… endearing.

“Oh, I was just apologizing for troubling you. ‘M sure you had lots more important things to do by the looks of it.” It’s your turn to take her in, and she feels a strange sense of pride as you marvel at her clothing, but more so at her hands and the long nails that decorate them. “You must be from the city—oh! Are you one of those circus performers?”

She bristles at the comment, and something must show on her face, because you’re quickly backtracking as you wave your hands in front of you. “Ah, not circus, theatre! A theatre performer, ah, what do they call it…”

“No, I am not an actress.” You visibly deflate, and Arlecchino doesn’t bother dissecting why the sight disturbs her more than it should.

“Oh… well, you certainly look like one.” You stare at her face with a frown, and then a spark of recognition shines in your eyes. “I’ve seen you before.” Those words have not been followed up with anything positive, and she feels a bit sullen at the direction this encounter is surely going towards. “You were standing out in the field when I was workin’!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I remember now. Thats why I thought you were a cir—actress. I thought maybe you were watching me ‘cause you were researching for a role or something.” Arlecchino doesn’t like to label people with stereotypes, but she thinks the label of daft country girl suits you quite a bit. “What were you doing out there?” You watch her with a quizzical look, and she takes note of the way you lick at your dry lips.

“How about you get a glass of water first? I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”

“Ah, right.” You shoot up to your feet, and she has to steady you by your waist when you nearly topple over. You flash another smile her way as you thank her, and she quietly shakes her head at you.

Hopeless.

After pouring yourself a glass of water from a pitcher (she notices that you don’t have running water, and her mind goes back to the nearby well she had saw outside) you greedily down it, loudly swallowing as a few beads of water drip from the sides of your mouth and wet your top.

You let out a relieved sigh as you lower the glass and immediately go to pour another one before you stop and spin around to face her, the water sloshing over the side of the pitcher and splashing onto the floor. A few droplets wet the bottom of Arlecchino’s pants, and her mind flashes to a point in time where she had shed another’s blood over a similar incident.

“Where’re my manners? Would you like a glass, too? I can get you one.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You refill your glass, and that one is downed in a similar manner before you deem yourself hydrated enough and set the glass and pitcher aside.

“I should be thanking you, actually. Sorry for not doing it sooner,” you throw her another one of those sheepish smiles, fat of your cheeks raising up and making your eyes squint. “Who knows how long I would’ve been out there before I woke up.” Or before someone much more sinister than she stumbled upon you, she wants to say, but she chooses not to. She’s already pegged you as incredibly naive and far too trusting, and while she usually relishes in tearing down people’s veils and forcing them to see the harsh, cold truth of the world, she’d rather you stay oblivious, if just for a short while longer.

“You live alone?”

“Yeah, it’s just been me ever since mama died. My brother used to live here, too, but he started seeing some city girl and moved out there to be with her. He visits sometimes, but not a lot.” Your mood dampens at the revealed information, but you immediately perk back up when you focus your attention on her. “What about you? Where do you live? In the city, right? Oh, maybe you know my brother! He lives in…”

Arlecchino listens to you prattle on and on, amusement building inside her as you willingly give up all of you and your brother’s information. She’s had to subject people to cruel means of torture just to receive a fraction of information, and dished out millions of mora to find out the locations of people, and here you are divulging all of your most precious secrets without a care in the world.

She wonders how you’ve survived for this long on your own — the Gods must truly favor you.

“…feel like I’ve just been blabbing your ear off, ‘m sorry.” You give her an apologetic look, plump fingers twiddling together. “Thank you again, really. I wish I could pay you, but…” You give a glance to your surroundings, a laugh following after before you’re meeting her eyes again. “I don’t even have enough to fix this place up.”

“No payment is necessary. I was simply helping someone who needed it.” There’s a mountain of work waiting for Arlecchino back at the Heart of Hearth, not to mention her other endeavors, and it’s all urgent, pressing matters, and yet she finds herself lingering in your rundown home, biding her time. What’s gotten into her? “I recommend keeping yourself properly hydrated the next time you go out to work, not to mention taking frequent breaks out of the sun. The next person who stumbles across you may not be as nice as me.”

“Of course, this won’t happen again! I’ve learned my lesson this time, honest to goodness—oh, don’t look at me like that, I mean it!” She gives you a wary look. “How about this, Miss…?”

“Arlecchino.”

“Arlecchino.” You test the name on your tongue, and seemingly finding it satisfactory, you beam at her, and it’s blinding. “Miss Arlecchino, I am formally inviting you to come back here someday and see for yourself if I learned my lesson. I’ll even cook you a nice meal to properly show my thanks.”

She’s busy, incredibly busy, and she’s never made it a habit to travel to the countryside, much preferring more… developed scenery. She has no time to stop by and come see you, a random woman whose name she doesn’t even know. Her time is valuable, and few can afford to waste it… but she doesn’t feel as though her time has been wasted so far—on the contrary, she feels as if she should be the one to dish out a few mora for having been on the receiving end of your attention.

“So? Is that a yes? You’re gonna come, right?”

“I’ll be incredibly busy for the foreseeable future. There’s many things that require my attention.” Your shoulders sag as you pout, and that feeling of disturbance from earlier comes clawing its way back to her chest. “But I suppose I can find the time to stop by, somehow.”

You cheer, a gleeful little sound followed by a bounce on the balls of your feet that Arlecchino finds to be oddly adorable, and she can’t help the slight curve of her lips.

Yes, she’s certain her time won’t be wasted on you.

#arlecchino x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

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HELLO!!! i have a request for a platonic Crowley and Aziraphale x fem!reader with she/they pronouns 😄 if you know Nimona, then thats what i want the reader to be like. theyre a spunky, immortal, young teenager anarchist who can shapeshift and has unnaturally coloured eyes and hair. one day they find the two (husbands), and kinda just stays, so Crowley and Aziraphale accept their fate!! i dont mind if you decide to include a smudge of angst (or a shit ton whatever you prefer, but im impartial to both, so do with that what you will,) because after the newest season, i cant get enough of it.

many thanks!!

Oh! I haven't seen the movie but I know about Nimona!

......

You met Aziraphale and Crowley in 537 AD, encountering them by pure chance.

At first you intimidate them as a dragon, thinking they were two hapless knights who lost their way back to their kingdom..

Until you saw Crowley's snake eyes, and you realize he's not human at all.

"You there...I like your eyes.....are you another shapeshifter?"

"...um..nope." The demon in black armor looks incredibly confused, especially at this dragon talking to him. "Don't know what gave you that idea.."

"Well technically he is." The white knight adds on, smiling nervously. "You see, my erm..."rival" here is something of a serpent who was sent to-"

"Shut it, Angel. This beast doesn't need our lifestory! Now if you could kindly excuse us, o' great dragon, we have to discuss-"

"Hate to break it to you, but....I'm not actually a dragon."

"Then what are you exactly? You...said something about "shapeshifting" before, didn't you?"

To answer Crowley's question, you transform into a young human clad in knight armor, taking off your helmet to reveal your unnaturally-colored eyes and hair, smiling. "Bingo."

The pair are quite impressed, so they have no reason to hide the fact they were an angel and demon.

You explained how you've had these shapeshifting powers for a long time, being on the run since everyone thinks you're a "cursed child" or some monster that was once banished, wanting nothing more than to drive a sword through your heart.

When it's clear that neither Aziraphale nor Crowley have any intentions of hurting you....that's when you decided to stick with them.

It took them 20 years to realize you never aged, learning you're an immortal being in a teenager's body.

Your powers allow you to keep up with the times, disguising yourself as animals, people...or even angels and demons if your heart so desired.

Sometimes you'll turn into a snake much like Crowley's own snake form (although your scales have the color of your hair, ofc, so you're not 100% identical).

You haven't mastered turning just your head into a snake, however.

In the modern era, you enjoy being a nightingale after learning they were both fond of those birds, often singing in the bookshop out of boredom.

Although Crowley's fully aware you're not a demon, you got a spunky and rebellious personality and love getting up to mischief.

And he 100% encourages this (while poor Aziraphale's practically begging you to stay out of trouble).

But you're definitely on the angel's side anytime he compliments Crowley, who just snarls and denies ever doing something "nice" or "good".

You don't believe he's all that evil for even a moment.

While you're aware that they have to act like they despise each other bc they're on opposite sides...in your eyes, they behave so much like an old married human couple.

Aziraphale emphasizing "our car" when talking about the Bentley made you roll your eyes and joke about when the wedding's gonna start.

When Aziraphale returns to Heaven without Crowley, you realize that maybe your "marriage jokes" went a bit too far...even though neither of them blame you for their falling out.

Still, you feel bad bc you can tell Crowley was genuinely in love with him.

You overheard everything, and after his "no nightingales" remark, you're reluctant to shapeshift into one again out of fear of upsetting him.

Yet he asks you, too, as he couldn't bear the silence in the bookshop anymore...and listening to any of Aziraphale's music records would've been too painful for him.

You obliged, staying perched on his shoulder as he stared out the window for hours...hoping that his angel would come back to him.

You hoped so, too, waiting everyday by his side...until the end of time if you had to.

#clanask #anonymous #good omens x reader #good omens 2 spoilers #platonic #teen reader #shapeshifter reader #female reader #headcanons

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1-danid · 9 months

Text

(pt2) dating teen vi

dating arc one vi part two, you have both aged up to arc two!

part 1 here! Go read it love!

You worked at the bar almost for the most part of your job.

You get a lot of gossip and news whilst bartending, it’s shocking what people will tell a pretty bartender when they're drunk.

You're much better of a bartender than Thieram, bless him. And he sees you as a really good friend because Jinx doesn’t scare him as much when you're around.

Not you literally being everyone’s favourite.

Also you 100% get free drinks when you're at the bar, like Silco loves you enough to let you get that free booze.

You're Silco's inside man or woman in this case I guess.

If you're not busy as a bartender you’d 100% be Sevika’s go to dealer for any game she plays.

You don’t even have a choice she's dragging you with her and shoving a deck of cards in your hands.

If she wins shell get you something the next time she's out, if she loses its your fault (she's just a real sore loser and wants you to cheat in her favour)

You're 100% a fair dealer, but when Sevika wins almost every round people get angry at you for cheating. Sevika would beat them up for messing with you.

You're like a daughter to her, and even though she doesn’t show it all the time. SHe cares about you a lot more than Jinx. When you're not working the bar, you're definitely patching up Jinx.

Speaking of Jinx always comes to you for comfort and reassurance as you're the only family she has left, even though Powder died.

You've stuck with her and she appreciates it.

Jinx has improved so much and you're proud of her, and believe it or not you feel like you found another family with her and Silco.

Sometimes you'll cook dinners and bake treats for them when you're off, getting Markcus to buy you the supplies you need as you play with his daughter in Piltover.

He won't admit it but he's more petrified of you than Silco and Jinx combined.

You don't like to go on glimmer mission, they remind you of your old life but on the occasion that Jinx can convince you to go.

You're still a badass, even though you stick to defensive attacks (you could never hurt Ekko.) You're still a force to be reckoned with.

Sevika is much nicer to you than she is to Jinx, but that is likely because of your maturity and you never climbed on her back when she had to babysit you.

When Vi meets Caitlyn in prison, she recognises your initials on one of "Powder's" drawings.

Poor girl has only thought of you and her sister, in all her time in Stillwater she's realised that she loves you and she wanted to find you and tell you that.

So when Caitlyn gives her an opportunity to leave she takes it, if only to know that you and Powder are alive.

We all know Vi is a flirt and she does flirt with Caitlyn, the cupcake scene is a canon event. So when one of your girlfriends sees Vi she waits to see who this pretty girl is with her.

You get news of Vi before Jinx and Silco and leave on your own to clear your head, as your ex lover is proclaimed to be alive.

You're overcome with emotions like jealousy, heartbreak, fear and most of all anger (covers your sadness).

How could she be okay without you, you could barely go a day without thinking of her and the good times how could she move on? Why would she move on and forget about you?

However Jinx took you out of your hole of self pity and wallowing, and asks you to come find Vi with her. It's at that moment you remember the torch and agree, travelling to the top of Zaun to light the torch.

Throughout this Vi had fought Sevika, who was taunting her about how you and Jinx had moved on from her, (we don't talk about your last fling, it was embarrassing.) As Vi is about to be beaten, Caitlyn saves her and then continues to flirt, slowly but surely more and more people hear about Vi's reappearance.

However when you and Jinx light the torch you have hope. Vi was never one to break a promise and if it was to Powder at least.

You stood there anxious as you watches all the fuel dry up and burn from the flare torch.

You just needed to know if she was alive or dead, to know if she cared about you and her own sister.

You needed to know if she had replaced you.

A/N

And that’s where I'm ending this part! I have no idea if i'll make another part but that one anon gave me motivation for this. So here you guys go. Sorry if it's all over the place, I need to rewatch Arcane. It's a bit rusty in my head. I swear I'm working on my atsv requests. I just had this in the works for longer. Hope you enjoyed be sure to leave comments and reblog it!

Next fic publishing will be after i finish updating my wattpad book. No you will not get a link to my wattpad account.

#‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ dani writes ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵#‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ dani writes ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿#vi x fem reader #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #vi masterlist #arcane masterlist

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saddixie · 2 months

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Victoria’s legendary/mythical Pokémons.

Throughout her years of traveling and researching, Victoria had meet way to many legendaries/mythical pokemon for her to consider it to me normal, she stopped questioned it soon. Though she released most of them so they can go back to their natural habitat, some decided to stay…

Diancie

"Diancie isn't a pushover, so don't you dare mess with it or else you'll regret it."

Moves: Diamond storm, Moonblast, Iron defense, Power gem.

Ability: Clear body

Victoria was just trying to take photos of some Carbinks so she could surprise professor Sycamore when she saw Diancie being chased by a group of pokemon hunters.

After saving it, Diancie refused to leave Victoria's side, scared that the hunters will come back. Victoria allow it to stick nearby until she can capture a photo of some Carbinks. But after that was finish and Victoria tried to leave, Diancie still won't leave Victoria.

After some time of being conflicted, Victoria asked to capture Diancie to kept it safe from other pokemon hunters. Diancie agreed and was happily caught by Victoria, though the girl did notice it bringing a weirdly familiar stone after it was caught. Let's just say the Carbinks photos are not the only thing that surprises professor Sycamore that day.

Diancie is a very nice and princess like to the rest of the pokemons, but that doesn't mean it's a pushover. Victoria had taught it how to toughen up and allow it to spam Diamond storm if it ever find itself in a situation where some shady people was forcing it to make diamonds.

Diancie can also talk with other people with its telepathy, making it a bridge between the NRC students and pokemon after Victoria relaxed and began to have it out more often.

Zamazenta

"Thank you for helping me guard Ramshackle, Zamazenta. Now come here so I can brush your hair."

Moves: Iron head (Behemoth bash), Focus blast, Ice fang, Protect.

Ability: Dauntless Shield.

When chairman Rose release Eternatus much to Victoria's unamusement, Zamazenta along with its partner Zacian helped her and Hop stop it before leaving. Victoria thought everything was done until two weird guys with weird hair came in and ruin everything (seriously why do people always think it's ok to mess with legendaries).

After defeating a rampaging Zacian, Victoria was surprised that Zamazenta challenged her because usually the other legendaries only challenged her so she can borrow their power to fix something, but the issue has already fixed, does this means that it challenged her because it wants her to be its trainer? After Hop capture Zacian, Victoria decided to keep Zamazenta with her.

A gentle old soul that watches over her pokemons like a protector, Zamazenta will often herd Victoria's pokemons to their respective enclosure after dark, Victoria found it's oddly adorable with the way it nudges her Foongus with its nose back to its safe spot. Victoria will still pamper it even when it's a legendary pokemon, its favorite thing to do is have Victoria brush its very long fur.

It tolerates Crewel with his dog obsession.

Shaymin

"Shaymin? SHAYMIN!? WHERE ARE YOU?! NOT AGAIN!!"

Moves: Air slash, Seed flare, Dazzling gleam, Tail wind.

Ability: Natural Cure (land forme), Serene Grace (sky forme)

It all happened when Victoria was at a Gracidea meadow to study and collect them to sent back to her parents when she met a land form Shaymin who didn't follow the other Shaymins who are in their sky form that are migrating elsewhere.

She thought something was wrong with the pokemon so she bought it to nurse Joy to check it, thankfully it isn't hurt and it turns out that Shaymin just doesn't want to go with its herd anymore. The Shaymin lingers with Victoria instead and after a while, she caught it.

Shaymin is a cunning one despite its petite and innocent looks, it loves playing small pranks on the pokemon around it and even the trainer herself, but it usually apologize by nuzzling the people it teases.

Shaymin sometimes loves to escape from its home to explore nearby areas, thinking that Victoria could find it later on but forgetting that its small land form makes it hard to look for it, not to mention its green fur that matches the grass makes it even harder to look for.

Victoria swore Shaymin will give her gray hair before any of the end of the world scenarios does.

Ogerpon (female)

spoiler for the teal mask DLC so beware.

"I'm not sure that I can be better than your last partner, but I promise I will do my best to take care of you."

Moves: Ivy cudgel, Spikey shield, Superpower, Rock tomb.

Ability: Defiant (Teal Mask), Water Absorb (Wellspring Mask), Mold Breaker (Hearthflame Mask), Sturdy (Cornerstone Mask)

Befriending it in Kitakami village, Victoria found its story very sad. What do you mean its old partner was not only taken away by the Loyal Three (or Lousy three now that Carmine force her to say), but the village also isolate it because of a misunderstanding.

After getting back Ogerpon's three mask, Victoria was surprised when Kieran challenged her for Ogerpon's ownership. She tried to talk some sense into the boy, saying that Ogerpon belonged to no one and that she can choose who her trainer is, but Kieran doesn't listen, so with no choice, Victoria battled him for Ogerpon's freedom.

She's even more surprise when after she won, Ogerpon chose her to be its trainer. Although she felt quite guilty for Kieran, she can't take back her words of letting Ogerpon chose its own trainer so she caught it (with a friend ball of course).

The embodiment of a sunshine child, Ogerpon is always happy to be around people, she tries her best to cheer them up whenever they're sad. But she will also not hesitate to fight if her friends and trainers are hurt, she lost someone she cared before, she will not lose them again. Very powerful in battle with her intelligence and flexibility, Victoria utilized the masks she had a lot, Victoria also make sure to clean the masks frequently.

Miraidon

Minor pokemon violet spoiler.

"WAIT NO, MIRAIDON! BAD DRAGON! THE SANDWHICH ISN'T FINISHED-"

Moves: Electro drift, Parabolic charge, Draco meteor, Charge.

Ability: Hadron engine.

Saving it on the shore of a beach in Paldea with a sandwhich, Victoria has now officially adopt a dragon motorcycle-

After the whole ordeal with professor Turo, Victoria kept Miraidon as a promise to take care of it to the AI professor. Now Miraidon is her main ride pokemon, it can run fast, run on water, climb mountains, fly- so Victoria pampers it alot, to the point where it becomes kinda spoil.

Unfortunately, Miraidon is quite a glutton, especially for sandwiches, it sometimes gets impatient and snatches the unfinished sandwhich that Victoria is making for it, making the trainer had to do a round tug of war to get the sandwhich back.

Because Victoria doesn't travel much anymore when she got to Twisted wonderland, Miraidon will be usually seen lazing around and sun bathe alone outside of Ramshackle, sometimes it will hang out with the other pokemon, but it prefers to be by itself most of the time.

Doesn't really like fighting and engaging in combat so it prefers to stay on the side, but if it is put in a dead end or saw that its trainer got hurt, p r a y.

Still very affectionate towards people, it will lick the people it likes and covered them with its spit. Gross, but adorable.

Meloetta

"Thank you for calming the pokemon down in these times, Meloetta."

Moves: Relic song, Close combat, Psyshock, Disarming voice.

Ability: Serene Grace.

While Victoria was traveling, she found a Meloetta getting captured by shady people, it was struggling so she saved it right away.

Victoria is aware of the power that Meloetta hold and understand why it was being hunted, so after she treated its wounds, she decided to contact some pokemon rangers to retrieve it to safety.

The pokemon ranger told her to head to their base but it's quite a long way, so for a while, Victoria and Meloetta travel together. Meloetta can sense the stress that Victoria has while dealing with team Plasma at the time, so it would sing to calm her down.

When they got to the pokemon ranger's base, Meloetta is completely attached to Victoria. The ranger that had call her told her that maybe she should kept it safe instead because of how attached Meloetta is to her during their journey.

Like Diancie, Meloetta is trained to protect itself by Victoria as she doesn't want to restrict its freedom, especially when it likes to sing to people and pokemon that are in distress to calm them down.

When Victoria got transported to Twisted wonderland, she and her pokemon became more stressed in this new environment, so Meloetta took the task of relaxing them with its song.

Is often seen with Victoria's Primarina having a duet, the two of them seem to get along well.

Meloetta doesn't resort to fighting when in a conflict, so it would usually sing to calm the oppnent down or run away by turning invisible.

#pokemon oc #pokemon #twisted wonderland #pokemon x twisted wonderland #twst x pokemon #twisted oc #pokemon x twst #twisted wonderland x pokemon

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 4 months

Text

10 BL Boys That I Want "Carnally"

aka The Horny List

I was tagged by @my-rose-tinted-glasses @twig-tea @rocketturtle4 and @nieves-de-sugui 🤍 Thank you so much! And sorry I am late to the game! I am lying down with a cold right now... what means I had a little time to think about this list and to respect my own weak heart for bad boys and puppy guys... The heart wants what the heart wants...

Starting the list with one of the softest and warmest bad boys out there right now:

Mhok from Last Twilight

He stole my heart from the beginning and never gave it back. I guess he will keep it for eternity. And that is totally fine! He has the biggest heart and is the biggest green flag disguised as a red flag that is walking the bl-world right now. I love how he looks at Day, how he takes care for him and how he slowly fell for him.

I guess the second one doesn't come as a surprise when you look at my profle pic:

Boeing from Only Friends

He is just sex on a stick and I am still mad that he got introduced so late into the show. He would have been so much fun to watch destroying the whole "friend group" piece by piece. I would have watched such a show. Well I guess I would watch a show in which he just leans out of the pool like that for 40 minutes straight and I wouldn't be mad...

On third we have our first couple, because one doesn't work without the other:

DongWook and DoHyun from A Breeze Of Love

I was so freaking happy seeing those two wanting each other. Those two were in love with each other, not just on an emotional level but on a physical level attracted to each other and the series didn't hide it! It is my favorite bl of this year and the mutual attraction played into it. And those two are just two lost puppies who wants to love and be loved and urgh! I love them!

Going on to an old crush of mine:

Forth from 2 Moons 2

Yes, it is mostly Pavel, but I really liked this soft bad boy with this rascal hair cut and the tattoos. I loved his whole character and yes in the end I am just a weak girl, because look at him!

One character I wish I could drag out of the screen and keep as my own little prince of his stupid white horse:

Yai from I Feel You Linger In The Air

He is one of the prettiest men I ever saw and his puppy eyes with which he is looking at Jom and the soft voice whenever he says his name were making me weak in the knees. He is a total romantic and just wants to love and be loved in return. He is the perfect gentleman and loyal till the end. He needs a strong partner at his side to be the best version of himself and when he dances, the whole world stops for a moment.

Coming to a very much new pic for me and it is a pairing again:

Naoki and Yamashiro from Kiss x Kiss x Kiss: Love ii Shower

I mean Naoki looked like a greek god and Yamashiro was just so sensual in this short episode. I have to confess, I couldn't find a version with subtitles, so I don't know exactly what they were talking about, but in the end, did I really care that much, especially when they started using a language I could understand very good? No, not really. Sometimes I just like looking at beautiful people kissing each other.

One of my long-lasting loves:

Mark from Love Mechanics

I adore War. I love him so much and I am going feral when Jack & Joker really comes real next year. He has one of the best faces out there. He looks good crying and being evil and of course laughing. And Mark was such a lost puppy prick and Vee treated him really shitty for most of the times, but because I love Vee too, I can't be too hard on him. But Mark, I want to give him a hug... everytime all the time!

And on we go with another recent catch for my eyes:

Phaya from The Sign

He is such a flirt and he makes it very clear that he likes Tharn and I love that for us. He is one of the people I want to be hold in their arms just like Tharn here. I can't wait for those two to finally give in to their feelings! And for the mystical plot to unfold itself more, because I really want to know what is going on! And I want those two to save each other.

The next one is called Papi Chulo on TikTok and I can see why:

Sailom from Wedding Plan

The series might not be the best one out there and Papi Chulo might be frustrating for some people, but I loved them both! Lom is such a treat and for most of the times I understand why he acted like he did. And after he came clean with Namnuea he was the best boyfriend/fiancé. And he has one of the best smiles out there and such a cute mole!

Closing this list with the one character I am going feral at the moment whenever he is on screen:

Prom from Playboyy

He has this pure lust in his eyes whenever he looks at Nont and I love it. I don't know if I would trust Prom, but be sure if this man wants to put on a mask and punish me in his basement I would let him... He is one of my guilty pleasures right now and I would watch the series just for him and his fucked up relationship with Nont.

This was fun! I am so late to the game, I am not tagging anyone, because I know many have done it already and I don't want to double tag :) But if you see this and want to do it yourself, feel free to make your own list and tag me, so I can have a look at your picks 😊

#tag game #tag bl game #multi bl #last twilight #only friends #a breeze of love #2 moons 2 #i feel you linger in the air #Kiss x Kiss x Kiss: Love ii Shower #love mechanics #the sign the series #wedding plan #playboyy

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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months

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jealous/clingy spot/johnathon headcannons?

Jealous and Clingy hcs for Jonathan/Spot!

Knocking this out before I take a nap (eepy <\3)! Usually I would split this into 2 sections buuuuut since I think there wasnt much change in this department I'm not gonna bother!!

So!! Yeah!!

Fair warning that this will probably be OOC and/or have mistakes since I'm eepy but I'm too stubborn to leave this for later ☝️😔

This ones gonna be on the shorter side, maybe

Idk I write these opening/author notes before + as I'm writing

Starting off Jonathan is.

Whoooboy!

Like he tries not to be toxic about it, he doesn't want to hurt you or drive you away, and that sentiment is still there even after he becomes spot

He doesn't have many friends and he'll never forgive himself if he makes you leave

What he needs is loads of reassurance that you only have eyes for him, and communication is key! Let him know when you're going to be late or going to hang out with someone for a bit; if he sees you with someone else, or another *guy* it'll eat him up all day

Though sometimes he can still jump to conclusions so arguments are inevitable every now and then but again, communication and patience is key; he'll never go as far as to accuse you of cheating though (unless he truly has reason to suspect)

He doesn't think hes the prettiest, or nicest, or smartest, or-

I mean of all people, you chose him?

He feels lucky to have you, but he believes you can do so much better than him and that thought is constantly plaguing his mind

Not very self assured tbh

After the collider incident his self image issues get way way WAY worse; from the fact he can hardly consider himself human, to his new powers, to the fact everyone from his old life dropped him

Except, for you

You stayed

Through it all the fact you stuck around does give him comfort, more so than if you were to meet him after the collider incident

Its one thing to meet him as spot

But I feel its another to see and know how he was before, as just Jonathan, and to still stick around after his life was flipped upside down

His jealousy still spikes up every now and then

As a side thing I feel like as Jonathan he liked having you in his sight and, if possible, he liked holding your hand. Think of it as a "you're still here, you're here for me, you're not going anywhere and you love me," sort of thing

As spot that turns into him wanting to be even closer to you anytime he has the chance

The whole "oh I'm not the most (x)" thing REALLY amps up when he becomes spot, especially in the beauty department

Remind him that you dont mind the holes, shower him in affection

Overall it's going to be a while until hes confident in himself, both as Jonathan and as Spot

So please be patient with him, but remember to set clear boundaries for the relationship! I feel like with a lot of hc lists for insecurity and jealousy stuff, boundaries are hardly touched up on!! No hate to those writing like that and not including it but I feel like its important to stress that the other partner has the right to enforce their own things

Though that might be because when I was younger, jealous hcs were more... yandere-esque or getting REAL close to it, and it kinda. Made me think that was normal and desirable and okay in relationships so

Idk maybe that's just that part of me wanting to prevent that from happening to someone else

With that aside, ultimately Jonathan/Spot will try his best to not get too intense or pushy or controlling; again, he loves you, and he doesn't want to love you

#atsv #the spot x reader #the spot #spot x reader #atsv spot #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader #x reader #spiderverse

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audhd-nightwing · 1 year

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punk steve is suddenly trending so i'm bringing him back with a timeline of events

summer of 1981, right before his freshman year begins, steve discovers punk.

it happens like this: a motorcycle gang drives through Hawkins and steve is absolutely mesmerized. he's sitting alone in the local diner when they all pull up and pile in, wearing denim, leather, spikes and chains. they're loud, rowdy, and unapologetically themselves, and steve has never been more awed and jealous in his life.

they take up three whole tables but are extremely kind to the waitresses and clean up after themselves, seeming to be genuinely good people (which steve doesn't see very often- or ever- in the rich suburbs of Hawkins).

he can't help but stare at them, mouth hanging open in pure wonderment. he's never seen anyone like these people before, yet he feels a sort of… kinship with them.

thanking whatever higher power there may be that his parents are away and not here to watch or berate him, steve leaves a generous tip and walks over to the table nervously. he plays with the hem of his polo, feeling kind of stupid for wearing it when these guys dress so cool.

as he approaches the table, a few of the guys notice him and the conversation lulls, obviously curious why some preppy 13 year old is walking over to them. steve swallows nervously and stands at the head of the table, forcibly keeping himself still despite the need he feels to just move. steve opens his mouth to try to speak, but nothing comes out- the words are stuck in his throat. the men continue to watch him curiously and steve feels himself flush with embarrassment- why can't he just talk?

he clears his throat and tries again, avoiding eye contact and gripping the hem of his shirt so tight that his knuckles turn white.

“i- i- uh. i think- i really- i really like your clothes!" he rushes out, stumbling over his words.

"and, and, and you're just. you're just really cool so i uh. wanted to. to tell you that. i guess," he rambles, head ducked down in embarrassment because he can't get himself to shut up.

without looking up, shame curling in his gut, steve stutters out an apology and turns to leave before a hand claps down on his shoulder. he flinches away instantly, locking eyes with an older, softer looking man with concern lining his features. he pulls his hand away slowly, like steve is a spooked wild animal, and gestures to an empty chair next to him.

"wanna stick with us before we head out?" he asks softly. steve feels a familiar burn behind his eyes so he just nods and sits down, biting on his thumbnail as he looks around the table when the other guys introduce themselves.

steve learns they follow a 'punk' lifestyle, and is immediately fascinated. they spend the rest of their meal telling steve about punk culture and music, animatedly recalling stories, and writing down names of bands and stores he should check out sometime.

by the time he gets home, steve has decided that he's going to be a punk and no one can stop him.

#punk steve au #punk steve #punk steve harrington #stranger things au #stranger things #steve harrington #autistic steve harrington #punk #punk culture #au timeline #baby punk steve harrington

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wandringaesthetic · 7 months

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OVERTHINKING 30 SECONDS OF ALUCARD CASTLEVANIA:

I deliberately spoiled myself for whether he would be showing up before I started watching because I didn't want to disappoint myself if he didn't. So I saw this screenshot out of context and was like "no, put him back." He looks a bit too smooth and cherubic. Doll-like and a bit too feminine.

In context it's not so bad, in profile the change isn't so drastic and I think it's more that they have him exceedingly pale and that flattens out all of his shading than that they changed his facial shape much. Some of this is also just the slight difference in art style. Lines are lighter and more sketchy here and we don't have as much dark dark shading.

I expected that he would probably have white/gray hair a la Symphony of the Night and he does. A lot of the Ayame Kojima artwork he looks more pale blond but I most people playing the game interpret that sprite as having gray or white hair.

Also like Symphony of the Night, he's got a cravat. All laced up to the chin versus loose, low necked shirt or walking shirtless scene in Series 1

I always guessed that they had his first appearance like this to confirm beyond a doubt that the long haired pretty person was male so foreign language markets wouldn't be tempted to change his gender. And also I guess let's show off that scar.

ANYWAY. I always interpreted Alucard's silvery SotN hair as an expression of age/weariness/grief. He's canonically been taking a dirt nap for a while, right? An expression of the fact (?) that he hasn't been feeding. Homeboy is anemic.

By the way, it's never really made clear in Castlevania the animation whether Alucard needs to drink blood. I always assumed that he did at least sometimes. In part, because of this:

He has a confidence here that says to me that this is not the first time he has lunged after someone's throat.

Also it looks like the coffin apparatus he rises out of when he's introduced is feeding him blood somehow.

[He also eats food obviously, from his foraging and cooking montages in S3. my fanon interpretation of this is that he needs some of both but not as much blood as a full vampire would need and not as much food as a full human would need. He can survive a long time (probably a very very long time) without either but he'd suffer for it]

Some Castlevania vampires have more inhuman features than others. I'm speculating on this being more true the more old/powerful the vampire. Drolta's black sclera, Dracula's ridiculous height, Olrox's glowing eyes, etc. So the white/silver hair (and the 'is he glowing or is he REALLY white' complexion) might be an expression of Alucard aging and coming into his powers. Because a lot of our Castlevastle vampires are paper white but not all.

Him being laced to the chin versus tits out implies a more closed personality. Maturity, perhaps. Less emotional and sexual availability.

(In the first season he just woke up so you can't blame him for not wearing a shirt. In season 4 the shirtlessness is a Choice.)

I would say "please, someone fuck this man" but we all know how that went.

IIRC, in games canon he went immediately to sleep after Castlevania III and then didn't wake up until Symphony of the Night. This implies some self hatred and maybe depression. Feeling like you're something that shouldn't exist but being unable to easily self terminate and/or sticking around just in case you need to fight a monster worse than you.

Animated Alucard doesn't seem to have that level of self hatred. In series 1, he seems to identify more as a vampire than as a human (his comment about being less than excited about the Belmont hold because it's a museum dedicated to the extermination of his people) and doesn't seem to think that existing as a vampire is wrong in and of itself. In fact he seems to have some pride in vampires as preservers of knowledge even after the events of season 2. ALSO, his relationship with his father seems more positive in the animation than in the games. In the animation, he loves and respects his father up until the point he decides to exterminate all humans. In the games it seems like that father son relationship was more fraught and possibly more distant.

HOWEVER. If his kill count really is in the thousands, that makes me believe that not only has he been awake most of the last 300 years, he's spent most of that time killing vampires and that he may have started killing vampires generally rather than just those making problems. Even if he hasn't come to the conclusion of "all vampires must die and then when I have finished my grim work I shall die too" if he has been hunting and killing vampires for SO LONG he has to have started seeing them, and the parts of himself that are like them, as the problem.

I don't love that kind of moral absolutism, but. In Castlevania we have (correct me if I'm wrong) two morally ambiguous vampires (Dracula and Olrox) and the rest are evil. Castlevania the animation seems to not come down on the side that vampires are soulless monsters, but the overwhelming majority are evil. I think it would go against the series core to argue that vampires aren't people or can't be good people, or that you get one choice and that determines your whole life and impact on the world going forward (how Christian of you--also, a lot of them didn't get a choice!) But the fact remains that vampires have a strong incentive to view human beings as not really being people.

Alucard MIGHT be choosing to abstain from blood and that MIGHT be why he's so pale he glows. Drink your juice, Alucard. Take care of yourself.

I don't love the idea of Alucard being so self hating because I love him and I want what's best for him, but I have to admit that this kind of self hatred is what makes Symphony of the Night Alucard and most notable dhampir characters compelling. A monster fighting worse monsters. A cursed, bastard existence that nonetheless gives you great power. Choosing to do good even though you yourself are damned. Being constantly on the verge of a fall, of awful temptation, of becoming the thing you hunt. Fighting for a world that has no place for you in it.

LASTLY. As a Trephacard shipper. In animation canon he probably AT LEAST stayed awake for more or less a human lifetime. With Sypha and Trevor, in whatever capacity. Undeniably, he loved them. But there are ways that might contribute to the self hatred. It would have distanced him from the vampire part of his identity. I keep thinking of the fact that Trevor corrects Alucard ONCE when he refers to Dracula as "my father" and Alucard refers to him as "Dracula" for the rest of the series. I keep thinking about him staring at the cabinet of vampire skulls in the Belmont hold and Trevor and Sypha both seeming to not really notice. It would be tempting to minimize or fight against that part of his identity. He might feel like he has no place with them if he doesn't.

(AND THAT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE FACT THAT DRAC IS ALIVE NOW. I have no idea how they're going to choose to deal with that, but I have trouble imagining Alucard and Dracula having a positive relationship going forward. That might even contribute to Alucard feeling like he had to choose.)

#Castlevania #Castlevania nocturne #alucard #alucard castlevania #castlevania nocturne spoilers #here it is here's The Post

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countryrebel1995 · 7 months

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I didn't want to have to make this post, I've seen enough shipping drama on Tumblr over the years that I usually steer clear of it, but there’s been so much Nooshy bashing in the tags lately that I feel compelled to weigh in on it.

Why do people like Nooshy? Well, to put it simply, even though she’s never the center of attention in "Sing 2", Nooshy manages to be a girl with layers, and there's a lot to appreciate about her. When we're first introduced to her, she's a street performer so she can make the money that she needs to survive, but she’s also genuinely passionate about her craft - she loves to dance - and she enjoys getting a chance to share that passion with someone else whenever they come along.

While she can be snarky and prickly and slow to trust strangers, she’s also very nice once you get to know her. After a young turtle kid almost screws up her performance, she's still very playful and accommodating towards him. When she’s brought backstage to the Crystal theater, she compliments some dude's hat just to make him feel good about himself. While she initially agrees to help Johnny because he offers to pay her, she starts to stick up for him and genuinely support him, because the way Klaus treats him isn't right. She decides to help the Moon Theater troupe put on their big show, even though she's only known these people for about a week and their plan will surely be very dangerous, because the way Jimmy Crystal treats them isn't right either and she wants to help them stick it to the man. After Johnny tells her that he and his family used to be a gang of notorious criminals, Nooshy never judges them for their shady past, and is actually quite happy to see how close he and his father are now (especially since it's implied that she might not even have parents herself). And during "A Sky Full Of Stars", she encourages Johnny to never give up and follow his heart, because he's her friend and she wants to see him succeed.

Nooshy is snarky and mischievous, but underneath it all, she's actually a very kind girl, and very loyal towards the people who earn her respect. And by the end of "Sing 2", she gets her happy ending when she not only gets a new paying career doing what she loves, but also finds a place where she belongs among the Moon Theater troupe.

The reason why I just went off on that rather long tangent, dissecting her character, is to drive home the point that Nooshy has done nothing in the canon films to warrant the way people talk about her sometimes.

I've seen people insult everything about her and her fans for shipping reasons, because they see her as a threat to their preferred ships (even though she and Johnny are not even canonically a couple by the end of "Sing 2"). And there's a real double standard when it comes to this too, because no other character who's been shipped with Johnny over the years gets this kind of treatment. Meena doesn't, Ash doesn't, Ryan doesn't (even though the claim that Nooshy haters sometimes make - that people only like her as one half of a ship - could just as easily be said about him).

And this is really nothing new. Characters getting trash-talked over shipping wars is a tale as old as time when it comes to fandoms, and people are entitled to their opinions. The reason why I made this post is because lately, the Nooshy bashing is starting to cross a line.

Over the last few months, I've been seeing a growing number of comments complaining about people including Nooshy in their fanart. I've also been seeing a growing number of posts outright insulting people who like Nooshy or like to ship her with Johnny, saying that they're stupid and shallow and should just go away because they’re a blight on the fandom.

How about no.

In a fandom, people are allowed to like whatever character they like, or ship whatever couple they like, so long as they're not hurting anyone. If you hate Nooshy so much that you can't stand seeing any fanart of her or fanfics of her, because you don't want to be reminded that she exists, then I'm sorry but you're either just going to have to deal with that or stop engaging with the parts of the fandom where people want to appreciate her. Because quite frankly, your hatred for this character is no one else’s problem except your own and people are not going to stop liking her just for your benefit.

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darklinaforever · 7 months

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Things that annoy me and that I sometimes come across while reading Tentoorose fanfictions :

- Saying that Tentoo's parents are Ten and Donna. (No. The closest Tentoo can get to Donna in terms of DNA is a brother, completing the brother-sister relationship he had with her when he was still Ten. And Ten can't be Tentoo's father, simply because he's the same person, coming from the same source of regenerative energy making the Doctor who he is)

- Rose who, as soon as an old complicated memory from the time of their travels in the Tardis is mentioned, tells Tentoo that he has nothing to reproach himself for, because it wasn't really him... (So no. Tentoo is the same person as Ten having experienced the same things. He is not a clone or a copy with the memories. Same person, once again, because he comes from the source of regeneration)

- Whether the terms clones or copies are used to designate Tentoo in the narration or on the part of Rose. (So once again : bullshit ! Do you really think that Rose, who spent years trying to find the doctor, would be satisfied with less than the doctor himself ?! That she would have just taken a "copy" or a "clone", when she was ready to give up everything for him ? I often see people acting as if Rose was an unintelligent companion, when in reality she is extremely intelligent. She, at least, understood the principle of basic regeneration. It's so out of character to have her say that in fanfiction...)

- That Tentoo himself doubts being the doctor, or says that he is not really him. (The gif speaks for itself)

- To say that Rose couldn't make a real choice and that Ten and Tentoo just chose for her. (So... yes, Ten tried to put her in this situation, and Tentoo clearly wanted to stay with Rose and knew what Ten was doing because even no one. Except that in the end, by kissing Tentoo Rose had made her choice. She fucking chose it ! Also... Did you see the way she looks at him and sticks him in the Tardis ? It is very clear that Rose chose of her own free will)

- That Rose is incapable of truly accepting Tentoo. (Again... bullshit. We're talking about the girl who considers Pete from the alternate world to be her father, even though he's not her real father. Why would she be incapable of accepting a human regeneration of the doctor ? Especially since it contradicts the ending, where she clearly understood what Tentoo was, the same way she understood that Ten was the same person as Nine, and then chose him accordingly)

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