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sinsofsummers · 11 months

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cool about it

3.4k | boston!joel miller x f!reader

summary: it’s that day again. you don’t know why joel’s so withdrawn, but you help him manage it in the best way you know how. based on 'cool about it' by boygenius. warnings: angst angst angst, angsty smut (sorry), 18+, mdni, implied age gap (joel 50s, reader late 20s) grumpy & sad joel, drug use, alcohol use, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, shoulder kisses, pet names & slight praise, body worship kind of, feelings but also joel is bad at feelings, established...situationship. thing. pining (but don't tell them that). romance?? how dare you accuse them of such treachery note: i am so sorry...this is pure unbridled self-indulgence. pls forgive me. also this is set in boston qz, reader and joel have a similar relationship to the one he has with tess, but she doesn't exist in this au (i'm so sorry). also i am kind of so proud of this one

It's been years since you met him, since you've begun to crack his otherwise hard exterior, helping him shed every icy layer to reveal the tired, aging man beneath it all. You've both gone to unbelievable lengths to protect one another against any trouble, or enemy, or plague, that has cast itself in your way. Each night concludes with your limbs tangled together, hands tucked safely within each other's reach. A promise, so quiet it's hardly binding—I've got you.

You've never defined exactly what it means when he calls you sweet pea, or when his lips drop a chaste kiss to your forehead in the morning, or when his hand lingers on your elbow a little longer than normal in the QZ. It never needed to mean anything, so the two of you never spoke about it. You belong to him; he belongs to you.

And yet, every year, on the exact same morning, Joel Miller wakes up a stranger to you. His eyes return to the icy dark depths that you met him with, and his hands find purchase in his pockets rather than absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin. Every year, without fail, he retreats to his past, a place he won't ever let you see, despite your every wish.

i came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

A few years after you met him, you had tried asking him to explain, to let you into his head. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, or a vulnerability that resembled anything that you hadn't seen from him before, but he'd done nothing more than shake his head.

"M'fine," he'd said. The entire day, every time you asked, no matter how softly, his answer remained unchanged. "Don't feel much like talkin'."

So instead of talking, you'd resorted to letting him come back to you on his own time, in his own way. With rough hands pushing you down to lay on your back, his eyes far away even as he brought you to the edges of bittersweet ecstasy. His kisses were always softer, more distracted. But it was the only communication you ever got out of him on those days.

When he rolled over at night, his hands curled into loose fists, you let him be. He never refused your touch, but you knew enough to recognize when it wouldn't come as any comfort to him. Not on those nights. Never on those nights.

The closest you'd get to falling asleep in his arms on those nights was with a hand placed purposefully between your chest and his back, just close enough that he might lean into it, should he shift in his sleep. And in those soft brushes of skin against cloth lay a million questions.

Forgive me, you'd begged inwardly one night. Forgive me for not understanding, and I'll forgive you for not sharing.

When the sun rose on a new morning, he was always back to the man you were used to, that you had grown dependent on. When his hands reached for you, and when his mouth painted swirls on your chest, you knew that it was out of want for you, not to distract himself from the ghosts of his own past.

He always praised your body's reaction to him, and you always relished in the way that his hips rocked against yours, stretching you out for him—tongue, fingers, his hard intrusion—on those mornings after.

You'd left it at that, for a year or two.

once i took your medication to know what it's like

He'd been resorting to more intense solutions when you decided to do it. When that day came as it always did, you watched as he drowned out the hours with whiskey and pills. You never knew where his supply came from or who was responsible for getting him his drug of choice; you could only sit idly by and watch his features droop from the effects of the dangerous combination, shuffling to your shared bed before he'd pass out until the sun rose on the next morning.

It only took three instances of this before you'd resolved to go through the day exactly as he would, as if it might help you understand. Perhaps it wasn't anything you were meant to understand, but you'd grown weary of seeing him motionless for hours on end. Usually, you never said anything. You didn't really believe he would take enough to cause any real damage; you were blindly faithful in his will to live.

"Joel," you'd said one year. That was all. One syllable, so familiar, and yet it bled with enough warning in your tone that he paused. Don't.

Glass raised, the rim already pressed to his lips—the lips of which you knew every crack and curve—pills already dissolving on his tongue, he'd paused. His eyes never looked at you, though. He sat there, frozen but for the whiskey sloshing gently in the glass before he resumed, swallowing the dark liquid in one go. With hardly a glance in your direction, he'd collapsed to the bed.

You didn't know exactly why you did it, or why it had been that year that you'd become fed up, but you couldn't ignore the fear that struck your chest when you saw him hit the mattress. Before you knew it, you'd swallowed the pills, scowling at the burn of whiskey down your throat.

It had never been your choice of liquor, but you braved the sting in your foolish hopes that it might tell you something about the gray-haired man in your bed. Like drinking his whiskey might envelope you in his arms and whisper his secrets to you.

Laying down beside him, you'd curled up to his side. He was already deep in his drugged slumber; he wouldn't be conscious enough to move from your touch. With a hand on his chest, poised over his heart to reassure yourself that he still had one, you closed your eyes and succumbed to the heavy press of sleep.

When he woke, saw your own empty glass and pill bottle left open on the table, he shook you until you startled awake. Eyes bleary, the effects of the drugs wearing off, you caught him staring down at you, his nose brushing your cheek and his lips a hair's breadth from touching yours.

"Don't ever fuckin' do that again, sweet pea," he snarled, but his words held no malice. You tried to ignore how big his eyes were, pupils blown wide.

You'd wanted to snap at him, to tell him the same thing, but you heard the desperate begging in his voice. The unspoken please. So rather than causing a scene, you'd nodded slowly and let your fingers brush the hem of his shirt. "Okay," you'd whispered. "I won't. Never again, Joel," you repeated, a mantra as you slipped your hands underneath his shirt.

Sliding his arms under your body and pulling you to him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, both of your eyelids. He finally bent to your lips, chasing the taste of you and finding only his own mistakes on your tongue.

The day had passed. He had survived. With the gentle lull of his hips slotting against your own, he had breathed shakily into your mouth as your hands wandered along his skin. Like clockwork, Joel Miller had returned to you, if only for a short while.

i ask you how you're doing, and i let you lie

One day, the pills ran out. The whiskey didn't do anything on its own, so Joel was stuck to find something else to distract him. Whether you were the one that flushed his pills or found who was supplying him, you'd never admit. It was much too close to a confession of something than either of you were comfortable with, so you'd stayed quiet. Helped him find a new vice.

These days, you've lost count of how many years you've seen him withdraw into himself, a shell of the man you know. You've stopped trying to follow where his mind goes when the sun rises on that early autumn day, and he's never made the attempt to explain. For just one day a year, the two of you are silent except for a few mumbled words. Your hands rarely touch on those days, always a few centimeters from each other as he sits at the table.

A reminder. That you're there, that he's there, and that the day will pass. It always does.

His new vice becomes you before long, and you can manage that. He's never particularly rough on those days, anyway; he just needs your body to distract his mind. It takes him a bit to sink into the comfort of your curves, but you always help him get there. Until he's twitching under your hands and letting his eyes flutter closed as you expertly undo his jeans.

You never make him fuck you when he's like this, but you're happy to oblige when he slips a hand between your thighs, reaching for your core and always finding it ready for him. If it pleases him, you let him take whatever he needs.

With whispered moans that make your chest constrict and rough fingers pressing bruises to your hips that he'll kiss away the next morning, he gets through the day.

Today, you know it's not one of those mornings. He's already been awake for a while when you open your eyes, based on his tense posture as he sits on the edge of the bed. He's facing the window, which means his back is to you, withholding his face from yours.

Of course, you don't need to look at him to know what his face will look like. His chin is tucked toward his chest, and his eyes will be closed, hands clenched together as if in prayer. But you know better than to think of Joel Miller as a spiritual man. Whatever faith he might have had all those years ago has withered into scraps. His only faith is in your constant presence in his bed each night.

You sit up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets makes him twitch his head to the side, the sight of his jaw ticking the only acknowledgement of you being there. With slow movements, you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his hips but never close enough to touch. He's gotten better at allowing for a few more moments of contact, and you think this means he's making progress.

How could you ever be sure, though? When he still won't reveal the pain of today?

"Did you wake up to see the sunrise?" you ask gently, leaning forward and bracing your hands in front of you, waiting. His response will determine how you'll distract him for the coming hours.

As usual, Joel doesn't say anything, but his back reclines an inch. It's all you need.

"I'll bet it was real pretty," you continue, trying to keep your voice soft. This is one of your many routines; you lift your hands and press them to his back, just enough for him to feel your fingertips. You don't know if he listens to anything you say, or if he even cares. This part is just for you. This is how you get through these days.

You lean just a bit further, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. Your hands slide around his middle and your stomach flips selfishly at the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your featherlight touch. Reaching down for his lap, you rest your palm against his jeans, feeling him twitch against your hand. There he is.

Maybe it's sad, maybe it's fucked up, but fuck what anyone else would say. This is what he needs, the only thing that helps him stay out of his nightmarish memories, whatever they may be. You'll never ask him to show that side of himself, not anymore.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you deftly work the button on his jeans, pushing the zipper down and reaching into his waistband until his half-hard cock comes free. It rests heavy in your hand, and you're comforted by the weight of it. His shoulders are too broad for you to see it, but you're not bothered by this. With another kiss, this one landing on the soft skin of his neck, you give him a languid stroke.

Joel's chest rises and falls as he breathes, and you can feel his arousal stirring as he grows firmer in your grip. His hands begin to unclench, but his fingers remain flat on his tights, never touching you outside of where your legs are hooked to his, your chest flush with his back.

The room is silent except for his breathing, every second getting more shallow. You can feel the tension in his back release a little, and you let your thumb rub a slow circle over the slit on his tip, precum just starting to leak onto your hand.

You stay like this for a few minutes, one arm wrapped around his stomach and your other hand on his cock, tugging slow enough not to overwhelm him, and fast enough to keep him pulsing in your hand.

Only when his hips buck involuntarily do you let go, moving from your place behind him to the floor. Your knees hit the wood hard, but you ignore the pain as your hands slide up his thighs.

His own hands remain still on his jeans, and he lets you interlock your fingers with his own. A small mercy. Today might not be as bad as the years before, and you dip your head to lick a stripe from base to tip before closing your mouth around the head of his cock.

Joel's fingers twitch in your grasp, and you squeeze back, hardly noticeable. Just enough to act as thanks. Thank you for letting me do this. For you.

You never look up, afraid of what his eyes will betray when your mouth is around him. You know this is only a distraction, a slow respite from his thoughts. So you ignore the impatient pulse between your thighs and take him as deep as he'll go, your hopes lifting when you hear his shaky sighs.

One of his hands released yours and lands on your head, smoothing your hair as his hips fight to keep still. Your head bobs up and down, your spit mixing with his precum to leave a shining mess on his shaft.

He pats your head softly, the wet sounds of your mouth on him the only noise in the room. But then he's opening his mouth, and he's combing his fingers through your hair, and he's mumbling, "thank you, sweet pea," just quiet enough that you think you're imagining it.

Maybe you did. He doesn't say it again, and you don't look up to see how wrecked he looks. You're content to remain on your knees the entire day if it means he can relax, let go of whatever's haunting him.

But then he's pulling your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. Hands under your arms, he tugs you to stand in front of him. This time you do let yourself look at him, but his eyes don't lift to meet yours. He tugs your shorts and panties from your body, and once you step out of them he splays his hands on the backs of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.

His head is still tipped toward where your bodies rest against each other, rocking your pelvis against the length of his cock with a shuddering sigh. But you don't mind the view; you sit just a few inches taller than him in this position, so you can brace yourself against his shoulders, your chin resting against the top of his head.

He reaches down to rub a few quick circles on your clit, and you let him move your hips when he's ready, lodging his cock at your entrance. You're dripping, you have been this entire time, but you'd shoved down the heady desire that had punched its way through your body until he was ready. Now, with his hand guiding his tip into your sopping cunt, you let out a breath. There he is, a voice in your head repeats.

He pushes your hips down at an agonizingly slow pace, your pussy swallowing every inch of him, the sounds of your moans colliding at the feeling. "So good to me," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your sternum and tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Perfect."

You know that he doesn't think he deserves your praise, but you give it to him anyway. "That's it," you hum, squirming with his cock buried to the hilt. It's all you can do not to lift your hips and drag yourself up and down his length. "Take what you need, Joel."

He never lasts long when he can feel your walls squeezing his cock for all it's worth, your body betraying you when your mind just wants to remain warm and wet and ready for him all day long, until he's ready to be done with you. But with one look at you, his dark eyes finally connecting to yours, he blinks. "Thank you, sweat pea," he murmurs again.

You lift your thumb to his forehead and you trace the lines on his weathered skin, watching as your touch releases the tension from his face. All that's left is his desire, his need for you, however distracted it may be.

Joel lets himself enjoy this, as he rocks his hips into yours, the head of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you until you're shaking in his hands, forehead tipped against his as you let your moans fill the space between the two of you. He lifts your hips, pulling you nearly all the way off of him until he shoves you back down, the delicious squelch of your pussy on his cock wrenching a knee-buckling groan from his lips. "Where?" he asks, as he does every time.

You don't need to tell him, but you do. "Fill me up, Joel," you coo, a shot of pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Come with me, I'm right here with you."

"That's it, darlin'," is all he groans before he's wrapping his arms around your back, tugging your chest to him in a tight embrace. His face disappears into the space between your breasts and you feel his entire body quiver with yours as you reach your peak. Warmth floods your core as he spills his release into you, your walls fluttering with the intensity of your orgasm. You pull him to you, returning his near-painful embrace.

You're as close as lovers, as close to one another as you can physically get, but it'll never be enough.

The high after he comes inside you is fleeting. Only a few minutes pass before the line inevitably returns to his brow and his frown deepens after he softens. He doesn't lift you off of him, though, so you soak up the feeling while you can.

"Better?" you whisper, eyes locked on his.

He nods slowly after a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. "Always," he mumbles gently, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your bottom lip. He presses his thumb into your mouth to the first knuckle, letting you taste salt and old sweat and your nectar on his skin.

You know better than to believe him, but you don't argue. Not today, never today. So you lift the corners of your lips in a sad smile and pretend that it doesn't feel like water rising in your lungs every time this day comes.

but we don't have to talk about it

i can walk you home and practice method acting

i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

even though we know it isn't true

Joel will never tell you what's on his mind. Never today. September 26th won't ever mean anything to you, so why would he bother? For him, it's everything and nothing all at once. Brown curls and sparkling young eyes and blood crusted on his arms and the unforgettable weight of death in his arms.

Another year older, he sighs, his heart clenching in grief. Another year older, and another year further from everything he's lost.

tysm for reading, here's a box of tissues. :') i love u all

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tokkiwrites · 4 months

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┈─ 𖧷 Harvey Wallbanger ⸝⸝ 🥃◞

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you're curious about how a classic harvey wallbanger tastes so you ask Joel, your dad's best friend, for a sip of his. he lets you try itㅡ in a not so conventional way.

★ ͘ dbf!joel miller, age gap, fem!reader, afab reader, no use of y/n, hair pulling, spit kink, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, kind of voyeurism, lots of pet names, lmk if i missed anything.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the backyard where the family gathering unfolded. The scent of barbecue lingered in the air, intermingling with the fragrant aroma of magnolia blossoms that adorned the edges of the patio. Strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead, adding a touch of magic to the evening. Mismatched lawn chairs and a weathered porch swing created a cozy seating area, where laughter and chatter filled the air. The wooden table, adorned with an array of homemade dishes, bore witness to the love poured into the get-together.

but that wasn't something you cared about right now.

Joel Miller, a man weathered by years and life's challenges, guarded his emotions behind a rough exteriorㅡㅡ at least that's what it seemed like.

You couldn't help but stare, unknowingly drawn towards him, as he conversed with your aunt. Family gatherings were a bittersweet affair; you resented his constant presence yet yearned for it, more than you cared to admit.

With a sip of the overly sweet virgin mojito, you suppressed a sigh, wondering if your dad had momentarily forgotten your age, given the drink he made for you. attention fixated on Joel, you observed the way your aunt touched his bicep; it sent a pang of jealousy through you. The effect he had on you was undeniable. You hated to admit it.

"Everything's alright, sweetheart?" Your dad's voice interrupted your envy-induced trance. "Huh?" You furrowed your brows, snapping back to reality. "Oh, uh... yeah, Dad. I'm just trying to get this drink down," you laughed nervously, swirling the cold glass around.

A knot tightened in your stomach. What if your dad sensed the unspoken tension between you and his best friend? you couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he knew the truth.

"What, you don't like my mojitos?"

"Dad, this is in no way a mojito." you laughed, settling the glass down onto the table next to you. "Well, you're still my little girl. I can't have you drinking alcohol now, can I?"

As you laughed off your dad's questionable mixology skills, your eyes inadvertently found Joel. His rugged silhouette stood against the backdrop of the setting sun. Why does he have to be so...him?

You didn't know much about the man, even though you grew up with him around all the timeㅡ you didn't know much. just knew how much you wanted him and how wrong it was.

On so many levels so wrong, yet you couldn't help but tremble as a wave of unspeakable thoughts had drowned your mind. Pressing your thighs together, you breathe heavily and decide to save yourself while you can, swiftly making your way inside the house.

No one seemed to notice.

Almost.

"Now why'd you run off like that? the ping-pong game just started." His voice, a gravelly drawl, cut through the air.

fuck. he knows. he saw you stare at him the whole night, of course he knows.

turning around, you meet his gaze. he towered over the kitchen entrance, a small glass in his rough hands. Jesus christ. You force out a smile, voice hitching.

"Hi, Mr. Miller! we didn't get to talk tonight, huh?" You slowly back up towards the kitchen island. "Why are you inside?"

"Don't change the subject, darlin'. i saw you tonight..."

oh, fuck.

"sneaking in to steal some of your dad's alcohol." he laughs, pointing towards you. "now, i told your dad you ain't one to drink those kiddie things."

thank god.

you laugh in relief, throwing your hands up. "you got me!"

"yeah, all grown up now. need a grown up drink, no?" His eyes lock onto yours and you gulp down the lump in your throat. nodding your head, you reach to play with the hem of your dress. "what are you drinking?"

"oh, this? 's a Harvey, don't think you'll like it much. old man drink." the corners of his mouth lift up into a smile. "can i have some?" you pip. "i bet its better than what dad made me drink." laughing, you try and stare out the window, as to avert Joel's gaze.

"that so?" he hoarsed. oh my god, this motherfu-

he circled around you and made his way to the cabinet that housed your dad's most cherished whiskey. Joel settled his glass down, the amber liquid catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

"C'mere, girl." He motioned you over, a command that sent shivers down your spine, and you obeyed. There was a magnetic force in his presence, an unspoken poison in his voice that drew you closer. As you approached, you caught a hint of his cologne, a rugged scent that added to the intoxicating atmosphere. He could ask anything of you right now...you'd do it.

Joel poured a generous amount into a glass filled with ice, the sound of the liquid gliding against the crystal and echoing in the quiet kitchen. The air thickened with anticipation as he handed you the drink, the warmth of his rough fingers grazing yours.

"i-i'm kind of scared to try it now, honestly." you divert his gaze. "come on, now." he pushed closer to you, his scent enveloping you. joel grabs the glass from your hands, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His other hand cupped your cheek, thumb pressing against your chin.

"open up." your eyes widened. did you hear that right? are you drunk? maybe that mojito wasn't virgin at all. "don't make me repeat myself, girl. "

you complied, uncertainty and excitement blending in the air. Joel tilted the glass, and the rich, hard whiskey slipped past his lips. Leaning down, palm still around your jaw, your breath caught as he slowly spat the liquid into your mouth.

his eyes never leave yours, and your heart feels like it could rip through your chest right now. Joel withdrew, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skinㅡ the taste of that forbidden sip plastered on your tongue.

The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and for a moment, time seemed suspended. As you caught your breath, Joel's expression remained unreadable.

"really think i couldn't see you starin' at me, angel?"

"I'm - so sorry, mr. Millerㅡㅡ"

"sweet girl. been dyin to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"dirty girl." a dark chuckle evades his throat "wonderin' how soaked that pussy is right now, hm?"

"mr. Miller, p-please..."

"so fuckin needy, i ain't even touched you yet." His voice, a husky murmur, resonated with a mixture of amusement and a raw need. his hot breath against you belied the intensity of the moment, leaving you yearning for more.

Desire hung thick in the air as Joel's hands lingered, teasing and exploring. Each touch ignited a fire within you, and the temptation between you two pulsed like a heartbeat faster than your own.

"sure you want this, darlin'?" nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "so sure." this is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

at any moment someone could walk through that doorㅡ but you didn't care, couldn't care. not whilst joels tongue clashed against yours. your arms wrapped around his neck, his slipped down to your ass, squeezing it, prompting you to yelp into the kiss.

"wanna fuck you over this counter, baby. want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you moaned at his dirty words.

dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

you were too deep into it, maybe it was the booze or his voice digging at your core. you barely realized when he turned you around, bending you over the kitchen counterㅡ the cold surface almost sizzled against your skin.

joel pressed himself against you, still clothed. fuck, he was huge. pulling your dress up and panties down, he traced his finger agains your dripping folds.

"fuckin hell, baby, all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

"'s all for y-ou, mr. Miller ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. " a fuckin dream 's what you are, girl. didn't know what i was missin all this time."

joel unbuckled his pants in a hurry, pulling them to the ground and positioning himself better behind you. he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough.

after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased.

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ a dream.

joel moves, at first slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all like a big girl." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " you were hanging on that counter for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you.

he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you ass, his moves now more ragged.

"f-uck, baby ㅡ i gotta come. where, tell me where?"

"inㅡinside-"

"god, fuckin dammitㅡ" with that white ropes painted your velvet walls, causing you to reach your high also, squeezing joel in.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulled out, letting his seed drip down your thighs. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

you sigh, of relief you didn't get caughtㅡㅡ or maybe of sadness because it was all over.

"let's get you cleaned up, huh? we're lucky your family takes ping-pong games so seriously." joel laughed, helping you up.

"mr. Miller?" you chirp.

"yeah, angel?"

"I really didn't like the Harvey."

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 guess whos baaack???? sorry for the extremely long time i was gone. uni drains me of all my powers. but i wrote this short 2k word story as an apology. dont forget to leave requests guys!!!! muahh i hope you like it.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you

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rainybubbles · 1 year

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How do COD men confess to you ?

Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, Alejandro

If you want more context here the part 1, and 2

G H O S T :

-At the end of your shift, he was waiting for you.

-And Max.

-Because Max was a cute puppy who stole his heart, but he would never tell a soul.

So yeah every day he wasn't on mission. He knew that at 10 pm, he will be at this little pet shop.

-Because he loved how your smile was appearing when you recognized him.

-He loved how you still joked about the ropes he bought or even how when he walked you back home, you were trying to go out of your way to make this walk longer by taking him to the little restaurant.

-This little restaurant, that you chose on purpose, because it has 4 fire escapes, and a perfect view on the outside.

-You knew him.

-And you didn't step back.

-Well in fact you didn't step back when he was just a creepy man who bought ropes at 3 AM, so he -sincerely doubts about your survival instinct.

-So yeah...

-But how did he confess, you're asking me ?

-Well, he didn't.

-Ghost has too many issues to open his heart like this.

-So you decided to make a moove.

-A classic move with a little declaration and a gift.

-Yeah.

-So you bought rope.

-Yeah.

-I know this doesn't sound good.

-It sounds even like the beginning of a horror story but wait.

-You decided to send him a package.

-And in this package you will put a rope tied in a heart form with a letter.

-Telling he took you heart in hostage and you would like him to keep it.

-...

-Seems weird, but it kinda fit your meeting, so it seems like a cute idea.

-Until three months passed and you had no news.

-Not even a letter.

-You didn't panic because sometimes his job was like this, he told you.

-But the problem was you had to move out.

-And even if he had your number, Ghost changed his phone regularly to prevent from some undercover shit.

-Besides your job at the pet shop, he couldn't contact you.

-So you tried to ignore your removal.

-But at the end of the fourth month, you had to admit this relationship will never had an end.

-And you mooved out of the country.

-A bittersweet ending.

-You felt like you were reading a fluff story but forgot to read the tag "hurt/no comfort".

-Shit.

-Maybe next time you should read the tag of your fucking love life.

-Like "a rope man will steal your heart" "angst" "sad ending" "slow burn" "fucking weird story" "not a happy fidelity card guy" "maybe he was into bondage but guess what ? We will never know lol"

-Maybe you were crying when you saw a rope in a DIY shop after this.

-Or not.

-Your dignity and ego will never recover from this memory. (neither did the sales assistant who was just here trying to help you)

-So you tried watching around, maybe the destiny would help you.

-Maybe a tall masked man will appear at your door at 2 PM, under the rain saying he has always loved you and....

-And you don't open the door for your own mom because you're too scared that she could be someone pretending she's your mom so you hoped he wouldn't do this.

-Yet two months after your removal, you had a call from your previous boss.

-You usually avoid calls, but you knew he wouldn't call you if it wasn't important.

-So you answered and...

-He was telling you a package with your name was delivered to him.

-And when you asked what was in it.

-He answered.

-"A fidelity card for rope, with a yes on it."

-You never smiled that hard.

-(Ghost found your new contacts thanks to Lasswell later, to confirm you both confessed to each other.)

S O A P :

-You had kept in touch.

-Through letters and some texts, when Soap was allowed to send them, you started to have a great friendship.

-But lately in the memes that Soap sent to you, you found a lot of references to the French girls in general.

-Firstly you didn't pay attention.

-Until that night.

-When you saw Titanic again with your parents.

-And it clicked.

-The French girls scene !

-By you stopped.

-Why would Soap make implicit reference to this ?

-Then again you remembered his drawings.

-He sent you some of them in his letters.

-When you get back to your home, you gathered them, looking if maybe he had made a portrait of you or had made a joke that you didn't see.

-But it was just random sketches.

-You stared at Ghost sketch eating an ice cream when you noticed something on his mask.

-He had a "W" on it.

-You searched through the sketches and...

-"U to the mow, I go you will" you said out loud after collecting the letters and tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

-And you tried to understand it.

-But except this fucking "mow" and "will"

-You didn't find any coherence in it.

-Did he want to ask you to mow his lawn in his garden ?

-But he didn't have a garden.

-And why a "U" and then a "You".

-Why, why Soap would even do this ?

-He was not the kinda guy that do this.

-"...I think I'm too stupid to find out this shit." you admitted.

-Well maybe your French girls scenes will not be romantic.

-So you texted him saying, you understood he sent you a message.

-But you didn't find how to translate it.

-And he texted you the answer.

-"Will you go out with me ?"

-...

-"Did Price give you the idea Soap ?" you answered.

-"Wait, you didn't answer."

-"Did Price give you the idea ?"

-"You think I couldn't be a romantic, love ?"

-"I think we're both too stupid to create a thing like this, love."

-"... it was L.T"

-"he...Ghost ?"

-"Yes."

-"...did he love titanic ?"

-"he had a collection about it."

-"...wow."

-"yeah."

-"To answer, yes, I would love too. But never ask again advice from Ghost, I don't want to end on an iceberg."

-"Yes, love."

P R I C E :

-Soap and Gaz with a broken arm led to your confession.

-They were both drunk and knew their captain had a thing for you, and it was reciprocated.

-Especially after Price offered you some chocolates to make clear he was interested in you.

-But nothing was happening.

-So with some scotch, and very bad ideas, Gaz and Soap decided that their time to shine had coming.

-They were the Cupids of the base.

-And what had Cupid ?

-Wings.

-If they used their wings to bring you from your office to Price at the bar, then he would be happy and more relaxed in this context, and maybe he will confess.

-Yes.

-Except.

-They didn't have wings.

-So when they jumped out from the roof.

-Their arms broke.

-And who was the doctor at the base ?

-You.

-You didn't go out because you were busy to treat their arms.

-"Maybe we need some bows next time." Soap whispered but it was more like he shouted in Gaz's ears.

-"And some white underwears! Cupid has that. I'm sure if we wore this, it will work for sure." Gaz answered.

-"And what about not jumping from the roof and not drinking that much, hmm ?" you asked.

-"Sssshhhh, we're in a confession plan right now. You can't stop us." Gaz said trying to put his finger on your mouth but ended up to do it on the wall next to you.

-"I'm calling Price to take you back to your bed, you're both too heavy for me."

-"We could walk."

-"It's not walking the problem Soap. It's where you could go."

-"hmm."

-So you called Price.

-The problem was he asked you why.

-Why did the boys jump out from the roof ?

-You blinked.

-He would know when he would come here.

-So you decided to gather some courage and-

-"They try to make us confess by bringing me to the bar with you. But they believe they were angels and could fly."

-The silence was so loud.

-He hung up.

-You sighed.

-Well at least, you said it.

-You didn't expect a yes, but at least an answer would be the minimum.

-When later, you heard a knock, you didn't make the effort to look up.

-You heard Price taking the boys to their beds and the door closing.

-But few minutes later, you heard a knock.

-Surprised, you stood up.

-Maybe someone else has drunk too much and-

-"John." You said surprised.

-"I intend to ask you out with some roses, and tomorrow but I guess two drunk soldiers with broken arms beat me."

-"The experienced strategist beat up ?" you joked.

-"I guess so. I'm sorry it was done like this, love."

-"I don't care honestly. As long as it's you asking me."

-He smiled and took your hand slowly.

-"Well, I can't wait for our first date, then."

-"'Hope Soap and Gaz will not be there."

-He laughed.

-"I can't promise that." he smiled.

G A Z :

-A meme.

-He sent you a meme.

-To confess.

-But you never answered him.

-And when he saw you, you never talked about it.

-So...he understood he was rejected.

-And he was okay with that, hell it was normal.

-He just thought it was reciprocated because you had what seems like dates with him.

-Maybe he mixed up signals.

-So he just never talked about it again, because he didn't want to make you feel awkward.

-But one day during lunch, he heard Soap talking with you.

-"So you got a new one, uh ?" Soap asked.

-"I didn't have the choice. His ass fucking destroyed the previous one."

-Gaz stared at the floor.

-He didn't know you had someone.

-Maybe that was because you never-

-"L.T has a cake, that's for sure." Soap joked.

-Gaz suffocated.

-You-

-And Ghost-

-And Ghost's ass-

-"That's not funny Soap. He fucking destroyed my phone just by sitting on it. It's not a cake. It's a fucking breeze block at this point."

-Your...

-Oh.

-oh.

-FUCK.

-He realized.

-You didn't ignore him.

-You hadn't see his message.

-"How does it happen ?" he asked to be sure of his conclusion.

-"I just let my phone on a bench, and he sat without looking, that's it. But because his ass is apparently more solid that my relationship with my father, or even the fucking Vivelle dop gel, he broke it."

-"Fuckin' hell". Gaz said

-"You can say that again. Why are you asking, by the way ?"

-"I sent you a text and you never answer, so I was wondering why."

-"Now you know. But I will answer, I manage to transfer my data and texts on my new phone."

-Gaz didn't feel well now.

-Soap was here.

-And your phone in your hand.

-Meaning he will see your reaction in live and with a public.

-Like he was on the set of a TV show. But here he could gain your heart and not $100,000.

-But you didn't say anything, neither did open it.

-You just sit and talked with him and Soap like it was not important.

-Because of course you couldn't know what was his text.

-So he waited.

-All the day, for you to open this fucking meme.

-To see it.

-And at midnight.

-He received a Mister Worlwide saying yes.

-Never he was so happy to see this bald head

A L E J A N D R O :

-He had everything planned.

-The moment, the place.

-It was going to be a big thing.

-He talked Rudy about it and even the 1-4-1 during a mission.

-Because Soap teased him about you.

-So he explained how he was going to ask you out and-

-Laswell stopped him.

-Their communications were not over.

-She heard everything

-And when Laswell ordered you to tell the location to Price

-He understood you were on their mission as a technician, and you heard all of it.

-The only thing that could kill Alejandro is Alejandro after all, right ?

-Even when it was dying of embarrassment.

-He mumbled some insults in Spanish and tried to hold his head high.

-He had everything planned, and just a microphone ruined this ?

-No,no, no, no he refused.

-He met you because of those mics, how they dare to betray him like that ?

-He ignored this and finished the mission.

-But on the way back, he heard your voice.

-"Good job guys. By the way I would love going on a date with you, Ale. If you needed to know after...this."

-You know the smile he did, when they interrogate Valeria ?

-It was one hundred brighter right now in the car.

-Soap even wore sunglasses to protect his eyes.

-Alejandro was so fucking happy.

-Maybe he did not hate the mics.

-Even though he's persuaded that someone hacked them this particular day.

___

If you want more : here.

I'm sorry that it took so long to post this part, but when I posted another COD about how you meet Farah, Alex and Konig I had a comment saying it was shit.

And I know my English sucks, so I deleted it and hesitated to write again..

Maybe I need some readers to help me, or maybe this comment was just hateful, I don't know.

In any case, sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language !

#call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #captain price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #cod x reader

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magiccath · 5 months

Text

Endings

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the Doctor hates endings. Especially when it comes to you

CW: Major character death

A/N: sorry not sorry again for this one

The Doctor hated endings. Books, movies, life. Everything had to end. It could be bittersweet, happy, or even ambivalent. Eventually, everything found its end.

If the Doctor controlled the story, nothing would ever end. Not happily, and certainly not tragically.

He ripped the last page out of books, casting the singular piece of paper away without a second thought. He turned the TV off before the last scene of a movie, not even bothering with the credits. The few times you went to see the original Shakespeare with him, he left before the last act. He never wanted to say goodbye to anyone, especially you.

It took you a while to figure this out. You’d watched him lose Rose, and Donna too; you’d helped him pick up the pieces afterward. Each of those events heart-shattering in its own way.

But even after things ended, he continued on like they hadn’t. He didn’t put Rose’s things away, you did. He left Donna’s tea in the TARDIS kitchen.

You feared if your story ended, for whatever reason, you would hang around him forever. A cruel reminder of a painful past.

But you knew it would happen. Maybe he’d kick you out of the TARDIS. Maybe you’d forget like Donna, or get lost like Rose. Or maybe you’d die like River.

You certainly didn’t think it would happen like this. You didn’t want it to happen like this.

You had fought that morning. You couldn’t even really remember why, it was that silly. You just remembered being furious with the Doctor. Maybe he had been reckless, that was usually the reason you got mad at the Time Lord.

You’d agreed to table the fight and deal with it later. You had just assumed there would be a later, there had always been one before.

When it finally happened, it happened in slow motion, almost as if time stopped for you. It wasn’t quick or easy. It was slow and painful, the realization that this was it. The end for you.

Your eyes darted between the Dalek that had shot you and the Doctor, your eyes dripping with apologies. The blow was quick, but the pain wasn’t. It coursed through your body, a gut-wrenching torment. You gritted your teeth through it, trying your best to power your way through.

As much pain as you were in, the Doctor was in more. You could see it in his eyes. They were always more expressive than the rest of him. He could think he had the best poker face in the world, but his eyes would always give him away.

The Doctor was by your side in an instant, cradling your body against his. His fingers desperately clutched your clothes, clawing to keep you close to him. He couldn’t lose you. Not now, not like this.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, tears already staining his face. He pushed a stray hair off of your forehead, his touch lingering on your face. You were always so beautiful, even in death. He cursed himself for not telling you more often.

“It’s ok,” you choked out. You smiled sadly, the action excruciating. Even as the pain overtook you there was one thing on your mind - making sure he was ok. The Doctor had lost so much, you didn’t want to be another thing to haunt him at night.

He shook his head and held you tighter, clearly not ready to let you go. You used the rest of your strength to lift your hand to his face for the last time, tracing the lines of his jaw.

“I love you,” you uttered, hardly a whisper. The Doctor’s tears fell from his face and onto your shirt, small droplets of pain decorating the fabric.

If he could, he would have torn the universe apart from you. But he couldn't. All he could do was sit and watch you die. What good was he if he couldn’t take care of you?

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, guilt clouding his eyes. He had promised to keep you safe. To keep you alive.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, smiling sadly. It truly wasn’t his fault, he had to know that.

You stared upwards at his painstaking face as the rest of your life drained from your body, leaving you limp. One second you were there, the next you were gone. It was as simple as that.

The Doctor broke, pained sobs forcing their way from his mouth as he clutched your lifeless body. It wasn’t pretty, pain rarely was. Tears and all the nasty things that came with it streamed down his face. He felt as if his hearts had been ripped out of his chest. He had felt pain before, too many times to count, but it never felt like this.

He didn’t care that there was still a war raging on around him. He didn’t care that he could be shot by a Dalek at any minute. All he could focus on was you. He’d loved you, more than he had ever loved anything in his long life. He had sworn to look after you, to protect you. In the end, he couldn’t do either of those things. Instead, he was left desperately clutching your body.

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #angst #major character death #hurt no comfort

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junnieverse · 8 months

Text

BEST PART (PART TWO) ➳ P. JONGSEONG

➙ synopsis: after a trip down memory lane and a 'coincidental' run in with your ex after moving back home, you thought you would be able to move on but sparks seemingly started flying once again between you and jay.

pairing: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers to exes to lovers (again) au

word count: 1.3k

request: " I almost cried reading Best Part, may I request a part 2 with a happy ending?? "

warnings: not proofread

a/n: I had initially wanted to leave this as a oneshot with a bittersweet ending but because you so kindly asked, here it is anon, enjoy :)

a/n (2): please be sure to read part one [ here ]

You were finally back home after being overseas and for the past two weeks you've been settling back in into your new apartment and catching up with your friends and family.

It felt great to be back and seeing everyone you love in person again but after the day of your trip going through your box of keepsakes, you would catch yourself thinking about Jay once in awhile wondering how and where he was.

Although a big part of you also knew maybe it was best not to see him because you wanted to, no, needed to move on from him and start a new page in your book called life.

Your new apartment still needed some decorating with a personal touch and you thought adding a few vinyl pieces could make your space feel more like home.

Walking into the old music shop you had been introduced to by Jay in the past, you kindly greet the store owner in the front and begin to browse through the various vinyls picking out some you wanted to get.

The store bell rung alerting the owner and you, seeing as you were currently the only customer, that someone else had come in.

You had obviously paid no mind to this simply paying attention to this box of vinyls looking for a new album.

"(Y/n)... is that you?"

Turning your head you immediately recognise the voice you'd missed but also wanted to forget for the longest time.

"Jay... h-hi." you say weakly as your voice cracked.

It felt as thought your entire world was crashing down and in that moment you were just holding back tears and wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

"How've you been, it's great to see you again. When did you get back?" he asks calmly trying to make small talk but little did you know his heart was beating uncontrollably fast.

"Uhm yeah haha. I've been good I guess. Got back about two weeks ago so I've just been settling in." you tell him wanting to run away.

"It was nice to see you too but I have to uhh... unpack some of my other things back home." you excuse yourself avoiding eye contact with him fiddling with your fingers nervously.

Just as you turned around to leave to go pay for the vinyls you picked out, Jay stops you gently grabbing your wrist and you notice a particularly familiar bracelet on his wrist.

"I hope it's okay if I message you again if you don't mind... maybe we can catch up over a coffee sometime." he suggests letting go of your arm and scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Y-you still have my number..?" you ask him suprised by this.

"Yeah. I kept them... you know just in case." he said smiling sheepishly.

"Oh uhm, okay then, you can text me. I'll see you soon then."

Your heart and mind were both racing at this point.

You didn't know whether it was the right move to let Jay back into your life but having met him here again has to be some sort of sign right?

Fate?

And the bracelet you made him, not only had you both broken up but he was still wearing it too...

You plop down onto your couch, after arriving home, letting out a deep sigh trying to figure out how your life suddenly took an entire 180.

Jay did in fact text you that night and talking to him again brought back so many emotions you'd tried so hard to let go of.

You felt like a giddy high schooler experiencing her first love all over again.

You both had agreed to meet at a cafe not far from where you lived the following Saturday and you were quite nervous.

Seeing Jay again after so long only proved to you that you were still undoubtedly in love with him and you were secretly hoping he was too.

Walking into the cafe that afternoon, you catch Jay sitting across a table near the window looking beautiful as the sun hit him at the best angle making his skin glisten.

"Hey Jay." you greet him about to sit down but before that he abruptly pulls you in for a hug.

You feel yourself melting in his embrace taking a whiff of the vanilla scent you missed still proceeding to hug him back despite how awkward you felt.

"It's great to see you again, thank you for agreeing to this." he says pulling away first as he pulled out your chair to let you sit as you thanked him taking your seat.

"Wow, this place sure has changed, felt like just yesterday we were here on one of our dates." you say looking around admiring the new interior of the place as you reminisced about the past.

"Yeah, it feels good to be back here with you, it didn't feel the same coming alone." he admits shyly as a waiter suddenly places your drinks and food down.

"Why am I not suprised, you still remember my go-to order." you say trying to hide your smile as Jay chuckles.

"I wanted to make a good impression. Although I was worries maybe it might have changed, glad it didn't." he says feeling relieved watching you enjoy your food.

"So how was it studying overseas, anything memorable?" he asks trying to make conversation.

You were glad Jay was able to make you feel comfortable, it felt like talking to an old friend and catching up.

You both then exchanged stories of what has been going on for these past two years you'd been away from each other and yet, you hadn't picked up any romance in his story.

"So you didn't meet anyone while I was gone..?" you ask clearing your throat.

"I wasn't really interested in anyone. Plus I'm still I love with y-" he stops himself realising what he just said as your eyes widen.

"I-I'm so sorry, uh, I don't want to put you in a difficult position. I completely get it if you've moved on-" he rambles and you stop him trying to calm him down by laying your hand on his across the table.

"It's okay Jay, I feel the same way." you admit as his ears turn red and he had the biggest smile on his face.

It felt so relieving being able to finally get that out to him and even better to know he felt the same way.

You both then spent the entire day catching up more and visiting old places you'd go to making new memories there.

"Thank you for today, I had a great time." you tell Jay as you stop in front of your door both your hands in his as you gently sway them.

"Wait uhm, I actually have something for you." he says gently rubbing your hands with the pad of his thumb letting go briefly handing you the small letter from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Oh, thank you." you accept the letting wondering what it was.

"But open it only once you're inside and I've left." he says smiling shyly.

"Okay Jay, goodnight." you tell him nodding in understanding.

Letting go of his hands, not really wanting to though, you decide to make the first move planting a short peck on his cheek leaving Jay in awe as you went inside.

You look at the letter once more opening it and reading it's content feeling yourself about to burst into tears.

At the end of the letter it read:

'Day 01: I love your presence, no matter how much time passes, I still feel myself loving you more and more and now we can finally start over together.'

He still remembered the letters, you thought to yourself with the biggest smile.

Maybe things would work out just fine.

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thebellearchives · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : You ask Solomon to take you to the beach to clear your mind of sorrow

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!mc, angst, unrequited love

‧₊˚ a / n : one of the things Solomon and I have in common is that we hate the beach… coincidentally i was listening to The Neighbourhood’s “The Beach” when i saw Minx posted her event info lol so this one’s based on that song!

‧₊˚ e v e n t : thanks @solomons-poison por mentioning me in the replies, i don’t think i would’ve seen it otherwise 😵‍💫 this is for her summer event so if you write or do fanart feel free to join!

Solomon rested his head on the palm tree’s trunk and closed his eyes. The annoying smell of the salty water filling his senses, the unstable sand under his shoes swiftly rearranging as he tried to find a comfortable position to forget where he was at. It was nighttime, so at least he couldn’t complain about the intense heat and the burning feeling of the sun on his skin. The beach brought him memories, bad memories. And this time, even though he was with you, it didn’t change. It was bittersweet now, the way your laugh reached to him from the shore and he had to remind himself he was only here at your request, to see you happy, and yet he was miserable in exchange.

“Solomon!” his eyes opened lazily at your call, you were walking towards him, long white t-shirt drenched, you legs glistening with ocean water.

A knot began to pull from his throat, how could you look so painfully beautiful? He wished he could smile as genuinely as you did, but he offered his usual fake teasing smirk in return.

“Ready to go?” his arm slightly moved towards you to offer back the sweatpants you had discarded before running towards the water.

“What?! No way!” you laughed “won’t you join me in the water?”

“No, I don’t think so” he pulled a face “I dislike the ocean”

“You do?” your widened eyes pulled at his heart’s strings, you looked so pretty when innocent surprise painted your expression “I didn’t know that, if I had known I would’ve asked you to go somewhere else”

“You wanted to come here didn’t you? Something about the beach helping you to clear your mind” he smiled again.

“Right” you didn’t smile back, instead he saw a subtle wince of pain behind your eyes.

Solomon knew why. You missed the brothers, you missed Simeon, Diavolo, Barbatos, Luke… And he could tell you missed that man your heart longed for. So once again that knot in his throat made it difficult to produce sound. You were there in front of him, so close to him he could reach for you, for your chin, for your lips. He wished he could wipe that sorrowful expression off your face, he wished his presence alone would make you shine like you did with him.

Quick and sudden blinks chased away your sad feelings, replacing them with a fake smile.

“Yes, thank you for bringing me here, I find the beach to be a healing place. Should we go somewhere you like next? The sun will come out soon so I think maybe if you wanna go for breakfast there must be some places open, right?”

Your friendship came to him as warm and timid as the sunrise in the horizon behind the water. He had brought you here for comfort and even when you still felt sad, you wanted to go somewhere of his liking next?

He sighed, pretending to get ready to leave and not because of the pain he was feeling in his chest. You were a good friend, so much better than he could ever be. How could he offer a genuine friendship when everything he did he did it out of love? Lying to you was easy, he did it everyday. Saying you looked funny when you concentrated so you wouldn’t think he stared at you for other reasons, guiding your hands when doing spells to correct you instead of just because he longed for the touch of your skin. But how much of a good friend could he be if lying was an everyday occurrence?

“Didn’t you say you didn’t wanna leave? We can stay a bit more if you want, I don’t mind”

“Really?” you laughed, his eyes soaked up on your fleeting happiness as much as he could “you’re such a good friend, Solomon, we don’t have to stay just because of me”

You turned around to watch the sun rise slowly. Solomon bit his lip to refrain from sighing again, watching your silhouette against the first rays of sunshine and the beach laughing at him once again, complimenting your beauty as to shove in his face the one person he wanted more than anything and couldn’t have.

“Of course I am, I’m the best of friends. Why don’t you run for a quick dip in the water before we leave?”

#; belles angst #minx summer fun 2023 #obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #solomon x you #solomon x reader #solomon x y/n #solomon x mc #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #gn!reader #gn!mc

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rhoorl · 5 months

Text

Week in Review | Dec. 10

Hi! How are you? I can't believe we're nearing the midway point of December! I am happy to get back to my typical Week in Review style after an abbreviated version last week!

Same shit different week for me when it comes to my TBR, I add more than I can read. But alas, here's what I got to:

Fics I read this week:

Frankie Morales

I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena - I've kept this series in my Current Compulsory Series section for weeks, but I'm pulling it up to the top this week because we got the final part this week! It's always a bit bittersweet to me when I get to the end of a series, especially one I'm following in real-time. I loved following along each week and immersing myself in this story and I’m sad it's done (but hey, great news, I can now reread it from the beginning and binge!). Great job Jo! 💕

While I'm talking about Jo, here's this saucy one-shot Coming Under the Christmas Tree

Joel Miller

Footprints by @sin-djarin - This brought back some Christmas morning nostalgia for me! Joel as a dad and the love he has for Sarah makes me melt. And we have an Uncle Tommy appearance too!

Mr. Ben

SOS by brnn on AO3 - I’m not sure if this creator is on Tumblr, but if they are let me know! I had several chapters of this story built up that I hadn’t caught up on and when the final chapter dropped I binged what I had left! Mr. Ben and OFC Clare are adorable.

Din Djarin

Safe to The Touch by @linzels-blog A touch-starved Din gets some lovin’. 💕

A Baker’s Dozen by @avastrasposts Part 2 in Mel's series saw Din come into the bakery. This was so sweet (no pun intended!).

Other Characters

Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira - This series is so good! I've had it recommended to me several times and I've been slowly working my way through it, savoring it because I don't want it to end! I read Parts 2 and 3 this week along with the various drabbles in between. The chemistry these two have is *chef's kiss*

Current Compulsory Series:

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - A healthy serving of delicious stories this week. I officially want to move to Maplewood, well, maybe visit. I'll be honest, I'm not made for the cold anymore. 😆 Also, Tim and Cagney continue to be a favorite as are Frankie and Mav! And Dieter made me google Christmas hippo socks which somehow I already did not own! 🦛

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog The rollercoaster I felt with this latest chapter … I have to know what happens next!!

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This latest chapter had me all up in my feels. These two are 🥹💕

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I think I've finally managed to pick my jaw up off the floor from the spicy scene in the latest chapter.

Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo Another great chapter update this week, El!! Grumpy Tim and his pet fish are living rent free in my head.

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - There is some dad Javi content I need to catch up on!!

Posts from the week:

The moodboards @wildemaven puts out are always gold, but this Frankie holiday-themed board just made me swoon

@laurfilijames made me think about which holiday movies the TF boys would be into. I also hastily made a graphic lol. Speaking of asks @maggiemayhemnj gave me an almost impossible this or that choice. My friend @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain offered up these choices.

If you need a badge for any Pedro boy, @morallyinept has you covered

We got our first look at Pedro in Freaky Tales and oh goodness … the scar. Seriously help us all whenever the Gladiator photos leak.

In case you missed it, the fun writing challenge that’s going around here's another plug. I finally have an idea … now I just need to write it. I think I’m going to end up throwing it back to my college days and cramming this in at the last minute….

Feral corner:

There was simply too much to keep track of this week. I was overwhelmed by thots. I think this post sums things up well.

This photo altered my brain chemistry. This photo of Pedro as Dieter and THEN this video… oh hey Working Title Dieter. 😏 Frankie tummy always gets me. Javi P in this jacket. Talk about gifs you can hear. This outfit - he knew what he was doing when we wore this right?

@foralonglongtime - no pressure but I’m very excited about the prospect of this…

This scene from TLOU forever changed me.

Garrett Hedlund: This man was utterly too much this week. Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and finally, the post that started my spiral.

Things I watched:

I didn't make it to the movies this week, Mr. Rhoorl went and saw Godzilla Minus One and loved it. He's a huge Godzilla fan so he was pretty excited to see it. I’m off fo work tomorrow so I’m planning on seeing Wish.

Something that is releasing soon that I'm excited to see is Rebel Moon with Charlie Hunnam on Netflix. It looks like it will be available for my UK fans this week, but we in the US have to wait until the 21st.

Personal Stuff

Busy week. Both Mr Rhoorl and I had PTO on different days this week and we both had our plans thwarted by a sick baby. She's ok now, all good! Otherwise, we've been mostly laying low. I have managed to get most of my holiday shopping done and our Christmas cards arrived so that's exciting! We've also been checking out the various theme parks - I love the way they decorate this time of year! We did a holiday cookie stroll at Epcot last night and it was yummy

Fic updates:

I had Benny Miller brain rot again (when don't I at this point?). Anyway, the result was a third part of what I guess is now the unofficial "Are You on Mute" series. I do have plans for wrapping those one-shots up into something bigger. I just frankly keep having thots I have to get out and it's distracting me😆

I did manage to get a good amount of writing done for the next chapter of Delta Landscaping. Hoping to get the new episode out early this week. Whenever I get down on myself that I'm not updating that series fast enough I remind myself it's essentially like 6 different series in one so therein lies the delays 🫣

This can be such a stressful part of the year, so I hope you are able to take some time for yourself! Have a great week and thanks for reading if you made it this far!

Masterlist

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? Part Two

Are You Alone

#rhoorl week in review #rhoorl fic rec #pedro pascal characters fic #garrett hedlund

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 1 year

Text

Catra x gn! Reader - Masks

A/n: I was going to make this into angst but I didn't you lucky fucks

Summary: Catra has always found a way to break your mask, and you always return the favor though

Warnings: allusions to brutality/killing in war, abuse mentions (shadow weaver,) I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three p's:

[pronouns: you/your] [pov: 2nd person] [pairings: (romantic!) catra x reader, (platonic!) adora x reader, (platonic!) adora x catra]

The hoard wasn't all bad.

Sure, the hoard wasn't good and they were raising child soldiers but there was still so many good memories. Mostly because of the people that were in them.

You missed the days were Catra, you, and Adora were all together, you missed Catra most of all. You wish above all else that she would come to the side of the Rebellion and just see what you were seeing. Though Catra probably wouldn't even if she did, because sometimes she is just so involved in herself that she doesn't see past some things like how she thinks she isn't good enough.

You can thank Shadow Weaver for that one.

Shadow Weaver truly did love Adora even if it was because she honestly thought Adora was special (she wasn't wrong to be fair.) It was for selfish reasons, but she did in her own terrible abusive ways.

Then there was you.

She didn't treat you differently than she treated Catra at first, because at first you weren't special, you were the unspecial to the second unspecial one. When she found out you were naturally born with dark magic though? The world was turned upside down.

Training with Shadow Weaver was grueling, plus you didn't have a connection with her like Adora (and even a little bit Catra) did. You were just power to her, and she was so wrong to train you.

Because you are stronger than ever now.

Your magic wrapped around the horde soldiers as they scream in fear as you move them towards you and the other princesses with a bored look on your face. This isn't even that hard, these idiots should see what you are really able to do.

Frankly, what grabbed your attention was the growling of a cat that was also caught in this tornado of darkness.

Catra.

You drop the rest of the people and only held Catra now in the tornado. You knew she probably would have escaped if it was her and others in there, with just her she was truly alone and couldn't manipulate anyone to get her way.

"Let me go!" She screeches.

There was also the fact that you didn't really need the others.

____________

The cat's locked up in a room in Brightmoon and you can hear her scratches at the door and her screams to let her out.

For some reason they placed her in the room right next to yours so you had to listen to her all night, and all you want to do is sleep.

Glorious sleep.

You nearly got there, to dreamland where you could run free and let your emotions go, pretend like there wasn't a war. As if you had no powers, and find yourself surrounded by friends that didn't glance at you nervously all the time.

You see it, the way that Glimmer would glower at your powers, how the other princesses would stare at you with a little bit of fear, the manner that Bow would always step a little bit in front of his friends when you're around. Then there's Adora who's eyes would glaze over and her hand would go to her sword ready to strike.

That's why you found bittersweet comfort in your dreams, because you always had to pretend like the world couldn't touch you, you had to be the stoic one that would do the dirty work in the war. The one who would go with the people and see the blood and gore that came with it, to see them die knowing that it would break anyone else.

You value your escape, that's why you didn't care that Catra is maybe even scared, she needs to shut up.

You stomp out of your room and slam open her door before quickly closing it back up.

Catra couldn't get out as the room is sealed with dark magic courtesy of you, and if she tried to attack you, you would have the upper hand.

Besides, you know Catra probably better than she knows herself even with being away from her for so long.

"Oh look who it is." Catra laughs sarcastically with an almost pained look in her face. As her hair was a strangely frizzled mess, and there were bags under her eyes, yet she still looks as gorgeous as ever. As she always does.

"Someone else who abandoned everything for nothing."

"I'm assuming Adora already talked to you."

Catra scowls, "She did, and I don't need another hero complex talk."

You raise your eyebrow at her and cross your arms over your chest, the memories of the past flicker through your mind as this reminds you so much of your past banter. Even if this was dry and dark, nothing like the light atmosphere that it once was.

"I'm not here to give you one."

Catra rolls her eyes. "Then what are you here for then? That's what it seems like all you Rebellion people are useful for."

She narrows her eyes at you as if observing every part of you and trying to commit it to memory. "Although you aren't quite like the rest of them are you?"

Ah, here it comes, the moment she tries to recruit you back.

"I know you see the way they treat you, as if you're dangerous."

You roll your eyes, of course she's going this route, she may not be wrong but that doesn't mean she had good intentions.

"Well then spare me the Villain talk, Catra it won't work."

"Then why are you here? Why else then if you're not doubting your place in the rebellion?" She interrogates you, almost innocently looking.

That's where Catra is incorrect in her facts, you don't doubt your place in the rebellion because you know it's the right choice. Just because people assume you're dangerous doesn't mean you're going to cry back over the horde because they "don't understand." You would be a weapon over there, at least here you can use your abilities for what you would like.

"I'm actually here to tell you to be quiet, I would like to get some sleep tonight and you meowing like an injured kitten isn't helping." You deadpan.

Catra glares at you. "Did I really mean that little to you, did what we use to have mean so little to you? That you just came in hear to tell me to shut up?" She's says, offended as she balls her hands into fists at her sides.

Sighing you run a hand through your hair, Catra is the most difficult person to have a conversation with that doesn't make you want to actively to pull your hair out. One moment she's the enemy and in another she wants to be your lover.

"Of course it matters, but you made your decision and you broke my heart when you stayed. Why would I ever come into this room to have a lovely conversation to reminisce about the past?" You scoff. "Trusting you, is out of the question."

You turn on your heel once you realize it's silent, you have completed your original mission and unfortunately gave yourself more to keep yourself up at night. Catra may be silent tonight, but she still managed to find a way to invade every corner of your mind.

"Y/n wait-" She goes to grab your hand but you knock it out of the way before she can.

"What are you going to say Catra? Sorry, I doubt it. I can't stand when you're lke this, it makes the different colors of your eyes a true story." You glance at them once before looking away. "Two faced."

"Please." She tries again. "Come back to the horde, I won't force you to do anything just come back."

"I said no, I'm not going to sacrifice my morals for you."

Then there's the shift, you see it, the moment those words (the truth) come out of your mouth she's the enemy again.

"Oh, stop it!" She laughs at you. "I've seen you on the battlefield, what would the princesses think if they truly see what you do? Do you think there will be any chance of them accepting you then?"

The dark magic swirls around for a split second you but you close your eyes and calm yourself from using it. It would trigger to much of Shadow Weaver for Catra, and then you would have a real problem.

You have to be the stoic one again, you can't let your emotions get the best of you. Not even with your lover.

"You need to listen to me very carefully Catra." You start. "The princesses already know what I do, and although you might think I will flatter on the battlefield when facing you." You pause as you see her eye twitch.

"I will not, you said it yourself, you've seen how I fight. I don't want to live without you, but that doesn't mean I can't. Don't make me prove."

"What does that mean?" Her voice wavers at the end despite her false bravo.

"It means you have to make a choice. Join the rebellion, or you'll loose me forever."

"I can't just let go of everything I've built!" She hisses and stalks up to you so you're chest to chest and everything you tried to coach yourself into flies out the window.

"Who are you proving a point to? Adora? Adora just wants her friend back. Me perhaps?" You pretend to think before rolling your eyes. "Oh wait, I know! Shadow Weaver."

"I'm not-"

"How many times do you have to suffer before you realize giving up is sometimes the strongest thing you can do." You whisper as you brush lock of hair behind her ear and she gazes at you with wide eyes.

"Join the rebellion, Catra." You breathe out, as your faces grow closer.

She squeezes her eyes shut tightly before finally collapsing into your arms, her red mask clattering to the ground.

"Yes, I'll join you."

For the first time in a long time you smile.

Words 1679

-thedelusionreaderbitch

she ra taglist: no one yet! (Just comment, dm, or send me a message and I'll add you!)

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r1-jw-lover · 3 months

Note

HULLO!!!!! :P

rank your top five fav ships from the john wick series !! :3

Hi, thank you for the ask. Just wanna put a disclaimer that my first venture into the JW fandom was through the fourth film, so my ranking list will be heavily biased on that movie.

John x Caine

It's not even one year since JW4 is out and John/Caine is already on the top ten most written ships on AO3 within the John Wick fandom.

This pairing has just the right amount of bittersweetness and melancholy for me, and putting it on top of the actors' chemistry, the gay divorced vibes, the bickering, friends to reluctant enemies, the parallels, being each other's mirror, their deep trust, understanding and care for one another, you get my number one JW ship on this list.

The friendship between John & Caine is definitely one of the most developed and convincing out of all the friends John Wick had in the series, and in spite of the circumstances forcing them to be pitted against each other, they still managed to find comfort in the other's presence regardless, and I think that in itself is beautiful.

2. Koji x John x Caine

You know what else is better than putting Keanu Reeves and Donnie Yen together in the same movie? Putting Keanu Reeves, Donnie Yen AND Hiroyuki Sanada together in the same movie.

You have already seen the incredible fanart [1, 2, 3] by the wonderful @ibahibut. They are THE old men yaoi of the recent decade of cinema, period.

The dynamics between the three of them are immaculate. Not only you have John & Caine (explanation above), John & Koji are very supportive of each other, and Koji & Caine have both the closeness and the inevitable tragicness that undercurrents their brotherhood.

All in all, I desperately need a prequel series of this trio.

3. John x Helen

It's the only canon romantic relationship in the series so it has to be on the list. Other than the fact that one of them is dead, I think that John/Helen is incredibly sweet, which make the heartaches even more painful.

John's grief for Helen's passing is one of the main driving forces for the character throughout the series. His almost religious love and devotion to his wife is all the more apparent given that Helen is the reason John had fought to stay alive for as long as four movies.

At the end of the day, John only wished to die not as the Baba Yaga but as a loving husband, finally succumbing to his wounds with Helen being his last thought before dying. (TAT)

4. Akira x Mia

Gosh, I love my lesbian rarepair too much. I initially shipped them merely for the shits and giggles (i.e. Akira getting back at Caine by dating his daughter lol), but then I also come to realise their potential as a pairing story-wise.

Outside of the obvious enemies to/and lovers vibes, I could imagine both Akira and Mia inheriting a lot of angst from their respective "father problems" that they must resolve between each other. Will Akira ever tell Mia about her plan to kill Caine? Will Mia ever understand Akira's revenge against her father? Will Mia decide to step into the fold of assassins because of Akira? Will Akira leave the High Table to be with Mia like how John did for Helen?

As a conclusion... Gosh, I love my lesbian rarepair too much.

5. Marquis x Wuxia DJ

The funniest and best crack ship ever made up in the John Wick fandom, and there's just the two of us, hahahaha. They give off high-school exes who are so, so fashionable and serve cunt while talking shit about the other behind each other's backs.

It's number five on my list because it's that good.

Honorable mention: Cassian x Gianna

Before the fourth movie is released, Cassian & Gianna is the only pairing I could see happening in the background. Cassian's loyalty to Gianna even after she died is very touching, and Gianna seemed very appreciative of it from the short interaction they have in JW2.

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sapphic-woes · 1 year

Text

A/N: Remember the accountant!reader that's really scared of Sevika? Yeah so I did a drabble. Lol.

____

You make her feel good. Or at least, she feels something other than the heaviness in her heart.

She doesn't know why.

No, she does–sort of. It's an inkling of a theory, but it's the only lead she's got. It's the fear in those eyes. They flicker and snap the moment she walks into the room.

She doesn't like it, but she relishes in the attention.

It felt good to know her presence made you waver. It felt good to watch you stiffen. To hear you stutter. To know she occupies a part of your mind. To know she means something to you, even if it's negative.

But still.

Still.

She'd rather see something more.

She wished for your eyes to sparkle, for your cheeks to redden and lips to smile–and the mere thought set butterflies loose in her chest, ever beating against her ribcage.

She doesn't know how to say it. The words are like bittersweet honey on her lips.

Look at me baby. Just for a little while.

It's clawing at her chest. It's sinking its hands into her body. Filling her lungs with the muck of her selfish desire. Look at me, look at me, baby won't you rest those pretty eyes on me?

"S-Sevika? If I um, if I did something wrong p-please let me know…"

Those irises. They look up at her and tremble, in tune with the shuddering of your shoulders. Should she bask in your undivided attention? It was easy to get you shivering under her shadow, easier to make that meager body of yours flinch…

Snakes coil inside of her. They eat up the butterflies. Hope is stomped out with Sevika's grimace. It's a wistful dream to think you'd see her as anything more than a killer.

You make Sevika feel good. About herself, about the world, about the dreadful people prowling about the alleys of the undercity. Warm. You're sunlight and daisies. A soothing summer breeze. That's what you are to me.

Yet it's a painful indulgence she knows she needs to abandon. Especially when nothing good will come out of it.

Won't you love me baby? Take my hand in yours? I want to set out a table with you. Lay my head in your lap and touch the corners of your skin.

Can I love you baby? Just for a little while?

Sevika grunts to hide her lingering thoughts. She ignores how it makes you wince.

"It's good enough. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Before I reach out and hold your hand. Before I say words I can never take back.

"Y-yes!" It's a lost cause, loving you. Regardless, Sevika can't keep her eyes off your retreating form until you finally disappear.

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane sevika #sevika headcanon #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #angst #ig #it's just yearning tbh

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meowzfordayz · 1 year

Note

ALRIGHT T. TENGEN WITH PROMPT 15. the song kind of implies nsfw so we'll go with that please 💖

MILESTONE 5.0

Hiya! 💗 I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING YOUR DRABBLE. Lowkey felt like it was turning into a one shot, but it was actually shorter than I thought. 😆 Def my fave Tengen fanfic that I've written (thus far) !! 🥳

You’re moving different when we making love, baby tell me, tell me, who do you love, do you love now? — Who Do You Love

CW: 18+NSFW, explicit language, Fem!Reader, implied cheating, oral

Tengen knows he should call you out on your bullshit, just as he knows you’ve always been sensitive. You’ve always giggled when he pinches your earlobe, bright sound hitching as he leans closer, low whimper in your throat at the feeling of his tongue sliding smooth and soft from your tragus to the corner of your jaw. Just as you’ve always gasped into his mouth when he pulls you flush to his chest, breasts warm, nipples perking at the friction from his shirt, hands memorizing the tautness of his obliques as he cups your head, the curve of your ass. And you’ve always, always parted your legs for him: large palm shoved between your thighs, most of your weight supported by his build as you lean into him, unsure whether to grind onto his fingers, or to wait patiently as they graze over and over and over again, just barely applying enough pressure, and—intentionally—missing the ache in your clit.

He’s always been good, great, at frustrating you. Sexually. Finally tugging aside your panties—Please Tengen, I swear I fucking, just, p-please—smirking at their dampness, the stickiness of your essence. Always savoring a taste, eyes closing at your bittersweet pleasure, promptly returning for More, grinning into your kiss as you wiggle until his sweatpants fall off of your hips. You’ve always enjoyed “borrowing” his clothes. He knows your body, your moods, as well as he knows his own. In tandem, in sync. Carrying you to the bedroom, your ankles hooked behind him, tits bouncing slightly, precum leaking—tip smearing on your skin—with every step. Locating the nearest piece of furniture, bending you over it, quietly asking you to spread your cheeks, knowing your folds will always glisten, puffy and lewd, when you do. Too impatient, dangerous groan filling the living room as you get on all fours, ass presented prettily, even prettier after he slaps it, dropping to his knees so he can bury his face in your cunt, initially careful about jostling you, eventually too pussydrunk to remember. You always end up with rug burn.

He knows he should call you out on your bullshit, just as he knows you’ve never rejected him. Sure, you’ve said No. He’s said No too. Sometimes, the tandem wobbles. Sometimes, snuggling on the couch while your current obsession plays on the TV, or while reading a book, or while listening to music, or while taking a nap, is better than making love. Falling back in love is always better than fucking. Until now.

Until he learns that rejection doesn’t just sting. It decays. Decays the suppleness of your pussy suffocating his cock. And the satisfaction of your eyes welling as you struggle to deep throat him, spit dripping messy and shiny beneath you.

“C’mon baby, you can do it, hm, you’re so good for me,” he murmurs, one hand keeping your hair out of your face, the other keeping you gagged on his cock, tip twitching at your wet, choked noises.

“I-” you pull away sharply, something unfamiliar sunken dark and stiff in your glare, “I don’t want to.”

And then he knows.

Of course, it’s fine if you’re not in the mood. It’s fine if he’s accidentally pushed you too hard. It’s fine if you need a moment to reset. To reassess. To reassure each other.

But what does he do when you’re looking through him?

What does he do when you’re lukewarm to the touch?

What does he say?

What can he say?

Tengen knows he should call you out on your bullshit, just as he knows you’ll still promise I love you.

Always?

Always.

#milestone event #5.0 #tengen uzui #uzui tengen #tengen x reader #uzui x reader #sound hashira #drabble #modern au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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allyricas · 1 year

Text

Make the Yuletide Gay

I would like to read a fic where Dustin is scheming to get Steve and Robin together during the christmas season. So he keeps trying to trap them with mistletoe but it just hysterically gets worse and worse.

First it's Nancy and Steve which is just super awkward for everyone involved. They share a quick peck that feels bittersweet. they loved each other once, but those feelings have transformed into a solid, lovely friendship.

Then it's Robin and Eddie and they cackle uncontrollably because they are both oh, so gay. Eddie peppers robin with sloppy kisses all over her face everywhere except her lips. Dustin is thinking maybe Eddie likes Robin, but then what about Steve? Steve obviously likes her too.

Unfortunately Joyce and Hopper are next, and of course, they start borderline making out. All of the younger teens are making gagging noises and Dustin momentarily considers giving up completely. He wants to see Steve happy though, so he carries on with his little plan.

When Jonathan and Argyle find themselves under the same mistletoe that same night, they just shrug and kiss. No fuss, no romance. They are basically platonic life partners at this point anyways. It helps that they are high as kites. The kiss makes them both giggle a little.

Things escalate when Nancy and Robin find themselves to be Dustin's next unwitting victims. He watches in rapt confusion as Robin is stammering and wildly blushing while Nancy sweetly kisses her. It's a soft, chaste kiss but zinging with emotion.

People are starting to catch on that someone is messing with everybody.

Dustin is getting very, very confused and frustrated. It seems like Robin and Steve are doubly sure to avoid the mistletoe at this point. He just escalates it further. As things go on, Lucas and Max keep "accidentally" finding themselves under the mistletoe. Dustin yells at them to just get back together and get out of the way.

El and Max, Eddie and Nancy (which once again, they are both giggling so much they can barely kiss. Eddie licks her) and a bright red Will and Mike round out the next round of awkward kisses. Mike kisses Will on the cheek and they are both tomato red.

Every single pair you can imagine get stuck but never Steve and Robin. It's driving Dustin mad.

The thing is Robin and Steve absolutely know what Dustin is doing and they think it is hilarious. It's Christmas Eve at Steve's house and everyone is having dinner and exchanging gifts when they decide to finally put Dustin out of his misery. Robin notes the mistletoe Dustin has hidden and allows her and Steve to get trapped.

Dustin has no chill as he watches with eyes wide, waiting for Steve and Robin to finally kiss. Only for Eddie to gently shove Robin out of the way and pull Steve into his arms. Then Eddie kisses Steve on the lips in a very, extremely romantic way. Like, something out of a goddamn movie.

Steve kisses him back. Oh god, they are kissing each other enthusiastically. Dustin is watching the two men he looks up to most passionately kiss each other.

oh oh oh

Dustin thinks back to Nancy and Robin. The connection between them. The many times that Steve and Robin have sworn they are platonic with a capital P. The laughs and smirks all four of them share with each other. The easy way Eddie touches Steve and gets in his personal space. The way Steve lets Eddie call him Stevie and touch his hair. He'd missed some major signs here.

"Why didn't you just tell me you're all super gay?! Could have saved me a whole lot of effort!" Dustin yells, exasperated but clearly thrilled for his friends. "You can stop shoving your tongues down each other's throats now, I get it ok. Talk about making the Yuletide gay."

#I have christmas fever along with ronance and steddie brainrot #steddie #ronance #tiny hint of byler and lumax #stranger things

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mccdreamys-writes · 1 month

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smiles for miles – 2. paint me a picture

we'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made, and you'll say, "oh my, we really were timeless". – Taylor Swift, Timeless (Taylor's Version)

S E P T E M B E R 1 4 T H 2 0 1 1

As I stared at the lines of the poem, they seemed to blur before my eyes, evading my attempts at recognition. Despite the letters she wrote specifically for me, I couldn't recall encountering Maile's words elsewhere.

Maile had a rare talent for crafting words into rich tapestries of emotion and meaning, a gift that had always captivated me. It was why, from a young age, I took it upon myself to teach her about language's intricacies, fostering her love for the written word and its ability to transcend barriers.

She was the reason I pursued linguistics, driven by the desire to bridge the gap between our worlds and unlock the secrets within our shared language. Each word held profound significance, a testament to the bond that connected us across time and space.

Hotch's voice snapped me back to reality, reminding me of our urgent situation. "You won't make any decisions alone, understood Blake?" His tone was firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

I nodded, determined to contribute to our investigation in any way possible. "I'm here to help," I affirmed, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

Hotch eased into the chair across from me, flanked by Rossi, their attentive gazes fixed on me. "Tell us more about the girl," Hotch prompted, his voice gentle but firm, urging me to share what I knew.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for the conversation ahead, hiding my emotions behind a mask of composure. "Her name is Maile Crane," I began, the sound of her name bringing forth a rush of bittersweet memories. "Her mother passed away when she was almost five, leaving her in the care of her father, Everett Crane."

The words caught in my throat, a lump forming as I struggled to speak of the pain hidden beneath the surface. "He was..." I hesitated, the memories of Maile's troubled past weighing heavily on my heart. "He was a terribly abusive man."

The admission hung heavy in the air, casting a somber mood over the room as I grappled with the guilt and remorse that gnawed at me. How could I have allowed him to take her away, subjecting her to such cruelty? What had she endured in the years since, and how could I ever make amends for failing to protect her?

With deliberate strokes, Rossi inscribed the names of Maile and her father onto the blank sheet before him, the scratch of the pen a stark reminder of the seriousness of our task.

Hotch's voice broke the solemn silence like a sharp blade, his inquiry cutting through the heavy atmosphere that enveloped the room. "You mentioned she used to send you letters," he interjected, his tone laced with empathy. "Do you still have them?"

A rush of memories flooded my mind at his question, the weight of those cherished letters bearing down on me like a heavy burden. "All 157 of them," I confirmed, each word heavy with emotion. "I couldn't bring myself to throw a single one away."

There was a somber note in Hotch's voice, a recognition of the pain that lingered in the wake of those letters. He understood the gravity of what he was about to ask, the weight of my loss mirrored in the lines of his face. "You know I don't want to ask..." he began, his words trailing off into the unspoken.

Meeting his gaze with a mix of gratitude and resignation, I braced myself for his request. Hotch was a man of unwavering integrity, his concern for his team evident in every decision he made. "Go ahead," I murmured, preparing myself for the inevitable. "Just... could you please not touch them with your hands. I know it sounds strange, but..."

Rossi, ever perceptive, interjected before I could finish, his understanding gaze offering silent reassurance. "It's the last connection you have to her," he affirmed, his words a testament to his empathy.

Grateful for his sensitivity, I nodded in agreement, acknowledging the significance of those letters in preserving Maile's memory. "I'll text Reid," Rossi continued, his voice tinged with determination. "He'll get through them fast. You have a..."

But before he could finish his sentence, I slid my key across the table, a silent gesture of consent. "Yes," I affirmed, the word heavy with emotion as I relinquished the last remnants of my connection to Maile.

Barely a minute had slipped by before the familiar silhouette of Reid loomed in the doorway, his demeanor a delicate balance of concern and determination. With measured steps, he approached the table where I sat, my heart fluttering with a blend of apprehension and eager anticipation.

"Are you sure about this, Alex?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he treaded carefully on the fragile ground of my memories. "I wouldn't want to..."

I intercepted his hesitation with a gentle smile, a gesture meant to ease his worries while masking the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. "Reid, just be kind to my heart," I responded, my words carrying the weight of vulnerability that echoed deep within.

His nod conveyed a silent understanding, reflecting the sincerity of his intentions. Reid was not one to approach matters lightly, especially when it involved matters of the heart. His empathy and compassion ran deep, endearing him to everyone he encountered.

It was evident that he cared not only for me but for each member of our team, a realization that filled me with gratitude and warmth. In Reid, I found not just a colleague but a friend, a pillar of support in times of need.

With a sense of purpose, Reid positioned himself before me, his gaze a mirror of his resolve to fulfill the task at hand. "Where should I start?" he inquired, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

Meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve, I provided him with precise instructions, guiding him on his quest. "Head upstairs, first door on your right," I directed, urgency lacing my words. "There's a small key in the middle desk drawer that unlocks the cabinet in the adjacent room. They're in there."

As the instructions left my lips, a palpable sense of anticipation hung heavy in the air, both of us keenly aware of the gravity of the moment. Reid absorbed the information with a nod, his expression a blend of focus and empathy.

Accepting the keys from my outstretched hand, Reid cast one last glance my way, his eyes brimming with a silent vow to handle the task with utmost care and reverence. "I promise, Alex," he affirmed, his words a testament to the trust that bound us together.

Rossi's inquiry lingered in the air, his words serving as a stark reminder of the gaping hole in our knowledge surrounding Maile's current whereabouts. "Do you have any leads on her today? What about social media?" he probed, a blend of concern and curiosity coloring his tone.

I shook my head, a tinge of frustration welling up within me. "I've tried everything, but it's like she's vanished into thin air," I confessed, the weight of my admission settling heavily upon my shoulders. Despite my relentless efforts, Maile remained as elusive as ever, her digital presence seemingly wiped clean.

With a heavy sigh, I buried my face in my hands, the uncertainty of her disappearance casting a shadow over my thoughts. "It's almost as if she doesn't want to be found," I mused aloud, the frustration evident in my voice. "Yet this case suggests otherwise."

The contradiction left me grappling for answers, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fit together neatly. "So it begs the question," I continued, uncertainty coloring my words. "Perhaps this case isn't about her at all. Maybe it's just a ploy by the UnSub to get under my skin."

The mere thought sent a shiver down my spine, the implications of such a revelation unsettling to contemplate. "But then again," I added, the uncertainty in my voice growing. "How did the UnSub know about 'Smiles'? That was just for us."

Hotch's measured voice interjected, a steadying presence amidst the swirling currents of emotion that threatened to overwhelm us. "Let's not jump to conclusions quite yet," he cautioned, his words a beacon of rationality in the midst of uncertainty.

"What about what she looked like back then?" he inquired, his tone gentle yet insistent, as if searching for a tangible anchor amidst the storm of memories that engulfed us.

I nodded, acknowledging the validity of his question as I reached for my wallet, fingers trembling slightly as I fumbled through its contents in search of the cherished memento hidden within. Finally, I located it: a small photograph tucked away amidst a jumble of cards and receipts.

"Here," I said, sliding the photograph across the table. "This is her."

Hotch picked up the photo, his eyes scanning the image with a furrowed brow. "She looks happy," he observed, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness.

"Yeah," I replied, a wistful smile playing at the corners of my lips. "That was a good day."

Carefully, he slid the photograph across the table to Rossi. The image frozen in time, capturing a moment of unbridled joy and innocence. In it, Maile and I lounged in a hammock, cocooned in the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. I held a copy of 'The Catcher in the Rye' in my hand, its pages worn with love and familiarity as I read aloud to her.

My heart swelled with fondness as I recalled the scene, the memory of Maile's laughter echoing in my mind like a melody from another time. Her golden locks cascaded in unruly waves around her face, the remnants of flower petals still clinging to her hair from our earlier romp through the sun-kissed fields.

With a pang of nostalgia, I remembered the way she had looked that day: carefree and radiant, her eyes alight with the joy of youth. Her head rested gently against my shoulder, a gesture of trust and affection that had once been reserved for me alone.

As I reminisced, a mix of emotions washed over me, leaving behind a lingering sense of both joy and sorrow. The memory brought a soft smile to my lips, but it was tinged with a hint of sadness that settled in the depths of my chest. I remembered the warmth of her presence beside me, a comforting presence in a world full of uncertainty.

That shoulder, where she had leaned against countless times, held a special significance. It was a space that had witnessed our shared moments of laughter and tears, offering solace and support in equal measure. But it was also a space reserved exclusively for Smiles, a name that held deep meaning for us both.

I recalled a time when someone else had attempted to lean against that same shoulder, unaware of its significance. My reaction had been swift and impassioned, a protective instinct kicking in to defend what was sacred to us. That shoulder belonged to Smiles alone, a testament to the unique bond we shared.

On my bookshelf sat a copy of 'The Catcher in the Rye,' untouched and gathering dust. Its worn spine and yellowed pages were a testament to the countless hours we had spent lost in its world. Holden Caulfield's journey had been our shared escape, a refuge from the trials and tribulations of reality.

Despite the passage of time, I couldn't bring myself to open its covers. The weight of memories it held was too heavy to bear, and so it remained a silent witness to our love and laughter. It served as a reminder of a bygone era, a relic of a time when our connection was tangible and real.

As I gazed at the book in the photograph, waves of nostalgia washed over me, carrying with them a flood of memories intertwined with Maile's presence. It was like stepping into a time capsule, each page of that book a snapshot of the moments we shared together. In moments of quiet reflection, I often found myself pondering a hypothetical scenario: If I were to meet Maile today, oblivious to the depth of our shared history, would our connection still ignite with the same fervor and passion?

Deep within the recesses of my soul, the resounding answer echoed with unwavering certainty: Yes. Yes, we would fall in love all over again, but perhaps in a different, more profound way. The thought resonated within me, stirring a longing for a renewed encounter, unencumbered by the weight of our past. This time, I yearned for a love that transcended the bounds of friendship, one that blossomed into something deeper and more profound.

Maile wasn't just a memory; she was my soulmate, the one person who saw me for who I truly was, flaws and all. Despite her physical absence, her essence lingered in every facet of my life, like a gentle breeze that whispered her presence in my ear. Her love had been a beacon of light, illuminating even the darkest corners of my existence and filling my heart with warmth and joy.

The prospect of facing life without her was daunting, but amidst the uncertainty, I found solace in the knowledge that she would forever hold a sacred place in my heart. Her memory served as a guiding light, offering me strength and comfort as I navigated the complexities of life. In her absence, I found myself seeking refuge in the sanctuary of her love, drawing upon it like a wellspring of hope and resilience.

As I traced the contours of her image in the photograph, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the profound impact she had made on my life. She was my brightest star, a source of inspiration and guidance that illuminated my path even in the darkest of times. And though our journey together had taken an unexpected turn, I remained steadfast in my belief that our love would endure, timeless and eternal.

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sandorara · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Oh, this is so nice! And incredibly difficult, which has made me feel nice. Can you believe I have so many works I'm still pleased with that it was difficult to choose? What a pleasant feeling.

Anyway, in chronological order of posting, starting from the most recent. I've decided not to choose unfinished ones or co-authored pieces, so we're going decently far back right from the start.

1. See you in Eorzea - Yizhan & FF14, 69k, E I (M 28) picked up someone (M 2x) in a video game and I think they might be famous. Please advise.

Famous/non-famous MMORPG AU, meet cute in Sastasha. My longest work ever when I wrote it, and it was completed before posting anything. Still really happy with it, and, Yoshi-p should pay me royalties for how many converts it's created. I'm confident you do not need to know yizhan to enjoy it, if you would like to give it a try 💕

2. For the future you (the one without me) - Yizhan, 6.4k, T “Why Singapore?,” she’d asked him once, and he’d not known how to answer. An exploration of what may lie outside the few minutes the Vogue Film offered.

Inspired by a Vogue shortfilm Wang Yibo starred in, link to it can be found in the a/n of the fic. 9 minutes, very aesthetically worth it. I'm really happy with the atmosphere of this work, and I feel like it's very representative of my shorter, fleetier, ever bittersweet style. Am proud still. 🥺

3. Written, never said - cql - lwj & mianmian, wangxian, 6.6k, G ”I have a letter to deliver to young lady Luo Qingyang. It has arrived from Gusu today, with the quickest delivery.”

Thirteen years of correspondence, understanding and friendship.

My Mianmian and LWJ friendship agenda. Epistolary fic covering the years of WWX's death through Mianmian's eyes on the letters she receives and writes. I'm still happy with how this one conveys what I wanted to say. I'm pleased with it stylistically. And they deserved that friendship, IT WAS THERE, OK.

4. Sensations - ffxiv - wolexarch, 4.7k E ”Make it hurt, please,” he’d finally whispered, as each day, more of his body was being eaten away by the crystal, leaving him missing touch in places he did not know he’d wanted it.

A stand-alone AU within my wolfic series in which G'raha's crystallisation speeds up after the events of 5.0 and the completion of his mission. and with it comes loss of sensation. This one came to be when my dear friend @draiochteve prompted me to write "soft knifeplay". I love the bittersweet desperation and love I managed to convey in this one, and, I just want you to take note of the publication date: This was posted exactly a year before the release of patch 5.3. 😌

5. Nothing more than a willing substitute - ffxiv, asahi/zenos, 4.3k, E He would do anything to please his beloved Prince.

Oldest one here and I will admit I'm impressed that I still think it's worthy of this list, five years later. One of my first 14 fics, and definitely the most wretched thing I had ever written at the time. Mayhap one may call it my descent into the filth-pit. Asahi just made me feral, and it worked out. My dear gf @g0g0mi just desrcibed this one as "iconic", so. Unrecruited obsession love, swordplay, bondage, choking... there are things. IDK. My brand started here, OK. And, I think it still holds up. 😎

Thank you for letting me do this, it was quite the mood-boost! Will pass it on. 😊

#own fic #fanfiction #ffxiv #yizhan #cql

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bookwyrminspiration · 5 months

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do you have any novellas you'd recommend? I've been in an awful reading slump

I must confess, I don't read many novellas, but! My dad does, and he frequently recommends them to me (we have fairly similar taste), so I can pad the list with some of those.

The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists by Gideon Defoe; there's multiple, and they're these ridiculous short tales of these ridiculous pirates doing. ridiculous things. They made a movie out of the first one. the pirate captain worries he's not entertaining his crew, and on a heist they encounter Charles Darwin, who is training a monkey to be a man and he promises to help him show off this magnificent feat to his snobby superiors and help his rescue his brother from Oxford. Suffice to say things go funky. this is a story that embraces its ridiculousness beautifully

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto; a bittersweet exploration of grief and healing. there's no huge drama, just a girl healing from the loss of her grandmother who finds someone who knew her late grandmother, and finds healing in time and new connections. and in sharing grief with new family. there's also a short story within banana at the end called Moonlight, which also discusses grief. one of my favorites :)

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone; you've likely heard of this one before. an epistolary novel of letters between two enemy soldiers in an infinite war across space and time. one fights for a machine-based side, the other for a garden/nature-based. they travel up and down time, ensuring pieces of the future are correctly in place for themselves and sabotaging each other. but more and more...they find themselves valuing these at-first taunting letters. and there are consequences to that

The Ice Dragon by George RR Martin; this one's meant for a younger audience, but I'm quite fond of it. a little girl was born with the cold inside her, and when the ice dragon visits during winter, she can safely touch it and all the other cold creatures without melting them like other kids. but war is coming, and she has to grow. and as much as she loves this dragon as cold as her, survival means sacrifices.

Mapping the Interior by Stephen Graham Jones; an. intriguing story about a kid living on the reservation who sees his dead dad's presence come back to visit--but there's something...off happening. and his little brother's seizure and condition are getting worse, and it turns out there's no escaping the past. this one leaves a bit of unsettling contemplation in my experience--and this author has also written a bunch of other things if it turns out to be to your liking

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark; this is one I haven't read myself, but it's apparently an alternate history in Egypt of detectives trying to solve why this tram car is haunted--and trying to fix it. i intend to read it one day, just haven't yet

Fireheart Tiger by Aliette de Bodard; another one I haven't read about a princess sent away as a hostage when she was younger, but who has now returned and now faces an old love (I think? it's a little fuzzy. i believe it's also queer, but I wouldn't want to advertise it on that alone).

American Hippo by Sarah Gailey; recommended by my partner, is comprised of 2 novellas. I don't know much except that it's an alternate world where America did, indeed, bring hippos over to serve as a main meat source. however they are very viscous, and that causes problems, which I believe the main characters are trying to help solve...? they're spoken very fondly about it with me :)

I could likely come up with more if needed, but these are a solid few to get you going--if you want to read any of them. There is, of course, no pressure if none of these work for you! I think, personally, the first two are my top picks from this list; I've used them to get out of slumps myself. I wish you luck!!

#book recs #book recommendations #novella recs #quil's queries #gayupstraight #another trick to get out of reading slumps I've learned is to reread old books you like #hence my tgI reread #a quick series I know I like to just go through the motions and make it familiar again #warm up and strengthen my reading muscles enough to move on to new stuff :)#long post

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